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
I cannot tell whether I were more pleased or mortified to observe, in
those solitary walks, that the smaller birds did not appear to be at
all afraid of me, but would hop about within a yard's distance,
looking for worms and other food, with as much indifference and
security as if no creature at all were near them. I remember a thrush
had the confidence to snatch out of my hand, with his bill, a piece of
cake that Glumdalclitch had just given me for my breakfast. When I
attempted to catch any of these birds, they would boldly turn against
me, endeavoring to pick my fingers, which I durst not venture within
their reach; and then they would hop back unconcerned, to hunt for
worms or snails, as they did before. But one day I took a thick
cudgel, and threw it with all my strength so luckily at a linnet that
I knocked him down, and seizing him by the neck with both my hands,
ran with him in triumph to my nurse. However, the bird, who had only
been stunned, recovering himself, gave me so many boxes with his
wings, on both sides of my head and body, though I held him at arm's
length, and was out of the reach of his claws, that I was twenty times
thinking to let him go. But I was soon relieved by one of our
servants, who wrung off the bird's neck, and I had him next day for
dinner, by the queen's command. This linnet, as near as I can
remember, seemed to be somewhat larger than an England swan.
One day, a young gentleman, who was nephew to my nurse's governess,
came and pressed them both to see an execution. It was of a man who
had murdered one of that gentleman's intimate acquaintance.
Glumdalclitch was prevailed on to be of the company, very much against
her inclination, for she was naturally tender-hearted; and as for
myself, although I abhorred such kind of spectacles, yet my curiosity
tempted me to see something that I thought must be extraordinary. The
malefactor was fixed in a chair upon a scaffold erected for that
purpose, and his head cut off at one blow with a sword of about forty
feet long. The veins and arteries spouted up such a prodigious
quantity of blood, and so high in the air, that the great _jet d'eau_
at Versailles was not equal for the time it lasted; and the head, when
it fell on the scaffold floor, gave such a bounce as made me start,
although I were at least half an English mile distant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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