Warning: file_put_contents(/www/wwwroot/220.127.116.11/cache/9f5f76f46c630f127fc4af5e0fd0103e3e51fe8c.log): failed to open stream: No space left on device in /www/wwwroot/18.104.22.168/index.php on line 90
时间：2021-10-19 19:36:21 作者：约旦新增2499例新冠肺炎确诊病例 累计确诊277448例 浏览量：16513
The life of the school for the first six months or so was uneventful. I spent the time in learning the routine, getting acquainted with the boys, etc. My first punishment came when I had been there about eight months. I had been put to work in the kitchen, working there each morning before school for four hours; in the afternoon returning again to work till supper at six. The kitchen work was supervised by a woman, good and gentle, but inclined to be supersensitive about the authority her position conveyed. One morning I received a barrel of particularly fine apples, as I supposed, for the usual kitchen purposes. Having a few pals to whom apples would be in the nature of a treat, I selected a dozen or so of the largest and finest and stored[Pg 37] them away. Imagine my state of mind when I found out that the apples had been shipped as the special property of the kitchen overseer. Of course there was high commotion over the missing top layer, and, of course, I denied that I had seen the barrel, not to speak of opening it and abstracting the choicest dozen. It transpired that envious eyes other than mine had seen me hide them, the “stool” of the family, in fact, and he lost no time in conveying the information to the head. That night I was led gently into the punishment room, and experienced for the first time in my life the pain which sodden leather coming into violent contact with the bare skin brings. That licking was another step downward. I never got over the humiliation of that night. It made me revengeful; I vowed I would get even. I knew I did wrong in taking the apples, and it was not so much the punishment, it was the method by which I was caught and found out. That system of espionage exists and is encouraged by the officials in every penal institution I have been in. It seems that in[Pg 38] every collection of individuals, no matter the strata, there are always some a little more despicable and lower than the rest. These are termed “stool pigeons” by the men. I have found them, without exception, cowards at heart and with less soul than a corporation.
We have entered into details in order to show how destitute of all strategetical combinations was the whole plan of campaign in Syria. Malte Brun estimates the population of the district of Sham at two millions, but we are inclined to question the accuracy of this calculation, since no two travellers are agreed as to the numbers of the Druses, some estimating them at 120,000, others at a million. The Turks form two-fifths of the population—they inhabit the large towns with the Greeks; the remainder of the population is composed of Arab fellahs, of Kurds, and of Turcomans, who wander in the valley of the Orontes; of Bedouin Arabs, who pitch their tents on the banks of the Jordan and along the edge of the desert of Ansarich, worshippers of the sun, the descendants of the servants of the Old Man of the Mountain of Maronites, who profess the Catholic ritual; of Druses, whose creed is doubtful; of all the inhabitants of Mount Lebanon; of Mebualis, Mussulmans of the sect of Ali; of Naplonsins and other tribes who have preserved a state of independence. We shall not be astonished to know that amidst this prodigious diversity of races Syria is more easy to conquer than to keep possession of. With the exception of the Ansarich, who inhabit the north of Syria, all of them obeyed, at the moment when the war broke out, the Emir Bechir, a Druse, prince of the family of the celebrated Fakr el Din, who revolted against Amurath the Fourth. The Emir Bechir, when Abdallah raised the standard of revolt in 1822, sought the protection of Mehemet Ali, who reestablished him in his government.
“But you, Lewis?” the sister suddenly questioned, with an astonished stare at the rolled-up quilt under her brother’s arm.
2.Then he rose and stretched himself. ‘It’s bedding-time, for I maun be up at three,’ and with a short good night he left the room.>