I was obliged to tell her that I
could not stoop.
'Ah! but I can, and I will pluck them and give them to you. I should
like to do it. Do let me, there's a good boy.'
I consented, and hobbled by her side to the verge of the
strawberry-beds. But when I foolishly tried to follow her, I stuck
ignominiously, with my crutches sunk deep in the soft mould of rotten
leaves. Here was a trial for the conquering hero of the coast. I
looked into her face to see if there was not, at last, a laugh upon
it. That cruel human laugh was my only dread. To everything but
ridicule I had hardened myself; but against that I felt helpless.
I looked into her face to see if she was laughing at my lameness. No:
her brows were merely knit with anxiety as to how she might best
relieve me. This surpassingly beautiful child, then, had evidently
accepted me--lameness and all--crutches and all--as a subject of
peculiar interest.
How I loved her as I put my hand upon her firm little shoulders,
while I extricated first one crutch and then another, and at last got
upon the hard path again!
When she had landed me safely, she returned to the strawberry-bed,
and began busily gathering the fruit, which she brought to me in her
sunburnt hands, stained to a bright pink by the ripe fruit.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68