Shirley Blythe had been born lucky.
It was almost a pun, a silly little joke, but while Mother had suffered all sorts of complications after his birth, and Dad said he wouldn't have lived with Susan's tender care, he'd nevertheless survived and thrived – it had taken months for Mother to recover fully. Some would have called his fate luck; Aunt Marilla said it was Providence and Susan proclaimed it a mercy. He knew vaguely of another child, a daughter of Mother and Dad's, who had been born before Jem and lived for only a day. Nobody would have dared to call her unlucky. Certainly Susan never told him he was lucky when she tucked him into bed at night – she rarely permitted Mother to do it – though she always called him 'that blessed boy'. Ma…Read more >
When I walk at night,
I never take a light,
For there are fairies, yet
Beyond the rim of lamplight, I bet.
They are on the flowers,dancing,
Dressed in purple frocks and prancing,
The dryads of the trees have all come out
Watching me and fluttering all about.
All the spirits of the flowers
And the elfkin in their bowers
Dance in the silver moonlight
In the magical hour in night.
For in their enchanted nightRead more >
They revel ... oh, what a sight
But only those who live in fairyland, see it
For the magic is only for the gentle, to meet it.