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The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories - ebook
The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories - ebook
Ain is a place where the great River flows under a thousand bridges, the gardens are full of fragrant flowers, and the air is filled with the melody of silver bells. This is the place where the Moon Elder rules. The lunar elder has the right to give whatever he wants, equally he can take away whatever he sees fit. He is the creator of terrible monsters from hundreds of thousands of different bodies.
Kategoria: | Suspense |
Język: | Angielski |
Zabezpieczenie: |
Watermark
|
ISBN: | 978-83-8292-735-1 |
Rozmiar pliku: | 2,7 MB |
FRAGMENT KSIĄŻKI
I am myself just as much evil as good, and my nation
is–And I say there is in fact no evil;
(Or if there is, I say it is just as important to you, to
the land, or to me, as anything else.)
Each is not for its own sake;
I say the whole earth, and all the stars in the sky are
for Religion’s sake.
I say no man has ever yet been half devout enough;
None has ever adored or worshipped half enough;
None has begun to think how divine he himself is, and
how certain the future is.–WALT WHITMAN
I have heard what the Talkers were talking–the talk
Of the beginning and the end;
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.Chapter i
Concerning Yue–Laou and the Xin I know nothing more than you shall know. I am miserably anxious to clear the matter up. Perhaps what I write may save the United Stares Government money and lives, perhaps it may arouse the scientific world to action; at any rate it will put an end to the terrible suspense of two people. Certainty is better than suspense.
If the Government dares to disregard this warning and refuses to send a thoroughly equipped expedition at once, the people of the State may take swift vengeance on the whole region and leave a blackened devastated waste where to-day forest and flowering meadow land border the lake in the Cardinal Woods.
You already know part of the story; the New York papers have been full of alleged details.
This much is true: Barris caught the “Shiner,” red handed, or rather yellow handed, for his pockets and boots and dirty fists were stuffed with lumps of gold. I say gold, advisedly. You may call it what you please. You also know how Barris was–but unless I begin at the beginning of my own experiences you will be none the wiser after all.
On the third of August of this present year I was standing in Tiffany’s, chatting with George Godfrey of the designing department. On the glass counter between us lay a coiled serpent, an exquisite specimen of chiselled gold.
“No,” replied Godfrey to my question, “it isn’t my work; I wish it was. Why, man, it’s a masterpiece!”
“Whose?” I asked... “Now I should be very glad to know also,” said Godfrey. “We bought it from an old jay who says he lives in the country somewhere about the Cardinal Woods. That’s near Starlit Lake, I believe–”
“Lake of the Stars?” I suggested.
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