"Dunsany, Lord - Fifty-one Tales" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dunsany Lord)

gone South as far as the high road, and saw the great
world's traffic going by, and came to lands where the potato
grew, and saw the stubble upon which men live, and at the
end of the road had found a garden, and there were roses in
it -- beautiful roses! -- and the gardener himself was there
with his braces on.
"How extremely interesting," the poultry said, "and what
a really beautiful description!"
And the Winter wore away, and the bitter months went by,
and the Spring of the year appeared, and the swallows came
again.
"We have been to the South," they said, "and the valleys
beyond the sea."
But the poultry would not agree that there was a sea in
the South: "You should hear our hen," they said.












Wind and Fog




"Way for us," said the North Wind as he came down the sea on
an errand of old Winter.
And he saw before him the grey silent fog that lay along
the tides.
"Way for us," said the North Wind, "O ineffectual fog,
for I am Winter's leader in his age-old war with the ships.
I overwhelm them suddenly in my strength, or drive upon them
the huge seafaring bergs. I cross an ocean while you move a
mile. There is mourning in inland places when I have met
the ships. I drive them upon the rocks and feed the sea.
Wherever I appear they bow to our lord the Winter."
And to his arrogant boasting nothing said the fog. Only
he rose up slowly and trailed away from the sea and,
crawling up long valleys, took refuge among the hills; and
night came down and everything was still, and the fog began
to mumble in the stillness. And I heard him telling
infamously to himself the tale of his horrible spoils. "A
hundred and fifteen galleons of old Spain, a certain argosy