|
Our Friend
the Dog - by Maurice Maeterlinck
|
|
CHAPTER IV
|
| And
it was thus that, the
other day, before his illness, I saw my little Pelléas sitting at the
foot of my writing table, his tail carefully folded under his paws, his
head a little on one side, the better to question me, at once attentive
and tranquil, as a saint should be in the presence of God. He was happy
with the happiness which we, perhaps, shall never know, since it sprang
from the smile and the approval of a life incomparably higher than his
own. He was there, studying, drinking in all my looks; and he replied
to
them gravely, as from equal to equal, to inform me, no doubt, that, at
least through the eyes the most immaterial organ that transformed into
affectionate intelligence the light which we enjoyed, he knew that he
was
saying to me all that love should say. And, when I saw him thus, young,
ardent and believing, bringing me, in some wise, from the depths of
unwearied
nature, quite fresh news of life and trusting and wonderstruck, as
though
he had been the first of his race that came to inaugurate the earth and
as though we were still in the first days of the world's existence, I
envied
the gladness of his certainty, compared it with the destiny of man,
still
plunging on every side into darkness, and said to myself that the dog
who
meets with a good master is the happier of the two. |
 |
|
 |
|

|
|
|
|