The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old FavoritesTappan, Eva March
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The Children's Hour, v 5. Stories From Seven Old Favorites
Tappan, Eva March
Children's stories; Literature -- Adaptations
recorded forever in the chronicles of that empire, while posterity
shall hardly believe them, although attested by millions. I reflected
what a mortification it must prove to me to appear as inconsiderable
in this nation as one single Lilliputian would be among us. But this,
I conceived, was to be the least of my misfortunes; for, as human
creatures are observed to be more savage and cruel in proportion to
their bulk, what could I expect but to be a morsel in the mouth of the
first among these enormous barbarians that should happen to seize me?
Undoubtedly philosophers are in the right when they tell us that
nothing is great or little otherwise than by comparison. It might have
pleased fortune to let the Lilliputians find some nation where the
people were as diminutive with respect to them as they were to me. And
who knows but that even this prodigious race of mortals might be
equally overmatched in some distant part of the world, whereof we have
yet no discovery?
Scared and confounded as I was, I could not forbear going on with
these reflections, when one of the reapers, approaching within ten
yards of the ridge where I lay, made me apprehend that with the next
step I should be squashed to death under his foot, or cut in two with
his reaping hook. And, therefore, when he was again about to move, I
screamed as loud as fear could make me; whereupon the huge creature
trod short, and looking round about under him for some time, at last
espied me as I lay on the ground. He considered awhile, with the
caution of one who endeavors to lay hold on a small dangerous animal
in such a manner that it may not be able either to scratch or to bite
him, as I myself have sometimes done with a weasel in England. At
length he ventured to take me up behind, by the middle, between his
forefinger and thumb, and brought me within three yards of his eyes,
that he might behold my shape more perfectly. I guessed his meaning,
and my good fortune gave me so much presence of mind that I resolved
not to struggle in the least as he held me in the air about sixty feet
from the ground, although he grievously pinched my sides, for fear I
should slip through his fingers. All I ventured was to raise mine eyes
toward the sun, and place my hands together in a supplicating posture,
and to speak some words in an humble, melancholy tone, suitable to the
condition I then was in; for I apprehended every moment that he would
dash me against the ground, as we usually do any little hateful animal
which we have in mind to destroy. But my good star would have it that
he appeared pleased with my voice and gestures, and began to look upon
me as a curiosity, much wondering to hear me pronounce articulate
words, although he could not understand them. In the meantime I was
not able to forbear groaning and shedding tears, and turning my head
towards my sides; letting him know, as well as I could, how cruelly I
was hurt by the pressure of his thumb and finger. He seemed to
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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