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balkanizations
balkanizations
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Description
of the sun did not put an end to the
pleasure I experienced in watching my human neighbours. In the evening
the young girl and her companion were employed in various occupations
which I did not understand; and the old man again took up the
instrument which produced the divine sounds that had enchanted me in
the morning. So soon as he had finished, the youth began, not to play,
but to utter sounds that were monotonous, and neither resembling the
harmony of the old man’s instrument nor the song
Details
desired to become acquainted with it. But I was baffled in
every attempt I made for this purpose. Their pronunciation was quick, and
the words they uttered, not having any apparent connection with visible
objects, I was unable to discover any clue by which I could unravel the
mystery of their reference. By great application, however, and after having
remained during the space of several revolutions of the moon in my hovel, I
discovered the names that were given to some of the most familiar objects of
discourse; I learned and applied the words, _fire, milk, bread,_ and
_wood._ I learned also the names of the cottagers themselves. The youth
and his companion had each of them several names, but the old man had only
one, which was _father._ The girl was called _sister_ or
_Agatha,_ and the youth _Felix, brother,_ or _son_. I cannot
describe the delight I felt when I learned the ideas appropriated to each of
these sounds and was able to pronounce them. I distinguished several other
words without being able as yet to understand or apply them, such as _good,
dearest, unhappy._
“I spent the winter in this manner. The gentle manners and beauty of
the cottagers greatly endeared them to me; when they were unhappy, I
felt depressed; when they rejoiced, I sympathised in their joys. I saw
few human beings besides them, and if any other happened to enter the
cottage, their harsh manners and rude gait only enhanced to me the
superior accomplishments of my friends. The old man, I could perceive,
often endeavoured to encourage his children, as sometimes I found that
he called them, to cast off their melancholy. He would talk in a
cheerful accent, with an expression of goodness that bestowed pleasure
even upon me. Agatha listened with respect, her eyes sometimes filled
with tears, which she endeavoured to wipe away unperceived; but I
generally found that her countenance and tone were more cheerful after
having listened to the exhortations of her father. It was not thus
with