Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 243

CHAPTER XVI - Cipriano and Kate

Away went the man, trotting barelegged, barefoot, over the stony ground, with two large sacks of charcoal on his shoulders. The men carry huge weights, without seeming ever to think they are heavy. Almost as if they liked to feel a huge weight crushing on their iron spines, and to be able to resist it.
Baskets of spring guavas, baskets of sweet lemons called linras, basket of tiny green and yellow lemons, big as walnuts; orange-red and greenish mangoes, oranges, carrots, cactus fruits in great abundance, a few knobbly potatoes, flat, pearlwhite onions, little calabazitas and speckled green calabazitas like frogs, camotes cooked and raw - she loved to watch the baskets trotting up the beach past the church.
Then, rather late as a rule, big red pots, bulging red ollas for water-jars, earthenware casseroles and earthenware jugs with cream and black scratched pattern in glaze, bowls, big flat earthenware discs for cooking tortillas - much earthenware.
On the west shore, men were running up the beach wearing twelve enormous hats at once, like a trotting pagoda. Men trotting with finely woven buaraches and rough strip sandals. And men with a few dark serapes, with gaudy rose-pink patterns, in a pile on their shoulders.
It was fascinating. But at the same time, there was a heavy, almost sullen feeling on the air. These people came to market to a sort of battle. They came, not for the joy of selling, but for the sullen contest with those who wanted what they had got. The strange, black resentment always present.
By the time the church bells clanged for sunset, the market had already begun. On all the pavements round the plaza squatted the Indians with their wares, pyramids of green watermelons, arrays of rough earthenware, hats in piles, pairs of sandals side by side, a great array of fruit, a spread of collarstuds and knick-knacks, called novedades, little trays with sweets. And people arriving all the time out of the wild country, with laden asses.
Yet never a shout, hardly a voice to be heard. None of the animation and the frank wild clamour of a Mediterranean market. Always the heavy friction of the will; always, always, grinding upon the spirit, like the grey black grind of lava-rock.
When dark fell, the vendors lighted their tin torch-lamps,

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Away went what is man, trotting barelegged, barefoot, over what is stony ground, with two large sacks of charcoal on his shoulders. what is men carry huge weights, without seeming ever to think they are heavy. Almost as if they liked to feel a huge weight crushing on their iron spines, and to be able to resist it. Baskets of spring guavas, baskets of sweet lemons called linras, basket of tiny green and yellow lemons, big as walnuts; orange-red and greenish mangoes, oranges, carrots, cactus fruits in great abundance, a few knobbly potatoes, flat, pearlwhite onions, little calabazitas and speckled green calabazitas like frogs, camotes cooked and raw - she loved to watch what is baskets trotting up what is beach past what is church. Then, rather late as a rule, big red pots, bulging red ollas for water-jars, earthenware casseroles and earthenware jugs with cream and black scratched pattern in glaze, bowls, big fla 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 243 where is strong CHAPTER XVI - Cipriano and Kate where is p align="justify" Away went what is man, trotting barelegged, barefoot, over what is stony ground, with two large sacks of charcoal on his shoulders. what is men carry huge weights, without seeming ever to think they are heavy. Almost as if they liked to feel a huge weight crushing on their iron spines, and to be able to resist it. Baskets of spring guavas, baskets of sweet lemons called linras, basket of tiny green and yellow lemons, big as walnuts; orange-red and greenish mangoes, oranges, carrots, cactus fruits in great abundance, a few knobbly potatoes, flat, pearlwhite onions, little calabazitas and speckled green calabazitas like frogs, camotes cooked and raw - she loved to watch what is baskets trotting up the beach past what is church. Then, rather late as a rule, big red pots, bulging red ollas for water-jars, earthenware casseroles and earthenware jugs with cream and black scratched pattern in glaze, bowls, big flat earthenware discs for cooking tortillas - much earthenware. On what is west shore, men were running up what is beach wearing twelve enormous hats at once, like a trotting pagoda. Men trotting with finely woven buaraches and rough strip sandals. And men with a few dark serapes, with gaudy rose-pink patterns, in a pile on their shoulders. It was fascinating. But at what is same time, there was a heavy, almost sullen feeling on what is air. These people came to market to a sort of battle. They came, not for what is joy of selling, but for the sullen contest with those who wanted what they had got. what is strange, black resentment always present. By what is time what is church bells clanged for sunset, what is market had already begun. On all what is pavements round what is plaza squatted what is Indians with their wares, pyramids of green watermelons, arrays of rough earthenware, hats in piles, pairs of sandals side by side, a great array of fruit, a spread of collarstuds and knick-knacks, called novedades, little trays with sweets. And people arriving all what is time out of what is wild country, with laden asses. Yet never a shout, hardly a voice to be heard. None of what is animation and what is frank wild clamour of a Mediterranean market. Always the heavy friction of what is will; always, always, grinding upon the spirit, like what is grey black grind of lava-rock. When dark fell, what is vendors lighted their tin torch-lamps, where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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