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时间: 2019年12月16日 12:56

"One morning as I lay in the hut watching my companions as they sat round the fire cooking their mid-day meal, a canoe suddenly came in sight. I started and rubbed my eyes, thinking it a strange illusion, but there before me were the faces of two white men, the first I had seen since that ever-memorable night when my crew deserted me. My companions kept their places before the fire and betrayed not the slightest surprise or fear while I poured out to my new-found friends the story of past years. Captain Franklin offered me a passage in his canoe, and as I took leave of the Indians, and explained that the white men would take me home, they said not a word, but went on smoking their short black pipes as though it were nothing to them." 鈥淎nd the environment does not seem to be unfavourable to moral and intellectual development.鈥? � 鈥淵ou鈥檝e put your foot down.鈥? 鈥楥hristmas Day, 1876. 鈥極n board the Nova Scotia, 三级黄色_未满18岁禁止入内_性感美女_三级黄;色_日本黄大片免费... I had expected that he would now rapidly recover, and was disappointed to see him get as I thought decidedly worse. Indeed, before long I thought him looking so ill that I insisted on his going with me to consult one of the most eminent doctors in London. This gentleman said there was no acute disease but that my young friend was suffering from nervous prostration, the result of long and severe mental suffering, from which there was no remedy except time, prosperity, and rest. But F茅lise, although a good Catholic in her very simple way, and anxious to win favour by observance of the rules of the solitary household, was wicked enough to wish that her aunt were not quite so pious. In religious matters a wide latitudinarianism prevailed at the H?tel des Grottes. There, with a serene conscience, one could eat meat on Fridays and crack a mild joke at the expense of the good Saint Peter. But neither forbidden flesh nor jocularity on any subject, let alone on a saint鈥檚 minor foibles, mitigated the austerities of the perky, wind-swept little house at Chartres. No wonder, thought F茅lise, Aunt Clothilde had married off a regiment of daughters鈥攆our to be exact; it had been an easy matter; she herself would have married any caricature of a man rather than spend her life in an atmosphere so rarefied and so depressing. She pitied her cousins, although, according to her Aunt Clothilde鈥檚 pragmatical account, they were all doing splendidly and had innumerable babies. By the end of the first week of her visit, she consolidated an intense dislike to Chartres and everything in it, especially the Cathedral. Now, it may be thought that any one who can shake the fist of disapprobation at the Cathedral of Chartres, is beyond the pale of human sympathy. But when you are dragged relentlessly thither in the icy dark of every winter morning, and the bitter gloom of every winter evening, to say nothing of sporadic attendances during the daytime, you may be pardoned if your ?sthetic perceptions are obscured by the sense of outrage inflicted on your personal comfort. To many generations of men the Cathedral has been a symbol of glories, revelations and eternities. In such slanting shafts of light, mystically hued, the Grail might have been made manifest, the Sacred Dove might have glided down to the Head of the Holy One. . . . But what need to tell of its spiritual wonders and of its mystery, the heart of which it is given to every suffering man to pluck out according to his own soul鈥檚 needs? It was a little tragedy that to poor F茅lise the Cathedral symbolised nothing but an overwhelming tyranny. She hated every stone of it, as much as she hated every shiny plank and every polished chair in her aunt鈥檚 frigid salon. Even the streets of Chartres repelled her by their bleakness. They lacked the smiling homeliness of Brant?me; and the whole place was flatter than the Sahara. She sighed for the rocks and hills of P茅rigord. He busied himself furiously with his service, and, in a few moments, was relieved to see her ceremoniously conducted by Bigourdin and F茅lise from the salle-脿-manger. On the threshold Bigourdin paused and called him. � This & much more we saw; from thence we went