FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105  
106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   >>   >|  
she added. So saying, she waved him away with a little air of tyranny; and he perched himself boyishly on the big chair in the corner, and with idle impatience began playing with the flax on the spinning-wheel near by. Then he took to humming a ditty the Jersey housewife used to sing as she spun, while Guida disposed of the sweet-smelling fruit. Suddenly she stopped and stamped her foot. "No, no, that's not right, stupid sailor-man," she said, and she sang a verse at him over the last details of her work: "Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! The moon wheels full, and the tide flows high, And your wedding-gown you must put it on Ere the night hath no moon in the sky-- Gigoton Mergaton, spin!" She paused. He was entranced. He had never heard her sing, and the full, beautiful notes of her contralto voice thrilled him like organ music. His look devoured her, her song captured him. "Please go on," he said, "I never heard it that way." She was embarrassed yet delighted by his praise, and she threw into the next verse a deep weirdness: "Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! Your gown shall be stitched ere the old moon fade: The age of a moon shall your hands spin on, Or a wife in her shroud shall be laid-- Gigoton Mergaton, spin!" "Yes, yes, that's it!" he exclaimed with gay ardour. "That's it. Sing on. There are two more verses." "I'll only sing one," she answered, with a little air of wilfulness. "Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! The Little Good Folk the spell they have cast; By your work well done while the moon hath shone, Ye shall cleave unto joy at last-- Gigoton Mergaton, spin!" As she sang the last verse she seemed in a dream, and her rich voice, rising with the spirit of the concluding lines, poured out the notes like a bird drunk with the air of spring. "Guida," he cried, springing to his feet, "when you sing like that it seems to me I live in a world that has nothing to do with the sordid business of life, with my dull trade--with getting the weather-gauge or sailing in triple line. You're a planet all by yourself, Mistress Guida! Are you ready to come into the garden?" "Yes, yes, in a minute," she answered. "You go out to the big apple-tree, and I'll come in a minute." The apple-tree was in the farthest corner of the large garden. Near it was the summer-house where Guida and
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105  
106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Mergaton

 

Gigoton

 

corner

 
garden
 
minute
 

answered

 
cleave
 

verses

 

exclaimed

 

ardour


wilfulness
 

Little

 

sailing

 

triple

 

weather

 
planet
 

summer

 

farthest

 

Mistress

 
spring

springing

 
poured
 

rising

 

spirit

 

concluding

 

sordid

 

business

 
devoured
 

smelling

 

Suddenly


disposed

 

Jersey

 

housewife

 

stopped

 

stamped

 

sailor

 

details

 

stupid

 

humming

 

tyranny


perched

 

boyishly

 

spinning

 

impatience

 

playing

 

wheels

 
praise
 

delighted

 

Please

 

embarrassed