"
Farther on another man in a blue robe sat under a tree, with his
feet stuck out in front. By the black clay pipe he was smoking, and
by his hair that was red enough to keep a man surprised as not
harmonious with his robin's-egg blue robe, the same was Irish.
He whooped joyful to see me, and said I'd find Sadler over "beyont
the boss pagody."
"Tommy boy," he says anxious, "ye won't be shtirrin' oop the Kid. He
ain't been into anything rampageous, nor the women, nor the drink,
nor clawin' to do nothin', since we coom, and me gettin' fat with the
pacefulness of it. Lave him aisy for the love of God!"
In the cone pagoda there were people praying on the floor, and it
was ringed with little bronze Buddhas and big wooden Buddhas,
standing, sitting, and lying, that all smiled, three hundred
identical smiles. Then I came out beyond to a small temple on a
mound, a sort of pointed roof on a circle of lacquer pillars. A
yellow-robed man sat on the floor, with right shoulder bare, leaning
against a pillar. A woman stood in front of him, talking fast. Three
children were playing on the grass. You could look over the wall, and
see the shuffling crowd in the streets, and those going up and down
the stairway to the Shway Dagohn.
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