- Software name: appdown
- Software type: Microsoft Framwork
- size: 858MB
IV.In booths between these houses, the gamblers, standing round a board with numbered holes, were watching the ball as it slowly spun round, hit the edge, seemed to hesitate, and at last fell into one of the cups. Four-anna pieces, ten-rupee notesanything will serve as a stake for the Hindoo ruffian in a starched shirt-front, low waistcoat and white tie, above the dhouti that hangs over his bare legs; or for the half-tipsy soldier and sailor,[Pg 28] the cautious Parsee who rarely puts down a stake, or the ragged coolie who has come to tempt fortune with his last silver bit.
I don't suppose it matters in the least whether they are stupidWe found rooms, but were guarded during the night by soldiers, who walked up and down the landing, because there were officers also staying at the hotel. Their regular footfall prevented us from sleeping a wink, but with the help of some fibs and Netherland cigars we induced them to let us go out, and we went to a sort of smith in a kind of garage160 to repair the motor-car. We turned up our sleeves and, assisted by the smith's technical directions, succeeded in putting the broken spring together, using stout steel clamps and screws.
"And what do you want to write about?"Shortly afterwards I met a Netherland Red Cross motor-car. The male nurses, who had met me already on former occasions during the war, recognised me, rushed up to me, and forced me to come with them to the car. Here they tried to explain with a torrential flow of words that I exposed myself to the greatest danger by coming here, as nearly all the soldiers were drunk, shot at every civilian, and so on.
"Last night a shooting affray took place. There is no evidence that the inhabitants of the towns had any arms in their houses, nor is there evidence that the people took part in the shooting; on the contrary, it seems that the soldiers were under the influence of alcohol, and began to shoot in a senseless fear of a hostile attack.Beyond these ruins, at the end of a long avenue bordered with tamarind trees, beyond an artificial lake, is the tomb of Shah Alam. A wide marble court; to the right a mosque with three ranks of columns; above, a massive roof crowned with a[Pg 56] bulbous dome, flanked by fragile minarets. The fountain for ablutions in the midst of the court is surmounted by a marble slab supported on slender columns. To the left, under the shade of a large tree, is the mausoleum of marble, yellow with age, looking like amber, the panels pierced with patterns of freer design than goldsmith's work.
Yet the generosity and kindness of her heart, and the number of victims she saved, outweighed, though without effacing, the disorders of her earlier life,  during the latter part of which, as the wife of a Catholic, royalist prince, whose love she returned and to whose opinions she was converted, she deeply regretted the errors of Notre Dame de Thermidor.This was the creed professed by the great scientific school of antiquity, and this was its way of protesting against the contempt of physics which prevailed among the Stoics!
to smile, but I assure you his jokes are no laughing matter.Two facts are made clear by Mr. Mokveld's book, if, indeed, the world has ever doubted them. The first is that the German authorities, believing their victory to be beyond question, deliberately sanctioned a campaign of frightfulness. They did not imagine that they would ever be held to account. They wished to terrorise their opponents by showing them what resistance involved. The atrocities were not the blunders of drink-sodden reservists, but the result of the theories of half-witted military pedants. The second is that the invading armies were as nervous as a hysterical woman. Those would-be conquerors of the world were frightened by their own shadows. A shot fired by accident from a German rifle led to tales of attacks by Belgian francs-tireurs and then to indiscriminate murder by way of revenge. Mr. Mokveld examined the legends of treacherous Belgian assaults and the 7 mutilation of the German wounded, and found them in every case wholly baseless. No German had ever seen these things happen, but had only heard of them. When definite details were given, Mr. Mokveld tracked them down and found them false. The Belgian atrocities lacked even that slender justification which belongs to reprisals. They were the work of a drunken and "rattled" soldieryfor fear is apt to make men brutaldeliberately encouraged by the authorities, who for this purpose relaxed the bonds of military discipline. When the battle of the Marne changed the complexion of affairs, these authorities grew scared and repudiated the policy, but Belgium remains a witness of what Germany's triumph means for her victims.