Pokračování textu ze strany 157
The little Rumor was quite touched by her silent sorrow. He was easily touched, though never deeply, and he flew off to tell somebody, anybody, how deep his feelings were.
He had scarcely taken wing when the Birch-tree whispered, “What news, what news, little Tittle-tattle?”
“Oh, such a sad case!” answered the Rumor, and his long tongue shot out like a snake’s. “A beautiful child of the stars has fallen down here and sits now silent, dumb with sorrow, on a bank, and her finger is bleeding frightfully.”
“What, all about a scratched finger? She must be seriously hurt, probably wounded elsewhere.”
“Yes, that ’s so; it did seem more serious than a scratched finger. I dare say she has many wounds.” ..text pokračuje
