This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 Excerpt: ...the sun is getting high over the hills even now; let us push on, soon we shall be out of the reach of his stones.' But seeing Astathes still frightened, he said, 'Let us try if the flute will help us;' so he played two or three notes of sweet music, and it seemed that directly they had got out of reach of the stones, ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 Excerpt: ...the sun is getting high over the hills even now; let us push on, soon we shall be out of the reach of his stones.' But seeing Astathes still frightened, he said, 'Let us try if the flute will help us;' so he played two or three notes of sweet music, and it seemed that directly they had got out of reach of the stones, and heard no more of the bad language which had troubled them. So they walked on together, and began talking as little boys might talk. 'Oh Agape, ' said Astathes, 'I wonder how long the journey will take us, I long to get safely to its end.' 'I hardly dare think yet of its end, ' said the other, 'for we have only just set out; but I, too, long to get to the end.' 'What a fine place that garden must be.' 'Yes, and there I shall see again my father and mother, and the kind sister who used to nurse me when I was little; and there we shall see the king of the country, who is kind to children, and loves to have them come and live with him.' So they talked; and now they had come nearly to the waste, and first looked out into it. 'It looks very dreary and rough, Agape, ' said Astathes. 'Oh! never mind its looking rough, I can see already a pathway through the thorns which frighten you.' 'Well, if you were not with me, I think even now I should turn back.' 'Never speak of turning back, ' said Agape, and just then he reached the last stile which parted the garden from the waste. Lightly he sprung over it, and was setting out on the waste without thinking of looking behind, when he heard the voice of Astathes, who had not yet crossed the stile. 'Wait a minute, Agape, . I want to gather some of this fruit to take with us; we shall have none, I can see, on the waste.' 'No, no, dear Astathes, do not stop for the fruit; we shall find what we want on the way.'
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