Hazen tore off the bit of paper and gave it to him. A thin man, racking thin; a forward-thrusting neck and a bony face and a sad and drooping mustache about his mouth. I was minded to do violence to Hazen Kinch. archaic (extraordinarily) extrême adj adjectif: modifie un nom. "Leiningen Versus the Ants" by Carl Stephenson is a classic short story published in the December 1938 edition of Esquire. © Copyright 2021 Saturday Evening Post Society. The thing for which I had waited — it had come. The best of The Saturday Evening Post in your inbox! He said: “Howdy, Mr. Kinch.” And he smiled in a humble and placating way. He was a little, thin, old man with meager whiskers and a curious precision of speech; and I think he got some enjoyment out of watching my expression at such remarks as this. When he laughed, which was not often, what came out was a cackle. I’ll give you a receipt. We drank, and Hazen knelt beside the child. Though Hazen pushed her, we were slow in coming to town and before we reached Hazen’s office the snow was whirling down — a pressure of driving, swirling flakes like a heavy white hand. That was not the cut of Hazen Kinch. Delhi is a stronghold of communists and pseudo liberals and yes many gundas also joined that time just to steal. It is easy to believe that a brooding God dwells upon them. He stood in the doorway blinking at us; and with his gloved hands — they were stiff and awkward with the cold — he unwound the ragged muffler that was about his neck and he brushed weakly at the snow upon his head and his shoulders. “Of course I’m going to town.”. But it was up two flights — an attic room ill lighted. Hazen’s kitchen was also living room and bedroom in the cold of winter. mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small" (sometimes Lv 7. She stood still, quivering, and he wrenched at her ear again. “If there is any spine in him he will lay the thing to you as a theft,” I suggested. Where is the boy?”. THE MILLS OF THE GODS GRIND SLOW, BUT THEY GRIND EXCEEDING SMALL. “Yet They Grind Exceeding Small”, End notes “Yet They Grind Exceeding Small”, End notes Apr. I’ve been too slack with you.”, Marshey, his dull eyes watching Hazen write the receipt, was folding the little pouch and putting it away. Her husband was going to town and she said he would get the medicine for me. “A fine boy, man! He said huskily: “Where is the boy?”. A rendition of the story "they grind exceedingly small" by Ben Williams made by the 2nd group of english class of IV-1 Einstein in Pedro E. Diaz High School Dec 28, 2020. I know, Mr. Kinch. He had not yet finished the letter when we heard Marshey returning. The road from Hazen’s house to town is compounded of such ups and downs. SUPPORT THE POST. I telephoned down the hill to Hazen Kinch. So I gave her a dollar to give him — to bring it out to me. Really helping with ways to keep my Senior Residents engaged during this COVID-19 Pandemic! Another, writing for the same publication, sees him as the master manipulator of a death cult. “Why — didn’t Marshey fetch it?” he asked. I knew Marshey. I went with him into the kitchen. I’ve been stung too often.”, “I didn’t ‘low you’d figure to trust me,” he agreed. They would have cursed, cried out upon her. Can he prove ownership? Today I was attempting to shoot smoke trails. The mare snorted and tried to rear back and Hazen clapped the butt of his whip across her knees. It must have been in her arms when we came in. I left Hazen at the stair that led to his office and I went about my business of the day. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. After a little the old money-lender leaned far back like a man wrenched with agony. He laid the gloves on the table and reached into an inner pocket of his torn coat and drew out a little cloth pouch and he fumbled into this and I heard the clink of coins. 1 through 30 I had it in me — though I had reason enough to despise the little man — to pity Hazen Kinch. “Go ahead,” he agreed, halfway down the stairs. “Likely! Mississippi-born and Dartmouth-educated Ben Ames Williams published 38 novels and nearly 400 short stories in his lifetime, many of the latter appearing in The Saturday Evening Post. Buy Now. “The white-whiskered skunk!” he said, and I knew he spoke of Hazen. “He coughed,” said the woman. Who said "the wheels of god grind slowly but they grind exceeding small"? She said: “I did all I could.”. Hazen looked down at the little body. Marshey blinked as he came nearer, and his weak nearsighted eyes turned from Hazen to me. Even in his slow shuffle there was a hint of trembling eagerness to escape. I said nothing. Your support helps us preserve a great American legacy. 287 ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά, the mills of the gods are late to grind, but they grind small. He stared at me and he laughed. Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access. We saw once where a fox had pinned a big snowshoe rabbit in a drift. How much can you pay?”. I have sometimes thought the gray devils must have left just such hate-bred babes as this in France. I wondered as I plowed my way down to Hazen Kinch’s farm whether God did indeed dwell among these hills; and I wondered what He thought of Hazen Kinch. We got into the sleigh, bundling ourselves into the robes for the six-mile drive along the drifted road to town. What did he do with that?”, “He said,” the woman answered, “that he lost it — in your office; lost the money there.”. Some of these cookies are essential to the operation of the site, while others help to improve your experience by providing insights into how the site is being used. He saw my glance and said angrily: “I’ve slept on the floor before.”. It was my impulse to give him the dollar he needed, but I did not do it. “They Grind Exceeding Small” (story from my file) theshepherdspresence ♦ January 6, 2016 ♦ 1 Comment. On the white pages of the snow wild things had writ here and there the fine-traced tale of their morning’s adventuring. “The money! After a little he tried to speak. He put a pathetic trust in that safe. “I lost a dollar,” Marshey told him. “I knew it was croup. The child was on the floor. We made good time. There was a dumb submission in her eyes; but through this blank veil I had seen now and then a blaze of pain. He did not know. Therefore I watched him. He led the mare out and stopped by the kitchen door. His dry mouth opened wide. The spectator stares with half-caught breath, afraid to see and afraid to miss seeing the ultimate catastrophe. Hazen was sitting with the table between him and the man and I was a little behind Hazen at one side. Performance & security by Cloudflare, Please complete the security check to access. His hands were blue. Shut the door! Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access. Ben Ames Williams. Your IP: 91.121.184.169 Then he sat still and watched the door. When we took the road the mare was limping. Hazen took them out of his hand and counted them swiftly. The vast hills in their snowy garments looked down upon the land, upon the house of Hazen Kinch. The wind had a sweep in that valley and there was a drift of snow across it and across the road. Get help with your writing. This expression comes from ancient Greek, translated as "The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small." Hazen Kinch was driven to questions. That which had brought me to town was not engrossing. All in a silence that was deadly. Cloudflare Ray ID: 611fe4fa4f73d90d I met him as I climbed the stairs. All Rights Reserved. Subscribe and get unlimited access to our online magazine archive. “Ha!” he said. Recommended. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes Little Dorrit On the Improvement of the Understanding The Eye of the World The Strain (The Strain Trilogy) A Strangeness in My Mind Saint Joan Three Act Tragedy Voyager (Outlander #3) Eugénie Grandet. A fine boy!”. mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small phrase. This drift was well packed by the wind, but when we drove over its top our left-hand runner broke through the coaming and we tumbled into the snow, Hazen and I. Bullshit. A fine man, I had thought him. Doan took it and he said humbly: “Thank’e, sir.”, “Mind now,” he exclaimed, and Marshey said: “I’ll do my best, Mr. Kinch.”. Doan shuffled in and he shut the door behind him. The mare was a good animal, fast and strong. Join. Small at first, and weak, and frail: Like the vapour of a vale : Till as clouds grow on the blast, Like tower-crowned giants striding fast, And glare with lightnings as they fly, And speak in thunder to the sky. “It wa’n’t mine.”, Hazen Kinch exclaimed: “By God, I believe you’re accusing me!”. Discover the benefits that come with your membership. When he loaned them money, they never got out of debt. The group of workingmen, who in May, 1886, held on the Haymarket of Chicago, with the consent of the Mayor, an indignation meeting to protest against the murder committed by the militia upon the inoffensive … They Grind Exceeding Small. He became white as death itself. They Grind Exceeding Small Ben Ames Williams Hazen Kinch was a miser. She closed them, opened them again. I didn’t ‘low you would.”. The best of The Saturday Evening Post in your inbox! She said slowly: “They would not trust him — at the store.”, “The money!” he cried. You know I asked you to get the medicine — ipecac. When the door opened we saw who it was. The stablemen had tended the welt, and cursed Hazen in my hearing. To me the hills are never so grand as in this winter coat they wear. But she seemed to work out the stiffness in her knees and after a mile or so of the hard going she was moving smoothly enough. Hazen had a letter to write and he bent to it. Learn vocabulary, terms, and more with flashcards, games, and other study tools. They Grind Exceeding Small book. I believe I could have opened it with a screwdriver. It is a translation, probably by Stephenson himself, of "Leiningens Kampf mit den Ameisen" which was originally published in German in 1938. “You” are bound to miss the significance of such things as the noisy Japanese cars and the giant mansions. There was an evil malevolence in his baby eyes. The arrangement saved firewood. hazen, i asked, are you going to town today yes, yes, he She looked at him and her lips moved soundlessly. He went out and down the stairs. It grew—a Shape arrayed in mail: Brighter than the viper’s scale, And upborne on wings whose grain: Was as the light of sunny rain. Some 1,600 years ago the Greek philosopher Sextus Empiricus wrote: 'The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small.' “Open the door.”. “Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.” ― Henry Wadsworth Longellow tags: god, justice, patience, retribution Read more quotes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow That jerking, suppressed smile upon his white and tortured countenance was terrible. He pulled the mare’s head down and twisted the ear viciously. Some men, blaming the beast without reason, would have beaten her. “I’ve a matter of business,” I suggested. “Come along,” he invited brusquely. Subscribe now. It was still snowing, and the stable boss, looking out at the driving flakes, spat upon the ground and said to me: “Them legs’ll go stiff. Hazen had a table and two chairs, and an iron safe in the corner. They Grind Exceeding Small By Ben Ames Williams The. I do not know what he meant to say. I was always interested in the man’s mental processes. The woman had a drink of milk and egg and rum, hot and ready for us. Who would give you a dollar? Come! He made no move to touch it, but I heard him whisper to himself: “Fine boy.”, After a while he looked at the woman. His wife was there, and their child. Interpretation Translation  mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small. No, sir.” His eyes once more wandered about the room. Certainly I was the only man who had in any degree his confidence. I sat by the stove and watched him and considered. At the sound of his weary feet some tide of indignation surged up in me. There was a steel-gray veil drawn across the bay. The glare of the sun upon the snow was almost unbearable. She feared and she hated Hazen. “I aim to pay it when the hens begin to lay.”, “You aim to pay! 1 decade ago. He would not have done it for you. “I wanted to ask after my boy.” His eyes expanded, he rubbed his hands a little, cackling. Automobiles had beaten a rough road along the course the steamers took in summer. Damn the cold!”. Halfway up the hill to my house I stopped to look back and all round. The steps climbed nearer; they stopped in the dim little hall outside the door and someone fumbled with the knob. When I went out into the snow it seemed to me the groan of the gale was like the slow grind of millstones, one upon the other. He was ahead of me at the door; I went in upon his heels. “The wire is down.”, “You wanted to telephone home that you — ”, “I can’t get home tonight. Arthur Conan Doyle alluded to the proverb in his very first Sherlock Holmes adventure, A Study in Scarlet. “Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small…” (Friedrich Von Logau) (Picture credit: Reuters) Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir is under house arrest in the wake of Thursday morning’s military coup which has forced him to step down after 30 years in power marked by a brutal and dictatorial leadership, according to reports. Another way to prevent getting this page in the future is to use Privacy Pass. “It would have been in time, even then,” she said. I said little. He was shrunken now and very white and very still. Thank you for keeping this up. You’ll have to go to the hotel.”, I looked round. “Damn the snow!” he said. There was an ugly welt across her knees and some blood had flowed. Many of his stories take place in the fictional town of Fraternity, Maine. Only his face twitched. I looked at the sky and so did Hazen Kinch. There was about the man the fascination which clothes a tightrope walker above Niagara; an æronaut in the midst of the nose dive. I slid the door shut behind me. Her hoofs beat a swift tattoo; our runners sang beneath us. At a quarter of 3 I took myself to Hazen Kinch’s office. “I’ll not have it snowing,” he said, and looked at me and cackled. I stopped him in the road and I asked for the medicine. They were the dregs of society. The countryside said he had taken her in payment of a bad debt. “I’ll not have it snowing,” he said, and leered at me. There was no bed, no cot, nothing but the two stiff chairs. Do Some Magic! I did not know what I expected but I felt the imminence of the fates. It was bitterly cold; it had been a cold winter. I felt myself breathe deeply, almost with relief. The birches, almost indistinguishable, were like trees in camouflage. Chosen as one of the best stories of 1919 I remember that it was becoming bitter cold and the sun was no longer shining. Prov. Of this, with great labour, and almost spoiling my axe, I cut a piece, and brought it home, too, with difficulty enough, for it was exceeding heavy. I was about to speak, but Hazen without an instant’s hesitation had dropped his hand on the thing and drawn it unostentatiously toward him. They say the road’s impassable.”. “The boy?” she said to Hazen. The pine wood upon the eastern slope of Rayborn Hill was a checkerboard of rich color. I had some knowledge of storms. I shut my eyes and huddled low in the robes for protection against the bitter wind, and I did not open them again till we turned into Hazen’s barnyard, plowing through the unpacked snow. "They Grind Exceedingly Small" was used as the title of a short story by Ben Ames Williams publishing in the Saturday Evening Post in 1919. “He came home in the snow last night. In “They Grind Exceeding Small,” a miserly lender goes about his cynical existence until he meets a shocking, ironic fate. When he understood he told me. They Grind Exceeding Small.Ben Ames Williams.AudiobookReader: David WalesSource: https://librivox.org Free Essays on Summary Of They Grind Exceedingly Small. Though the Mills of God Grind Slowly, Yet They Grind Exceeding Small Yesterday, 10.1%; today, 10.2%. I left him a little later and went out into the street. Though the mills of God grind slowly; Yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, With exactness grinds He all. • I aim to pay.”, “Rats! 1870… Hazen said: “What’s your business? “But after a while, after that baby died.”. “He loses a dollar; I find one. published on september 13, 1919 i telephoned down the hill to hazen kinch. Absolutely. They inspected the floor; they inspected me; they inspected Hazen Kinch’s table, and they rose at last humbly to Hazen Kinch. He was mean, tight, cruel, and hateful. If you are at an office or shared network, you can ask the network administrator to run a scan across the network looking for misconfigured or infected devices. Yet Hazen Kinch did live; he had grown — in his small way — great; and by our lights he had prospered. aadler [ Endnotes posted 10 Jun 2019 ] Since this is a remix, what prompted the direction this story took in differing from the original? 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