第11部分 (第1/9页)

the　Orient　and　the　plenteous　harvests　of　the　Golden　West　might　no　more

pass　between　nation　and　nation。　For　some　time　the　trees　and　flowers

grew　on；　despite　the　intense　cold。　Birds　flew　into　the　houses　for

safety；　and　those　which　winter　had　overtaken　lay　on　the　snow　with　wings

spread　in　vain　flight。　At　last　the　foliage　and　blossoms　fell　at　the　feet

of　Winter。　The　petals　of　the　flowers　were　turned　to　rubies　and

sapphires。　The　leaves　froze　into　emeralds。　The　trees　moaned　and　tossed

their　branches　as　the　frost　pierced　them　through　bark　and　sap；　pierced

into　their　very　roots。　I　shivered　myself　awake；　and　with　a　tumult　of　joy

I　breathed　the　many　sweet　morning　odours　wakened　by　the　summer　sun。

One　need　not　visit　an　African　jungle　or　an　Indian　forest　to　hunt　the

tiger。　One　can　lie　in　bed　amid　downy　pillows　and　dream　tigers　as

terrible　as　any　in　the　pathless　wild。　I　was　a　little　girl　when　one　night

I　tried　to　cross　the　garden　in　front　of　my　aunt's　house　in　Alabama。　I

was　in　pursuit　of　a　large　cat　with　a　great　bushy　tail。　A　few　hours

before　he　had　clawed　my　little　canary　out　of　its　cage　and　crunched　it

between　his　cruel　teeth。　I　could　not　see　the　cat。　But　the　thought　in　my

mind　was　distinct：　〃He　is　making　for　the　high　grass　at　the　end　of　the

garden。　I'll　get　there　first！〃　I　put　my　hand　on　the　box　border　and　ran

swiftly　along　the　path。　When　I　reached　t