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CHAPTER EIGHT

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    nandheartoftheworld.Theytaketheimpressionofthewhole.Jacobcasthiseyeoverit.Astrike,amurder,football,bodiesfoundvociferationfromallpartsofEnglandsimultaneously.HowmiserableitisthattheGlobenewspaperoffersnothingbettertoJacobFlanders!Whenachildbeginstoreadhistoryonemarvels,sorrowfully,tohearhimspelloutinhisnewvoicetheancientwords. ThePrimeMinister'sspeechwasreportedinsomethingoverfivecolumns.Feelinginhispocket,Jacobtookoutapipeandproceededtofillit.Fiveminutes,tenminutes,fifteenminutespassed.Jacobtookthepaperovertothefire.ThePrimeMinisterproposedameasureforgivingHomeRuletoIreland.Jacobknockedouthispipe.HewascertainlythinkingaboutHomeRuleinIreland—averydifficultmatter.Averycoldnight. Thesnow,whichhadbeenfallingallnight,layatthreeo'clockintheafternoonoverthefieldsandthehill.Clumpsofwitheredgrassstoodoutuponthehill-topthefurzebusheswereblack,andnowandthenablackshivercrossedthesnowasthewinddroveflurriesoffrozenparticlesbeforeit.Thesoundwasthatofabroomsweeping—sweeping. Thestreamcreptalongbytheroadunseenbyanyone.Sticksandleavescaughtinthefrozengrass.Theskywassullengreyandthetreesofblackiron.Uncompromisingwastheseverityofthecountry.Atfouro'clockthesnowwasagainfalling.Thedayhadgoneout. Awindowtingedyellowabouttwofeetacrossalonecombatedthewhitefieldsandtheblacktrees….Atsixo'clockaman'sfigurecarryingalanterncrossedthefield….Araftoftwigstayeduponastone,suddenlydetacheditself,andfloatedtowardstheculvert….Aloadofsnowslippedandfellfromafirbranch….Latertherewasamournfulcry….Amotorcarcamealongtheroadshovingthedarkbeforeit….Thedarkshutdownbehindit…. Spacesofcompleteimmobilityseparatedeachofthesemovements.Thelandseemedtoliedead….Thentheoldshepherdreturnedstifflyacrossthefield.Stifflyandpainfullythefrozenearthwastroddenunderandgavebeneathpressurelikeatreadmill.Thewornvoicesofclocksrepeatedthefactofthehourallnightlong. Jacob,too,heardthem,andrakedoutthefire.Herose.Hestretchedhimself.Hewenttobed.
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