Around the World Without a Cent
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- Indbinding:
- Paperback
- Sideantal:
- 210
- Udgivet:
- 28. oktober 2013
- Størrelse:
- 152x229x11 mm.
- Vægt:
- 286 g.
- 2-3 uger.
- 13. december 2024
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- 1 valgfrit digitalt ugeblad
- 20 timers lytning og læsning
- Adgang til 70.000+ titler
- Ingen binding
Abonnementet koster 75 kr./md.
Ingen binding og kan opsiges når som helst.
- 1 valgfrit digitalt ugeblad
- 20 timers lytning og læsning
- Adgang til 70.000+ titler
- Ingen binding
Abonnementet koster 75 kr./md.
Ingen binding og kan opsiges når som helst.
Beskrivelse af Around the World Without a Cent
Around the World without a Cent
By Henry Spickler Excerpt IT was somewhere in the Wicklow Mountains on the coast-road between Dublin and Cork. The hour was noon, the day cold and wet. My only lunch was a half loaf of bread strapped to the wheel, which I leaned against a sod fence, and on the easy hospitality of the Island, was admitted into an Irish woman's cottage. I had paid a certain definite respect to the other inmate of the house-a long razor-back sow that came out as I went in. For some pictures which I carried I wished to obtain some bacon, a kindness never failing among the Irish, no matter how poor they might be, little thinking that the sow had also the same pain of hunger and was so soon to satisfy it at my expense. "From Ameriky!" said she, when I told her of my mission, "whare yez hiv iv'rything to ate and dhrink, and yez come over here to stharve!" I had been listening and looking. The small chunk of peat lay on the open fire-place, smoking, but as usual not giving forth any heat. A pair of tongs and a wornout hand-bellows lay near by. In the middle of the floor was a puddle of water. An old clock that hadn't run for fifty years and a cheap crucifix were the only other ornaments on a heather-bordered shelf by a dusty chromo of the Virgin. "Youse look loike yer big and sthrong, why isn't yez home with yer folks, raisin' yer own pig?" I told her more about my travels-that I was going around the world to see how the people lived. "To see how they live? An' hasn't yez houses in Ameriky?" I told her we had. Then she "crossed" herself, as a rooster, sporting a solitary tail feather, preceded two old hens down through the window in the cabin. "Yes," I said, "I am to study people around the globe." "The globe! Now what's that?" "Why, you see I mean to go clear around the world. I am going to ride to Rome to see the Pope, and I'm now on my way to see Cork." "Ter see Cork-k ! And yez are goin' ter ride all the way jes' ter see Cork-k! Can't yez see it on the map?" Some people never see anything or get any place except on the map. She little dreamed of the great value of travel. Her vision of the earth was limited to the few wild hills around her cabin, and the map she once saw in a geography when a little girl. Little did she prize that wonderful camera, the eye, made that we might see the beauties and wonders of creation-that human lens that photographs more in ten seconds than the human mind can grasp in ten years ! Though she gave me no food, I was glad I could ride away. Like many others she was content, though her head be as empty as her house, to find out things and get to places ON THE MAP! Discouraged in spirit and hungry in stomach, I... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Windham Press is committed to bringing the lost cultural heritage of ages past into the 21st century through high-quality reproductions of original, classic printed works at affordable prices. This book has been carefully crafted to utilize the original images of antique books rather than error-prone OCR text. This also preserves the work of the original typesetters of these classics, unknown craftsmen who laid out the text, often by hand, of each and every page you will read. Their subtle art involving judgment and interaction with the text is in many ways superior and more human than the mechanical methods utilized today, and gave each book a unique, hand-crafted feel in its text that connected the reader organically to the art of bindery and book-making. We think these benefits are worth the occasional imperfection resulting from the age of these books at the time of scanning, and their vintage feel provides a connection to the past that goes beyond the mere words
By Henry Spickler Excerpt IT was somewhere in the Wicklow Mountains on the coast-road between Dublin and Cork. The hour was noon, the day cold and wet. My only lunch was a half loaf of bread strapped to the wheel, which I leaned against a sod fence, and on the easy hospitality of the Island, was admitted into an Irish woman's cottage. I had paid a certain definite respect to the other inmate of the house-a long razor-back sow that came out as I went in. For some pictures which I carried I wished to obtain some bacon, a kindness never failing among the Irish, no matter how poor they might be, little thinking that the sow had also the same pain of hunger and was so soon to satisfy it at my expense. "From Ameriky!" said she, when I told her of my mission, "whare yez hiv iv'rything to ate and dhrink, and yez come over here to stharve!" I had been listening and looking. The small chunk of peat lay on the open fire-place, smoking, but as usual not giving forth any heat. A pair of tongs and a wornout hand-bellows lay near by. In the middle of the floor was a puddle of water. An old clock that hadn't run for fifty years and a cheap crucifix were the only other ornaments on a heather-bordered shelf by a dusty chromo of the Virgin. "Youse look loike yer big and sthrong, why isn't yez home with yer folks, raisin' yer own pig?" I told her more about my travels-that I was going around the world to see how the people lived. "To see how they live? An' hasn't yez houses in Ameriky?" I told her we had. Then she "crossed" herself, as a rooster, sporting a solitary tail feather, preceded two old hens down through the window in the cabin. "Yes," I said, "I am to study people around the globe." "The globe! Now what's that?" "Why, you see I mean to go clear around the world. I am going to ride to Rome to see the Pope, and I'm now on my way to see Cork." "Ter see Cork-k ! And yez are goin' ter ride all the way jes' ter see Cork-k! Can't yez see it on the map?" Some people never see anything or get any place except on the map. She little dreamed of the great value of travel. Her vision of the earth was limited to the few wild hills around her cabin, and the map she once saw in a geography when a little girl. Little did she prize that wonderful camera, the eye, made that we might see the beauties and wonders of creation-that human lens that photographs more in ten seconds than the human mind can grasp in ten years ! Though she gave me no food, I was glad I could ride away. Like many others she was content, though her head be as empty as her house, to find out things and get to places ON THE MAP! Discouraged in spirit and hungry in stomach, I... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Windham Press is committed to bringing the lost cultural heritage of ages past into the 21st century through high-quality reproductions of original, classic printed works at affordable prices. This book has been carefully crafted to utilize the original images of antique books rather than error-prone OCR text. This also preserves the work of the original typesetters of these classics, unknown craftsmen who laid out the text, often by hand, of each and every page you will read. Their subtle art involving judgment and interaction with the text is in many ways superior and more human than the mechanical methods utilized today, and gave each book a unique, hand-crafted feel in its text that connected the reader organically to the art of bindery and book-making. We think these benefits are worth the occasional imperfection resulting from the age of these books at the time of scanning, and their vintage feel provides a connection to the past that goes beyond the mere words
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