Crazy Radio eBooks

The wood indeed, which belonged to the Squire, was a fragment of
things primeval. For generations the trees in it had sprung up,
flourished, and fallen as they pleased. There were corners of it
where the north-west wind sweeping over the bare down above it had
made pathways of death and ruin; sinister places where the fallen or
broken trunks of the great beech trees, as they had crashed
down-hill upon and against each other, had assumed all sorts of
grotesque and phantasmal attitudes, as in a trampled melee of
giants; there were other parts where slender plumed trees, rising
branchless to a great height above open spaces, took the shape from
a distance of Italian stone palms, and gave a touch of southern or
romantic grace to the English midland scene; while at their feet,
the tops of the more crowded sections of the wood lay in close,
billowy masses of leaf, the oaks vividly green, the beeches already
aflame.
'Who says there's a war?' said Captain Chicksands, sinking
luxuriously into a sunny bed of dry leaves, conveniently placed in
front of Elizabeth.


Pages:
148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172