: As the hart panteth by Rives Hallie Erminie - American fiction 19th century

@FreeBooksThu 08 Jun, 2023

Posted in: #FreeBooks #FreeBooksIndia #FreeBooksApp #gg

Vote Up Vote Down

THE CHILD 7 THE GIRL 104 THE WOMAN 185

AS THE HART PANTETH.

THE CHILD.

HE sat just outside the lofty doorway, that opened between the bare hall and front verandah. The great white columns held a wild clematis vine, the leaves of which almost concealed the bricks where the plaster had fallen off. Presently a child came out with a violin in her hand. She went up to him, and laying her full cheek against his shrunken one, caressed him. Her blue eyes that went black in an instant, from the pupils' swift dilation, had the direct gaze of one knowing nothing of the world and never fearing to be misunderstood. She was slim yet strong; her waving hair that fell softly about her face was the color of sunburnt cornsilk, her skin ovalling from it, smooth and white, like a bursting magnolia bud.

"Grandpa, I can play 'The Mocking Bird' for you now."

"Play it, God's child; play it," he said.

As she leaned against the column and began playing, his face, old and worn with many griefs, seemed, for a moment, rejuvenated by the spirit of his lost youth. His heart stirred strangely within him, and he was minded of another slim, little girl, who came down to the gate to meet him when the day was done in the long ago. She had the same glorious hair, and tender, fearless eyes and love for him. But that was more than forty years gone by and she was dead.

As the strains became fuller and sweeter, a bird began twittering, trilling among the leaves, imitating the sounds it heard.

"Listen. Do you hear that, Esther?" whispering, as he searched for a sight of the singer. "There it is. It's a mocking bird," he said, pointing to the young thing, as the fluting feathers on its throat stood out like the pipes of an organ. Its song, accompanying the tune, never ceased until the violin was tossed upon the bench and the child was in the old man's arms.

"That was beautiful, beautiful!" His eyes were filled with tears of enthusiasm that fell upon her hair.

"Your mother used to play that, when she was young." He spoke with the weight of profound emotion, that glowed in his eyes, and quivered on his lips.

"And did the bird sing with her?" a softer look coming upon the childish face.

Free books android app tbrJar TBR JAR Read Free books online gutenberg

Login to post a comment!