Capitolo 69
out me the rate of car didn't have to get back to Woodvale. I walked everybody
the way, and you/he/she was pursued by dogs. When I got here, the assistant of edge introduced
my account that amounted to many one hundred dollars. I told him I was able
don't pay him/it, and he marked my name by the list of affiliation. I met Carter
and many others and they would not speak to them me. I was dying from
hunger, and it looked covetously at the rests of a slice of meat gone away from
Chilvers, but one of the servants told me to stir on.
Then the scene changed, as things stir in dreams, and I was at work on
Bishop's farm. I was coupon and scandalous corn and the head of the
rented help swore because I was so slow. My hands were bleeding from
scratches where the acute edges of the bayonet-as blades had cut them,
and I was hungry so and tired that I was ready to lie down and to die. My
wages were fifteen dollars for month, and every cent of him had been imposed
against from my creditors of Wall Street. Not until me I was seventy years old
some of the money I earned you/he/she is coming to me. The other ones hired men
looked on me as a sickly individual, and laughed to the suit of sweater lacerated in that me
you/he/she was dressed.
I was happy when I woke up myself and inclusive it was only a nightmare.
I raised the curtain as to leave in the fresh air. The connections were wet
in a flood of clear of moon. Half a mile goes away Episcopalian cornfields in
what the demons of dreamland had tortured me. It was not midnight yet, and
down the passage me extended the forms of Chilvers, Marshall, Lawson and
other nighthawks. Chilvers was singing, the others that enter the choir
of the last line, attracting out it to the full length and strength of a
parody of the old song of black:
"Where, oh where the long ones are, long drivers?
Where, oh where the long ones are, long drivers?;
Where, oh where the long ones are, long drivers?
'Way down yander in the field of corn."
[The illustration: The dream]