柴科婷英美短篇小说103001201599 words, sir--it'll be all up with them. But "he concluded conf identically, " I wish I had his hold on the men; it's a great thing in this country. Not like home, where you can go round a corner and get another gang. You have to make the best you can out of the lot you have, you won't get another man for love or money without you ship him a few hundred miles. "And with a frown he waved his arm over the forests to indicate the barrenness of the land Scorrier finished his inspection and went on a shooting trip into the forest. His host met him on his retum. " Just look at this! "he said, holding out a telegram " Awful, isn't it? His face expressed a profound commiseration, almost ludicrously mixed with the ashamed contentment that men experience at the misfortunes of an enemy The telegram, dated the day before, ran thus"Frightful explosion New Colliery this morning, great loss of life feared Scorrier had the bewildered thought: Pippin will want me now He took leave of his host who called after him: "Youd better wait for a steamer! It's a beastly drive! Scorrier shook his head. All night, jolting along a rough track cut through the forest, he thought of Pippin. The other miseries of this calamity at present left him cold; he barely thought of the smothered men; but Pippin s struggle, his lonely struggle with this hydra-headed monster, touched him very nearly. He fell asleep and dreamed of watching Pippin slowly strangled by a snake, the agonised, kindly, ironic face peeping out between two gleaming coils was so horribly real, that he awoke. It was the moment before dawn pitch-black branches barred the sky; with every jolt of the wheels the gleams from the lamps danced. fantastic and intrusive. round ferns and tree-stems. into the cold heart of the forest For an hour or more Scorrier tried to feign sleep, and hide from the stillness, and overmastering gloom of these great woods. Then softly a whisper of noises stole forth, a stir of light, and the whole slow radiance of the moming glory. But it brought no warmth; and Scorrier wrapped himself closer in his cloak, feeling as though old age had touched him.柴科婷 英美短篇小说 10300120159 9 words, sir--it'll be all up with them. But," he concluded confidentially, "I wish I had his hold on the men; it's a great thing in this country. Not like home, where you can go round a corner and get another gang. You have to make the best you can out of the lot you have; you won't, get another man for love or money without you ship him a few hundred miles." And with a frown he waved his arm over the forests to indicate the barrenness of the land. III Scorrier finished his inspection and went on a shooting trip into the forest. His host met him on his return. "Just look at this!" he said, holding out a telegram. "Awful, isn't it?" His face expressed a profound commiseration, almost ludicrously mixed with the ashamed contentment that men experience at the misfortunes of an enemy. The telegram, dated the day before, ran thus "Frightful explosion New Colliery this morning, great loss of life feared." Scorrier had the bewildered thought: 'Pippin will want me now.' He took leave of his host, who called after him: "You'd better wait for a steamer! It's a beastly drive!" Scorrier shook his head. All night, jolting along a rough track cut through the forest, he thought of Pippin. The other miseries of this calamity at present left him cold; he barely thought of the smothered men; but Pippin's struggle, his lonely struggle with this hydra-headed monster, touched him very nearly. He fell asleep and dreamed of watching Pippin slowly strangled by a snake; the agonised, kindly, ironic face peeping out between two gleaming coils was so horribly real, that he awoke. It was the moment before dawn: pitch-black branches barred the sky; with every jolt of the wheels the gleams from the lamps danced, fantastic and intrusive, round ferns and tree-stems, into the cold heart of the forest. For an hour or more Scorrier tried to feign sleep, and hide from the stillness, and overmastering gloom of these great woods. Then softly a whisper of noises stole forth, a stir of light, and the whole slow radiance of the morning glory. But it brought no warmth; and Scorrier wrapped himself closer in his cloak, feeling as though old age had touched him