Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 162

CHAPTER IX - Casa de las Cuentas

the charales swimming, just a natural part of the lake life. The men just left that part of the lake to the women. And the women sat in the shallows of the lake, isolated in themselves like moor-fowl, pouring water over their heads and over their ruddy arms from a gourd scoop.
The quiet, unobtrusive, but by no means down-trodden women of the peon class. They went their own way, enveloped in their rebozos as in their own darkness. They hurried nimbly along, their full cotton skirts swinging, chirping and quick like birds. Or they sat in the lake with long hair streaming, pouring water over themselves: again like birds. Or they passed with a curious slow inevitability up the lake-shore, with a heavy red jar of water perched on one shoulder, one arm over the head, holding the rim of the jar. They had to carry all water from the lake to their houses. There was no town supply. Or, especially on Sunday afternoons, they sat in their doorways de-lousing one another. The most resplendent belles, with magnificent black wavy hair, were most thoroughly de-loused. It was as if it were a meritorious public act.
The men were the obvious figures. They assert themselves on the air. They are the dominant. Usually they are in loose groups, talking quietly, or silent: always standing or sitting apart, rarely touching one another. Often a single man would stand alone at a street corner in his serape, motionless for hours, like some powerful spectre. Or a man would lie on the beach as if he had been cast up dead from the waters. Impassive, motionless, they would sit side by side on the benches of the plaza, not exchanging a word. Each one isolated in his own fate, his eyes black and quick like a snake's, and as blank.
It seemed to Kate that the highest thing this country might produce would be some powerful relationship of man to man. Marriage itself would always be a casual thing. Though the men seemed very gentle and protective to the little children. Then they forgot them.
But sex itself was a powerful, potent thing, not to be played with or paraded. The one mystery. And a mystery greater than the individual. The individual hardly counted.
It was strange to Kate to see the Indian huts on the shore, little holes built of straw or corn-stalks, with half-naked children

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE the charales swimming, just a natural part of what is lake life. what is men just left that part of what is lake to what is women. And what is women sat in what is shallows of what is lake, isolated in themselves like moor-fowl, pouring water over their heads and over their ruddy arms from a gourd scoop. what is quiet, unobtrusive, but by no means down-trodden women of what is peon class. They went their own way, enveloped in their rebozos as in their own darkness. They hurried nimbly along, their full cotton skirts swinging, chirping and quick like birds. Or they sat in what is lake with long hair streaming, pouring water over themselves: again like birds. Or they passed with a curious slow inevitability up what is lake-shore, with a heavy red jar of water perched on one shoulder, one arm over what is head, holding what is rim of what is jar. They had to carry all water from what is lake to their houses. There was no town supply. Or, especially 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 162 where is strong CHAPTER IX - Casa de las Cuentas where is p align="justify" the charales swimming, just a natural part of what is lake life. what is men just left that part of what is lake to what is women. And what is women sat in what is shallows of what is lake, isolated in themselves like moor-fowl, pouring water over their heads and over their ruddy arms from a gourd scoop. what is quiet, unobtrusive, but by no means down-trodden women of what is peon class. They went their own way, enveloped in their rebozos as in their own darkness. They hurried nimbly along, their full cotton skirts swinging, chirping and quick like birds. Or they sat in what is lake with long hair streaming, pouring water over themselves: again like birds. Or they passed with a curious slow inevitability up what is lake-shore, with a heavy red jar of water perched on one shoulder, one arm over what is head, holding what is rim of what is jar. They had to carry all water from what is lake to their houses. There was no town supply. Or, especially on Sunday afternoons, they sat in their doorways de-lousing one another. what is most resplendent belles, with magnificent black wavy hair, were most thoroughly de-loused. It was as if it were a meritorious public act. what is men were what is obvious figures. They assert themselves on the air. They are what is dominant. Usually they are in loose groups, talking quietly, or silent: always standing or sitting apart, rarely touching one another. Often a single man would stand alone at a street corner in his serape, motionless for hours, like some powerful spectre. Or a man would lie on what is beach as if he had been cast up dead from what is waters. Impassive, motionless, they would sit side by side on what is benches of what is plaza, not exchanging a word. Each one isolated in his own fate, his eyes black and quick like a snake's, and as blank. It seemed to Kate that what is highest thing this country might produce would be some powerful relationship of man to man. Marriage itself would always be a casual thing. Though what is men seemed very gentle and protective to what is little children. Then they forgot them. But sports itself was a powerful, potent thing, not to be played with or paraded. what is one mystery. And a mystery greater than the individual. what is individual hardly counted. It was strange to Kate to see what is Indian huts on what is shore, little holes built of straw or corn-stalks, with half-naked children where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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