. Our village. from aninstinctive fear of their tricks and their thoughtlessness ;partly, I suspect, from jealousy. Jealousy seems astrange tragic passion to attribute to the inmates of thebasse cour,—but only look at that strutting fellow of abantam cock (evidently a favourite), who sidles up tohis old mistress with an air half affronted and halftender, turning so scornfully from the barley-corns whichAnnie is flinging towards him, and say if he be not asjealous as Othello ? Nothing can pacify him but ]\ notice and a dole from her hand. See, she iscalling to him and feeding him, and
. Our village. from aninstinctive fear of their tricks and their thoughtlessness ;partly, I suspect, from jealousy. Jealousy seems astrange tragic passion to attribute to the inmates of thebasse cour,—but only look at that strutting fellow of abantam cock (evidently a favourite), who sidles up tohis old mistress with an air half affronted and halftender, turning so scornfully from the barley-corns whichAnnie is flinging towards him, and say if he be not asjealous as Othello ? Nothing can pacify him but ]\ notice and a dole from her hand. See, she iscalling to him and feeding him, and now how he swellsout his feathers, and flutters his wings, and erects hisglossy neck, and struts and crows and pecks, proudestand happiest of bantams, the pet and glory of thepoultry yard ! In the meantime my own pet Alay, who has all thiswhile been peeping into every hole, and penetratingevery nook and winding of the dell, in hopes to findanother rabbit, has returned to my side, and is sliding -«?g&ife. Cojiyrli^ltl 1893 /y MatmilUin fjr d, THE DELL 121 her snake-like head into my hand, at once to invite thecaress which she Hkes so well, and to intimate, with alldue respect, that it is time to go home. The settingsun gives the same warning ; and in a moment we arcthrough the dell, the field, and the gate, past the farmand the mill, and hanging over the bridge that crossesthe Loddon river. What a sunset! how golden ! how beautiful ! Thesun just disappearing, and the narrow liny clouds, whicha few minutes ago la)- like soft vapour)- streaks alongthe horizon, lighted up with a golden splendour that theeye can scarceh endure, and those still softer cloudswhich floated above them wreathing and curling intoa thousand fantastic forms, as thin and changeful assummer smoke, now defined and deepened into grandeur,and edged with ineffable, insufferable light! Anotherminute and the brilliant orb totally disappears, and thesky above grows every moment more varied and morebeautiful as t
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Keywords: ., bookauthorritchieannethackeray1, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
