large/9676/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_03_dunsany_64kb_15
large/9676/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_03_dunsany_64kb
English
9676
But evening now came down on a dreary desolation: and a cold wind arose; and the traveller heard the mournful sound of iron flapping on broken things, and knew that this was the sound that would haunt the waste for ever. BUT EVENING NOW CAME DOWN ON A DREARY DESOLATION AND A COLD WIND AROSE AND THE TRAVELLER HEARD THE MOURNFUL SOUND OF IRON FLAPPING ON BROKEN THINGS AND KNEW THAT THIS WAS THE SOUND THAT WOULD HAUNT THE WASTE FOR EVER
 smashed it here and there, and had twisted iron as though round gigantic fingers that had twiddled it idly a moment and let it drop to lie in the rain for ever. He passed more dug-outs and black fungi, watching them; and then he left the trench, going straight on over the open: again dead grasses hissed about his feet, sometimes small wire sang faintly He passed through a belt of nettles and thence to dead grass again. And now the light of the afternoon was beginning to dwindle away. He had intended to reach his journey's end by daylight, for he was past the time of life when one wanders after dark, but he had not contemplated the difficulty of walking over that road, or dreamed that lanes he knew could be so foundered and merged, in that mournful desolate moor. Evening was filling fast, still he kept on. It was the time when the cornstacks would once have begun to grow indistinct, and slowly turn grey in the greyness, and homesteads one by one would have lit their innumerable lights. IGHTFUL SHELLS HAD SMASHED IT HERE AND THERE AND HAD TWISTED IRON AS THOUGH ROUND GIGANTIC FINGERS THAT HAD TWIDDLED IT IDLY A MOMENT AND LET IT DROP TO LIE IN THE RAIN FOR EVER HE PASSED MORE DUGOUTS AND BLACK FUNGI WATCHING THEM AND THEN HE LEFT THE TRENCH GOING STRAIGHT ON OVER THE OPEN AGAIN DEAD GRASSES HISSED ABOUT HIS FEET SOMETIMES SMALL WIRES SANG FAINTLY HE PASSED THROUGH A BELT OF NETTLES AND THENCE TO DEAD GRASS AGAIN AND NOW THE LIGHT OF THE AFTERNOON WAS BEGINNING TO DWINDLE AWAY HE HAD INTENDED TO REACH HIS JOURNEY'S END BY DAYLIGHT FOR HE WAS PAST THE TIME OF LIFE WHEN ONE WANDERS AFTER DARK BUT HE HAD NOT CONTEMPLATED THE DIFFICULTY OF WALKING OVER THAT ROAD OR DREAMED THAT LANES HE KNEW COULD BE SO FOUNDERED AND MERGED IN THAT MOURNFUL DESOLATE MOOR EVENING WAS FILLING FAST STILL HE KEPT ON IT WAS THE TIME WHEN THE CORN STALKS WOULD ONCE HAVE BEGUN TO GROW INDISTINCT AND SLOWLY TURN GRAY IN THE GREYNESS AND HOMESTEADS ONE BY ONE WOULD HAVE LIT THEIR INNUMERABLE LIGHTS
large/9676/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_03_dunsany_64kb
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