Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Hawthorns by Amy Walton (ebook reader browser txt) 📖
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said, "that though we're all glad Andrew's daughter is found, still it was naughty and wilful of Dickie to go out by herself. She knew she was doing wrong, and disobeying mother."
"But if she hadn't," remarked David, "most likely Andrew never would have found his little girl."
"Perhaps not," said Mrs Hawthorn; "but it might not have ended so well. Dickie might have been hurt or lost. Good things sometimes come out of wrong things, but that does not make the wrong things right."
Still the children could not help feeling glad that Dickie had been disobedient--just that once.
And then another wonderful thing to think of, was that Andrew was now really related to the clown, whose appearance and manners they had all admired so much the day before. That delightful, witty person, whose ready answers and pointed pleasantries made everyone else seem dull and stupid! He was now Andrew's son-in-law. It appeared, however, that Andrew was not so grateful for this advantage as he might have been.
"Aren't you glad, Andrew," asked Nancy, "that Molly married the clown?"
"Why, no, missie," he answered, scraping his boot on the side of his spade, "I can't say as I be."
"Why not? He must be _such_ a nice man, and _so_ amusing."
"Well," said Andrew, "it's a matter of opinion, that is; it's not a purfesson as _I_ should choose, making a fool of myself for other fools to laugh at. Not but what he do seem a sober, decent sort of chap, and fond of Molly; so it might a been worse, I'll not deny that."
A sober, decent sort of chap! What a way to refer to a brilliantly gifted person like the clown!
"An' they've promised me one thing," continued he as he shouldered his spade, "an' that is that they'll not bring up the little un to the same trade. She's to come an' live a-longer me when she's five years old, an' have some schoolin' an' be brought up decent. I don't want my gran-darter to go racin' round on 'orses an' suchlike."
"Then you'll have a little girl to live with you, just as you used to," said Pennie.
"And her name will be Mollie too," said Ambrose.
"But you won't take her to the circus again, I should think?" added David.
"Andoo's 'ittle gal had yed boots," said Dickie, and here the conversation finished.
THE END.
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"But if she hadn't," remarked David, "most likely Andrew never would have found his little girl."
"Perhaps not," said Mrs Hawthorn; "but it might not have ended so well. Dickie might have been hurt or lost. Good things sometimes come out of wrong things, but that does not make the wrong things right."
Still the children could not help feeling glad that Dickie had been disobedient--just that once.
And then another wonderful thing to think of, was that Andrew was now really related to the clown, whose appearance and manners they had all admired so much the day before. That delightful, witty person, whose ready answers and pointed pleasantries made everyone else seem dull and stupid! He was now Andrew's son-in-law. It appeared, however, that Andrew was not so grateful for this advantage as he might have been.
"Aren't you glad, Andrew," asked Nancy, "that Molly married the clown?"
"Why, no, missie," he answered, scraping his boot on the side of his spade, "I can't say as I be."
"Why not? He must be _such_ a nice man, and _so_ amusing."
"Well," said Andrew, "it's a matter of opinion, that is; it's not a purfesson as _I_ should choose, making a fool of myself for other fools to laugh at. Not but what he do seem a sober, decent sort of chap, and fond of Molly; so it might a been worse, I'll not deny that."
A sober, decent sort of chap! What a way to refer to a brilliantly gifted person like the clown!
"An' they've promised me one thing," continued he as he shouldered his spade, "an' that is that they'll not bring up the little un to the same trade. She's to come an' live a-longer me when she's five years old, an' have some schoolin' an' be brought up decent. I don't want my gran-darter to go racin' round on 'orses an' suchlike."
"Then you'll have a little girl to live with you, just as you used to," said Pennie.
"And her name will be Mollie too," said Ambrose.
"But you won't take her to the circus again, I should think?" added David.
"Andoo's 'ittle gal had yed boots," said Dickie, and here the conversation finished.
THE END.
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-11-2009
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