The Story of a Life: Years of Hope, Volume 4 |
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Page 67
... steppe , on the edge of the town . The steppe was burnt brown , although it was still early summer . Warm dust whirled in the wind against the high wall of the cemetery . The wheel of the hearse caught on the gate - post . The driver ...
... steppe , on the edge of the town . The steppe was burnt brown , although it was still early summer . Warm dust whirled in the wind against the high wall of the cemetery . The wheel of the hearse caught on the gate - post . The driver ...
Page 140
... steppe . Babel lit a small lamp . The light fell on his glasses ; behind them his eyes looked inflamed ; he was always having trouble with his eyes . He got a thick wad of typescript out of his desk ; there were at least a hundred pages ...
... steppe . Babel lit a small lamp . The light fell on his glasses ; behind them his eyes looked inflamed ; he was always having trouble with his eyes . He got a thick wad of typescript out of his desk ; there were at least a hundred pages ...
Page 163
... steppe . I had also brought fishing lines and a large supply of silvered hooks . Odessa fishermen believed that sea fish take silvered hooks in preference to bronze or black . Personally , I thought this was sheer prejudice but , at the ...
... steppe . I had also brought fishing lines and a large supply of silvered hooks . Odessa fishermen believed that sea fish take silvered hooks in preference to bronze or black . Personally , I thought this was sheer prejudice but , at the ...
Contents
Forerunners of Ostap Bender page | 7 |
Plywood Maze | 25 |
Barley Gruel | 29 |
Copyright | |
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asked Babel beach believe blue brought called cliffs coat colour Commissar Comrade course dark don't door everything eyes face felt fire floor French garden gave give grey hand happened hard head heard heart hold hundred It's Ivanov Izya knew later laughing leave light living looked morning moved never night Odessa once poet port printed pulled quiet remember rolled round sailing sailors Seaman Sebastopol seemed ships shouted showed side sleep smell smoke soon sound stay stood stopped storm story Street talk tell thing thought thousand told took Torelli town trouble turned voice Volodya waited walked wall warm watched waves whole wind window write Yasha young