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Hannah Lynch. Autobiography of a Child
Autobiography of a Child
Table of Contents
Chapter I. LOOKING BACKWARD
Chapter II. MARY JANE
Chapter III. MY BROTHER STEVIE
Chapter IV. THE LAST DAYS OF HAPPINESS
Chapter V. MARTYRDOM
Chapter VI. GRANDFATHER CAMERON
Chapter VII. PROFILES OF CHILDHOOD
Chapter VIII. REVOLT
Chapter IX. MY FRIEND MARY ANN
Chapter X. THE GREAT NEWS
Chapter XI. PREPARING TO FACE THE WORLD
Chapter XII. AN EXILE FROM ERIN
Chapter XIII. AT LYSTERBY
Chapter XIV. THE WHITE LADY OF LYSTERBY
Chapter XV. AN EXILE IN REVOLT
Chapter XVI. MY FIRST CONFESSION
Chapter XVII. THE CHRISTMAS HAMPERS
Chapter XVIII. MR. PARKER THE DANCING-MASTER
Chapter XIX. EPISCOPAL PROTECTION
Chapter XX. HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
Chapter XXI. OLD ACQUAINTANCE
Chapter XXII. A PRINCESS OF LEGEND
Chapter XXIII. MY FIRST TASTE OF FREEDOM
Chapter XXIV. MY ELDEST SISTER
Chapter XXV. OUR BALL
Chapter XXVI. THE SHADOWS
Chapter XXVII. A DISMAL END OF HOLIDAYS
Chapter XXVIII. MY FIRST COMMUNION
Chapter XXIX. THE LAST OF LYSTERBY AND CHILDHOOD
Отрывок из книги
Hannah Lynch
Published by Good Press, 2019
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Let remembrance dwell rather with this thought than upon the darker side of his temper, upon the subtle cruelty of the glance that met mine, upon the quiver of baffled desire that shook his fine nostrils and the vindictive clutch of his bloodless fingers whenever I thoughtlessly raced near him. If he gave me my first draught of the soul's bitters, I still owe him pity and sympathy, and I had my pleasures abroad to console me for his hate.
There were the wide fields and the birds, the swans on the pond, our friend the applewoman, and a band of merry shock-headed playmates outside for me. There were the seasons for my choosing: the spring lanes in their bloomy fragrance; the warm summer mornings, when it was good to sit under trees and pretend to be a bewitched palace waiting for the coming of the prince, or dabble on the brim of pool edges; the autumn luxuriance of fallen leaves, which lent the charmed excitement of rustle to our path along the lanes: and the frost of winter, with the undying joys of sliding and snowballs and the fun of deciphering the meaning of Jack Frost's beautiful pictures on the window-panes and his tricks upon the branches.
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