. Crisis. 9 years of age,the daughter of a coloredlawyer, and the prettiestdark child in the village. She had long played in the fairyland ofknowledge, and was far advanced for oneof her years. A vivid imagination was her chief endowment, and her story creatures often became real fiesh-and-blood crea-tures. I wonder, she said to herself that afternoon, if there is anj^ such thing as a colored fairy? Surely there must be, but in this bf ok theyre all the book, her eyes rested upon the landscape that rolled itself out lazily before her. The stalks in the cornfield bent and swayed,
. Crisis. 9 years of age,the daughter of a coloredlawyer, and the prettiestdark child in the village. She had long played in the fairyland ofknowledge, and was far advanced for oneof her years. A vivid imagination was her chief endowment, and her story creatures often became real fiesh-and-blood crea-tures. I wonder, she said to herself that afternoon, if there is anj^ such thing as a colored fairy? Surely there must be, but in this bf ok theyre all the book, her eyes rested upon the landscape that rolled itself out lazily before her. The stalks in the cornfield bent and swayed, their tassels bowing to the breeze, until Anna-belle could have eas-ily sworn that those were Indian fairies. And beyond lay the woods, dark and mossy and cool, and there many a some- thing mysterious could have sprung into being, for in the recess was a silvery pool where the children played barefooted. A sum-mer mist like a thin veil hung over the scene, and the breeze whispered tales of far-away Hist! Something stirred in the hazelbush near her. Can I describe little Anna-belles amazement at finding in the bush apalace and a tall and dark-faced fairybefore it? I am Amunophis, the Lily of Ethiopia,said the strange creature. And I come totHe children of the Seventh Veil. She was black and regal, and her voicewas soft and low and gentle like the Nigeron a summer evening. Her dress was thewing of the sacredbeetle, and wheneverthe wind stirred itplayed the dreamiestof music. Her feetwere bound withgolden sandals, andon her head was acrown of lotusleaves. A n d y 0 ur e afairy? gasped An-nabelle. Yes, I am a fairy,just as you wishedme to be. I live inthe tall gTass many,many miles away,where a beautiful? river called theNiger sleeps. Andstretching herself be-s i d e Annabelle, onthe lawn, the fairybegan to whisper: I have lived therefor over 5,000 the long ago acity rested there, andfrom that spot blackmen and womenruled the ships ladenwith spice and o
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectafrican, bookyear1910
