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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"


The sight of male members of her race had never moved her, because she
had heard of their wickedness; but the gaze of this white man, so tender
and so innocent, set her on a long course of wondering about herself.
Then she drew back, and passed into the private hut behind, where no one
was allowed to disturb her. For she never had felt like this before, and
she wanted nobody to notice it.
But the Houla maidens, with the deepest interest in matters that came
home to them outside their understanding, held council with their
mothers, and these imparted to the angelic stranger, as plainly as
modesty permitted, the distressing results of his whiteness, and
implored him to depart, before further harm was done. Twemlow perceived
that he had tumbled into a difficult position, and the only way out of
it was to make off. Giving pledges to return in two moons at the latest,
he made his salaam to the sensitive young Queen, whose dignity was
only surpassed by her grace, and expecting to be shortened by the head,
returned with all speed to the great King Golo. Honesty is the best
policy--as we all know so well that we forbear to prove it--and the
Englishman saw that the tale would be darker from the lips of his black
attendants. The negro monarch was of much-enduring mind, but these
tidings outwent his philosophy. He ordered Twemlow's head to come off by
dinner-time, and, alas, that royal household kept very early hours; and
the poor captain, corded to a tree, sniffed sadly the growth of good
roast, which he never should taste, and could only succeed in succession
of fare.


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