Лавка древностей

Chapter 15

           

           Thefreshnessoftheday,thesingingofthebirds,thebeautyofthewavinggrass,thedeepgreenleaves,thewildflowers,andthethousandexquisitescentsandsoundsthatfloatedintheair—deepjoystomostofus,butmostofalltothosewhoselifeisinacrowdorwholivesolitarilyingreatcitiesasinthebucketofahumanwell—sunkintotheirbreastsandmadethemveryglad.Thechildhadrepeatedherartlessprayersoncethatmorning,moreearnestlyperhapsthanshehadeverdoneinallherlife,butasshefeltallthis,theyrosetoherlipsagain.Theoldmantookoffhishat—hehadnomemoryforthewords—buthesaidamen,andthattheywereverygood.

           TherehadbeenanoldcopyofthePilgrim’sProgress,withstrangeplates,uponashelfathome,overwhichshehadoftenporedwholeevenings,wonderingwhetheritwastrueineveryword,andwherethosedistantcountrieswiththecuriousnamesmightbe.Asshelookedbackupontheplacetheyhadleft,onepartofitcamestronglyonhermind.

           ‘Deargrandfather,’shesaid,‘onlythatthisplaceisprettierandagreatdealbetterthantherealone,ifthatinthebookislikeit,IfeelasifwewerebothChristian,andlaiddownonthisgrassallthecaresandtroubleswebroughtwithus;nevertotakethemupagain.’

           ‘No—nevertoreturn—nevertoreturn’—repliedtheoldman,wavinghishandtowardsthecity.‘ThouandIarefreeofitnow,Nell.Theyshallneverlureusback.

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