Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

A Cathedral Singer by James Lane Allen
page 13 of 70 (18%)
flashed silver rays. The ground scattered no odors; all was the budding
youth of Nature on the rocks.

Paths wind hither and thither over this park hillside. Benches are
placed at different levels along the way. If you are going up, you may
rest; if you are coming down, you may linger; if neither going up nor
coming down, you may with a book seek out some retreat of shade and
coolness and keep at a distance the millions that rush and crush around
the park as waters roar against some lone mid-ocean island.

About eleven o'clock that morning, on one of these benches placed where
rock is steepest and forest trees stand close together and vines are
rank with shade, a sociable-looking little fellow of some ten hardy
well-buffeted years had sat down for the moment without a companion. He
had thrown upon the bench beside him his sun-faded, rain-faded,
shapeless cap, uncovering much bronzed hair; and as though by this
simple act he had cleared the way for business, he thrust one
capable-looking hand deep into one of his pockets. The fingers closed
upon what they found there, like the meshes of a deep-sea net filled
with its catch, and were slowly drawn to the surface. The catch
consisted of one-cent and five-cent pieces, representing the sales of
his morning papers. He counted the coins one by one over into the palm
of the other hand, which then closed upon the total like another net,
and dropped the treasure back into the deep sea of the other pocket.

His absorption in this process had been intense; his satisfaction with
the result was complete. Perhaps after every act of successful banking
there takes place in the mind of man, spendthrift and miser, a momentary
lull of energy, a kind of brief _Pax vobiscum_ my soul and stomach,
my twin masters of need and greed! And possibly, as the lad deposited
DigitalOcean Referral Badge