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Munafa ebook

Munafa ebook

Read Ebook: Little soldiers all by Stooke Eleanora H

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Ebook has 712 lines and 28003 words, and 15 pages

Senti tremer o Globo sob os meus p?s--e cerrei um momento os olhos. Mas comprehendi, n'um relance, que eu era, desde essa hora, como uma incarna??o do Sobrenatural, recebendo d'elle a minha for?a e possuindo os seus attributos. N?o podia comportar-me como um homem, nem desconsiderar-me em expans?es humanas. At?, para n?o quebrar a linha hieratica--abstive-me de ir solu?ar, como m'o pedia a alma, sobre o vasto seio da Madame Marques...

D'ora em diante cabia-me a impassibilidade d'um Deus--ou d'um Demonio: dei, com naturalidade, um pux?o ?s cal?as, e disse a Silvestre, Juliano & C.^a estas palavras:

--Est? bem! O Mandarim... Esse Mandarim que disse portou-se com cavalheirismo. Eu sei de que se trata. ? uma quest?o de familia. Deixe ahi os papeis... Bons dias.

Silvestre, Juliano & C.^a retirou-se, ?s arrecuas, de dorso vergado e fronte voltada ao ch?o.

Eu ent?o fui abrir, toda larga, a janella: e, dobrando para traz a cabe?a, respirei o ar calido, consoladamente, como uma cor?a can?ada...

Depois olhei para baixo, para a rua, onde toda uma burguezia se escoava, n'uma pacata sahida de missa, entre duas filas de trens. Fixei, aqui e al?m, inconscientemente, algumas cuias de senhoras, alguns metaes brilhantes d'arreios. E de repente, veio-me esta id?a, esta triumphante certeza--que todas aquellas tipoias as podia eu tomar ? hora ou ao anno! Que nenhuma das mulheres que via, deixaria de me offerecer o seu seio n?, a um aceno do meu desejo! Que todos esses homens, de sobrecasaca de domingo, se prostrariam diante de mim como diante de um Christo, de um Mahomet ou de um Buddha, se eu lhes sacudisse junto ? face cento e seis mil contos sobre as pra?as da Europa!...

De que me serviam por fim tantos milh?es, sen?o para me trazerem, dia a dia, a affirma??o desoladora da villeza humana?... E assim, ao choque de tanto oiro, ia desapparecer aos meus olhos como um fumo a belleza moral do Universo! Tomou-me uma tristeza mystica. Abati-me sobre uma cadeira; e, com a face entre as m?os, chorei abundantemente.

D'ahi a pouco a Madame Marques abria a porta, toda vistosa nas suas s?das pretas.

--Est?-se ? sua espera para jantar, engui?o!...

Emergi da minha amargura para lhe responder seccamente:

--N?o janto.

--Mais fica!

--Aos touros!

--S?o dez tost?es, meu amo!

Encarei com repuls?o aquelle reles peda?o de materia organisada--que fallava em placas de prata a um colosso d'oiro! Enterrei a m?o na algibeira ajoujada de milh?es, e tirei o meu metal: tinha setecentos e vinte!

O cocheiro bateu a anca da egoa e seguiu, resmungando. Eu balbuciei:

--Mas tenho letras!... Aqui est?o! Sobre Londres! Sobre Hamburgo!...

--N?o p?ga.

Setecentos e vinte!... E touros, jantar de lord, andaluzas nuas, todo esse sonho expirou como uma bola de sab?o que bate a ponta de um prego.

Odiei a Humanidade, abominei o Numerario. Outra tipoia, lan?ada a trote, apinhada de gente festiva, quasi me atropellou n'aquella abstrac??o em que eu fic?ra com os meus setecentos e vinte na palma da m?o suada.

Foi s? na manh? seguinte, ao fazer a barba, que reflecti sobre a origem dos meus milh?es. Ella era evidentemente sobrenatural e suspeita.

"He knows exactly where to stop," Miss Basset remarked, as she handed the reins to Donald and got out of the carriage followed by the two little girls. "We shall not be long, I expect, Donald."

"Oh, don't hurry, Aunt Ann!" the boy answered; "I like watching the people."

Josephine had never before seen anything like the busy scene inside the butter market. It was a spacious, airy building, filled with row after row of stalls laden with baskets full of dairy produce. Directly inside the chief entrance was a huge crate, in charge of two boy scouts, and inside the crate were rabbits, poultry, vegetables, and various parcels, whilst in one corner was a big basket containing a dozen or so of eggs.

"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Basset, addressing one of the boys, "these are gifts for the Voluntary Aid Hospital, I suppose?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, adding: "The first lot of wounded arrived last night."

"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed the old lady, "oh, dear me!"

"Aunt Ann," said Josephine, "I should like to give something to the hospital. What can I buy?"

"Eggs?" suggested Miss Basset. "Really, though, there's no necessity for you to give anything. I will speak to your uncle and get him to send a present of apples and vegetables from the garden."

"But I want to give something myself," Josephine answered; "I will buy some eggs."

She bought a dozen, and placed them in the egg basket inside the crate. Then Miss Basset made her purchases, which her young companions carried for her to the carriage; they told Donald about the crate of gifts for the soldiers' hospital.

"Josephine has bought some eggs and given," May told her brother, "but I've no money. I spent my last week's pocket-money in chocolates; I shan't do that again."

"I've only threepence," Donald admitted. "Shall we ask Aunt Ann to buy us something, and--"

"No, no!" his sister broke in, "it wouldn't be our present at all then."

The twins received their pocket-money every Monday, but they were generally penniless by the end of the week. Hitherto they had always spent their money on themselves; it had never occurred to them to do otherwise.

From the butter market Josephine was taken into the adjoining building, where there were stalls laden with goods of all sorts, including second-hand clothing and books, stationery, and flowers and ferns in pots. Then there was the fruit and vegetable market to be seen, and after that a cheap jack selling umbrellas. He had a wonderful flow of language, and pressed his goods so cleverly that he sold them at a surprisingly quick rate.

Josephine was greatly interested in all she saw and heard, and was sorry when Miss Basset at length said it was time to go home. They were all in the carriage and about to start, when Donald exclaimed: "Oh, there's Dr. Farrant!" and the owner of the name--a pleasant-faced man of about fifty--came to Miss Basset's side and spoke to her.

"How do you do?" the old lady said cordially. "You're quite a stranger! You haven't been to the Glen for a fortnight or more."

"Because I have been more than usually busy," he replied, "and I knew my patient could do without me." He smiled at Donald as he spoke.

"I hear you are to give your services at the Voluntary Aid Hospital," Miss Basset remarked.

He assented.

"Have you been over it?" he inquired. "No? Oh, you should! We have some patients now--they will be pleased to receive visitors. Bring your young folks to see them, they will help cheer them up."

"This is our great niece from India," Miss Basset said, indicating Josephine; "she only arrived yesterday. Her father's regiment has been ordered to the front, and she is going to remain with us till the war is over. Oh, this terrible war!" The old lady shuddered.

"Yes, it is indeed a terrible war," Dr. Farrant agreed; "but we can face it bravely, knowing we're fighting for truth, and honour, and right against might. Ah, your pony's in a hurry to be off, I see!"

Tommy had made a sudden start forward with an impatient shake of his head, and now, as the doctor moved back, he began to turn of his own accord, and two minutes later he had started for home. It was evident he intended returning faster than he had come, for it was as much as his mistress could do to check his pace until he was out of the town.

"You see, he can go well when he likes, my dear," Miss Basset said, smiling at Josephine. "He is a bad starter, but he will soon take us home."

It was one o'clock when the Glen was reached.

Tommy waited to be given a slice of bread, then was led away by Barnes to the stable, whilst Miss Basset and the young people went to get ready for dinner.

"What are we going to do this afternoon?" May inquired during dinner. "What would you like to do, Josephine?"

"I should like to write to father," Josephine answered; "I've such a lot to tell him."

"But, my dear, you don't know where to write to him, do you?" questioned Mr. Basset.

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