[The Seeker by Harry Leon Wilson]@TWC D-Link bookThe Seeker CHAPTER V 11/19
Weeping after them went Nancy--as far as the first fence, between two boards of which she put her head and sobbed with a heavenly bitterness; for to the little boy, pushing sternly on, her tears afforded that certain thrill of gratified brutality under conscious rectitude, the capacity for which is among those matters by which Heaven has set the male of our species apart from the female.
The sensation would have been flawless but for Allan's lack of dignity: from the top board of the fence he held aloft in either hand a golden orange, and he chanted in endless inanity: Chink, Chink Chiraddam! Don't you wisht you had 'em? Chink, Chink Chiraddam! Don't you wisht you had 'em? Still he was actually and triumphantly off. And here should be recalled the saying of a certain wise, simple man: "If our failures are made tragic by courage they are not different from successes." For it came about that the subsequent dignity of this revolt was to be wholly in its courage. The way led over a stretch of grassy prairie to a fence.
This surmounted, there came a ploughed field, of considerable extent to one carrying an inconvenient box.
At the farther end of this was another fence, and beyond this an ancient orchard with a grassy floor, where lingered a few old apple-trees, under which the recumbent cows, chewing and placid, dozed like stout old ladies over their knitting. Nearest the fence was an aged, gnarled and riven tree, foolishly decked in blossoms, like some faded, wrinkled dame, fatuously reluctant to leave off girlish finery.
Under its frivolous branches on the grassy sward would be the place for his first night's halt--for the magic wood just this side of the sun was now seen to be farther off than he had once supposed.
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