and on lush jungle depths where green-golden, bitter red and glossy blue proud tufted birds cried out with brainless scream, the moonlight slept.
The moonlight slept above dark herds moving with slow grazings in the night, it covered lonely little villages; but most of all it fell upon the unbroken undulation of the wilderness, and it blazed on windows and moved across the face of sleeping men.
Sleep lay upon the wilderness, it lay across the faces of the nations, it lay like silence on the hearts of sleeping men; and low upon lowlands, and high upon hills, flowed gently sleep, smooth-sliding sleep—sleep—sleep.
—Robert—
—Go on to bed, Gene, go to bed now, go to bed.
—There’s shump’n I mush shay t’you—
—Damn fool! Go to bed!
—Go to bed! I’ll go to bed when I’m God-damn good and ready! I’ll not go to bed when there’s shump’n I mush shay t’you—
—Go on to bed now, Gene. You’ve had enough.
—Creasman, you’re a good fellow maybe but I don’t know you…. You keep out of this…. Robert…. I’m gonna tell y’shump’n…. You made a remark t’night I didn’like—Prayin’for me, are they, Robert?
—You damn fool!—You don’t know what you’re talkin’'bout! Go on to bed!—
—I’ll go to bed, you bastard—I got shump’n to shay t’you!—Prayin.’for me, are yuh?—Pray for yourself, y’bloody little Deke!
—Damn fool’s crazy! Go on to bed now—
—I’ll bed yuh, you son-of-a-bitch! What was it that y’said that day?—
—What day? You damned fool, you don’t know what you’re saying!
—I’ll tell yuh what day!—Coming along Chestnut Street that day after school with you and me and Sunny Jim Curtis and Ed Petrie and Bob Pegram and Carl Hartshorn and Monk Paul—and the rest of those boys—
—You damn fool! Chestnut Street! I don’t know what you’re talking about!
—Yes, you do!—You and me and Bob and Carl and Irwin and Jim Homes and some other boys—’Member what y’said, yuh son-of-a-bitch? Old
