Conradin was
dreadfully afraid of the lithe, sharp-fanged beast, but it was his
most treasured possession. Its very presence in the tool-shed was
a secret and fearful joy, to be kept scrupulously from the
knowledge of the Woman, as he privately dubbed his cousin. And
one day, out of Heaven knows what material, he spun the beast a
wonderful name, and from that moment it grew into a god and a
religion. The Woman indulged in religion once a week at a church
near by, and took Conradin with her, but to him the church service
was an alien rite in the House of Rimmon. Every Thursday, in the
dim and musty silence of the tool-shed, he worshipped with mystic
and elaborate ceremonial before the wooden hutch where dwelt
Sredni Vashtar, the great ferret. Red flowers in their season and
scarlet berries in the winter-time were offered at his shrine, for
he was a god who laid some special stress on the fierce impatient
side of things, as opposed to the Woman's religion, which, as far
as Conradin could observe, went to great lengths in the contrary
direction. And on great festivals powdered nutmeg was strewn in
front of his hutch, an important feature of the offering being
that the nutmeg had to be stolen.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95