Page:Max Havelaar; or, the Coffee Auctions of the Dutch Trading Company (IA dli.granth.77827).pdf/355

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336
Max Havelaar

that he said little to the girls on his road, who asked him where he came from, and where he was going—the common salutation in those regions? Was it a wonder that he no longer thought Serang so beautiful, he who had learnt to know Batavia? That he hid himself no more behind the ‘pagger’ as he did three years ago, when he saw the Resident riding out; for he had seen the much grander lord, who lives at Buitenzorg, and who is the grandfather of the Soosoohoonan (Emperor) of Solo?[1] Was it a wonder that he did not pay much attention to the tales of those who went a part of the way with him, and spoke of the news in Bantam-Kidool; how the coffee culture had been quite suspended after much unrewarded labour; how the district chief of Parang-Koodjang had been condemned to fourteen days’ arrest at the house of his father-in-law for highway robbery; how the capital had been removed to Rankas-Betong; how a new Assistant Resident was there, because the other had died some months ago; how this new functionary had spoken at the first Sebah meeting; how for some time nobody had been punished for complaining; how the people hoped that all that had been stolen would be returned or paid for?

No, he had sublime visions before his mind’s eye. He sought for the ‘Ketapan’ tree in the clouds, as he was still too far off to seek it at Badoer. He caught at the air

  1. A superstition of the Javanese.