Читать книгу The Complete Works of Algernon Blackwood. Novels, Short Stories, Horror Classics, Occult & Supernatural Tales, Plays онлайн

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For a second he hardly knew whether it was the child or the silver birch that nestled down beside him and began to murmur in his ear.

'This is it, you see,' she was saying; 'and there's your wind of inspiration blowing now.'

'We shall have to alter the first verse then,' he said gravely:

'The winds of inspiration blow,

Yet never pass me by.'

'Of course, of course,' she whispered, listening half to her uncle, half to the rustle in the branches. 'And now,' she added presently, 'you can always come and write your poetry here, and it will be very-wonderfulindeed poetry, you see. And if you leave a bit of paper on the tree you'll find it in the morning covered with all sorts of things in very fine writing—oh, but very very fine writing, so small that no one can see it except you and me. One of the Little Winds we saw, you know, will twine round it and leave marks. And the big pine is you and the birch is me, isn't it?' she ended with sudden conviction.

The game, of course, was after her own heart. Up she sprang then suddenly again, picked a spray of leaves from a hanging branch, and brought it back to him.