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English
8934
All the year round under the green cloud of summer, you might meet Autumn creeping somewhere in the valley, like foul mists that creep from pool to pool; for here all the year was decay to feed upon and dead leaves for her to sleep on. ALL THE YEAR ROUND UNDER THE GREEN CLOUD OF SUMMER YOU MIGHT MEET AUTUMN CREEPING SOMEWHERE IN THE VALLEY LIKE FOUL MISTS THAT CREEP FROM POOL TO POOL FOR HERE ALL THE YEAR WAS DECAY TO FEED UPON AND DEAD LEAVES FOR HER TO SLEEP ON
appy. Kiss her, little Wonder!" Reluctantly the child obeyed, and with a shudder she said:— "Oh, how cold her lips are, Daddy!" "But were they not sweet, little Wonder?" "No, Daddy, they tasted of dust." And as Antony had lifted her up, he had said in his heart: "Silencieux, I bring you my little child." CHAPTER XII AUTUMN IN THE VALLEY Autumn in the valley was autumn, melancholy and sinister, as you find her only in such low-lying immemorial drifting places of leaves, and oozy sinks of dank water. For the moors autumn is the spring come back in purple, and in golden woods and many another place where the year dies happily, she smiles like a widow so young and fair that one thinks rather of life than death in her presence. But in the valley Autumn was a fearsome hag, a little crazy, two-double, gathering sticks in a scarlet cloak. When she turned her wicked old eyes upon you, the life died within you, and wherever you walked she was always somewhere in the bushes muttering evil spells. ILL MAKE HER SO HAPPY KISS HER LITTLE WONDER RELUCTANTLY THE CHILD OBEYED AND WITH A SHUDDER SHE SAID OH HOW COLD HER LIPS ARE DADDY BUT WERE THEY NOT SWEET LITTLE WONDER NO DADDY THEY TASTED OF DUST AND AS ANTONY HAD LIFTED HER UP HE HAD SAID IN HIS HEART SILAJO I BRING YOU MY LITTLE CHILD END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE AUTUMN IN THE VALLEY AUTUMN IN THE VALLEY WAS AUTUMN MELANCHOLY AND SINISTER AS YOU FIND HER ONLY IN SUCH LOW LYING IMMEMORIAL DRIFTING PLACES OF LEAVES AND OOZY SINKS OF DANK WATER FOR THE MOORS IN AUTUMN IS THE SPRING COME BACK IN PURPLE AND IN GOLDEN WOODS AND MANY ANOTHER PLACE WHERE THE YEAR DIES HAPPILY SHE SMILES LIKE A WIDOW SO YOUNG AND FAIR THAT ONE THINKS RATHER OF LIFE THAN DEATH IN HER PRESENCE BUT IN THE VALLEY AUTUMN WAS A FEARSOME HAG A LITTLE CRAZY TOO DOUBLE GATHERING STICKS IN A SCARLET CLOAK WHEN SHE TURNED HER WICKED OLD EYES UPON YOU THE LIFE DIED WITHIN YOU AND WHEREVER YOU WALKED SHE WAS ALWAYS SOMEWHERE IN THE BUSHES MUTTERING EVIL SPELLS
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