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Journeys Through Bookland — Volume 5 by Charles Herbert Sylvester
page 66 of 462 (14%)
could not speak a word. In a few minutes I came to myself, and he
carried me safe to my little nurse, who by this time had returned to the
place where she left me, and was in cruel agonies when I did not appear
nor answer when she called. She severely reprimanded the gardener on
account of his dog.

This accident absolutely determined Glumdalclitch never to trust me
abroad for the future out of her sight. I had been long afraid of this
resolution, and therefore concealed from her some little unlucky
adventures that happened in those times when I was left by myself. Once
a kite hovering over the garden made a stoop at me, and if I had not
resolutely drawn my hanger, and run under a thick espalier, he would
have certainly carried me away in his talons.

Another time, walking to the top of a fresh molehill, I fell to my neck
in the hole through which that animal had cast up the earth, and coined
some lie, not worth remembering, to excuse myself for spoiling my
clothes. I likewise broke my right shin against the shell of a snail,
which I happened to stumble over, as I was walking alone, and thinking
on poor England.

I cannot tell whether I were more pleased or mortified to observe, in
those solitary walks, that the smaller birds did not appear to be at all
afraid of me, but would hop about within a yard distance, looking for
worms and other food, with as much indifference and security as if no
creature at all were near them. I remember, a thrush had the confidence
to snatch out of my hand, with his bill, a piece of cake that
Glumdalclitch had just given me for my breakfast. When I attempted to
catch any of these birds they would boldly turn against me, endeavoring
to peck my fingers, which I durst not venture within their reach; and
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