By Olive Schreiner, Elisabeth Jay
Buy of this booklet contains unfastened trial entry to www.million-books.com the place you could learn greater than one million books at no cost. this can be an OCR variation with typos. Excerpt from ebook: A DREAM of untamed BEES. mom sat on my own at an open window. via it got here the voices of the youngsters as they performed lower than the acacia-trees, and the breath of the new afternoon air. out and in of the room flew the bees, the wild bees, with their legs yellow with pollen, going to and from the acacia-trees, droning the entire whereas. She sat on a low chair earlier than the desk and darned. She took her paintings from the good basket that stood prior to her at the desk: a few lay on her knee and part coated the e-book thatrested there. She watched the needle move out and in; and the dreary hum of the bees and the noise of the kid's voices grew to become a burdened murmur in her ears, as she labored slowly and extra slowly. Then the bees, the long-legged wasp-like fellows who make no honey, flew nearer and in the direction of her head, droning. Then she grew progressively more drowsy, and she or he laid her hand, with the stocking over it, at the fringe of the desk, and leaned her head upon it. And the voices of the kids outdoors grew a growing number of dreamy, got here now a long way, now close to; then she didn't listen them, yet she felt below her center the place the 9th baby lay. Bent ahead and drowsing there, with the bees flying approximately her head, she had a unusual mind- photograph ; she concept the bees lengthened and lengthened themselves out and have become human creatures and moved roundand around her. Then one got here to her softly, announcing, " allow me lay my hand upon thy facet the place the kid sleeps. If I shall contact him he will be as I." She requested, " who're you ? " And he acknowledged, " i'm future health. Whom I contact could have continuously the pink blood dancing in his veins ; he'll no longer recognize weariness nor soreness; lifestyles might be an extended chuckle to him." " No," acknowledged one other, " permit me contact ; for i'm Wealth. If I contact him fabric care shall no longer feed on him. He s...
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Extra resources for Dreams: Three Works Dreams, Dream Life and Real Life, Stories, Dreams and Allegories (Late Victorian and Early Modernist Women Writers)
She was silent. " And she opened it. And against her breast was a tiny thing, who drank from it, and the yellow curls above his forehead pressed against it; and his knees were drawn up to her, and he held her breast fast with his hands. " And she said, "He is asleep, and he is drinking! I will carry him to the Land of Freedom. He has been a child so long, so long, I have carried him. In the Land of Freedom he will be a man. We will walk together there, and his great white wings will overshadow me.
26 OLIVE SCHREINER I walked through the ruined Chapel, and looked at the Christ in red carrying his cross, and the Blessed rubbed-out Bambino, and the Roman soldiers, and the folded hands, and the reed; and I went and sat down in the open porch upon a stone. At my feet was the small bay, with its white row of houses buried among the olive trees; the water broke in a long, thin, white line of foam along the shore; and I leaned my elbows on my knees. I was tired, very tired; tired with a tiredness that seemed older than the heat of the day and the shining of the sun on the bricks of the Roman road; and I lay my head upon my knees; I heard the breaking of the water on the rocks three hundred feet below, and the rustling of the wind among the olive trees and the ruined arches, and then I fell asleep there.
Who goes, goes freely - for the great love that is in him. " "I am the child of The-Accumulated-Knowledge-of-Ages," said the man; "I can walk only where many men have trodden. On these mountains few feet have passed; each man strikes out a path for himself. He goes at his own peril: my voice he hears no more. " Then Knowledge vanished. And the hunter turned. He went to his cage, and with his hands broke down the bars, and the jagged iron tore his flesh. It is sometimes easier to build than to break.
Dreams: Three Works Dreams, Dream Life and Real Life, Stories, Dreams and Allegories (Late Victorian and Early Modernist Women Writers) by Olive Schreiner, Elisabeth Jay