Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
It was a pleasant enough place that Mr. Herder called home. A
large, airy, light, high-ceiled apartment, where plainly even
to a stranger's eye, the naturalist had grouped and bestowed
around him all the things he best liked to live among.
Enormous glass cases, filled with the illustrations of
science, and not less of the philosopher's investigating
patience, lined all the room; except where dark-filled shelves
of books ran up between them from the floor to the ceiling. A
pleasant cloth-covered table, with books and philosophical
instruments, stood towards one side of the room, a little
table with a lamp at the other; and scattered about, all over,
were big stout comfortable well-worn leather arm-chairs, that
said study and learning sat easy there and often received
visits of pleasure in that room. Elizabeth felt herself as
little akin to pleasure as to learning or study, just then.
She put herself in one of the great leather chairs, with a
sense of being out of her element -- a little piece of busy,
bustling, practical life, within the very palings of science
and wisdom.
She sat and waited. But that pulse of busy life beat never the
cooler for all the cool aspect of the place and the grave
shade of wisdom that lingered there; nay, it throbbed faster
and more flutteringly. She got up to try the power of
distraction the glass cases might hold; but her eye roved
restlessly and carelessly over object and object of interest
that withheld its interest from her; and weariedly she went
back to her arm-chair and covered her face with her hands,
that her mind might be at least uninterruptedly busy in its
own way.
It must have been very busy, or the quick little step of the
German professor must have been very soft withal; for he had
come within a few feet of her before he knew who she was or
she knew that he was there.
"Miss Elisabet'!" he exclaimed with a most good-humoured face
of wonderment, -- "I never was so honoured before! How did you
get in my arm-chair?"
Elizabeth jumped up and shook hands with him, laughing in very
relief to see him come.
"How did I get here? -- I came up through the sun, Mr. Herder."
"I have asked you to come in better time," said the
naturalist, -- "that is, better for you -- dis is very good time
for me. I have nozing to do, and I will give you lesson in
whatever you want."
"No sir, -- I am come to give _you_ a lesson, Mr. Herder."
"_Me?_ Well, I will take it," said the naturalist, who began at
the same time to run about his room and open closet doors and
jingle glasses together, apparently on his own business, -- "I
like always to take lessons, -- it is not often that I have
such a teacher. I will learn the best I can -- after I have got
you some lemonade. I have two lemons here, -- somevere, -- ah! -- "
"I don't want it, Mr. Herder."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account