Weaker than a Woman — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

oa ie oe 6 ee ee Ya eee , we * ae ee Pt | ee 136 WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. home, for the beauty of an English autumn surpassed any- thing which they could see abroad. Her wish was complied with, as is the wish of a spoiled child often, and she prom- ised herself a few pleasant months. She set out one morning with her sketch-book and pen- cils. The countess suggested that she should take a maid or a footman with her—Lady Maude laughed. | “No danger, lurks in our English woods, mamma,” she said. “If I were in Italy or Greece I might meet a few brigands; here at Bramber there will be nothing worse than the pretty brown hares and the little squirrels. I could not sketch at my ease with a great idle man waiting for me.” ‘ So she went alone into the Bramber Woods. She wanted a few sketches of English trees in their ruby-tinted autumn dress, and some of the finest in England grew amid the fern and bracken in the Bramber Woods. She had no fear —why should she have any? The sky was blue, the sun bright and warm, the air full of music and song. As she entered the woods she fancied that she heard a faint chim- ing of distant bells. “They are the bells of Lilford’s old church,” she said to herself ; “what a mellow, rich sound. I shall not hear it presently.” | It died away as she entered the beautiful green glades; - the sound could not penetrate the thick masses of foliage. “IT want oak, ash, and elm,” she thought; “and here I shall find all three.” There was a broad, open space, and a majestic oak spread out its great branches there. It was like a little kingdom in itself, this wonderful oak—a great green kingdom with a life allits own. Near it stood a very fine elm, and in the distance she saw the branches of a fine ash tree. Not far from here was a pretty little brook, so clear that one could see the pebbles at the bottom of it; it ran with a sweet, musical ripple that was a song in itself. The birds were having an entertainment of some kind in the green king- dom of leaves, and the noise they made over it was con- tinuous. As she became absorbed in the keen delight of her sketching, she forgot her feathered neighbors. They no longer disturbed her. The wind sounded like an Afolian harp among the trees, but that was music she liked; the merry rabbits hopped among the bracken and fern, the squirrels played among the spreading boughs. It was all so still, so peaceful, so beautiful that she thought she could Comicbooks com — ; whey Satet — PY Ao 1 ae ‘ e7 <7 * he, ° oe ren. Gy Rees /