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84 Chit-Chat by Puck.
paradise of birchen-girdled lakes. When at last he
awakened the sun had long risen, and their airy
voyage commenced anew.
“What a strange place this is we are now passing ! ”
said Harold ; and he pointed to-the high black hills,
separated by the yawning chasms.
“This is the work of human labour. During
many centuries striving men have here dug up the
very marrow of the earth, have gathered iron ore,
and have forged ploughs to till the soil, and swords
to defend the country,” was the swan’s answer.
Now by degrees the mountains on their road
became more stupendous, and the forests more im-
penetrable. Broad rivers rushed forth into the valleys,
and foaming cataracts precipitated themselves from
rock to rock. <A white light glimmered suddenly
against the horizon.
“Is it a flock of swans coming there?” Harold
asked.
“No, it is the snowy mountain tops.”
Harold gazed and gazed around him, and his
heart throbbed with increased love for this paradise
which he had not known, though so near his home.
And he kissed and patted the swan that had brought
him to see all this. Time was fleeting rapidly, but
Harold thought they had been a long time on the:r
journey, and so he said, “Is not the day waning
towards night?”
“Oh! it is night now.”
“But the sun shines still ?”
“Yes! thus is the summer night of my paradise~
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