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Douglas, Norman, 1868-1952

"South Wind"

Perhaps it is due to the wine grown on these scorching slopes.
If geologists are right, we are sitting at this moment on the crater of
a volcano--"
"Dear me! That might be rather awkward. I suppose this pumice is very
light?"
"Light as foam. But who can believe it? The bearers move within a few
feet of us, and yet it resembles the most ponderous limestone or
granite. Then you ask yourself: How is it possible? If their burden
were what it seems to be, they would be crushed to earth instead of
striding proudly along. Admirable figures! As you say, the spectacle
takes one back into mythological times. Would you not call it a
procession of Titans, children of the Gods, storing up mountain-blocks
for some earth-convulsing battle? Your eyes deceive you. Like Thomas,
the doubting apostle, you must touch with your hands. And even then you
are not wholly convinced. To me, who knows the capacity of human bone
and muscle, these men are a daily miracle. They mock my notions of what
is permissible. How hard it is, sometimes, to trust the evidence of
one's senses! How reluctantly the mind consents to reality! The
industry is decaying," he added, "but I hope it will outlive my time.


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