Оглавление
Frank Boreham. Mushrooms on the Moor
Mushrooms on the Moor
Table of Contents
PART I. CHAP. I. A SLICE OF INFINITY II. READY-MADE CLOTHES III. THE HIDDEN GOLD IV. 'SUCH A LOVELY BITE!' V. LANDLORD AND TENANT VI. THE CORNER CUPBOARD VII. WITH THE WOLVES IN THE WILD VIII. DICK SUNSHINE IX. FORTY! X. A WOMAN'S REASON. PART II. I. THE HANDICAP II. GOG AND MAGOG III. MY WARDROBE IV. 'PITY MY SIMPLICITY!' V. TUNING FROM THE BASS VI. A FRUITLESS DEPUTATION VII. TRAMP! TRAMP! TRAMP! VIII. THE FIRST MATE. PART III. CHAP. I. WHEN THE COWS COME HOME II. MUSHROOMS ON THE MOOR III. ONIONS IV. ON GETTING OVER THINGS V. NAMING THE BABY VI. THE MISTRESS OF THE MARGIN VII. LILY. BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION
FRANK W. BOREHAM. HOBART, TASMANIA, JUNE, 1915. PART I
I. A SLICE OF INFINITY. I
II
III
IV
V
VI
II
READY-MADE CLOTHES
III
THE HIDDEN GOLD
IV
'SUCH A LOVELY BITE!'
V
LANDLORD AND TENANT
VI
THE CORNER CUPBOARD
VII
WITH THE WOLVES IN THE WILD. I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VIII
DICK SUNSHINE
IX
FORTY!
X
A WOMAN'S REASON
PART II
I. THE HANDICAP. I
II
III
IV
II
GOG AND MAGOG
III
MY WARDROBE
IV
'PITY MY SIMPLICITY!'
V
TUNING FROM THE BASS
VI
A FRUITLESS DEPUTATION
VII
TRAMP! TRAMP! TRAMP. I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
THE FIRST MATE
PART III
I. WHEN THE COWS COME HOME
II
MUSHROOMS ON THE MOOR
III
ONIONS
IV
ON GETTING OVER THINGS
V
NAMING THE BABY
VI
THE MISTRESS OF THE MARGIN
VII
LILY
Отрывок из книги
Frank Boreham
Published by Good Press, 2019
.....
Why does this young man sigh for his grandfather's faith? Was his grandfather's a true faith or a false faith? If his grandfather's faith was a false faith, why does he himself so passionately covet it? Does not the very fact that he so earnestly desires his grandfather's faith as his own faith prove that he is certain that his grandfather's faith was true? And if, in the very soul of him, he feels that his grandfather's faith was true, does it not follow that he has already set his seal to the faith of his grandfather? Is he not proving most conclusively by his flashing eyes, his fervent manner, and his quivering voice that he believes most firmly in his grandfather's faith? And, if that is so, is it not a case of the lady in the tramcar over again? Is he not crying out that his soul is empty, whilst, in a secret and unexplored recess of that same soul, there reposes the very faith for which he cries?
When I was a very small boy I believed in the Man in the Moon; I believed in Santa Claus; I believed in old Mother Hubbard; I believed in the Fairy Godmother; I believed in ghosts and brownies and witches and trolls. It was a wonderful creed, that creed of my infancy. It has gone now, and it has gone unwept and unsung. I never catch myself saying that I would give my two hands, and give them cheerfully, if I could believe in those things all over again. That puerile faith was a false faith; and because I now know it to have been fictitious I smile at it to-day, and never dream of wishing that I still believed in the Man in the Moon. And, when, on the contrary, I catch a man saying with wet eyes that he would give both his hands, and give them cheerfully, if he could believe as his grandfather did, I see before me indubitable evidence of the fact that, all unconsciously, grandsire and grandson have both subscribed with fervour to the selfsame stately faith.
.....
