短篇小说 | Beyond the Bayou
The bayou curved like a crescent around the point of land on which La Folle's cabin stood.
The bayou curved like a crescent around the point of land on which La Folle's cabin stood.
ILL-FATED and mysterious man ! - bewildered in the brilliancy of thine own imagination, and fallen in the flames of thine own youth !
I walked the streets of the City of Insolence, thirsting for the sight of a stranger face. For the City is a desert of familiar types as thick and alike as the grains in a sand-storm; and you grow to hate them as you do a friend who is always by you, or one of your own kin.
'Polyte was beating his leg with his limp felt hat. "I reckon I jus' as well go yonda on Li'le river - w'ere Azélie," he said.
Upon coming to my senses (for the fall had very thoroughly stunned me) I found it about four o'clock in the morning.
The snake reporter of The Rolling Stone was wandering up the avenue last night on his way home from the Y.M.C.A. rooms when he was approached by a gaunt, hungry-looking man with wild eyes and dishevelled hair. He accosted the reporter in a hollow, weak voice.
"Madame," he said, "an old soldier, wounded on the field of Gettysburg, craves for himself and his two little children your kind hospitality."
THE symposium of the preceding evening had been a little too much for my nerves. I had a wretched headache, and was desperately drowsy.
I have always maintained, and asserted ime to time, that woman is no mystery; that man can foretell, construe, subdue, comprehend, and interpret her.
Every one who came up from Avoyelles had the same story to tell of Mentine.
"LISTEN to me," said the Demon as he placed his hand upon my head. "The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya, by the borders of the river Zaire. And there is no quiet there, nor silence.
We no longer groan and heap ashes upon our heads when the flames of Tophet are mentioned.
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