My Web Site Page 027 Ovations 01

Ovations

Sitemaps

All the best stories in the world are but one story in reality--the story of an escape. It is the only thing which interests us all and at all times--how to escape. The stories of Joseph, of Odysseus, of the prodigal son, of the Pilgrim's Progress, of the "Ugly Duckling," of Sintram, to name only a few out of a great number, they are all stories of escapes. It is the same with all lovestories. "The course of true love never can run smooth," says the old proverb, and love-stories are but tales of a man or a woman's escape from the desert of lovelessness into the citadel of love. Even tragedies like those of OEdipus and Hamlet have the same thought in the background. In the tale of OEdipus, the old blind king in his tattered robe, who had committed in ignorance such nameless crimes, leaves his two daughters and the attendants standing below the old pear-tree and the marble tomb by the sacred fountain; he says the last faint words of love, till the voice of the god comes thrilling upon the air: "OEdipus, why delayest thou?"

Yes, I believe that it is right and wholesome to do this, because the most treacherous and cowardly thing we can do is to disbelieve in life. Those old dreams and visions were true enough, and they will be true again. They represent the real life to which we must try to return. We must try to build up the conception afresh, not feebly to confess that we were all astray. We cannot abolish evil by confessing ourselves worsted by it; we can only overcome it by holding fast to our belief in labour and order and peace. It is a temptation which we must resist, to philosophise too much about war. Very few minds are large enough and clear enough to hold all the problems in their grasp. I do not believe for an instant that war has falsified our vision of peace. We must cling to it more than ever, we must emphasize it, we must dwell in it. I regard war as I regard an outbreak of pestilence; the best way to resist it is not to brood over it, but to practise joy and health. The ancient plagues which devastated Europe have not been overcome by philosophy, but by the upspringing desire of men to live cleaner and more wholesome lives. That instinct is not created by any philosophy or persuasion; it just arises everywhere and finds its way to the light.

Chuganaai at once sent for Doh, the Fly, to come and erect a _kache{~COMBINING BREVE~}_, or sweat-house. It took but a short time to put up the framework, which Stenatlihan covered closely with four heavy clouds: a black cloud on the east, a blue one on the south, a yellow one on the west, and a white one on the north. Out in front of the doorway, at the east, she spread a soft red cloud for a foot-blanket after the sweat. Twelve stones were heated in a fire, and four of them placed in the _kache{~COMBINING BREVE~}_. Kuterastan, Stenatlihan, Chuganaai, and Hadintin Skhin each inspected the sweat-house and pronounced it well made. The three newcomers were bidden to enter and were followed by Chuganaai, Nilchidilhkizn, Ndidilhkizn, Nokuse, and Doh. The eight sang songs as their sweat began. Chuganaai led, singing four songs, and each of the others followed in turn with the same number. They had had a good sweat by the time the songs were finished, so Stenatlihan removed the black cloud and all came out. She then placed the three strangers on the red-cloud blanket, and under the direction of Kuterastan made for them fingers, toes, mouth, eyes, ears, hair, and nose. Then Kuterastan bade them welcome, making the boy, whom he called Yadilhkih Skhin, Sky Boy, chief of the sky and its people. The second he named Nigostu{~COMBINING BREVE~}n Nali{~COMBINING BREVE~}n, Earth Daughter, and placed her in charge of the earth and its crops; while to the third, Hadinin Nali{~COMBINING BREVE~}n, Pollen Girl, was assigned the care of the health of the earth's people. This duty also devolved upon Hadintin Skhin, but each looks more to the welfare of his own sex than to that of the other.

This page is Copyright © 2008-2009 Credik Omali. All Rights Reserved. My Web Site Page 027 is a production of Credik Omali and may not be reproduced electronically or graphically for commercial uses. Personal reproductions and browser or search engine caching are acceptable.

Ovations provided by My Web Site Page 027 are included only for information. The entertainment value of My Web Site Page 027's ovations may vary on the basis of your personal needs. Credik Omali and My Web Site Page 027 take no responsibility for the content provided by other Web sites. Links are provided "as is" without liability or warranty.