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. Adventure of a Kite by Harriet Myrtle (most recommended books txt) 📖
- Author: Harriet Myrtle
Book online «Adventure of a Kite by Harriet Myrtle (most recommended books txt) 📖». Author Harriet Myrtle
Mary and Willie could not sit still any longer, they both jumped up, and began to clap their hands and dance for joy.
"Did she come to the house to bring away her baby?" asked Mary.
Yes; she walked about two miles off, to a part of the river where there was a stone bridge; it was impossible to get across[49] nearer, so she came in about an hour.
"But did she see that puss was there?" said Willie.
O, yes; I forgot to tell you that after she had a little recovered of the first joy of seeing her child safe, nurse held up Helen with puss in her arms, and Robert climbed up on the stump of a tree, and held up the cradle as high as he could.
"And then what did they do when the mother came?" said Mary.
She kissed her baby, and cried over it, and held it a long time in her arms; and her husband, who[50] came also, told them that the flood had risen so suddenly that it had carried away part of the wall of their cottage, and swept away everything they had, while he and his wife were trying to save their stack of wood; and that when they turned round, at the sound of the rushing water, they found that the cradle was gone; and then they forgot every thing else, and ran with several of their neighbors by the side of the river; but never hoped to find their child alive.
"But it was alive, and safe, and well," said Mary, "with these kind little girls and little Robert."[51]
And when their uncle and aunt came home they were very kind to the father and mother. They had their cottage built up again and furnished, and gave them help in putting their garden in order, and there always continued to be kind feeling between them. As to the baby, it grew up to be a fine strong boy, and its parents named it Robert, in memory of the little boy who had helped to save it from the water.
[52]
The Little Milk-maid.
here was once a little Milk-maid, who lived at a farm-house. Her name was Sally. On the summer mornings she used to be up and dressed at five o'clock. Then she took her bright milk-pail on her head, and her three-legged stool in her hand, and called her little dog Trusty, and tripped[53] over the dewy grass to the stile that led to the field where the cows fed. The wild thyme gave out a sweet scent as she walked along; and the green leaves glistened in the sun, for the dew was still on them; and the lark flew up high, and his song came pouring down over her head. When she got to the stile, she saw all the four cows quite at the other side of the field. One was called Dapple, one Brindle, one Frisky, and one Maggie. They saw her get over the stile, but never stirred a step towards her. Dapple looked up for a moment, and then began eating again;[54] Brindle did not seem to mind her; Maggie was lying down, and did not move; and Frisky lashed her tail and shook her head, and went on eating.
"O, this will never do!" said Sally. "Trusty, Trusty! go and bring me Dapple."
Dapple was brown all over, except a white face and tail. Trusty ran behind Dapple, and barked two or three times, just to tell her to move on. And she began to walk slowly and gravely towards Sally. Then Sally put down her little three-legged stool, and sat down by Dapple and milked her. When she had done,[55] she gave her a pat, and said, "Now you may go." Then Dapple began to eat again.
"Now, Trusty," said Sally, "go and bring me Brindle." Brindle was all white. Trusty ran up to her, and she began to walk on; but when she had got to the middle of the field, she stopped to eat, and Trusty was obliged to bark pretty sharply, and tell her it was shameful of her. Then she went on and was milked.
Sally next sent Trusty to bring Frisky. She was brown and white, prettily spotted; but she was sometimes quite naughty[56] when she was milked, and this time she seemed to mean to be so; for, as soon as Trusty got up to her, she set off and galloped up to Sally. Then, just as Sally began to milk her, she walked on, and left her and her stool behind, and very nearly knocked the pail over besides. So Sally had to get up, and move stool and pail onwards, and then she said, "Stand still, Frisky," and stroked and patted her. So she stood still, and was very good.
"Now, Trusty, bring pretty Maggie," said Sally. Maggie was black and white, and very gentle and pretty. She came[57] directly, and stood quite still, and was milked. Then they were all done.
Sally now lifted the pail, which was quite full, on her head, and carried it so firmly and steadily, that she had not to put her hand up to it, not even when she got over the stile, and in this way she walked along back to the farm.
Then she went into the cool, fresh dairy, and Trusty lay down at the door. The dairy had a stone shelf all round it, with shallow round pans ranged along it, all filled with sweet, rich milk, covered with thick, yellow cream.[58] Here she took down her pail; and first she filled a large jug with the new milk for breakfast. She then poured all the rest into two or three pans, like the others on the shelf. Next, she took a flat wooden spoon, and skimmed the cream off several of the others, and poured it all into a square wooden machine, called a churn. It had a handle which turned round. She threw in some salt, and then began to turn the handle round and round, and it turned a wheel inside, and the wheel beat and splashed the cream round and round in the churn. Presently she looked in,[59] and said, "It's not come yet." Then she turned the handle round again for some time. At last, when she looked in, there was a large lump of fine fresh butter, and all about it a thin white liquid, called butter-milk, and all the cream was gone. She took out the butter, and put it into a bowl of cold spring water, and made it up into three large rolls with two flat wooden knives. Next she cut off three or four slices, made them up into nice little rounds, and pressed them with a wooden stamp, with a rose-bud and leaves cut out upon it, and[60] when she took it off, there were the rose-bud and leaves marked on the butter.
Then Sally poured all the butter-milk, and all the milk from which she had skimmed the cream, into a clean wooden pail, and stirred in some barley meal, and carried it off to the pig-sty. She stood outside the paling of the pigs' little yard, and called, "Pig—pig—pig!" and out came the pigs from their sty, little and big, grunting and squeaking and scrambling, and tumbling over one another. Then she poured all her pailful into the pigs' trough, and then they began[61] squeaking and grunting and scrambling more than ever, and put their long noses in, some of them up to their eyes, and some got their feet in, and all of them gobbled it up as fast as they possibly could.
After Sally had fed the pigs, she took out some corn, and went to the poultry yard, and called, "Chuck—chuck—chuck!" and then the cocks and hens, and ducks and geese, came running round her, crowing and clucking, and quacking, and cackling, and the pigeons flew down and helped to eat, and all of them pecked up the corn, as fast as they[62] could. In the afternoon they had boiled potatoes and sopped bread and vegetables, and curd, too, if Sally had been making whey.
When Sally had done all this, she went back into her room, and opened the bed curtains; and there was lying a little rosy-cheeked girl with light curly hair. And when Sally looked at her, she opened two large blue eyes, and held out her arms, and Sally kissed her, and said, "Are you ready to get up, little Annie?" And she said, "Yes." This was Sally's little sister, that her kind mistress[63] let her have with her to love and take care of.
Then Sally took up little Annie, and got a large brown pan for her bath, and stood her in it, and brought a jug of fresh cold water to pour over her.
Little Annie stood very still, but when the water was coming, she held up her hands and said, "Will it be cold?"
"O, no!" said Sally; "it's a beautiful warm morning." Then she washed and dressed little Annie, and afterwards they had their breakfast together in a nice comfortable kitchen. Sally had a good appetite after having been[64] so busy, and little Annie had a large basin of boiled bread and milk, and she always gave some to Trusty. This was the end of the little Milk-maid's morning work.
Comments (0)