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Dunsany, Lord (Edward J. M. D. Plunkett), 1878-1957

"The Book of Wonder"

And partly she still lived, and partly she was one
with long-ago and with those sacred tales that nurses tell, when all
their children are good, and evening has come, and the fire is burning
well, and the soft pat-pat of the snowflakes on the pane is like the
furtive tread of fearful things in old, enchanted woods. If at first
she missed those dainty novelties among which she was reared, the old,
sufficient song of the mystical sea singing of faery lore at first
soothed and at last consoled her. Even, she forgot those
advertisements of pills that are so dear to England; even, she forgot
political cant and the things that one discusses and the things that
one does not, and had perforce to contend herself with seeing sailing
by huge golden-laden galleons with treasure for Madrid, and the merry
skull-and-cross-bones of the pirateers, and the tiny nautilus setting
out to sea, and ships of heroes trafficking in romance or of princes
seeking for enchanted isles.
It was not by chains that the dragon kept her there, but by one of the
spells of old. To one to whom the facilities of the daily Press had
for so long been accorded spells would have palled--you would have
said--and galleons after a time and all things out-of-date. After a
time. But whether the centuries passed her or whether the years or
whether no time at all, she did not know.


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