Part 21 (2/2)

Home Again George MacDonald 25470K 2022-07-22

”So, my bird of paradise, you sing too?” said Walter.

”Very little. A friend to whom I sent it, took it, without asking me, to one of the magazines for children, but they wouldn't have it. Tell me if it is worth printing. Not that I want it printed--not a bit!”

”I begin to think, Molly, that anything you write must be worth printing! But I wonder you should ask one who has proved himself so incompetent to give a true opinion, that even what he has given he is unable to defend!”

”I shall always trust your opinion, Walter--only it must be an opinion: you gave a judgment then without having formed an opinion. Shall I read?”

”Yes, please, Molly. I never used to like having poetry read to me, but you _can_ read poetry!”

”This is easy to read!” said Molly.

”See the countless angels hover!

See the mother bending over!

See the shepherds, kings and cow!

What is baby thinking now?

Oh, to think what baby thinks Would be worth all holy inks!

But he smiles such lovingness, That I will not fear to guess!--

'Father called; you would not come!

Here I am to take you home!

'For the father feels the dearth Of his children round his hearth--

'Wants them round and on his knee-- That's his throne for you and me!'

Something lovely like to this Surely lights that look of bliss!

Or if something else be there, Then 'tis something yet more fair;

For within the father's breast Lies the whole world in its nest,”

She ceased.

Walter said nothing. His heart was full. What verses were these beside Lufa's fire-works!

”You don't care for them!” said Molly, sadly, but with the sweetest smile. ”It's not that I care so much about the poetry; but I do love what I thought the baby might be thinking: it seems so true! so fit to be true!”

”The poetry is lovely, anyhow!” said Walter. ”And one thing I am sure of--the father will not take me on his knee, if I go on as I have been doing! You must let me see everything you write, or have written, Molly!

Should you mind?”

”Surely not, Walter! We used to read everything we thought might be yours!”

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