. The bird. Birds. THE STUDY OF NATURE. 39. ;;^T l^ looked forward with a delirious impatience that per- haps love has never known. But now that my father himself was leaving us — heaven, earth, everything seemed undone. With whatever hope of reunion he mio-ht endeavour to cheer me, an internal voice, dis- tinct and tenible, such as one hears in great trials, toLl me that he would return no more. " The house was sold, and the plantations laid out by our hands, tlie trees which belonged to the family, were abandoned. Our animals were plainly inconsolable at my father s departure. The dog—I
. The bird. Birds. THE STUDY OF NATURE. 39. ;;^T l^ looked forward with a delirious impatience that per- haps love has never known. But now that my father himself was leaving us — heaven, earth, everything seemed undone. With whatever hope of reunion he mio-ht endeavour to cheer me, an internal voice, dis- tinct and tenible, such as one hears in great trials, toLl me that he would return no more. " The house was sold, and the plantations laid out by our hands, tlie trees which belonged to the family, were abandoned. Our animals were plainly inconsolable at my father s departure. The dog—I forget for how many successive days—seated himself on the road which he had taken at his departure, howled, and returned. The most disinherited of all, the cat Moquo, no longer confided in any person, though he still came to regard with fui-tive glances the empty place. Then he took his resolution, and fled to the woods, from which we could never call him back; he resumed his early life, miserable and savage. " And I, too, I quitted the paternal roof, the hearth of my young years, with a heart for ever wounded. My mother, my sister, my brothers, the sweet friend- ships of infancy, disappeared behind me. I entered upon a life of trial and isolation. At Bayonne, how- ever, where I first resided, the sea of Biarritz spoke to me of my father; the waves which break on its shore, from America to Europe, repeated the story of his death; the snow-white ocean birds seemed to say, ' We have seen him.' "Wliat remained to me? My climate, my birth- land, my language. But even these I lost. I was. Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability - coloration and appearance of these illustrations may not perfectly resemble the original Michelet, Jules, 1798-1874; Giacomelli, Hector, 1822-1904. London ; New York : T. Nelson
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Keywords: ., bookauthormich, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, booksubjectbirds
