Gritli's Children by Johanna Spyri


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Page 1

V. ON OAK-RIDGE

VI. AUNTY IS IN DEMAND AGAIN

VII. WHAT OSCAR FOUNDED AND WHAT EMMA PLANNED

VIII. AT SUNSET

IX. A LAST JOURNEY AND A FIRST


VOLUME II

I. THE NEW HOME

II. A JOURNEY

III. ON THE BEAUTIFUL RHINE

IV. IN THE FISHERMAN'S HUT

V. GREAT PREPARATIONS

VI. ANXIETY AT ROSEMOUNT

VII. AN UNEXPECTED TERMINATION

VIII. THE HAPPY END




VOLUME ONE


CHAPTER I.

AT THE COUNTRY-HOUSE ON THE RHINE.


The golden sunshine of a glorious June morning flooded the roses of the
beautiful garden that surrounded a handsome stone villa on the banks of
the Rhine. A thousand sweet perfumes borne upon the gentle breeze
mounted like incense to the open windows, and sought entrance there.
From a great basin in the middle of the garden, a slender shaft of water
rose straight up into the blue sky, and then fell plashing back,
sprinkling the flowers and the grass with sparkling moisture. Gay
butterflies fluttered hither and thither, sipping sweets from the
honey-laden flowers. Under the trees stood marble statues gleaming white
through the shadows; and seats in sheltered nooks invited the loiterer
to rest and listen to the concert of the myriad birds that made their
happy homes in this paradise of summer beauty.

At the closed window of one of the upper rooms of this delightful house
sat a little maiden, pressing her pale face against the wide, clear
glass, as she peered out with longing eyes over the roses, toward the
wavering fountain, and into the depths of the trees, whose graceful
branches stirred in the light breeze. Her gaze passed over the shining
flowers and the green terraces of the sunny garden, and rested far away
on the glistening waves of the fast-flowing Rhine, that ran past the
foot of the garden, bathing caressingly the long over-hanging branches
of the old linden trees as it passed along. The rich foliage of the
trees by the river-side was visible from the windows of the house; but
not the stone bench which stood in the cool shade, so close to the water
that one could look from it directly down into the eddying waves, and
watch the drooping branches dip and rise again and again, as if in pure
delight. What a spot for summer dreaming and castle-building! The pale
child at the window knew the place well; and as her eyes turned in that
direction, the expression of longing grew more and more painful as she
gazed.

"Oh, mamma!" she cried presently, with tears in her voice, "may I not go
out soon into the garden, and down to the seat under the lindens by the
river?"

An hour before, the mother had brought her suffering little girl into
this room, and placed her in her favorite resting-place in the
window-seat, and her anxious gaze had scarcely left the pale little
face, with its big eyes full of pain, that looked so longingly into the
beautiful garden, which the poor child could not enjoy in any other way.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 18th Aug 2019, 19:33