Мхи старой усадьбы
Feathertop: A Moralized Legend
"Wellpuffed,myprettylad!"stillcriedoldMotherRigby."Come,anothergoodstoutwhiff,andletitbewithmightandmain.Puffforthylife,Itellthee!Puffoutoftheverybottomofthyheart,ifanyheartthouhast,oranybottomtoit!Welldone,again!Thoudidstsuckinthatmouthfulasifforthepureloveofit."
Andthenthewitchbeckonedtothescarecrow,throwingsomuchmagneticpotencyintohergesturethatitseemedasifitmustinevitablybeobeyed,likethemysticcalloftheloadstonewhenitsummonstheiron.
"Whylurkestthouinthecorner,lazyone?"saidshe."Stepforth!Thouhasttheworldbeforethee!"
Uponmyword,ifthelegendwerenotonewhichIheardonmygrandmother’sknee,andwhichhadestablisheditsplaceamongthingscrediblebeforemychildishjudgmentcouldanalyzeitsprobability,IquestionwhetherIshouldhavethefacetotellitnow.
InobediencetoMotherRigby’sword,andextendingitsarmasiftoreachheroutstretchedhand,thefiguremadeastepforward—akindofhitchandjerk,however,ratherthanastep—thentotteredandalmostlostitsbalance.Whatcouldthewitchexpect?Itwasnothing,afterall,butascarecrowstuckupontwosticks.Butthestrong-willedoldbeldamscowled,andbeckoned,andflungtheenergyofherpurposesoforciblyatthispoorcombinationofrottenwood,andmustystraw,andraggedgarments,thatitwascompelledtoshowitselfaman,inspiteoftherealityofthings.Soitsteppedintothebarofsunshine.
