Sealed Lips — page 173: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SEALED LIPS, 165 an Arab lowered himself by talking when a Euro- pean obstinately kept silence. The riders left their saddles near aspring that was partially dried up, and while the horses greedily devoured their bag of barley Patrice nibbled at, without knowing what he ate, abit of hard bread and some cold meat which Mohammed took out of the holster. Not far from them an Arab was turning with his wooden plowshare the straight piece of ground which had been already despoiled of its first har- vest. Bending over the handle of his rustic imple- ment the Mussulman walked in the furrows, threat- ening, each in turn, with his guttural cries, the two creatures that composed his yoke; on the left a thin, hairless donkey; on the right, going abreast with her companion in yoke, was a creature so black, so dilapidated and deformed, and so old, that Patrice had to look a second time to recognize that it was a woman. This unfortunate creature, nearly cut in two by the hair rope with which she was harnessed, was a woman, perspiring and puffing beside this other beast of burden, not much less resigned but less unconscious of its misery, but doubtless not more precious to her master. Who would believe it? The sight of this lament- able specimen of African civilization, the sight of this poor monster worthy of pity, made O’Farrell’s thoughts turn with more sadness yet toward the woman, who in his eyes was the personification of charm, grace, and poetry, Eomichooks.Go