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WIND AND FOG
"Way for us," said the North Wind as he came down the sea on an
errand of old Winter.
And he saw before him the grey silent fog that lay along the tides.
"Way for us," said the North Wind, "O ineffectual fog, for I am
Winter's leader in his age-old war with the ships. I overwhelm
them suddenly in my strength, or drive upon them the huge seafaring
bergs. I cross an ocean while you move a mile. There is mourning in
inland places when I have met the ships. I drive them upon the rocks
and feed the sea. Wherever I appear they bow to our lord the Winter."
And to his arrogant boasting nothing said the fog. Only he rose up
slowly and trailed away from the sea and, crawling up long valleys,
took refuge among the hills; and night came down and everything was
still, and the fog began to mumble in the stillness. And I hear him telling
infamously to himself the tale of his horrible spoils. "A hundred and
fifteen galleons of old Spain, a certain argosy that went from Tyre,
eight fisher-fleets and ninety ships of the line, twelve warships under
sail, with their carronades, three hundred and eighty-seven river-craft,
forty-two merchantmen that carried spice, thirty yachts, twenty-one
battleships of the modern time, nine thousand admirals...." he mumbled
and chuckled on, till I suddenly rose and fled from his fearful
contamination.
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