large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb_161
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
There was that in her face, as she clung on to her mother's hand, which seemed to say: "O mother, I understand it all, and far more; if I might only talk to you in the language of heaven,—but my words are like my little legs, frail and uncertain of their footing, and, while I think all your strange grown up thoughts, I can only talk of toys and dolls. Mother, father's blood as well as yours is in my veins, and so I understand you both. Poor little mother! THERE WAS THAT IN HER FACE AS SHE CLUNG ON TO HER MOTHER'S HAND WHICH SEEMED TO SAY O MOTHER I UNDERSTAND ALL OF IT AND FAR MORE IF I MIGHT ONLY TALK TO YOU IN THE LANGUAGE OF HEAVEN BUT MY WORDS ARE LIKE MY LITTLE LEGS FRAIL AND UNCERTAIN OF THEIR FOOTING AND WHILE I THINK ALL YOUR STRANGE GROWN UP THOUGHTS I CAN ONLY TALK OF TOYS AND DOLLS MOTHER FATHER'S BLOOD AS WELL AS YOURS IS IN MY VEINS AND SO I UNDERSTAND YOU BOTH POOR LITTLE MOTHER
lived only the life of beauty and silence. Where iron had once been was now the wild rose, and the grim wounds of the earth had been healed by the kisses of five hundred springs. About these ponds stole many a secret path, veined with clumsy roots, shadowed with the thick bush of many a clustering parasite, and echoing sometimes beneath from the hollowed shelter of coot or water-rat. Lilies floated in circles about the ponds, like the crowns of sunken queens, and sometimes a bird broke the silence with a frightened cry. It was here that Beatrice and Wonder would often take their morning walk,—Wonder, though but a little girl of four, having grown more and more of a companion to her mother, since Antony's love for Silencieux. A morning in August the two were walking hand in hand. Wonder was one of those little girls that seem to know all the meanings of life, while yet struggling with the alphabet of its unimportant words. The soul of such a child is, of all things, the most mysterious. D FROM THEIR LABOURS AND LIVED ONLY THE LIFE OF BEAUTY AND SILENCE WHERE IRON HAD ONCE BEEN WAS NOW THE WILD ROSE AND THE GRIM WOUNDS OF THE EARTH HAD BEEN HEALED BY THE KISSES OF FIVE HUNDRED SPRINGS ABOUT THESE PONDS STOLE MANY A SECRET PATH VEINED WITH CLUMSY ROOTS SHADOWED WITH THE THICK BUSH OF MANY A CLUSTERING PARASITE AND ECHOING SOMETIMES BENEATH FROM THE HOLLOWED SHELTER OF COOCH OR WATER RAT LILIES FLOATED IN CIRCLES ABOUT THE PONDS LIKE CROWNS OF SUNKEN QUEENS AND SOMETIMES A BIRD BROKE THE SILENCE WITH A FRIGHTENED CRY IT WAS HERE THAT BEATRICE AND WONDER WOULD OFTEN TAKE THEIR MORNING WALK WONDER THOUGH BUT A LITTLE GIRL OF FOUR HAVING GROWN MORE AND MORE OF A COMPANION TO HER MOTHER SINCE ANTONY'S LOVE FOR SULAJIO A MORNING IN AUGUST THE TWO WERE WALKING HAND IN HAND WONDER WAS ONE OF THOSE LITTLE GIRLS THAT SEEMED TO KNOW ALL THE MEANINGS OF LIFE WHILE YET STRUGGLING WITH THE ALPHABET OF ITS UNIMPORTANT WORDS THE SOUL OF SUCH A CHILD IS OF ALL THINGS THE MOST MYSTERIOUS
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb.flac