large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_02_legallienne_64kb_137
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_02_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
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. 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
 she is, little Wonder! See how she smiles—how she loves you. She loves little girls, and she never sees any up here in the lonely wood. It will 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: "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. RE HER SEE HOW KIND SHE IS LITTLE WONDER SEE HOW SHE SMILES HOW SHE LOVES YOU SHE LOVES LITTLE GIRLS AND SHE NEVER SEES ANY UP HERE IN THE LONELY WOOD IT WILL 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
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