See, mother, it is almost dark before the day is over, and there
are no travellers yonder on the village road.

The shepherd boy has gone home early from the pasture, and men
have left their fields to sit on mats under the eaves of their
huts, watching the scowling clouds.

Mother, I have left all my books on the shelf--do not ask me to
do my lessons now.

When I grow up and am big like my father, I shall learn all that
must be learnt.

But just for to-day, tell me, mother, where the desert of
Tepântar in the fairy tale is?




THE RAINY DAY


Sullen clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the
forest.

O child, do not go out!

The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads
against the dismal sky; the crows with their draggled wings are