Paul Kelver

Автор

Джером Клапка Джером

Жанр

Зарубежная классика

Год написания книги

2017

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“But they were good engravings,” smiled Norah.

“I remember a favourite saying of his,” continued Norah, after a pause; “I do not know whether it was original or not. ‘The stars guide us. They are not our goal.’”

“Ah, yes, we aim at the moon and – hit the currant bush.”

“It is necessary always to allow for deflection,” laughed Norah. “Apparently it takes a would-be poet to write a successful comic opera.”

“Ah, you do not understand!” I cried. “It was not mere ambition; cap and bells or laurel wreath! that is small matter. I wanted to help. The world’s cry of pain, I used to hear it as a boy. I hear it yet. I meant to help. They that are heavy laden. I hear their cry. They cry from dawn to dawn and none heed them: we pass upon the other side. Man and woman, child and beast. I hear their dumb cry in the night. The child’s sob in the silence, the man’s fierce curse of wrong. The dog beneath the vivisector’s knife, the overdriven brute, the creature tortured for an hour that a gourmet may enjoy an instant’s pleasure; they cried to me. The wrong and the sorrow and the pain, the long, low, endless moan God’s ears are weary of; I hear it day and night. I thought to help.”

I had risen. She took my face between her quiet, cool hands.

“What do we know? We see but a corner of the scheme. This fortress of laughter that a few of you have been set apart to guard – this rallying-point for all the forces of joy and gladness! how do you know it may not be the key to the whole battle! It is far removed from the grand charges and you think yourself forgotten. Trust your leader, be true to your post.”

I looked into her sweet grey eyes.

“You always help me,” I said.

“Do I?” she answered. “I am so glad.”

She put her firm white hand in mine.

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