"g149v10" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ebers Georg)

kindling rapidly, coaxed the wood to unite its blaze with theirs.

Glittering sparks flew upward from the crackling branches toward the open
roof, and with them a column of warm smoke rose straight into the pure,
cool morning air; but as the door of the women's apartment now opened,
the draught swept the gray, floating pillar sideways, directly toward
Semestre, who was fanning the flames with her goose-wing.

Coughing violently, she wiped her eyes with the edge of her blue peplum,
and glanced angrily at the unbidden guest who ventured to enter the
women's apartment at this hour.

As soon as she recognized the visitor she nodded pleasantly, though with
a certain touch of condescension, and rose from her stool, but instantly
dropped back on it again, instead of going forward to meet the new-comer.
Then she planted herself still more firmly on her seat, and, instead of
uttering a friendly greeting, coughed and muttered a few unintelligible
words.

"Give me a little corner by your fire, it's a cold morning," cried the
old man in a deep voice. "Helios freezes his people before he comes,
that they may be doubly grateful for the warmth he bestows."

"You are right," replied Semestre, who had only understood a few of the
old man's words; "people ought to be grateful for a warm fire; but why,
at your age, do you go out so early, dressed only in your chiton, without
cloak or sandals, at a season when the buds have scarcely opened on the
trees. You people yonder are different from others in many respects, but
you ought not to go without a hat, Jason; your hair is as white as mine."

"And wholly gone from the crown," replied the old man, laughing. "It's
more faithful to you women; I suppose out of gratitude for the better
care you bestow. I need neither hat, cloak, nor sandals! An old
countryman doesn't fear the morning chill. When a boy, I was as white as
your master's little daughter, the fair-faced Xanthe, but now head, neck,
arms, legs, every part of me not covered by the woolen chiton, is brown
as a wine-skin before it's hung up in the smoke, and the dark hue is like
a protecting garment, nay better, for it helps me bear not only cold, but
heat. There's nothing white about me now, except the beard on my chin,
the scanty hair on my head, and, thank the gods, these two rows of sound
teeth."

Jason, as he spoke, passed his hard, brown finger over the upper and then
the under row of his teeth; but the housekeeper, puckering her mouth in
the attempt to hide many a blemish behind her own lips, answered:

"Your teeth are as faithful to you as our hair is to us, for men know how
to use them more stoutly than women. Now show what you can do. We have
a nice curd porridge, seasoned with thyme, and some dried lamb for
breakfast. If the girl hurries, you needn't wait long. Every guest,