...
In another chapter I will tell you about the nigger.
And another Sunday I saw three tiny old females stumble forward, three
very formerly and even once bonnets perched upon three wizened skulls,
and flop clumsily before the priest, and take the wafer hungrily into
their leathery faces.
VII
AN APPROACH TO THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS
"Sunday (says Mr. Pound with infinite penetration) is
a dreadful day,
Monday is much pleasanter.
Then let us muse a little space
Upon fond Nature's morbid grace."
It is a great and distinct pleasure to have penetrated and arrived upon
the outside of _La Dimanche_. We may now--Nature's morbid grace being a
topic whereof the reader has already heard much and will necessarily hear
more--turn to the "much pleasanter," the in fact "Monday," aspect of La
Ferte; by which I mean _les nouveaux_ whose arrivals and reactions
constituted the actual kinetic aspect of our otherwise merely real
Nonexistence. So let us tighten our belts, (everyone used to tighten his
belt at least twice a day at La Ferte, but for another reason--to follow
and keep track of his surely shrinking anatomy) seize our staffs into our
hands, and continue the ascent begun with the first pages of the story.
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