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The Malady of the Century by Max Simon Nordau
page 9 of 469 (01%)
get there he had first to find in the tumbledown wall a hole large
enough to enable him to get through. He shortly found himself in a
fairly large square space, the uneven ground being formed of a mass
of rubbish, mounds of earth, and deep holes. Woods protected the
greater part of it, most of the trees stunted and choked by
undergrowth and shrubs, with occasionally a high, solitary pine
tree, and near to the west and south walls half-withered oaks and
mighty beeches stood thickly. Here and there from the bushes peeped
up bare pieces of crumbling stone and broken pieces of mortar, in
whose crevices hung long grasses, and where yellow, white, and red
flowers nestled. Climbing, stumbling, and slipping, he worked his
way through this wilderness, the length and breath of which he
wished to inspect so as to discover a place where he could rest
quietly, when he suddenly came to a precipitous fall of the ground,
concealed from him by a thick curtain of leaves. Startled and taken
by surprise, the ground seemed to him to sink under his feet. He
instinctively caught hold of some branches to keep himself from
falling, pricking his hands with the thorns, and breaking a slender
bough, finally rolling in company with dust and earth, torn-out
bushes and stone, down a steep declivity of several feet to a little
grass plot at the bottom. He heard a slight scream near him, and a
girlish form sprang up and cried in an anxious voice:

"Have you hurt yourself?"

Wilhelm picked himself up as quickly as he could, brushed the earth
from his clothes, and taking off his cap said, "Thanks, not much.
Only a piece of awkwardness. But I am afraid I have frightened you?"
he added.

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