From the Earth to the Moon, Direct in Ninety-Seven Hours and Twenty Minutes: and a Trip Round ItVerne, Jules
Science
From the Earth to the Moon, Direct in Ninety-Seven Hours and Twenty Minutes: and a Trip Round It
Verne, Jules
Manned space flight -- Fiction; Moon -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space flight to the moon -- Fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
For a whole month previously, the mass of these persons had bivouacked
round the enclosure, and laid the foundations for a town which was
afterwards called "Ardan's Town." The whole plain was covered with huts,
cottages, and tents. Every nation under the sun was represented there;
and every language might be heard spoken at the same time. It was a
perfect Babel re-enacted. All the various classes of American society were
mingled together in terms of absolute equality. Bankers, farmers, sailors,
cotton-planters, brokers, merchants, watermen, magistrates, elbowed
each other in the most free-and-easy way. Louisiana Creoles fraternised
with farmers from Indiana; Kentucky and Tennessee gentlemen and haughty
Virginians conversed with trappers and the half-savages of the lakes
and butchers from Cincinnati. Broad-brimmed white hats and Panamas, blue
cotton trowsers, light coloured stockings, cambric frills, were all here
displayed; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands, and neckties, upon every
finger, even upon the very _ears_, they wore an assortment of rings,
shirt-pins, brooches, and trinkets, of which the value only equalled
the execrable taste. Women, children, and servants, in equally expensive
dress, surrounded their husbands, fathers, or masters, who resembled the
patriarchs of tribes in the midst of their immense households.
At meal-times, all fell to work upon the dishes peculiar to the Southern
States, and consumed with an appetite that threatened speedy exhaustion
of the victualling powers of Florida, fricasseed frogs, stuffed monkey,
fish chowder, underdone 'possum, and raccoon steaks. And as for the
liquors which accompanied this indigestible repast! The shouts, the
vociferations that resounded through the bars and taverns decorated with
glasses, tankards, and bottles of marvellous shape, mortars for pounding
sugar, and bundles of straws! "Mint-julep!" roars one of the barmen;
"Claret sangaree!" shouts another; "Cocktail!" "Brandy-smash!" "Real
mint-julep in the new style!" All these cries intermingled produced a
bewildering and deafening hubbub.
But on this day, 1st December, such sounds were rare. No one thought
of eating or drinking, and at four p.m. there were vast numbers of
spectators who had not even taken their customary lunch! And, a still
more significant fact, even the national passion for play seemed quelled
for the time under the general excitement of the hour.
Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agitation, such as precedes great
catastrophes, ran through the anxious multitude. An indescribable
uneasiness pervaded all minds, an indefinable sensation which oppressed
the heart. Every one wished it was over.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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