Explore "The Seats of the Mighty, Volume 2" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At last I was roused by Gabord's voice.
He sat down, and drew the leaves of faded corn between his fingers. "Tis a poor life, this in a cage, after all -- eh, dickey-bird? If a soldier can't stand in the field fighting, if a man can't rub shoulders with man, and pitch a tent of his own somewhere, why not go travelling with the Beast -- aho? To have all the life sucked out like these -- eh? To see the flesh melt and the hair go white, the eye to be one hour bright like a fire in a kiln, and the next like mother on working vinegar -- that's not living at all -- no."