"
He looked at my sheds.
"You've changed the look of this valley, too," he said.
"Temporary defilements," I remarked, guessing what was in his mind.
"Of course. Things come and go. Things come and go. But--H'm. I've
just been up over the hill to look at Mr. Edward Ponderevo's new house.
That--that is something more permanent. A magnificent place!--in many
ways. Imposing. I've never somehow brought myself to go that way before.
Things are greatly advanced.... We find--the great number of strangers
introduced into the villages about here by these operations, working-men
chiefly, a little embarrassing. It put us out. They bring a new
spirit into the place; betting--ideas--all sorts of queer notions.
Our publicans like it, of course. And they come and sleep in one's
outhouses--and make the place a little unsafe at nights. The other
morning I couldn't sleep--a slight dyspepsia--and I looked out of
the window. I was amazed to see people going by on bicycles. A silent
procession. I counted ninety-seven--in the dawn. All going up to the new
road for Crest Hill.
Pages:
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477