Червона літера
A Flood of Sunshine
Itofferedherthepartridge-berries,thegrowthoftheprecedingautumn,butripeningonlyinthespring,andnowredasdropsofblooduponthewitheredleaves.ThesePearlgathered,andwaspleasedwiththeirwildflavour.Thesmalldenizensofthewildernesshardlytookpainstomoveoutofherpath.Apartridge,indeed,withabroodoftenbehindher,ranforwardthreateningly,butsoonrepentedofherfierceness,andcluckedtoheryoungonesnottobeafraid.Apigeon,aloneonalowbranch,allowedPearltocomebeneath,andutteredasoundasmuchofgreetingasalarm.Asquirrel,fromtheloftydepthsofhisdomestictree,chatteredeitherinangerormerriment—forthesquirrelissuchacholericandhumorouslittlepersonage,thatitishardtodistinguishbetweenhismoods—sohechatteredatthechild,andflungdownanutuponherhead.Itwasalastyear’snut,andalreadygnawedbyhissharptooth.Afox,startledfromhissleepbyherlightfootstepontheleaves,lookedinquisitivelyatPearl,asdoubtingwhetheritwerebettertostealoff,orrenewhisnaponthesamespot.Awolf,itissaid—butherethetalehassurelylapsedintotheimprobable—cameupandsmeltofPearl’srobe,andofferedhissavageheadtobepattedbyherhand.Thetruthseemstobe,however,thatthemother-forest,andthesewildthingswhichitnourished,allrecognisedakindredwildernessinthehumanchild.
Andshewasgentlerherethaninthegrassy-marginedstreetsofthesettlement,orinhermother’scottage
