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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"The Faith of Men"


The dog would lie in the firelight, motionless, for hours, gazing
straight before him at Leclere, and hating him with his bitter
eyes.
Often the man felt that he had bucked against the very essence of
life--the unconquerable essence that swept the hawk down out of the
sky like a feathered thunderbolt, that drove the great grey goose
across the zones, that hurled the spawning salmon through two
thousand miles of boiling Yukon flood. At such times he felt
impelled to--express his own unconquerable essence; and with strong
drink, wild music, and Batard, he indulged in vast orgies, wherein
he pitted his puny strength in the face of things, and challenged
all that was, and had been, and was yet to be.
"Dere is somet'ing dere," he affirmed, when the rhythmed vagaries
of his mind touched the secret chords of Batard's being and brought
forth the long lugubrious howl. "Ah pool eet out wid bot' my
han's, so, an' so. Ha! ha! Eet is fonee! Eet is ver' fonee! De
priest chant, de womans pray, de mans swear, de leetle bird go
peep-peep, Batard, heem go yow-yow--an' eet is all de ver' same
t'ing. Ha! ha!"
Father Gautier, a worthy priest, one reproved him with instances of
concrete perdition. He never reproved him again.


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