"Presently the crowd quieted down and the men were set around in a
semicircle with me and Somerfield at the end. Then a red-eyed old hag
tottered out and began cursing Somerfield. She spat in his face and
called him all outrageous names that came to her vindictive tongue.
Luckily it was that he had been put next, and so, forewarned, was able
to grin and bear it. But Lord, how she did tongue-lash him. Then she
took a flat piece of wood, shaped like a laurel leaf, which was fastened
to a thin strip of hide, and showed him that. It was a kind of charm,
and on it was cut one of the running lizards. She wanted him to rub it
on his forehead. Of course with his notions of religion he wouldn't do
it. That's natural. When she passed it to me, I did what she wanted
done. I never was particular that way. Symbols mean nothing anyway and
if fools are in the majority, it's no use stirring up trouble. It's
playing a lie of course, but then that's the part of wisdom it seems to
me, sometimes. It's in a line with protective coloring. You remember
what I said about the proper mounting of your specimens don't you? Well,
it's like that. That's why persecutions have never stamped out opinions
nor prohibitions appetites. The wisest keep their counsel and go on as
usual. The martyrs are the weak fools.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201