. . .
Then there were shouts that the police were charging. A number of
mounted men trotted into the square. The crowd began a series of
short rushes that opened lanes for the passage of the mounted police
as they rode to and fro. These men trotted through the crowd,
scattering knots of people. They carried pick-handles, but they did
not seem to be hitting with them. It became clear that they aimed
at the capture of the trolley. There was only a feeble struggle for
the trolley; it was captured and hauled through the scattered
spectators in the square to the protection of a small impassive body
of regular cavalry at the opposite corner. Then quite a number of
people seemed to be getting excited and fighting. They appeared to
be vaguely fighting the foot-police, and the police seemed to be
vaguely pushing through them and dispersing them. The roof of a
little one-story shop became prominent as a centre of vigorous
stone-throwing.
It was no sort of battle. Merely the normal inconsecutiveness of
human affairs had become exaggerated and pugnacious.
Pages:
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565