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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Flight of the Shadow"

I live but for
that--and for one thing more."
There are some, I fancy, who would blame him for not being sure, and
bring text after text to prove that he ought to have been sure. But oh
those text-people! They look to me, not like the clay-sparrows that Jesus
made fly, but like bird-skins in a glass-case, stuffed with texts. The
doubt of a man like my uncle must be a far better thing than their
assurance!
"Would you have been frightened if you had met him on the moor last
night, little one?" he asked, after a pause.
"Oh, no, uncle!" I returned. "I should have thought it was you till I
came nearer, and then I should have known who it was! He wouldn't like a
big girl like me to be frightened at him--would he?"
"Indeed not!'" answered my uncle fervently; but again his words brought
with them a great sigh, and he said no more.
When we reached home, he gave me up to Martha, and went out again--nor
returned before I was in bed. But he came to my room, and waked me with a
kiss, which sent me faster asleep than before.


CHAPTER VIII.

THANATOS AND ZOE
I think it must have been soon after this that my uncle bought himself a
horse. I know something of horses now--that is, if much riding and much
love suffice to give a knowledge of them--and the horse which was a glory
and a wonder to me then, is a glory and a wonder to me still.


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