that my pride was hurt at the thought of saying any more.

There was another way in which my pride was at work. I was ashamed,
among those who were so brave, to own that I was afraid; so, though I
held the hands of those who led me pretty tight, and gave them some
little trouble to pull me along, they knew nothing more of my reluctance
to go with them.

We got up the hill very fast; so at least it seemed to me. Here and
there a solitary tree, a few feet in advance, looked as if it had
stepped out to welcome and encourage us to pass on; and I cannot say
that my strength did not revive a little as I passed under the heavy
branches, and out again into the freer air. Be that as it may, it was
terrible enough to me, the approach to those woods. My companions were
eager and gay, and shouted out, as we entered them. They little thought
how overpowering were my feelings. And I little thought, myself, that I
was then and there to receive a lesson that I should never forget; one,
perhaps, that would do me more good than any other that I should ever
learn.

At first, I was so frightened that my senses were all in confusion; but
as I gradually recovered the use of them, I took notice of the coolness
and the shade, and the dimness away in the distance; I heard the leafy
murmur above my head, the sweet notes that the birds were singing, and
the loud echoes. All these things seemed to blend together into
something so solemn and so magnificent, that I began to feel for the
first time what it was to be a little child. With that, soon came a
feeling of confidence and even love. I thought that the majestic
presence that filled the woods, whatever it was, would not hurt me, and
my heart grew so light at the thought, that I began to gather flowers