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Rico and Wiseli by Johanna Spyri
page 63 of 232 (27%)


Rico went forward a little way from the building at which the train had
stopped, and looked about. This white house, the barren square in front
of it, the straight road in the distance, were all new and strange to
his eyes. He had not seen any of them before; and he said to himself, "I
have not come to the right place after all." He went sadly down the road
between the trees, however, until presently the road made a turn, and
the boy stood as if transfixed, and believed himself dreaming, for
before him lay the lake, heavenly blue in the brilliant sunlight, with
its warm, still shores; and yonder were the mountains, and the sunny bay
was there, where the friendly houses sparkled in the distance.

Now he knew where he was. He had seen all this before, he had stood in
this very place, he knew the trees perfectly well; but where was the
cottage? It must have stood there, close to where he now was, but it was
not visible.

The old road was there below. Oh! he knew that well; and there, there
were the great shining red flowers with such green leaves. A little
stone bridge ought to be there, somewhere over the outlet of the lake:
he had often passed over that little bridge, but could not see it where
he stood, however.

Rico started off, as if driven by the longing that now took possession
of him. Down the road he ran; and over there,--yes, that was the little
stone bridge. Every thing came back to him: there he had crossed, and
somebody held him by the hand,--his mother. Suddenly his mother's face
came before his eyes quite distinctly; he had never seen it so clearly
before. He remembered how she had stood there and looked at him with
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