Белая птичка
David and I Set Forth Upon a Journey
Iamalwaysintwomindsthen,tolingerthatwemayhavemoreofit,andtosnatchhimawaybeforehevolunteerstheinformation,“Heisnotreallymyfather.”
WhenDavidmeetsAchillesIknowwhatwillhappen.Thelittleboywilltaketheherobythehand,callhimfather,anddraghimawaytosomeRoundPond.
Oneday,whenDavidwasaboutfive,Isenthimthefollowingletter:“DearDavid:Ifyoureallywanttoknowhowitbegan,willyoucomeandhaveachopwithmeto-dayattheclub?”
Mary,who,Ihavefoundout,opensallhisletters,gaveherconsent,and,Idoubtnot,instructedhimtopayheedtowhathappenedsothathemightrepeatittoher,fordespitehercuriositysheknowsnothowitbeganherself.Ichuckled,guessingthatsheexpectedsomethingromantic.
Hecametomearrayedasforamightyjourney,andlookingunusuallysolemn,aslittleboysalwaysdolookwhentheyarewearingagreatcoat.Therewasashawlroundhisneck.“Youcantakesomeofthemoff,”Isaid,“whenwecometosummer.”
“Shallwecometosummer?”heasked,properlyawed.
“Tomanysummers,”Ireplied,“forwearegoingawayback,David,toseeyourmotherasshewasinthedaysbeforetherewasyou.”
Wehailedahansom.“Drivebacksixyears,”Isaidtothecabby,“andstopattheJuniorOldFogies’Club.”
Hewasastupidfellow,andIhadtoguidehimwithmyumbrella.
Thestreetswerenotquiteastheyhadbeeninthemorning.Forinstance,thebookshopatthecornerwasnowsellingfish.IdroppedDavidahintofwhatwasgoingon
