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Read Ebook: The Death Ship: A Strange Story Vol. 2 (of 3) by Russell William Clark
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Ebook has 722 lines and 44133 words, and 15 pages
ADVENTURES IN WIZARD-LAND--
THE OLD-FANGLED FATHER AND HIS NEW-FANGLED SONS
ALL ON A FIFTH OF NOVEMBER
A BIRTHDAY STORY
LITTLE STARRY
ROSELLA
THE CUCKOO THAT LIVED IN THE CLOCK-HOUSE
ONE APRIL DAY
THE STORM THE TEAPOT BREWED
THE FISH-KING AND THE DOG-FISH
"SO YOU'VE COME TO SEE THE WIZARD," HE SAID
ITS HEAD WAS PATTED GRACIOUSLY
WHAT A GLORIOUS RIDE THAT WAS
SHE STROKED IT--ACTUALLY STROKED IT
TAKING THE BOY AND GIRL BY A HAND, HE LED THEM
THE LITTLE PICTURE GIRL
IN MARCHED A STOUT BEADLE
THEN SHE ACCEPTED HIS INVITATION TO DANCE
"IT IS YOU, O PRINCE, THE YOUTH OF MY DREAM!"
"YOU CAN JUST HAND OVER THAT PHEASANT"
"WHO ARE YOU, THEN?"
IT WAS A VERY, VERY LONG LADDER
THE TWO REINDEER ... SPED RAPIDLY AWAY
LAY LOW, AND HATCHED AN AUDACIOUS PLOT
"OF COURSE YOUR YOUNG MAJESTY HAS GOT THE KEY?"
"I REALLY DO LOOK EVERY INCH A KING!"
LOOKING NEITHER TO THE RIGHT NOR TO THE LEFT
ROUND ABOUT WAS NOTHING BUT MOUNTAINS, CRATERS, CAVERNS
ADVENTURES IN WIZARD-LAND
"ALL THESE POOR CREATURES WERE CHILDREN"
HE TOOK TWO JEWELLED CIRCLETS OUT OF A SATCHEL
"I AM THE BIRD-FAIRY," SHE SAID
THEY MET MANY A QUAINT CREATURE
THE WIZARD, WITH A GROAN OF PAIN, HAD LEAPT BACK
LYING FULL LENGTH ON THE GROUND NEXT TO HIS SHATTERED INVENTION
INITIAL
HE MOUNTED IT VERY CAREFULLY
SMILED AS SHE WAVED GOOD-BYE
"I SUPPOSE YOU KNOW YOU'RE TRESPASSING?"
MONICA THE MOON CHILD
SHE WAS SOARING LIKE A BIRD RIGHT OUT INTO THE NIGHT
A TINY FIGURE, NO BIGGER THAN MONICA'S DOLL
ROWS UPON ROWS OF THE BEAUTIFULLEST ROSES
THE MAN LIFTED HIS ARM SO THAT HIS FACE WAS ONCE MORE HIDDEN IN GLOOM
A KNOCK AT THE RED DOOR
"It's a shame, Dulcie. We mayn't go out just because it's raining a few drops," said the boy at the nursery window.
"Yes, a fearful shame," replied his sister. She always sympathised with him and gave in to him, right or wrong. She carefully propped her doll bolt upright on a chair and came to where he stood. "Never mind, Cyril. Let's play at something."
"No, I don't want to, but I've got to. Mother says it is for our good, and we are spoilt."
"I don't think so at all. It's very hard lines," growled Cyril. "I'm sure the garden isn't a bit wet, and the rocks have only a sprinkle."
Certainly the window panes had more than a sprinkle trickling down them. But the birds were twittering fussily in the bushes and amongst the ivy, and the garden was looking its best in the summer shower. Fitful gleams of sunshine cast loving touches here and there on the roses and the sweet honeysuckle; and the tall white lilies never looked fresher or smarter. Beyond, were those tempting rocks, with their surroundings of sand, which rose so strangely in that part of inland Kent, telling of former ages and of the vagaries of the sea and river. The rocks were the happy playground of these lucky Twins, who lived in the fine solitary house close by, and who were now peering so disconsolately through the window, flattening their noses against the glass blurred with the pattering rain.
They were exactly the same height; they resembled one another in feature, and, being twins, were both nine years old; and there the likeness ended, for his dark hair was short and thick, and hers was fair and very long. She was timid and gentle though her bright face was very happy; he, what is termed "a handful."
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