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- Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 102
- ISBN-10: 1500535192
- ISBN-13: 9781500535193
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.5 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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Description
Hildegarde was walking home from the village, whither she had gone to get the mail. She usually rode the three miles on her bicycle, but she had met a tack on the road the day before, and must now wait a day or two till the injured tire could be mended. Save for missing the sensation of flying, which she found one of the most delightful things in the world, she was hardly sorry to have the walk. One could not see so much from the wheel, unless one rode slowly; and Hildegarde could not ride slowly, -the joy of flying was too great. It was good to look at everything as she went along, to recognise the knots on the trees, and stop for a friendly word with any young sapling that looked as if it needed encouragement. Also, the leaves had fallen, and what could be pleasanter than to walk through them, stirring them up, and hearing the crisp, clean crackle of them under her feet? Also, -and this was the most potent reason, after all, -she could read her letters as she walked, and she had good letters to-d
The promotion ends in 
- Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 102
- ISBN-10: 1500535192
- ISBN-13: 9781500535193
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.5 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
Hildegarde was walking home from the village, whither she had gone to get the mail. She usually rode the three miles on her bicycle, but she had met a tack on the road the day before, and must now wait a day or two till the injured tire could be mended. Save for missing the sensation of flying, which she found one of the most delightful things in the world, she was hardly sorry to have the walk. One could not see so much from the wheel, unless one rode slowly; and Hildegarde could not ride slowly, -the joy of flying was too great. It was good to look at everything as she went along, to recognise the knots on the trees, and stop for a friendly word with any young sapling that looked as if it needed encouragement. Also, the leaves had fallen, and what could be pleasanter than to walk through them, stirring them up, and hearing the crisp, clean crackle of them under her feet? Also, -and this was the most potent reason, after all, -she could read her letters as she walked, and she had good letters to-d
Reviews