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Lilith | George MacDonald | |
The Lovers And The Bags |
Page 3 of 4 |
Whither they were carrying me, I did not try to conjecture; I yielded myself to their pleasure, almost as happy as they. Chattering and laughing and playing glad tricks innumerable at first, the moment they saw I was going to sleep, they became still as judges. I woke: a sudden musical uproar greeted the opening of my eyes. We were travelling through the forest in which they found the babies, and which, as I had suspected, stretched all the way from the valley to the hot stream. A tiny girl sat with her little feet close to my face, and looked down at me coaxingly for a while, then spoke, the rest seeming to hang on her words. "We make a petisson to king," she said. "What is it, my darling?" I asked. "Sut eyes one minute," she answered. "Certainly I will! Here goes!" I replied, and shut my eyes close. "No, no! not fore I tell oo!" she cried. I opened them again, and we talked and laughed together for quite another hour. "Close eyes!" she said suddenly. I closed my eyes, and kept them close. The elephants stood still. I heard a soft scurry, a little rustle, and then a silence--for in that world SOME silences ARE heard. "Open eyes!" twenty voices a little way off shouted at once; but when I obeyed, not a creature was visible except the elephants that bore me. I knew the children marvellously quick in getting out of the way--the giants had taught them that; but when I raised myself, and looking about in the open shrubless forest, could descry neither hand nor heel, I stared in "blank astonishment." |
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Lilith George MacDonald |
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