Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 154

CHAPTER IX - Casa de las Cuentas

Afternoon, and greater heat. Juana set off with the girls and the dishes. They would do the washing up in the lake. Squatting on the stones, they would dabble the plates one by one, the spoons and the forks one by one in the filmy water of the lake, then put them in the sun to dry. After which Juana might wash a couple of towels in the lake and the girls might bathe. Sauntering the day away - sauntering the day away.
Jesus, the eldest son, a queer, heavy, greasy fellow, usually appeared in the afternoon, to water the garden. But he ate his meals at the hotel, and really lived there, had his home there. Not that he had any home, any more than aZopilote had a home. But he ran the planta, and did odd jobs about the hotel, and worked every day in the year till half-past ten at night, earning twenty-two pesos, eleven dollars, a month. He wore a black shirt, and his thick, massive black hair dropped over his low brow. Very near to an animal. And though, to order, he wore a black Fascisti shirt, he had the queer, animal jeering of the socialists, an instinct for pulling things down.
His mother and he had a funny little intimacy of quiet and indifferent mutual taunting of one another. He would give her some money if she were in a strait. And there was a thin little thread of blood-bondage between them. Apart from that, complete indifference.
Ezequiel was a finer type. He was slender and so erect that he almost curved backwards. He was very shy, farouche. Proud also, and more responsible to his family. He would not go to work in an hotel. No. He was a worker in the fields, and he was proud of it. A man's work. No equivocal sort of half-service for him.
Though he was just a hired labourer, yet working on the land he never felt he was working for a master. It was the land he worked for. Somewhere inside himself he felt that the land was his, and he belonged in a measure to it. Perhaps a lingering feeling of tribal, communal land-ownership and service.
When there was work, he was due to earn a peso a day. There was often no work: and often only seventy-five centavos a day for wage. When the land was dry, he would try to get work on the road, though this he did not like. But he earned his peso a day.
Often, there was no work. Often, for days, sometimes for

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Afternoon, and greater heat. Juana set off with what is girls and what is dishes. They would do what is washing up in what is lake. Squatting on what is stones, they would dabble what is plates one by one, what is spoons and what is forks one by one in what is filmy water of what is lake, then put them in what is sun to dry. After which Juana might wash a couple of towels in what is lake and what is girls might bathe. Sauntering what is day away - sauntering what is day away. Jesus, what is eldest son, a queer, heavy, greasy fellow, usually appeared in what is afternoon, to water what is garden. But he ate his meals at what is hotel, and really lived there, had his home there. Not that he had any home, any more than aZopilote had a home. But he ran what is planta, and did odd jobs about what is hotel, and worked every day in what is year till half-past ten at night, earning twenty-two pesos, eleven dollars, a month. He wore a black shirt, and his thick, massive black hair d where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Plumed Serpent (1926) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 154 where is strong CHAPTER IX - Casa de las Cuentas where is p align="justify" Afternoon, and greater heat. Juana set off with what is girls and what is dishes. They would do what is washing up in the lake. Squatting on what is stones, they would dabble what is plates one by one, what is spoons and what is forks one by one in what is filmy water of what is lake, then put them in what is sun to dry. After which Juana might wash a couple of towels in what is lake and what is girls might bathe. Sauntering what is day away - sauntering what is day away. Jesus, what is eldest son, a queer, heavy, greasy fellow, usually appeared in what is afternoon, to water what is garden. But he ate his meals at what is hotel, and really lived there, had his home there. Not that he had any home, any more than aZopilote had a home. But he ran what is planta, and did odd jobs about what is hotel, and worked every day in what is year till half-past ten at night, earning twenty-two pesos, eleven dollars, a month. He wore a black shirt, and his thick, massive black hair dropped over his low brow. Very near to an animal. And though, to order, he wore a black Fascisti shirt, he had what is queer, animal jeering of what is socialists, an instinct for pulling things down. His mother and he had a funny little intimacy of quiet and indifferent mutual taunting of one another. He would give her some money if she were in a strait. And there was a thin little thread of blood-bondage between them. Apart from that, complete indifference. Ezequiel was a finer type. He was slender and so erect that he almost curved backwards. He was very shy, farouche. Proud also, and more responsible to his family. He would not go to work in an hotel. No. He was a worker in what is fields, and he was proud of it. A man's work. No equivocal sort of half-service for him. Though he was just a hired labourer, yet working on what is land he never felt he was working for a master. It was what is land he worked for. Somewhere inside himself he felt that what is land was his, and he belonged in a measure to it. Perhaps a lingering feeling of tribal, communal land-ownership and service. When there was work, he was due to earn a peso a day. There was often no work: and often only seventy-five centavos a day for wage. When what is land was dry, he would try to get work on what is road, though this he did not like. But he earned his peso a day. Often, there was no work. Often, for days, sometimes for where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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