Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

Wieland: or, the Transformation, an American Tale by Charles Brockden Brown
page 74 of 311 (23%)
rally me upon my prepossessions, and to amuse us with a thousand
ludicrous anecdotes which he had collected in his travels. He
made no scruple to charge me with being in love; and threatened
to inform the swain, when he met him, of his good fortune.

Pleyel's temper made him susceptible of no durable
impressions. His conversation was occasionally visited by
gleams of his ancient vivacity; but, though his impetuosity was
sometimes inconvenient, there was nothing to dread from his
malice. I had no fear that my character or dignity would suffer
in his hands, and was not heartily displeased when he declared
his intention of profiting by his first meeting with the
stranger to introduce him to our acquaintance.

Some weeks after this I had spent a toilsome day, and, as the
sun declined, found myself disposed to seek relief in a walk.
The river bank is, at this part of it, and for some considerable
space upward, so rugged and steep as not to be easily descended.
In a recess of this declivity, near the southern verge of my
little demesne, was placed a slight building, with seats and
lattices. From a crevice of the rock, to which this edifice was
attached, there burst forth a stream of the purest water, which,
leaping from ledge to ledge, for the space of sixty feet,
produced a freshness in the air, and a murmur, the most
delicious and soothing imaginable. These, added to the odours
of the cedars which embowered it, and of the honey-suckle which
clustered among the lattices, rendered this my favorite retreat
in summer.

On this occasion I repaired hither. My spirits drooped
DigitalOcean Referral Badge