Дні мрій
The Magic Ring
Disgustedanddefiantwefledindifferentdirections,rejoiningeachotherlaterinthekitchen-garden;andaswestrolledalongtogether,ourshortfeudforgotten,Haroldobserved,gloomily:“Ishouldliketobeacave-man,likeUncleGeorgewastellin’usabout:withaflinthatchetandnoclothes,andliveinacaveandnotknowanybody!”
“Andifanyonecametoseeuswedidn’tlike,”Ijoinedin,catchingontothepointsoftheidea,“we’dhithimontheheadwiththehatchettillhedroppeddowndead.”
“Andthen,”saidHarold,warmingup,“we’ddraghimintothecaveandSKINHIM!”
Foraspacewegloatedsilentlyoverthefairsceneourimaginationshadconjuredup.ItwasBLOODwefelttheneedofjustthen.Wewantednoluxuries,nothingdear-boughtnorfar-fetched.Justplainblood,andnothingelse,andplentyofit.
Blood,however,wasnottobehad.Thetimewasoutofjoint,andwehadbeenborntoolate.Sowewentofftothegreenhouse,crawledintotheheatingarrangementunderneath,andplayedatthedarkanddirtyandunrestrictedlifeofcave-mentillwewereheartilysickofit.Thenweemergedoncemoreintohistorictimes,andwentofftotheroadtolookforsomethinglivingandsentienttothrowstonesat.
Nature,sooftenacheerfulally,sometimessulksandrefusestoplay.Wheninthismoodshepassesthewordtoherunderlings,andallthelittlepeopleoffurandfeathertakethehintandsliphomequietlybybackstreets.Invainwescouted,lurked,crept,andambuscaded.
