Дні мрій
Mutabile Semper
Wetookahurriedfarewellofeachother,andbeforewepartedIgotfromheranadmissionthatshemightbegardeningagainthatafternoon,ifonlythewormswouldbelessaggressiveandgiveherachance.
“Remember,”IsaidasIturnedtogo,“youmustn’ttellanybodyaboutwhatI’vebeentellingyou!”
Sheappearedtohesitate,swingingonelegtoandfrowhilesheregardedmesidewayswithhalf-shuteyes.
“It’sadeadsecret,”Isaidartfully.“Asecretbetweenustwo,andnobodyknowsitexceptourselves!”
Thenshepromised,noddingviolently,big-eyed,hermouthpursedupsmall.Thedelightofrevelation,andtheblissofpossessingasecret,runeachotherveryclose.Butthelattergenerallywins—foratime.
Ihadpassedthemuttonstageandwaswelteringinwarmricepudding,beforeIfoundleisuretopauseandtakeinthingsgenerally;andthenaglanceinthedirectionofthewindowtoldme,tomydismay,thatitwasraininghard.Thiswasannoyingineveryway,for,evenifitcleareduplater,theworms—Iknewwellfromexperience—wouldbeoffensivelynumerousandfrisky.SulkilyIsaidgraceandaccompaniedtheothersupstairstotheschoolroom;whereIgotoutmypaint-boxandresolvedtodevotemyselfseriouslytoArt,whichoflateIhadmuchneglected.Haroldgotholdofasheetofpaperandapencil,retiredtoatableinthecorner,squaredhiselbows,andprotrudedhistongue.LiteraturehadalwaysbeenHISformofartisticexpression.
