Los Morel en la feria disfrutan de los juegos,
especialmente el hijo mayor. Del
clásico de D. H. Lawrence, Sons and
Lovers…
Mrs. Morel did
not like the wakes. There were two sets of horses, one going by steam, one
pulled round by a pony; three organs were grinding, and there came odd cracks
of pistol-shots, fearful screeching of the cocoanut man's rattle, shouts of the
Aunt Sally man, screeches from the
peep-show lady. The mother perceived her son gazing enraptured outside the Lion
Wallace booth, at the pictures of this famous lion that had killed a negro and
maimed for life two white men. She left him alone, and went to get Annie a spin
of toffee. Presently the lad stood in front of her, wildly excited.
"You never
said you was coming—isn't the' a lot of things?—that lion's killed three
men—I've spent my tuppence—an' look here."
He pulled from
his pocket two egg-cups, with pink moss-roses
on them.
"I got
these from that stall where y'ave ter get them marbles in them holes. An' I got
these two in two goes-'aepenny a go-they've got moss-roses on, look here. I
wanted these."
She knew he
wanted them for her.
"H'm!"
she said, pleased. "They ARE pretty!"