LITMIR.BIZ

        Julian.

        I wish she would come home. When the child wakes,

        I cannot bear to see her eyes first rest

        On me, then wander searching through the room,

        And then return and rest. And yet, poor Lilia!

        'Tis nothing strange thou shouldst be glad to go

        From this dull place, and for a few short hours

        Have thy lost girlhood given back to thee;

        For thou art very young for such hard things

        As poor men's wives in cities must endure.

        I am afraid the thought is not at rest,

        But rises still, that she is not my wife—

        Not truly, lawfully. I hoped the child

        Would kill that fancy; but I fear instead,

        She thinks I have begun to think the same—

        Thinks that it lies a heavy weight of sin

        Upon my heart. Alas, my Lilia!

        When every time I pray, I pray that God

        Would look and see that thou and I be one!

        Lily

        (starting up in her crib).

        Oh, take me! take me!

        Julian

        (going up to her with a smile).

        What is the matter with my little child?

        Lily.

        I don't know, father; I was very frightened.

        Julian.

        'Twas nothing but a dream. Look—I am with you.

        Lily.

        I am wake now; I know you're there; but then

        I did not know it.

        Julian.

        Lie down now, darling. Go to sleep again.

        Lily

        (beseechingly).

        Not yet. Don't tell me go to sleep again;

        It makes me so, so frightened! Take me up,

        And let me sit upon your knee.—Where's mother?

        I cannot see her.

        Julian.

                      She's not at home, my child;

        But soon she will be back.

        Lily.

                                     But if she walk

        Out in the dark streets—so dark, it will catch her.

        Julian.

        She will not walk—but what would catch her, sweet?

        Lily.

        I don't know. Tell me a story till she comes.

        Julian

        (taking her, and sitting with her on his knees by the fire).

        Come then, my little Lily, I will tell you

        A story I have read this very night.

        There was a man who had a little boy,

        And when the boy grew big, he went and asked

        His father to give him a purse of money.

        His father gave him such a large purse full!

        And then he went away and left his home.

        You see he did not love his father much.

        Lily.

        Oh! didn't he?—If he had, he wouldn't have gone!

        Julian.

        Away he went, far far away he went,

        Until he could not even spy the top

        Of the great mountain by his father's house.

        And still he went away, away, as if

        He tried how far his feet could go away;

        Until he came to a city huge and wide,

        Like London here.

        Lily.

                          Perhaps it was London.

        Julian.

        Perhaps it was, my child. And there he spent

        All, all his father's money, buying things

        That he had always told him were not worth,

        And not to buy them; but he would and did.

        Lily.

        How very naughty of him!

        Julian.

                                   Yes, my child.

        And so when he had spent his last few pence,

        He

Скачать книгу