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 had always a strong impulse that I should sometime recover my
liberty, though it was impossible to conjecture by what means, or to
form any project with the least hope of succeeding. The ship in which
I sailed was the first ever known to be driven within sight of that
coast, and the king had given strict orders that if at any time
another appeared, it should be taken ashore, and with all its crew and
passengers brought in a tumbril to Lorbrulgrud. I was indeed treated
with much kindness; I was the favorite of a great king and queen, and
the delight of the whole court; but it was upon such a foot as ill
became the dignity of humankind. I could never forget those domestic
pledges I had left behind me. I wanted to be among people with whom I
could converse upon even terms, and walk about the streets and fields
without being afraid of being trod to death like a frog or a young
puppy. But my deliverance came sooner than I expected, and in a manner
not very common; the whole story and circumstances of which I shall
faithfully relate.
I had now been two years in this country, and about the beginning of
the third, Glumdalclitch and I attended the king and queen in a
progress to the south coast of the kingdom. I was carried as usual in
my traveling box, which, as I have already described, was a very
convenient closet of twelve feet wide. And I had ordered a hammock to
be fixed by silken ropes from the four corners at the top, to break
the jolts when a servant carried me before him on horseback, as I
sometimes desired; and would often sleep in my hammock, while we were
upon the road. On the roof of my closet, not directly over the middle
of the hammock, I ordered the joiner to cut out a hole of a foot
square, to give me air in hot weather as I slept; which hole I shut at
pleasure, with a board that drew backwards and forwards through a
groove.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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