Half-starved, they listen to the wail of wife and
babe, and, with eyes upraised in prayer, they see _you_ rolling by in
gilded coach, and swathed in silk attire. But--ha! again! Look--look!
they are rising in revolt against you! Speak to them before too late!
Appeal to them--quell them with the promise of the just advance of
wages they demand!"
The limp figure of Sweeney took on something of a stately and majestic
air. With a graceful and commanding gesture of the hand, he advanced a
step or two; then, after a pause of some seconds duration, in which
the lifted face grew paler, as it seemed, and the eyes a denser black,
he said:
"But yesterday
I looked away
O'er happy lands, where sunshine lay
In golden blots,
Inlaid with spots
Of shade and wild forget-me-nots."
The voice was low, but clear, and ever musical. The Professor started
at the strange utterance, looked extremely confused, and, as the
boisterous crowd cried "Hear, hear!" he motioned the subject to
continue, with some gasping comment interjected, which, if audible,
would have run thus: "My God! It's an inspirational poem!"
"My head was fair
With flaxen hair--"
resumed the subject.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25