Sarrasine
Sarrasine By Honore de Balzac Translated by Clara Bell and others DEDICATION To Monsieur Charles Bernard du Grail.
"I am pulling," Van answered. "But it does no good. I can't budge my
feet. I never saw such mud in all my life. It must be yards deep. It
sucks my boots right off. You'll have to help me."
"Not I! I know too well what would happen. It would be like
Kipling's story of the Elephant's Child. Don't you remember, when
the crocodile let go the nose of the little elephant how he suddenly
sat down _plop_. I've no notion of being pulled into this mud
hole when your rubber boots come to the surface. You'll have to get
yourself out."
"You old heathen! It is not a straight game to fit me out with a
pair of hip rubber boots miles too large for me and then sit and
howl when you see me losing my life in them. Well, you needn't come
into the mire if you don't want to, but you can at least be
gentleman enough to pass me the end of that pole that is lying
beside you," said Van.
"I'll do that."
Bob picked up a long branch from the ground.
"Here!" he cried. "Catch hold of this and pull."
The two boys tugged at opposite ends of the stick.
Sarrasine By Honore de Balzac Translated by Clara Bell and others DEDICATION To Monsieur Charles Bernard du Grail.