|Subject:||biedermeier FWD: Available all 4 U. v|@gRa ` address@hidden # Va+l+ium \ Fi'0ric3t $ .Soma. , Pnterm.i.n 0eId2 dogbowl|
|Date:||Sun, 01 Aug 2004 00:04:16 -0900|
|User-agent:||AOL 3.0 16-bit for Windows sub|
shvatiti tasnim F3 svafnir There was a good deal of story-telling in some quarters; in others, little but silence. In this society, more than any other that ever I was in, it was the narrator alone who seemed to enjoy the narrative. It was rarely that any one listened for the listening. If he lent an ear to another man's story, it was because he was in immediate want of a hearer for one of his own. Food and the progress of the train were the subjects most generally treated; many joined to discuss these who otherwise would hold their tongues. One small knot had no better occupation than to worm out of me my name; and the more they tried, the more obstinately fixed I grew to baffle them. They assailed me with artful questions and insidious ht of correspondence in the future; but I was perpetually on my guard, and parried their assaults with inward laughter. I am sure Dubuque would have given me ten dollars for the secret. He owed me far more, had he understood life, for thus preserving him a lively interest throughout the journey. I met one of my fellow-passengers months after, driving a street tramway car in San Francisco; and, as the joke was now out of season, told him my name without subterfuge. You never saw a man more chapfallen. But had my name been Demogorgon, after so prolonged a mystery he had still been disappointed.
|[Prev in Thread]||Current Thread||[Next in Thread]|