The Rivet in Grandfather's Neck: A Comedy of LimitationsCabell, James Branch
General
The Rivet in Grandfather's Neck: A Comedy of Limitations
Cabell, James Branch
Southern States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
He could not have told you. In his heart, he knew that a thorough digest
of the Wills and Orders of the Orphans' Court of any county must always
rank as a useful and creditable performance; but, from without, the
sounds and odors of Spring were calling to him, luring him, wringing his
very heart, bidding him come forth into the open and crack a jest or two
before he died, and stare at the girls a little before the match had
flickered out.
* * * * *
At this time he heard a moaning noise. The colonel gave a shrug, sighed,
and ascended to his sister's bedroom. He knew that Agatha must be ill;
and that there is no more efficient quietus to wildish meditations than
the heating of hot-water bottles and the administration of hypnotics he
had long ago discovered.
PART TWO - RENASCENCE
"As one imprisoned that hath lain alone
And dreamed of sunlight where no vagrant gleam
Of sunlight pierces, being freed, must deem
This too but dreaming, and must dread the sun
Whose glory dazzles,--even as such-an-one
Am I whose longing was but now supreme
For this high hour, and, now it strikes, esteem
I do but dream long dreamed-of goals are won.
"Phyllis, I am not worthy of thy love.
I pray thee let no kindly word be said
Of me at all, for in the train thereof,
Whenas yet-parted lips, sigh-visited,
End speech and wait, mine when I will to move,
Such joy awakens that I grow afraid."
THOMAS ROWLAND. _Triumphs of Phyllis_.
I
They passed with incredible celerity, those next ten days--those
strange, delicious, topsy-turvy days. To Rudolph Musgrave it seemed
afterward that he had dreamed them away in some vague Lotus Land--in a
delectable country where, he remembered, there were always purple eyes
that mocked you, and red lips that coaxed you now, and now cast gibes at
you.
You felt, for the most part of your stay in this country, flushed and
hot and uncomfortable and unbelievably awkward, and you were mercilessly
bedeviled there; but not for all the accumulated wealth of Samarkand and
Ind and Ophir would you have had it otherwise. Ah, no, not otherwise in
the least trifle. For now uplifted to a rosy zone of acquiescence, you
partook incuriously at table of nectar and ambrosia, and noted abroad,
without any surprise, that you trod upon a more verdant grass than
usual, and that someone had polished up the sun a bit; and, in fine, you
snatched a fearful joy from the performance of the most trivial
functions of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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