From a short story:
|
One day his mother and his Uncle Oscar came in when he was on one of his furious rides. He did not speak to them. "Hallo, you young jockey! Riding a winner?" said his uncle. "Aren't you growing too big for a rocking-horse? You're not a very little boy any longer, you know," said his mother. But Paul only gave a blue glare from his big, rather close-set eyes. He would speak to nobody when he was in full tilt. His mother watched him with an anxious expression on her face. At last he suddenly stopped forcing his horse into the mechanical gallop and slid down. "Well, I got there!" he announced fiercely, his blue eyes still flaring, and his sturdy long legs straddling apart. "Where did you get to?" asked his mother. "Where I wanted to go," he flared back at her. "That's right, son!" said Uncle Oscar. "Don't you stop till you get there. What's the horse's name?" "He doesn't have a name," said the boy. — "The Rocking-Horse Winner," by D. H. Lawrence |
"In the desert you can remember your name,
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain."
— America
See also June 12, 2005, September 11, 2007, and Something Anonymous.
