ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Marianela, by Benito PÃ©rez GaldÃ³sThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and mostother parts of the world at no cost and with almost norestrictionswhatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms ofthe Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States,you'll haveto check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.Title: MarianelaAuthor: Benito PÃ©rez GaldÃ³sTranslator: Clara BellRelease Date: April 28, 2015 [EBook #48818]Language:English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIANELA ***Produced by Josep Cols Canals, Roberto Marabini and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was producedfrom images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)Transcriber's Notes: Format Conventions  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_  Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=  Superscriptsare denoted by '^{XX}'. For example: 1^{st}  MARIANELA  BY  B. PEREZ GALDÃS  Author of "Gloria," etc.  From the Spanish by CLARA BELL  REVISED AND CORRECTED IN THE UNITED STATES  NEWYORK  WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER  11 MURRAY STREET  1883  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883  By William S. Gottsberger  In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, atWashington  THIS TRANSLATION WAS MADE EXPRESSLY FOR THE PUBLISHER  Press of  William S. Gottsberger  New YorkTRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.Those who have read "Gloria" will, it is hoped, hail withpleasureanother work by the same writer, Perez GaldÃ³s--different it is true,but in its way not less delightful.The strongly-marked humor and darkly-painted tragedy of "Gloria" arenot to be found in "Marianela;" thecharacters are distinct and crisplysketched, but with a tender hand, the catastrophe is pitiable, rathershocking; the whole tone is idyllic.I have not hesitated to translate literally the Spanish words ofendearment; forthough they are foreign to the calmer spirit of ournorthern tongue they are too characteristic to be lost, and they arestrangely pathetic as the only outlet found for the imprisoned spiritof the hapless littleheroine.  CLARA BELL.CONTENTS.  CHAP.                                     PAGE.  I.--Gone Astray.                              1  II.--Guided Right.                           10  III.--A Dialogue which explains much.        24  IV.--StonyHearts.                           35  V.--Labor, and a Landscape with Figures.     52  VI.--Absurdities.                            62  VII.--More Absurdities.                      73  VIII.--And yet more.                         84  IX.--TheBrothers Golfin.                    98  X.--Nobody's Children.                      117  XI.--The Patriarch of Aldeacorba.           124  XII.--Doctor Celipin.                       136  XIII.--Between twoBaskets.                 144  XIV.--How the Virgin Mary appeared to Nela. 151  XV.--The Three Children.                    164  XVI.--The Vow.                              172  XVII.--A Fugitive.                          179  XVIII.--Neladecides that she must go.      192  XIX.--Nela is Tamed.                        201  XX.--A New World.                           220  XXI.--Eyes thatKill.                       234  XXII.--Farewell.                            260MARIANELA.CHAPTER I.GONE ASTRAY.The sun had set. After the brief interval of twilight the night fellcalm and dark, and in its gloomy bosom the lastsounds of a sleepyworld died gently away. The traveller went forward on his way,hastening his step as night came on; the path he followed was narrowand worn by the constant tread of men and beasts, and led gentlyup ahill on whose verdant slopes grew picturesque clumps of wild cherrytrees, beeches and oaks.--The reader perceives that we are in the northof Spain.Our traveller was a man of middle age, strongly built, tallandbroad-shouldered; his movements were brisk and resolute, his stepfirm, his manner somewhat rugged, his eye bold and bright; his pacewas nimble, considering that he was decidedly stout, and he was--thereadermay at once be told, though somewhat prematurely--as good asoul as you may meet with anywhere. He was dressed, as a man in easycircumstances should be dressed for a journey in spring weather, withone of thoseround shady hats, which, from their ugly shape, have beennicknamed mushrooms (_hongo_), a pair of field-glasses hanging to astrap, and a knotted stick which, when he did not use it to support hissteps, served topush aside the brambles when they flung their thornybranches across so as to catch his dress.He presently stopped, and gazing round the dim horizon, he seemed vexedand puzzled. He evidently was not sure of hisway and was lookinground for some passing native of the district who might give him suchtopographical information as might enable him to reach his destination."I cannot be mistaken," he said to himself. "They toldme to cross theriver by the stepping-stones--and I did so--then to walk on, straighton. And there, to my right, I do in fact, see that detestable townwhich I should call _Villafangosa_ by reason of the enormous amountofmud that chokes the streets.--Well then, I can but go 'on, straighton'--I rather like the phrase, and if I bore arms, I would adopt itfor my motto--in order to find myself at last at the famous mines ofSocartes."Butbefore he had gone much farther, he added: "I have lost my way,beyond a doubt I have lost my way.--This, Teodoro Golfin, is theresult of your 'on, straight on.' Bah! these blockheads do not knowthe meaning ofwords; either they meant to laugh at you or elsethey did not know the way to the mines of Socartes. A huge miningestablishment must be evident to the senses, with its buildings andchimneys, its noise of hammersand snorting of furnaces, neighing ofhorses and clattering of machinery--and I neither see, nor hear, norsmell anything. I might be in a desert! How absolutely solitary! If Ibelieved in witches, I could fancy that Fateintended me this night tohave the honor of making acquaintance with some. Deuce take it! why isthere no one to be seen in these parts? And it will be half an houryet before the moon rises. Ah! treacherous Luna, it isyou who are toblame for my misadventure.--If only I could see what sort of place Iam in.--However, what could I expect?" and he shrugged his shoulderswith the air of a vigorous man who scorns danger. "What, Golfin,afterhaving wandered all round the world are you going to give in now? Thepeasants were right after all: 'on, straight on.' The universal law oflocomotion cannot fail me here."And he bravely set out to test the law, andwent on about a kilometrefarther, following the paths which seemed to start from under his feet,crossing each other and breaking off at a short distance, in a thousandangles which puzzled and tired him. Stout as hisresolution was, atlast he grew weary of his vain efforts. The paths, which had at firstall led upwards, began to slope downwards as they crossed each other,and at last he came to so steep a slope that he could only hopeto getto the bottom by rolling down it."A pretty state of things!" he exclaimed, trying to console himself forthis provoking situation by his sense of the ridiculous. "Where haveyou got to now my friend? This is a perfectabyss. Is anything to beseen at the bottom. No, nothing, absolutely nothing--the hill-side hasdisappeared, the earth has been dug away. There is nothing to be seenbut stones and barren soil tinged red with iron. I havereached themines, no doubt of that--and yet there is not a living soul to be seen,no smoky chimneys; no noise, not a train in the distance, not even adog barking. What am I to do? Out there the path seems to slopeupagain.--Shall I follow that? Shall I leave the beaten track? Shall I goback again? Oh! this is absurd! Either I am not myself or I will reachSocartes to-night, and be welcomed by my worthy brother! 'On, straighton.'"Hetook a step, and his foot sank in the soft and crumbling soil."What next, ye ruling stars? Am I to be swallowed up alive? If onlythat lazy moon would favor us with a little light we might see eachother's faces--and, uponmy soul, I can hardly expect to find Paradiseat the bottom of this hole. It seems to be the crater of some extinctvolcano.... Nothing could be easier than a slide down this beautifulprecipice. What have we here?... Astone; capital--a good seat while Ismoke a cigar and wait for the moon to rise."The philosophical Golfin seated himself as calmly as if it were abench by a promenade, and was preparing for his smoke, when he heardavoice--yes, beyond a doubt, a human voice, at some little distance--aplaintive air, or to speak more accurately, a melancholy chant of asingle phrase, of which the last cadence was prolonged into a "dyingfall," andwhich at last sank into the silence of the night, so softlythat the ear could not detect when it ceased."Come," said the listener, well pleased, "there are some human beingsabout. That was a girl's voice; yes, certainly agirl's, and a lovelyvoice too. I like the popular airs of this country-side. Now it hasstopped.... Hark! it will soon begin again.... Yes, I hear it oncemore. What a beautiful voice, and what a pathetic air! You mightbelievethat it rose from the bowels of the earth, and that SeÃ±orGolfin, the most matter-of-fact and least superstitious man in thisworld, was going to make acquaintance with sylphs, nymphs, gnomes,dryads, and all therabble rout that obey the mysterious spirit of theplace.--But, if I am not mistaken, the voice is going farther away--thefair singer is departing.... Hi, girl, child, stop--wait a minute!..."The voice which had for a fewminutes so charmed the lost wanderer withits enchanting strains was dying away in the dark void, and at theshouts of Golfin it was suddenly silent. Beyond a doubt the mysteriousgnome, who was solacing itsunderground loneliness by singing itsplaintive loves, had taken fright at this rough interruption by a humanbeing, and fled to the deepest caverns of the earth, where preciousgems lay hidden, jealous of their ownsplendor."This is a pleasant state of things--" muttered Golfin, thinking thatafter all he could do no better than light his cigar.--"There seems noreason why it should not go on for a hundred years. I can smoke andwait.It was a clever idea of mine that I could walk up alone to themines of Socartes. My luggage will have got there before me--a signalproof of the advantages of 'on, straight on.'"A light breeze at this instant sprang up,and Golfin fancied heheard the sound of footsteps at the bottom of the unknown--orimaginary--abyss before him; he listened sharply, and in a minute feltquite certain that some one was walking below. He stood up andshouted:"Girl, man, or whoever you are, can I get to the mines of Socartes bythis road?"He had not done speaking when he heard a dog barking wildly, and then amanly voice saying: "Choto, Choto! come here!""Hithere!" cried the traveller. "My good friend--man, boy, demon, orwhatever you are, call back your dog, for I am a man of peace.""Choto, Choto!..."Golfin could make out the form of a large, black dog comingtowardshim, but after sniffing round him it retired at its master's call;and at that moment the traveller could distinguish a figure, a man,standing as immovable as a stone image, at about ten paces below him,on aslanting pathway which seemed to cut across the steep incline.This path, and the human form standing there, became quite clear now toGolfin, who, looking up to the sky, exclaimed:"Thank God! here is the mad moonat last; now we can see where we are.I had not the faintest notion that a path existed so close to me, why,it is quite a road. Tell me, my friend, do you know whether the minesof Socartes are hereabout?""Yes, SeÃ±or,these are the mines of Socartes; but we are at somedistance from the works."The voice which spoke thus was youthful and pleasant, with theattractive inflection that indicates a polite readiness to be ofservice. Thedoctor was well pleased at detecting this, and stillbetter pleased at observing the soft light, which was spreading throughthe darkness and bringing resurrection to earth and sky, as thoughcalling them forth fromnothingness."_Fiat lux!_" he said, going forward down the slope. "I feel as if Ihad just emerged into existence from primeval chaos.... Indeed, my goodfriend, I am truly grateful to you for the information you havegivenme, and for the farther information you no doubt will give me. I leftVillamojada as the sun was setting.--They told me to go on, straighton....""Are you going to the works?" asked the strange youth, withoutstirringfrom the spot or looking up towards the doctor, who was now quite nearhim."Yes, SeÃ±or; but I have certainly lost my way.""Well, this is not the entrance to the mines. The entrance is by thesteps atRabagones, from which the road runs and the tram-way thatthey are making. If you had gone that way you would have reached theworks in ten minutes. From here it is a long way, and a very bad road.We are at theouter circle of the mining galleries, and shall have togo through passages and tunnels, down ladders, through cuttings, upslopes, and then down the inclined plane; in short, cross the minesfrom this side to the other,where the workshops are and the furnaces,the machines and the smelting-house.""Well, I seem to have been uncommonly stupid," said Golfin, laughing."I will guide you with much pleasure, for I know every inch oftheplace."Golfin, whose feet sank in the loose earth, slipping here and totteringthere, had at last reached the solid ground of the path, and his firstidea was to look closely at the good-natured lad who addressed him.Fora minute or two he was speechless with surprise."You!" he said, in a low voice."I am blind, it is true, SeÃ±or," said the boy. "But I can run withoutseeing from one end to the other of the mines of Socartes. This stickIcarry prevents my stumbling, and Choto is always with me, when I havenot got Nela with me, who is my guide. So, follow me, SeÃ±or, and allowme to guide you."CHAPTER II.GUIDED RIGHT."And were you bornblind?" asked Golfin, with eager interest, arisingnot only from compassion."Yes, SeÃ±or, born blind," replied the lad, with perfect simplicity."I only know the world by fancy, feeling and hearing. I have learnedtounderstand that the most wonderful portion of the universe is thatwhich is unknown to me. I know that the eyes of other people are notlike mine, since they are able to distinguish things by them--but thepower seemsto me so extraordinary, that I cannot even imagine thepossibility of its existence.""Who knows ..." Golfin began. "But what strange scene is this, myfriend? What a wonderful place we are in!"The traveller, who had beenwalking by the side of his companion,stood still in astonishment at the weird view which lay before him.They were in a deep basin resembling the crater of a volcano; theground at the bottom was broken and rough, andthe sloping sides stillmore so. Round the margin and in the middle of the vast caldron,which looked even larger than it was in the deceptive chiaroscuro ofthe moonlit night, stood colossal figures, deformed caricaturesofhumanity, monsters lying prone with their feet in the air, with armsspread in despair, stunted growths, distorted faces such as we see inthe whimsical wreathing of floating clouds--but all still, silent, andturned tostone. In color they were mummy-like, a reddish bistre; theiraction suggested the delirium of fever arrested by sudden death. It wasas though giant forms had petrified in the midst of some demoniacalorgy, and theirgestures and the burlesque grimaces of the monstrousheads had been stricken into fixity, like the motionless attitudes ofsculpture. The silence which prevailed in this volcanic-looking hollowwas itself terrifying. Onemight fancy that the cries and shrieks of athousand voices had been petrified too, and had been held there lockedin stone for ages."Where are we, my young friend?" asked Golfin. "This place is like anightmare.""Thispart of the mine is called La Terrible," replied the blind boy,not appreciating his companion's frame of mind. "It was worked tillabout two years ago when the ore was exhausted, and now the miningis carried on in otherparts which are more profitable. The strangeobjects that surprise you so much are the blocks of stone which we call_cretÃ¡cea_, and which consist of hardened ferruginous clay, after theore has been extracted. I havebeen told that the effect is sublime,particularly in the moonlight; but I do not understand such things.""A wonderful effect,--yes--" said the stranger, who still stood gazingat the scene, "but which to me is more terriblethan pleasing, for itreminds me of the horrors of neuralgia.--Shall I tell you what it islike? It is as if I were standing inside a monstrous brain sufferingfrom a fearful headache. Those figures are like the imageswhichpresent themselves to the tortured brain, and become confounded withthe hideous fancies and visions created by a fevered mind.""Choto, Choto, here!" called the blind lad. "Take care now, SeÃ±or, howyou walk;we are going into a gallery." And, in fact, Golfin saw thathis guide, feeling with his stick, was making his way towards a narrowentrance distinguished by three stout posts.The dog went in first, snuffing at the blackcavern; the blind boyfollowed him with the calm indifference of a man who dwells inperpetual darkness. Golfin followed, not without some instinctivetrepidation and repugnance at an underground expedition."It is reallywonderful," he said, "that you should go in and out ofsuch a place without stumbling.""I have lived all my life in these places, and know them as well as myown home. Here it is very cold; wrap yourself up if have you acloakwith you. We shall soon be out at the other end." He walked on, feelinghis way with his hand along the wall, which was formed of uprightbeams, and saying:"Mind you do not stumble over the ruts in the path; theybring themineral along here from the diggings above. Are you cold?""Tell me," said the doctor, gaily. "Are you quite certain that theearth has not swallowed us up? This passage is the gullet of somemonstrousinsectivorous brute into whose stomach we miserable wormshave inadvertently crept.--Do you often take a walk in this delectablespot?""Yes, often, and at all hours, and I think the place delightful. Now weare in themost arid part--the ground here is pure sand--now we are onthe stones again. Here there is a constant drip of sulphurous water,and down there we have a block of rock in which there are petrifiedshells. There arelayers of slate over there. Do you hear that toadcroaking? we are near the opening now; the rascal sits there everynight; I know him quite well. He has a hoarse, slow voice.""Who--the toad?""Yes, SeÃ±or; we are nearthe end now.""So I see; it looks like an eye staring at us--that is the mouth of thecorridor."No sooner were they out in the air again, than the first thing thatstruck the doctor's ear was the same melancholy song as hehad heardbefore. The blind boy heard it too; he turned round to his companionand said, smiling with pride and pleasure:"Do you hear her?""I heard that voice before and it charmed me wonderfully. Who isthesinger?"Instead of answering, the blind boy stopped and shouted with allthe force of his lungs: "Nela! Nela!" and the name was repeated bya hundred echoes, some quite close, others faint and distant. Then,puttinghis hands to his mouth for a speaking-trumpet, he called out:"Do not come to me, I am going that way. Wait for me at the forge--atthe forge!"He turned to the doctor again and explained:"Nela is a girl who goes aboutwith me; she is my guide--my_Lazarillo_. When it was dusk we were coming home together from thegreat meadow--it was rather cool, so, as my father forbids my walkingout at night without a cloak, I waited inRomolinos' cabin, and Nelaran home to fetch it for me. After staying some little time in the hut,I remembered that I had a friend coming to see me at home and I had notpatience to wait for Nela, so I set out with Choto.I was just goingdown La Terrible when I met you. We shall soon be at the forge now andthere we must part, for my father is not pleased when I go home late,and Nela will show you the way to the works.""Many thanks,my little friend."The tunnel had brought them out at a spot even more wonderful than thatthey had left. It was an enormous gulf or chasm in the earth, lookinglike the result of an earthquake; but it had not been rentby thefierce throbs of planetary fires, but slowly wrought by the laboriouspick of the miner. It looked like the interior of a huge shipwreckedvessel, stranded on the shore, and broken across the waist by thebreakers, soas to bend it at an obtuse angle. You could fancy you sawits ribs laid bare, and their ends standing up in an irregular file onone side. Within the hollow hull lay huge stones, like the relics of acargo tossed about by the


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies, by Beatrix PotterThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: The Tale of the Flopsy BunniesAuthor: Beatrix PotterRelease Date: November 30, 2004 [EBook#14220]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF THE FLOPSY BUNNIES ***Produced by Michael Ciesielski and the Online DistributedProofreadingTeam.[Illustration][Illustration]    THE TALE OF    THE FLOPSY BUNNIES    BY    BEATRIX POTTER    _Author of    "The Tale of Peter Rabbit," &c._[Illustration]    FREDERICK WARNE & CO., INC.    NEWYORK    1909    FOR ALL LITTLE FRIENDS    OF    MR. MCGREGOR & PETER & BENJAMIN[Illustration]It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is "soporific."_I_ have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces; butthen _I_ am not arabbit.They certainly had a very soporific effect upon the Flopsy Bunnies!When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his Cousin Flopsy. They had alarge family, and they were very improvident andcheerful.I do not remember the separate names of their children; they weregenerally called the "Flopsy Bunnies."[Illustration][Illustration]As there was not always quite enough to eat,--Benjamin used toborrowcabbages from Flopsy's brother, Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden.Sometimes Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare.[Illustration][Illustration]When this happened, the Flopsy Bunnies went across thefield to a rubbishheap, in the ditch outside Mr. McGregor's garden.Mr. McGregor's rubbish heap was a mixture. There were jam pots and paperbags, and mountains of chopped grass from the mowing machine (whichalwaystasted oily), and some rotten vegetable marrows and an old boot or two.One day--oh joy!--there were a quantity of overgrown lettuces, which had"shot" into flower.[Illustration]The Flopsy Bunnies simply stuffedlettuces. By degrees, one after another,they were overcome with slumber, and lay down in the mown grass.Benjamin was not so much overcome as his children. Before going to sleephe was sufficiently wide awake toput a paper bag over his head to keepoff the flies.The little Flopsy Bunnies slept delightfully in the warm sun. From thelawn beyond the garden came the distant clacketty sound of the mowingmachine. The bluebottlesbuzzed about the wall, and a little old mousepicked over the rubbish among the jam pots.(I can tell you her name, she was called Thomasina Tittlemouse, awoodmouse with a long tail.)[Illustration][Illustration]Sherustled across the paper bag, and awakened Benjamin Bunny.The mouse apologized profusely, and said that she knew Peter Rabbit.While she and Benjamin were talking, close under the wall, they heard aheavy treadabove their heads; and suddenly Mr. McGregor emptied out asackful of lawn mowings right upon the top of the sleeping Flopsy Bunnies!Benjamin shrank down under his paper bag. The mouse hid in a jampot.[Illustration][Illustration]The little rabbits smiled sweetly in their sleep under the shower ofgrass; they did not awake because the lettuces had been so soporific.They dreamt that their mother Flopsy was tuckingthem up in a hay bed.Mr. McGregor looked down after emptying his sack. He saw some funny littlebrown tips of ears sticking up through the lawn mowings. He stared at themfor some time.Presently a fly settled on oneof them and it moved.Mr. McGregor climbed down on to the rubbish heap--"One, two, three, four! five! six leetle rabbits!" said he as he droppedthem into his sack. The Flopsy Bunnies dreamt that their motherwasturning them over in bed. They stirred a little in their sleep, but stillthey did not wake up.[Illustration][Illustration]Mr. McGregor tied up the sack and left it on the wall.He went to put away the mowingmachine.While he was gone, Mrs. Flopsy Bunny (who had remained at home) cameacross the field.She looked suspiciously at the sack and wondered where everybody was?[Illustration]Then the mouse came out of herjam pot, and Benjamin took the paper bagoff his head, and they told the doleful tale.Benjamin and Flopsy were in despair, they could not undo the string.But Mrs. Tittlemouse was a resourceful person. She nibbled ahole in thebottom corner of the sack.[Illustration]The little rabbits were pulled out and pinched to wake them.Their parents stuffed the empty sack with three rotten vegetable marrows,an old blacking-brush and twodecayed turnips.[Illustration]Then they all hid under a bush and watched for Mr. McGregor.[Illustration]Mr. McGregor came back and picked up the sack, and carried it off.He carried it hanging down, as if it were ratherheavy.The Flopsy Bunnies followed at a safe distance.[Illustration]The watched him go into his house.And then they crept up to the window to listen.[Illustration]Mr. McGregor threw down the sack on the stone floor ina way that wouldhave been extremely painful to the Flopsy Bunnies, if they had happened tohave been inside it.They could hear him drag his chair on the flags, and chuckle--"One, two, three, four, five, six leetlerabbits!" said Mr. McGregor.[Illustration][Illustration]"Eh? What's that? What have they been spoiling now?" enquired Mrs.McGregor."One, two, three, four, five, six leetle fat rabbits!" repeated Mr.McGregor, counting onhis fingers--"one, two, three--""Don't you be silly; what do you mean, you silly old man?""In the sack! one, two, three, four, five, six!" replied Mr. McGregor.(The youngest Flopsy Bunny got upon the window-sill.)Mrs.McGregor took hold of the sack and felt it. She said she could feelsix, but they must be _old_ rabbits, because they were so hard and alldifferent shapes."Not fit to eat; but the skins will do fine to line my old cloak.""Lineyour old cloak?" shouted Mr. McGregor--"I shall sell them and buymyself baccy!""Rabbit tobacco! I shall skin them and cut off their heads."[Illustration]Mrs. McGregor untied the sack and put her hand inside.When shefelt the vegetables she became very very angry. She said that Mr.McGregor had "done it a purpose."[Illustration]And Mr. McGregor was very angry too. One of the rotten marrows came flyingthrough the kitchenwindow, and hit the youngest Flopsy Bunny.It was rather hurt.[Illustration]Then Benjamin and Flopsy thought that it was time to go home.[Illustration]So Mr. McGregor did not get his tobacco, and Mrs. McGregor didnot get herrabbit skins.[Illustration]But next Christmas Thomasina Tittlemouse got a present of enoughrabbit-wool to make herself a cloak and a hood, and a handsome muff and apair of warmmittens.[Illustration][Illustration]THE TALE OF THE FLOPSY BUNNIESBY BEATRIX POTTERF. WARNE & CoEnd of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies, by Beatrix Potter*** END OF THIS PROJECTGUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF THE FLOPSY BUNNIES ******** This file should be named 14220.txt or 14220.zip *****This and all associated files of various formats will be foundin:        http://www.gutenberg.net/1/4/2/2/14220/Produced by Michael Ciesielski and the Online Distributed ProofreadingTeam.Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editionswill be renamed.Creatingthe works from public domain print editions means that noone owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States withoutpermission and withoutpaying copyright royalties.  Special rules,set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply tocopying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works toprotect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm conceptand trademark.  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ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Immensee, by Theodore W. StormThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use it underthe terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: ImmenseeAuthor: Theodore W. StormPosting Date: July 28, 2010 [EBook #6650]Release Date: October,2004Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMMENSEE ***Produced by Delphine Lettau, Charles Franks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team.IMMENSEEBY THEODOR W.STORMTRANSLATED BY C. W. BELL M. A.PREFACEWe are at the beginning of a new era which will, it is to be hoped, bemarked by a general _rapprochement_ between the nations. The need toknow and understand oneanother is being felt more and more. It followsthat the study of foreign languages will assume an ever-increasingimportance; indeed, so far as language, literature, and music areconcerned, one may safely assert that_fas est et ab hoste doceri_.All those who wish to make acquaintance with the speech of theirneighbours, or who have allowed their former knowledge to grow rusty,will welcome this edition, which will enable them,independently ofbulky dictionaries, to devote to language study the moments of leisurewhich offer themselves in the course of the day.The texts have been selected from the double point of view of theirliterary worthand of the usefulness of their vocabulary; in thetranslations, also, the endeavour has been to unite qualities of stylewith strict fidelity to the original.INTRODUCTIONTheodor W. Storm, poet and short-story writer(1817-1888), was born inSchleswig. He was called to the Bar in his native town, Husum, in1842, but had his licence to practise cancelled in 1853 for'Germanophilism,' and had to remove to Germany. It was only in1864that he was able to return to Husum, where in 1874 he became a judgeof the Court of Appeals.As early as 1843 he had made himself known as a lyrical poet of theRomantic School, but it was as a short-storywriter that he first tooka prominent place in literature, making a most happy _dÃ©but_ withthe story entitled _Immensee_.There followed a long series of tales, rich in fancy and in humour,although their inspiration isgenerally derived from the humble townand country life which formed his immediate environment; but he wrotenothing that excels, in depth and tenderness of feeling, the charmingstory of _Immensee_; and taking hiswork all in all, Storm stillranks to-day as a master of the short story in German literature, richthough it is in this form of prose-fiction.IMMENSEETHE OLD MANOne afternoon in the late autumn a well-dressed old manwas walkingslowly down the street. He appeared to be returning home from a walk,for his buckle-shoes, which followed a fashion long since out of date,were covered with dust.Under his arm he carried a long,gold-headed cane; his dark eyes, inwhich the whole of his long-lost youth seemed to have centred, andwhich contrasted strangely with his snow-white hair, gazed calmly onthe sights around him or peered into the townbelow as it lay beforehim, bathed in the haze of sunset. He appeared to be almost astranger, for of the passers-by only a few greeted him, although manya one involuntarily was compelled to gaze into those graveeyes.At last he halted before a high, gabled house, cast one more glanceout toward the town, and then passed into the hall. At the sound ofthe door-bell some one in the room within drew aside the green curtainfrom asmall window that looked out on to the hall, and the face of anold woman was seen behind it. The man made a sign to her with hiscane."No light yet!" he said in a slightly southern accent, and thehousekeeper let thecurtain fall again.The old man now passed through the broad hall, through an inner hall,wherein against the walls stood huge oaken chests bearing porcelainvases; then through the door opposite he entered a smalllobby, fromwhich a narrow staircase led to the upper rooms at the back of thehouse. He climbed the stairs slowly, unlocked a door at the top, andlanded in a room of medium size.It was a comfortable, quiet retreat.One of the walls was lined withcupboards and bookcases; on the other hung pictures of men and places;on a table with a green cover lay a number of open books, and beforethe table stood a massive arm-chair with ared velvet cushion.After the old man had placed his hat and stick in a corner, he sat downin the arm-chair and, folding his hands, seemed to be taking his restafter his walk. While he sat thus, it was growing graduallydarker; andbefore long a moonbeam came streaming through the window-panes and uponthe pictures on the wall; and as the bright band of light passed slowlyonward the old man followed it involuntarily with hiseyes.Now it reached a little picture in a simple black frame. "Elisabeth!"said the old man softly; and as he uttered the word, time had changed:_he was young again_.       *       *       *       *       *THE CHILDRENBeforevery long the dainty form of a little maiden advanced towardhim. Her name was Elisabeth, and she might have been five years old.He himself was twice that age. Round her neck she wore a red silkkerchief which wasvery becoming to her brown eyes."Reinhard!" she cried, "we have a holiday, a holiday! No school thewhole day and none to-morrow either!"Reinhard was carrying his slate under his arm, but he flung it behindthe frontdoor, and then both the children ran through the house intothe garden and through the garden gate out into the meadow. Theunexpected holiday came to them at a most happily opportune moment.It was in themeadow that Reinhard, with Elisabeth's help, had built ahouse out of sods of grass. They meant to live in it during the summerevenings; but it still wanted a bench. He set to work at once; nails,hammer, and thenecessary boards were already to hand.While he was thus engaged, Elisabeth went along the dyke, gatheringthe ring-shaped seeds of the wild mallow in her apron, with the objectof making herself chains and necklacesout of them; so that whenReinhard had at last finished his bench in spite of many a crookedlyhammered nail, and came out into the sunlight again, she was alreadywandering far away at the other end of themeadow."Elisabeth!" he called, "Elisabeth!" and then she came, her hairstreaming behind her."Come here," he said; "our house is finished now. Why, you have gotquite hot! Come in, and let us sit on the new bench. Iwill tell you astory."So they both went in and sat down on the new bench. Elisabeth took thelittle seed-rings out of her apron and strung them on long threads.Reinhard began his tale: "There were once upon a timethreespinning-women..."[1][1] The beginning of one of the best known of Grimm's fairy tales."Oh!" said Elisabeth, "I know that off by heart; you really must notalways tell me the same story."Accordingly Reinhard hadto give up the story of the threespinning-women and tell instead the story of the poor man who was castinto the den of lions."It was now night," he said, "black night, you know, and the lionswere asleep. But every nowand then they would yawn in their sleep andshoot out their red tongues. And then the man would shudder and thinkit was morning. All at once a bright light fell all about him, andwhen he looked up an angel wasstanding before him. The angel beckonedto him with his hand and then went straight into the rocks."Elisabeth had been listening attentively. "An angel?" she said. "Hadhe wings then?""It is only a story," answeredReinhard; "there are no angels, youknow.""Oh, fie! Reinhard!" she said, staring him straight in the face.He looked at her with a frown, and she asked him hesitatingly: "Well,why do they always say there are? mother,and aunt, and at school aswell?""I don't know," he answered."But tell me," said Elisabeth, "are there no lions either?""Lions? Are there lions? In India, yes. The heathen priests harnessthem to their carriages, and driveabout the desert with them. WhenI'm big, I mean to go out there myself. It is thousands of times morebeautiful in that country than it is here at home; there's no winterat all there. And you must come with me. Willyou?""Yes," said Elisabeth; "but mother must come with us, and your motheras well.""No," said Reinhard, "they will be too old then, and cannot come withus.""But I mayn't go by myself.""Oh, but you may rightenough; you will then really be my wife, andthe others will have no say in the matter.""But mother will cry!""We shall come back again of course," said Reinhard impetuously. "Nowjust tell me straight out, will you gowith me? If not, I will go allalone, and then I shall never come back again."The little girl came very near to crying. "Please don't look soangry," said she; "I will go to India with you."Reinhard seized both her hands withfrantic glee, and rushed out withher into the meadow."To India, to India!" he sang, and swung her round and round, so thather little red kerchief was whirled from off her neck. Then hesuddenly let her go and saidsolemnly:"Nothing will come of it, I'm sure; you haven't the pluck.""Elisabeth! Reinhard!" some one was now calling from the garden gate."Here we are!" the children answered, and raced home hand inhand.       *       *       *       *       *IN THE WOODSSo the children lived together. She was often too quiet for him, andhe was often too head-strong for her, but for all that they stuck toone another. They spent nearlyall their leisure hours together: inwinter in their mothers' tiny rooms, during the summer in wood andfield.Once when Elisabeth was scolded by the teacher in Reinhard's hearing,he angrily banged his slate upon thetable in order to turn uponhimself the master's wrath. This failed to attract attention.But Reinhard paid no further attention to the geography lessons, andinstead he composed a long poem, in which he comparedhimself to ayoung eagle, the schoolmaster to a grey crow, and Elisabeth to a whitedove; the eagle vowed vengeance on the grey crow, as soon as his wingshad grown.Tears stood in the young poet's eyes: he felt veryproud of himself.When he reached home he contrived to get hold of a littleparchment-bound volume with a lot of blank pages in it; and on the firstpages he elaborately wrote out his first poem.Soon after this he went toanother school. Here he made many newfriendships among boys of his own age, but this did not interrupt hiscomings and goings with Elisabeth. Of the stories which he hadformerly told her over and over again he nowbegan to write down theones which she had liked best, and in doing so the fancy often tookhim to weave in something of his own thoughts; yet, for some reason hecould not understand, he could never manage it.So hewrote them down exactly as he had heard them himself. Then hehanded them over to Elisabeth, who kept them carefully in a drawer ofher writing-desk, and now and again of an evening when he was presentit affordedhim agreeable satisfaction to hear her reading aloud toher mother these little tales out of the notebooks in which he hadwritten them.Seven years had gone by. Reinhard was to leave the town in order toproceed to hishigher education. Elisabeth could not bring herself tothink that there would now be a time to be passed entirely withoutReinhard. She was delighted when he told her one day that he wouldcontinue to write out storiesfor her as before; he would send them toher in the letters to his mother, and then she would have to writeback to him and tell him how she liked them.The day of departure was approaching, but ere it came a good dealmorepoetry found its way into the parchment-bound volume. This was the onesecret he kept from Elisabeth, although she herself had inspired thewhole book and most of the songs, which gradually had filled upalmosthalf of the blank pages.It was the month of June, and Reinhard was to start on the followingday. It was proposed to spend one more festive day together andtherefore a picnic was arranged for a rather largeparty of friends inan adjacent forest.It was an hour's drive along the road to the edge of the wood, andthere the company took down the provision baskets from the carriagesand walked the rest of the way. The road layfirst of all through apine grove, where it was cool and darksome, and the ground was allstrewed with pine needles.After half an hour's walk they passed out of the gloom of the pinetrees into a bright fresh beech wood.Here everything was light andgreen; every here and there a sunbeam burst through the leafybranches, and high above their heads a squirrel was leaping frombranch to branch.The party came to a halt at a certain spot,over which the topmostbranches of ancient beech trees interwove a transparent canopy ofleaves. Elisabeth's mother opened one of the baskets, and an oldgentleman constituted himself quartermaster."Round me, all ofyou young people," he cried, "and attend carefullyto what I have to say to you. For lunch each one of you will now gettwo dry rolls; the butter has been left behind at home. The extrasevery one must find for himself.There are plenty of strawberries inthe wood--that is, for anyone who knows where to find them. Unless youare sharp, you'll have to eat dry bread; that's the way of the worldall over. Do you understand what Isay?""Yes, yes," cried the young folks."Yes, but look here," said the old gentleman, "I have not done yet. Weold folks have done enough roaming about in our time, and therefore wewill stay at home now, here, I mean,under these wide-spreading trees,and we'll peel the potatoes and make a fire and lay the table, and bytwelve o'clock the eggs shall be boiled."In return for all this you will be owing us half of yourstrawberries, so thatwe may also be able to serve some dessert. Sooff you go now, east and west, and mind be honest."The young folks cast many a roguish glance at one another."Wait," cried the old gentleman once again. "I suppose Ineed not tellyou this, that whoever finds none need not produce any; but takeparticular note of this, that he will get nothing out of us old folkseither. Now you have had enough good advice for to-day; and if yougatherstrawberries to match you will get on very well for the presentat any rate."The young people were of the same opinion, and pairing off in couplesset out on their quest."Come along, Elisabeth," said Reinhard, "I knowwhere there is a clumpof strawberry bushes; you shan't eat dry bread."Elisabeth tied the green ribbons of her straw hat together and hung iton her arm. "Come on, then," she said, "the basket is ready."Off into thewood they went, on and on; on through moist shady glens,where everything was so peaceful, except for the cry of the falconflying unseen in the heavens far above their heads; on again throughthe thick brushwood, sothick that Reinhard must needs go on ahead tomake a track, here snapping off a branch, there bending aside atrailing vine. But ere long he heard Elisabeth behind him calling outhis name. He turned round."Reinhard!"she called, "do wait for me! Reinhard!"He could not see her, but at length he caught sight of her some wayoff struggling with the undergrowth, her dainty head just peeping outover the tops of the ferns. So back hewent once more and brought herout from the tangled mass of briar and brake into an open space whereblue butterflies fluttered among the solitary wood blossoms.Reinhard brushed the damp hair away from herheated face, and wouldhave tied the straw hat upon her head, but she refused; yet at hisearnest request she consented after all."But where are your strawberries?" she asked at length, standing stilland drawing a deepbreath."They were here," he said, "but the toads have got here before us, orthe martens, or perhaps the fairies.""Yes," said Elisabeth, "the leaves are still here; but not a wordabout fairies in this place. Come along, I'mnot a bit tired yet; letus look farther on."In front of them ran a little brook, and on the far side the woodbegan again. Reinhard raised Elisabeth in his arms and carried herover. After a while they emerged from theshady foliage and stood in awide clearing."There must be strawberries here," said the girl, "it all smells sosweet."They searched about the sunny spot, but they found none. "No," saidReinhard, "it is only the smell of theheather."Everywhere was a confusion of raspberry-bushes and holly, and the airwas filled with a strong smell of heather, patches of which alternatedwith the short grass over these open spaces."How lonely it is here!"said Elisabeth "I wonder where the othersare?"Reinhard had never thought of getting back."Wait a bit," he said, holding his hand aloft; "where is the windcoming from?" But wind there was none."Listen!" said Elisabeth,"I think I heard them talking. Just give acall in that direction."Reinhard hollowed his hand and shouted: "Come here!""Here!" was echoed back."They answered," cried Elisabeth clapping her hands."No, that was nothing;it was only the echo."Elisabeth seized Reinhard's hand. "I'm frightened!" she said."Oh! no, you must not be frightened. It is lovely here. Sit down therein the shade among the long grass. Let us rest awhile: we'll findtheothers soon enough."Elisabeth sat down under the overhanging branch of a beech andlistened intently in every direction. Reinhard sat a few paces off ona tree stump, and gazed over at her in silence.The sun wasjust above their heads, shining with the full glare ofmidday heat. Tiny, gold-flecked, steel-blue flies poised in the airwith vibrating wings. Their ears caught a gentle humming and buzzingall round them, and far away inthe wood were heard now and again thetap-tap of the woodpecker and the screech of other birds."Listen," said Elisabeth, "I hear a bell.""Where?" asked Reinhard."Behind us. Do you hear it? It is striking twelveo'clock.""Then the town lies behind us, and if we go straight through in thisdirection we are bound to fall in with the others."So they started on their homeward way; they had given up looking forstrawberries, forElisabeth had become tired. And at last there rangout from among the trees the laughing voices of the picnic party; thenthey saw too a white cloth spread gleaming on the ground; it was theluncheon-table and on itwere strawberries enough and to spare.The old gentleman had a table-napkin tucked in his button-hole and wascontinuing his moral sermon to the young folks and vigorously carvinga joint of roast meat."Here comethe stragglers," cried the young people when they sawReinhard and Elisabeth advancing among the trees."This way," shouted the old gentleman. "Empty your handkerchiefs,upside down, with your hats! Now show uswhat you have found.""Only hunger and thirst," said Reinhard."If that's all," replied the old man, lifting up and showing them thebowl full of fruit, "you must keep what you've got. You remember theagreement: nothinghere for lazybones to eat."But in the end he was prevailed on to relent; the banquet proceeded,and a thrush in a juniper bush provided the music.So the day passed. But Reinhard had, after all, found something,andthough it was not strawberries yet it was something that had grown inthe wood. When he got home this is what he wrote in his oldparchment-bound volume:    Out on the hill-side yonder       The wind to rest islaid;     Under the drooping branches       There sits the little maid.    She sits among the wild thyme,       She sits in the fragrant air;    The blue flies hum around her,       Bright wings flash everywhere.    And throughthe silent woodland       She peers with watchful eyen,    While on her hazel ringlets       Sparkles the glad sunshine.    And far, far off the cuckoo       Laughs out his song.    I ween Hers are the bright, thegolden       Eyes of the woodland queen.So she was not only his little sweetheart, but was also the expressionof all that was lovely and wonderful in his opening life.       *       *       *       *       *BY THE ROADSIDE THECHILD STOODThe time is Christmas Eve. Before the close of the afternoon Reinhardand some other students were sitting together at an old oak table in theRatskeller.[2][2] The basement of the Rathaus or Town Hall.This, in almost everyGerman town of importance, has become a restaurant and place ofrefreshment.The lamps on the wall were lighted, for down here in the basement it wasalready growing dark; but there was only athin sprinkling of customerspresent, and the waiters were leaning idly up against the pillars letinto the walls.In a corner of the vaulted room sat a fiddler and a fine-featuredgipsy-girl with a zither; their instruments layin their laps, andthey seemed to be looking about them with an air of indifference.A champagne cork popped off at the table occupied by the students."Drink, my gipsy darling!" cried a young man ofaristocraticappearance, holding out to the girl a glass full of wine."I don't care about it," she said, without altering her position."Well, then, give us a song," cried the young nobleman, and threw asilver coin into her lap.


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<TITLE>TOY STORY</TITLE>
                      "TOY STORY"                   Original Story by                     John Lasseter                      Pete Docter                     AndrewStanton                       Joe Ranft                     Screenplay by                      Joss Whedon                     Andrew Stanton              Joel Cohen and AlecSokolow                                                                        FINAL DRAFT                                                 November 1995                         "TOY STORY"FADE IN:INT. ANDY'SBEDROOMA row of moving boxes lie on the floor of the room.  Theyare drawn up in crayon to look like a miniature Western town.The bedroom is lined with cloud wallpaper giving theimpression of sky.One of theboxes has a children's illustrated "WANTED"poster of a Mr. Potato Head taped to it.A MR. POTATO HEAD DOLL is set in front of the poster.  TheVOICE OVER of ANDY, a 6-year-old boy, can be heard actingout all thevoices of the scene.                         ANDY (AS POTATO HEAD)            Alright everyone, this is a stick-            up!  Don't anybody move!  Now empty            that safe!A GROUP OF TOYS have been crowdedtogether in front of the"BANK" box.Andy's hand lowers a CERAMIC PIGGY BANK in front of Mr.Potato Head and shakes out a pile of coins to the floor.  Mr.Potato Head kisses the coins.                         ANDY (ASPOTATO HEAD)            Ooh!  Money.  Money.  Money.                   (kissing noises)A porcelain figurine of the shepherdess, BO PEEP, is broughtinto the scene.                         ANDY (AS BOPEEP)            Stop it!  Stop it, you mean old            potato!                         ANDY (AS POTATO HEAD)            Quiet Bo Peep, or your sheep get            run over!The companion porcelain sheep areplaced in the center of aHot Wheels track loop.                         ANDY (AS SHEEP)            Heeeeelp!  BAAAAA!  Heeeelp us!                         ANDY (AS BO PEEP)            Oh, no!  Not mysheep!  Somebody do            something!WOODY, a pull-string doll cowboy, enters into the sceneopposite the inanimate spud.Andy's hand pulls on the ring in the center of Woody's back.                         WOODY(VOICE BOX)            Reach for the sky.                         ANDY (AS POTATO HEAD)            Oh, no!  Sheriff Woody!!                         ANDY (AS WOODY)            I'm here to stop you, One-EyedBart.Andy's hand pulls out one of Mr. Potato Head's eyes.                         ANDY (AS POTATO HEAD)            Doooooh!  How'd you know it was me!                         ANDY (AS WOODY)            Areyou gonna come quietly?                         ANDY (AS POTATO HEAD)            You can't touch me Sheriff!  I            brought my attack dog with a built-            in force field!Andy places a TOY DOG, with aSLINKY for a mid-section, infront of Mr. Potato Head and stretches him out.                         ANDY (AS WOODY)            Well I brought my DINOSAUR, who            eats force field dogs!!Andy reveals aPLASTIC TYRANNOSAURUS REX, who stomps on theSlinky Dog.                         ANDY (AS DINOSAUR)            AAAAR!  ROAR-ROAR-ROAR!                         ANDY (AS SLINKYDOG)            YIPE!  YIPE-YIPE-YIPE!                         ANDY (AS WOODY)            You're goin' to jail, Bart.Andy picks up Mr. Potato Head and places him in a baby cribin the room.A cardboardsign is taped to the bars with the word "JAIL"written in crayon.                         ANDY (AS WOODY)            Say good-bye to the wife and            tatertots.Andy's 1-year-old sister, MOLLY, crawls over andpicks up Mr.Potato Head.  She sucks on him for a beat then proceeds topound the toy repeatedly against the rail of her crib,forcing some of his parts loose.Andy, wearing a cowboy hat himself, picks up Woody offthefloor.                         ANDY                   (pulling Woody's string)            You saved the day again, Woody.                         WOODY (VOICE BOX)            You're my favorite deputy.BEGINTITLESSONG "YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND IN ME" plays while Andy doesvarious activities with Woody:-- Andy turns the Western town boxes around to reveal cowsdrawn on the other side.  He grabs a jump rope andpretendsWoody is lassoing the cattle.                         ANDY            C'mon, let's wrangle up the cattle.-- Andy then rides Woody around on an RC (remote control)car, and herds the remaining "cow" boxesunder Molly's crib.INT. STAIRWELL-- Andy places Woody on the top of the stairwell banisterallowing the doll to slide downstairs.  Andy races ahead andcatches him at the bottom.INT. DOWNSTAIRSLIVING ROOM-- Andy & Woody fall into the La-Z-Boy chair and spin aroundand around.Next, Andy uses the La-Z-Boy foot rest as a catapult.Andy flings Woody across the room to thesofa.                         ANDY                   (raising his arms)            Score!SONG ENDSWoody lies limp on the sofa while Andy is heard talking tohis mother.                         ANDY(O.S.)            Wow!  Cool!                         MRS. DAVIS (O.S.)            Whadda ya think?                         ANDY (O.S.)            Oh, this looks GREAT, Mom!ANGLE: THE ADJOINING DININGROOMMRS. DAVIS, Andy's thirty eight-year-old mom, has justfinished decorating the area with streamers and balloons.  Abanner is draped across the archway.  It reads: "HappyBirthday Andy."Woody's frozenface stares in the direction of the birthdaydecorations.                         ANDY            Can we leave this up 'til we move?                         MRS. DAVIS            Well, sure, we can leave itup.                         ANDY            Yeah!                         MRS. DAVIS            Now go get Molly.  Your friends are            going to be here anyminute.                         ANDY            Okay.Andy picks up Woody from the couch and runs upstairs.                         ANDY            It's party time, Woody!INT. ANDY'S BEDROOM -CONTINUOUSAndy and Woody enter the room.  Molly is still bangingPotato Head against her crib railing.  Andy tips Woody's hatat her.                         ANDY            Howdy, Little Lady!He depositsWoody on the bed and pulls his string one lasttime.                         WOODY (VOICE BOX)            Somebody's poisoned the waterhole.                         ANDY                   (picking upMolly)            C'mon, Molly.  Oh, you're getting            heavy!                   (to Woody)            See ya later, Woody.Andy exits.END TITLESWoody's eyes come to life.  The cowboy doll sits up, hisexpressionchanging from a smile to worry.                         WOODY                   (to himself)            Pull my string!  The birthday            party's today?!Woody thinks.                         WOODY                   (tothe room)            Okay, everybody.  Coast is clear.The bedroom comes alive.  TOYS emerge from the toy box, thecloset, the shelves, etc... in a flurry of activity.POTATO HEAD, his body parts strewn across the floor,sitshimself upright and begins to re-assemble himself.                         MR. POTATO HEAD            Ages three and up.  It's on my box.            Ages three and up!  I'm not            supposed to be babysittingPrincess            Drool.HAMM, the piggy bank, flips one last penny into his coinslot.  Potato Head walks up to him.  All his facial piecesare in the wrong slots.                         MR. POTATO HEAD            Hey,Hamm!  Look!  I'm Picasso!                         HAMM            I don't get it.Hamm walks away.                         MR. POTATO HEAD            You uncultured swine!                   (to someoneO.S.)            What are you looking at, ya hockey            puck?!Potato Head walks past, revealing a hockey puck figurine.Woody sits on the edge of the bed observing all the activity.He turns to a plastic green armyman, SARGENT, standing onthe night stand.                         WOODY            Uh, hey Sarge, have you seen Slinky?                         SARGENT                   (saluting)            Sir!  NoSir!                         WOODY            Okay, thank you.  At ease.Woody hops off the bed.                         WOODY            Hey, Slinky?                         SLINKY (O.S.)            Right here,Woody!A toy Slinky dog, SLINKY, appears from under the bed pushingout a checker board set.  He begins to place the checkers onthe board.                         SLINKY            I'm red thistime.                         WOODY            No, Slink --                         SLINKY            Oh...well alright, you can be red            if you want.                         WOODY            Not now,Slink.  I've got some bad            news.                         SLINKY            Bad news?!                         WOODY            Sh-h-h-h-h!!Woody covers up Slinky's mouth, aware that the other toys intheroom are watching.  He leans in close to Slinky.                         WOODY                   (whispering)            Just gather everyone up for a staff            meeting and behappy!!                         SLINKY            Got it.Slinky shuffles off.                         WOODY            Be HAPPY!Slinky perks up his gait and LAUGHS HARD.Woody proceeds in the other direction.  Hepasses a toyROBOT and SNAKE partially hidden under the bedspread.                         WOODY                   (to the room)            Staff meeting, everybody.                   (aside)            Snake, Robot -- podiumduty.Robot and Snake come out from under the bed and reluctantlyfollow Woody.Woody walks past an Etch-A-Sketch, ETCH, going the otherdirection.                         WOODY            Hey Etch!  Draw!BothEtch and Woody whip around like gunfighters.Before Woody can fully extend his arm out, the Etch-A-Sketchetches a gun on its screen.                         WOODY                   (pretending to beshot)            Oh!! You got me again, Etch! You've            been working on that draw.  Fastest            knobs in the west.Slinky passes a group of toys on the floor.                         SLINKY            Got a staffmeeting, you guys, come            on, let's go!Robot and Snake begin constructing a podium made out ofLegos and a Tinker Toy tub while Woody searches the floor.                         WOODY            Now whereis that -- ?  Aw, hey,            who moved my doodle pad way over here?Woody spots the doodle pad on the floor by the desk andwalks over to it.  As he reaches down to pick it up...REX, the plastic dinosaur, jumps outto scare Woody.                         REX            ROOAAAARR!!!                         WOODY                   (unaffected)            Oh, how ya doin', Rex?Rex suddenly turns


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<title>THELMA &LOUISE</title>
                                    "THELMA & LOUISE"                                            by                                      Callie Khouri                                  Final shootingscript                                       JUNE 5, 1990                               FADE IN:               INT.  RESTAURANT - MORNING (PRESENT DAY)               LOUISE is a waitress in a coffeeshop.  She is in her early-               thirties, but too old to be doing this.  She is very pretty                and meticulously groomed, even at the end of her shift.  She                is slamming dirty coffee cups from thecounter into a bus                tray underneath the counter.  It is making a lot of RACKET,                which she is oblivious to.  There is COUNTRY MUZAK in the                b.g., which she hums alongwith.               INT.  THELMA'S KITCHEN - MORNING               THELMA is a housewife.  It's morning and she is slamming                coffee cups from the breakfast table into the kitchen sink,                whichis full of dirty breakfast dishes and some stuff left                from last night's dinner which had to "soak".  She is still                in her nightgown.  The TV is ON in the b.g.               From the kitchen, we can see anincomplete wallpapering                project going on in the dining room, an obvious "do-it-               yourself" attempt by Thelma.               INT.  RESTAURANT - MORNING               Louise goes to the payphone and dials a number.               INT.  THELMA'S KITCHEN - MORNING               Phone RINGS.  Thelma goes over to answerit.                                     THELMA                              (hollering)                         I got it!   Hello.               INT.  RESTAURANT -MORNING                                     LOUISE                              (at pay phone)                         I hope you're packed, little                          housewife, 'cause we are outtaher                          tonight.               INT.  THELMA'S KITCHEN - MORNING                                     THELMA                         Well, wait now.  I still have to ask                          Darryl if I cango.                                     LOUISE (V.O.)                         You mean you haven't asked him yet?                           For Christ sake, Thelma, is he your                          husband or your father?  It'sjust                          two days.  For God's sake, Thelma.                           Don't be a child.  Just tell him                          you're goin' with me, for cryin' out                          loud.  Tell him I'm havin' anervous                          breakdown.               Thelma has the phone tucked under her chin, as she cuts out                coupons from the newspaper and pins them on a bulletin board                already covered withthem.  We see various recipes torn out                from women's magazines along the lines of "101 Ways to Cook                Pork."                                     THELMA                         He already thinks you'reout of your                          mind, Louise, that don't carry much                          weight with Darryl.  Are you at work?                                     LOUISE (V.O.)                         No, I'm callin' from thePlayboy                          Mansion.                                     THELMA                         I'll call you right back.               Thelma goes through the living room to the bottom of the                stairs and leans onthe banister.                                     THELMA                         Darryl!  Honey, you'd better hurry                          up.               DARRYL comes trotting down the stairs.  Polyester was made                forthis man, and he's dripping in "men's" jewelry.  He                manages a Carpeteria.                                     DARRYL                         Damnit, Thelma, don't holler like                          that!  Haven't I toldyou I can't                          stand it when you holler in the                          morning.                                     THELMA                         I'm sorry, Doll, I just didn't want                          you to belate.               Darryl is checking himself out in the hall mirror, and               it's obvious he likes what he sees.  He exudes over-confidence                for reasons that never become apparent.  He likes tothink                of himself as a real lady killer.               He is making imperceptible adjustments to his over-moussed                hair.  Thelma watchesapprovingly.                                     THELMA                         Hon.                                     DARRYL                         What.                                     THELMA                              (shedecides not to                               tell him)                         Have a good day at work today.                                     DARRYL                         Uh-huh.                                     THELMA                         Hon?                                     DARRYL                         What?!                                     THELMA                         You want anything special fordinner?                                     DARRYL                         No, Thelma, I don't give a shit what                          we have for dinner.  I may not even                          make it home for dinner.  Youknow                          how Fridays are.                                     THELMA                         Funny how so many people wanna buy                          carpet on a Friday night.  You'd                          almostthink they's want to forget                          about it for the weekend.                                     DARRYL                         Well then, it's a good thing you're                          not regional manager and Iam.               He's finally ready.  He walks to the door and gives Thelma                the most perfunctory kiss on the cheek.                                     THELMA                         'Bye, honey.  I won't waitup.                                     DARRYL                         See ya.               Darryl leaves.  We see his Corvette parked out front.  As he                closes the front door, Thelma leans againstit.                                     THELMA                         He's gonna shit.               Thelma laughs to herself.  She goes back into the kitchen                and picks up the phone and dialsit.               INT.  RESTAURANT - MORNING               The pay phone on the wall RINGS.  ALBERT, a busboy in his                50's, answers.                                     ALBERT                         Goodmorning.  Why, yes, she is.  Is                          this Thelma?  Oh, Thelma, when you                          gonna run away with me?               Louise comes over and takes the phone out of hishand.                                     LOUISE                              (to Albert)                         Not this weekend, sweetie, she's                          runnin' away with me.                              (intophone)                         Hi.  What'd he say?                                     THELMA (V.O.)                         What time are you gonna pick me up?                                     LOUISE                         You'rekiddin'!  Alright!  I'll be                          there around two or three.                                     THELMA (V.O.)                         What kind of stuff do Ibring?                                     LOUISE                         I don't know.  Warm stuff, I guess.                           It's the mountains.  I guess it gets                          cold at night.  I'm just gonnabring                          everything.                                     THELMA (V.O.)                         Okay.  I will, too.                                     LOUISE                         And steal Darryl's fishin'stuff.                                     THELMA (V.O.)                         I don't know how to fish, Louise.                                     LOUISE                         Neither do I, Thelma, butDarryl                          does it, how hard can it be?  I'll                          see you later.  Be ready.               They both hang up.               EXT.  RESTAURANT - DAY               Louise pulls out in a green '66T-Bird in mint condition.               INT.  THELMA'S BEDROOM - CLOSEUP - SUITCASE ON BED - DAY               Going into the suitcase is bathing suits, wool socks, flannel                pajamas, jeans, sweaters,T-shirts, a couple of dresses, way                too much stuff for a two-day trip.  REVEAL Thelma, standing                in front of a closet, trying to decide what else to bring,                as if she's forgotten something.  Theroom looks like it was                decorated entirely from a Sears catalog.  It's really frilly.               INT.  LOUISE'S BEDROOM - CLOSEUP - SUITCASE ON BED - DAY               A perfectly ordered suitcase,everything neatly folded and                orderly.  Three pairs of underwear, one pair of long                underwear, two pairs of pants, two sweaters, one furry robe,                one nightgown.  She could be packing forcamp.               REVEAL Louise.  Her room is as orderly as the suitcase.               Everything matches.  It's not quite as frilly as Thelma's,                but it is of the same ilk.  She is debating whether totake                an extra pair of socks.  She decides not to and closes the                suitcase.  She goes to the phone, picks it up and dials.  We                hear:                                     ANSWERING MACHINE(V.O.)                         Hi.  This is Jimmy.  I'm not here                          right now, but I'll probably be back                          'cause... all my stuff's here.  Leave                          a message.               Louiseslams down the phone.  A framed picture of Louise and                Jimmy sits on the table next to the phone.  She matter-of-               factly slams that face down, too.               INT.  THELMA'S BEDROOM -DAY               Thelma is still throwing stuff in, randomly now.  She talks                to herself quietly the whole time.               She is taking stuff off of her nightstand, a small clock,                fingernail scissors,etc.               She opens the drawer of her nightstand.  Her attitude is                purposeful; she looks as if she knows exactly what she's                doing; although, frankly, she has no idea, and eachdecision                is completely arbitrary.  As she rifles through it, plucking                various items from among the jumbled contents, we see there                is a gun in there, one Darryl bought her forprotection.  It                is unloaded, but there is a box of bullets.  She picks up                the gun like it's a rat by the tail and puts it in herpurse.                                     THELMA                              (muttering to herself)                         Psycho killers...               She grabs the box of bullets and throws them in, too.  She                tries to closeher suitcase, but there is stuff hanging out                all over the place.  She stuffs things back in the sides and                heaves all her weight against the top.               EXT.  THELMA'S HOUSE -