Books > Old Books > The Plumed Serpent (1926)


Page 244

CHAPTER XVI - Cipriano and Kate

and the flames wavered and streamed as the dark-faced men squatted on the ground in their white clothes and big hats, waiting to sell. They never asked you to buy. They never showed their wares. They didn't even look at you. It was as if their static resentment and indifference would hardly let them sell at all.
Kate sometimes felt the market cheerful and easy. But more often she felt an unutterable weight slowly, invisibly sinking on her spirits. And she wanted to run. She wanted, above all, the comfort of Don Ramon and the Hymns of Quetzalcoatl. This seemed to her the only escape from a world gone ghastly.
There was talk of revolution again, so the market was uneasy and grinding the black grit into the spirit. Foreign-looking soldiers were about, with looped hats, and knives and pistols, and savage northern faces: tall, rather thin figures. They would loiter about in pairs, talking in a strange northern speech, and seeming more alien even than Kate herself.
The food-stalls were brilliantly lighted. Rows of men sat at the plank boards, drinking soup and eating hot food with their fingers. The milkman rode in on horseback, his two big cans of milk slung before him, and he made his way slowly through the people to the food-stalls. There, still sitting unmoved on horseback, he delivered bowls of milk from the can in front of him, and then, on horseback like a monument, took his supper, his bowl of soup, and his plate of tamales, or of minced, fiery meat spread on tortillas. The peons drifted slowly round. Guitars were sounding, half-secretly. A motor-car worked its way in from the city, choked with people, girls, young men, city papas, children, in a pile.
The rich press of life, above the flare of torches upon the ground! The throng of white-clad, big-hatted men circulating slowly, the women with dark reboZos slipping silently. Dark trees overhead. The doorway of the hotel bright with electricity. Girls in organdie frocks, white, cherry-red, blue, from the city. Groups of singers singing inwardly. And all the noise subdued, suppressed.
The sense of strange, heavy suppression, the dead black power of negation in the souls of the peons. It was almost pitiful to see the pretty, pretty slim girls from Guadalajara going

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE and what is flames wavered and streamed as what is dark-faced men squatted on what is ground in their white clothes and big hats, waiting to sell. They never asked you to buy. They never showed their wares. They didn't even look at you. It was as if their static resentment and indifference would hardly let them sell at all. Kate sometimes felt what is market cheerful and easy. But more often she felt an unutterable weight slowly, invisibly sinking on her spirits. And she wanted to run. She wanted, above all, what is comfort of Don Ramon and what is Hymns of Quetzalcoatl. This seemed to her what is only escape from a world gone ghastly. There was talk of revolution again, so what is market was uneasy and grinding what is black grit into what is spirit. Foreign-looking soldiers were about, with looped hats, and knives and pistols, and savage northern faces: tall, rather thin figures. They would loiter about in pairs, talking in 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 244 where is strong CHAPTER XVI - Cipriano and Kate where is p align="justify" and what is flames wavered and streamed as what is dark-faced men squatted on what is ground in their white clothes and big hats, waiting to sell. They never asked you to buy. They never showed their wares. They didn't even look at you. It was as if their static resentment and indifference would hardly let them sell at all. Kate sometimes felt what is market cheerful and easy. But more often she felt an unutterable weight slowly, invisibly sinking on her spirits. And she wanted to run. She wanted, above all, what is comfort of Don Ramon and what is Hymns of Quetzalcoatl. This seemed to her what is only escape from a world gone ghastly. There was talk of revolution again, so what is market was uneasy and grinding what is black grit into what is spirit. Foreign-looking soldiers were about, with looped hats, and knives and pistols, and savage northern faces: tall, rather thin figures. They would loiter about in pairs, talking in a strange northern speech, and seeming more alien even than Kate herself. what is food-stalls were brilliantly lighted. Rows of men sat at the plank boards, drinking soup and eating hot food with their fingers. what is milkman rode in on horseback, his two big cans of milk slung before him, and he made his way slowly through what is people to the food-stalls. There, still sitting unmoved on horseback, he delivered bowls of milk from what is can in front of him, and then, on horseback like a monument, took his supper, his bowl of soup, and his plate of tamales, or of minced, fiery meat spread on tortillas. The peons drifted slowly round. Guitars were sounding, half-secretly. A motor-car worked its way in from what is city, choked with people, girls, young men, city papas, children, in a pile. what is rich press of life, above what is flare of torches upon what is ground! what is throng of white-clad, big-hatted men circulating slowly, the women with dark reboZos slipping silently. Dark trees overhead. what is doorway of what is hotel bright with electricity. Girls in organdie frocks, white, cherry-red, blue, from what is city. Groups of singers singing inwardly. And all what is noise subdued, suppressed. what is sense of strange, heavy suppression, what is dead black power of negation in what is souls of what is peons. It was almost pitiful to see what is pretty, pretty slim girls from Guadalajara going where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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