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- Джон Бакен
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- Стр. 42/195
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Above
the
well
was
one
of
those
circles
of
green
mounds
which
country
people
call
fairy
-
rings
.
The
girl
seated
herself
in
the
centre
and
began
to
make
posies
of
the
flowers
she
had
picked
.
David
lay
on
the
turf
at
her
feet
,
watching
the
quick
movement
of
her
hands
,
his
garlanded
hat
removed
and
the
temperate
sun
warming
his
body
.
Never
had
he
felt
so
bathed
in
happy
peace
.
The
pixie
seated
above
him
spared
time
from
her
flowers
to
glance
down
at
him
,
and
found
him
regarding
her
with
abstracted
eyes
.
For
he
was
trying
to
fit
this
bright
creature
into
his
scheme
of
things
.
Did
the
world
of
the
two
of
them
touch
nowhere
save
in
this
woodland
?
"
Your
uncle
is
the
chief
heritor
in
Woodilee
parish
,
"
he
said
,
"
but
you
do
not
come
to
the
kirk
.
"
"
I
was
there
no
longer
back
than
last
Sunday
-
-
"
she
said
.
"
Sabbath
,
"
he
corrected
.
"
Sabbath
,
if
you
will
have
it
so
.
Calidon
is
in
Cauldshaw
parish
,
and
it
was
to
Cauldshaw
kirk
we
went
.
Four
weary
miles
of
jogging
on
a
plough
-
horse
,
I
riding
pillion
to
Aunt
Grizel
.
Before
that
the
drifts
were
too
deep
to
take
the
road
.
.
.
.
I
have
heard
many
a
sermon
from
Mr
.
Fordyce
.
"
"
He
is
a
good
man
.
"
"
He
is
a
dull
man
.
Such
a
preachment
on
dismal
texts
.
’
Seventhly
,
my
brethren
,
and
in
parenthesis
-
-
’
"
she
mimicked
.
"
But
he
is
beyond
doubt
good
,
and
Aunt
Grizel
says
she
has
benefited
from
his
words
,
and
would
fain
repay
him
by
healing
his
disorders
.
He
has
many
bodily
disorders
,
the
poor
man
,
and
Aunt
Grizel
loves
sermons
much
,
but
her
simples
more
.
"
"
You
do
not
love
sermons
?
"
