William Charles Scully
"The White Hecatomb"
"And other stories"
Chapter One.
The White Hecatomb.
“For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.”—Hosea VIII, 7.
“Ehea, Inkosi am. I know by the smell of it that this snuff is of the same kind as that which my grandson brought from you the other day. Well, I am thankful that before I die I taste in my nose what really is snuff. But to think that I should have had to wait all these years for it;—and now to be unable to see its colour! There, I have kissed your hand, and that is all I can do to show my gratitude.
“That one like you—one who can have as much as he likes of such snuff—should want to come here and talk to an old woman such as I, is wonderful. You cannot be old, to judge by your voice. Is it not perhaps the young women you want to talk to? But give them none of that snuff,—they are impudent children of no experience, and would not value it. Well, if it be myself that you want to talk to, my tongue is alive although my eyes are dead.