Chapter 3 little john one

I'm going to tell you a little about Little John.My story, the rhyme is like a fairy tale, but everything has come true.If you don't believe it anymore, you don't need to read on, because that means I didn't do it for you.And if you ever meet little John, don't tell him that, for it hurts him, and I'll be sorry to tell you all about it. John lives in an old house with a big garden.It was not easy to see inside, for the house was filled with dark passages, escalators, small rooms, and a large storehouse, and the garden was full of protective walls and greenhouses.This is the whole world to John.There he can take long walks, and whatever he finds he gives a name to.For the rooms, he invented names from the animal kingdom: the Caterpillar Bank, because he had kept worms there; the Chicken Cottage, because he had found a hen there.But the hen didn't run away by herself, but John's mother kept it there to hatch her eggs.For the garden he selected names from the vegetable kingdom, with particular emphasis on his important produce.He distinguished a raspberry hill, a pear grove, and a berry valley.At the end of the garden was a little place which he called Paradise, which was of course beautiful.There is a vast expanse of water, a pool in which white water lilies float, where reeds and wind often whisper.On that side stood several sand hills.This paradise was originally a little meadow on this side of the shore, surrounded by thickets, and the wild cabele grew luxuriantly in the middle.There John was often lying in the tall grass, looking out from among the undulating reed leaves to the hill beyond the water.On hot summer nights, he was always there, and stared at it for many hours, and he never felt tired.He thought about how peaceful it was in the depths of the still and clear water, among the aquatic plants in that strange sunset, and then he thought about the distant, strangely colored clouds floating on the hill— —What is it like in the back? Is that place beautiful? If you can fly there.As soon as the sun went down, the clouds piled up so high that it looked like the entrance of a cave, and there was a reddish light shining in the depths of the cave.This is exactly what John expected. "Can I fly there!" he thought. "What's going on behind the scenes? Will I really, really be able to go there in the future?"

Although he often wished this way, the cave was always scattered with thick and faint clouds, and he never got close to it.Then it became cold and damp by the pool, and he had to visit his dim little room in the old house again. He did not live quite alone there; he had a father who brought him up well, a dog named Presto, and a cat named Simon.He naturally loved his father the most, yet Presto and Simon were not so low in his estimation as they were adults.He also believed that Presto had many more secrets than his father, and he was in awe of Simon.But that's no surprise either!Simon was a big cat with glossy black fur and a thick tail.It can be seen that it prides itself on its own greatness and intelligence.In its circumstances it always retains its dignity and dignity, even when it condescends to play with a rolling cork, or swallows the head of an abandoned sardine behind a tree.When Presto misbehaved, he glared at him contemptuously with his green eyes, and thought: Well, the brute doesn't know anything else.

Do you understand now what John was in awe of it?With this little brown Presto, he got along perfectly well.He was not beautiful or noble, but he was an animal of extraordinary sincerity and understanding, which could never be separated from John, and which listened patiently to what his master had to say.It's hard for me to tell you how much John loved this Presto.But in his heart, there is still a lot of space left for other things.Doesn't it surprise you that his dark little room with its small glass windows occupies an important place there too?He loves the rug, the one with the large pattern, in which he knows the face, and its form, and he has inspected it many times, if he is sick, or awake in bed in the morning;— ——He loves the only small painting hanging there, which shows immobile tourists walking in the especially immobile garden, along the smooth edge of the pool, which sprays fountains reaching the sky, and charming The human swan is swimming.His favorite, however, was the clock.He always opened it with great care; and if it knocked, he looked at it as a solemn duty.But of course this was only when John was still asleep.If the clock stopped due to his negligence, John felt very sorry, and he asked it to forgive him a thousand times.You would probably laugh if you heard him talking to his clock or his room.But take heed, how often you talk with yourselves.None of you think this is ridiculous.In addition, John believed that his opponent knew it all and didn't ask for an answer.Even so, he secretly waited occasionally for the echo of the bell or the carpet.

Although John still has friends at school, they are not friends.He played and partnered with them at school, and formed a gang of robbers outside—but he felt really comfortable only with Presto.So he didn't want the children to come near, and he felt completely at ease and safe. His father, a wise and earnest man, took John on journeys from time to time, through woods and Camfuds.They did not talk very much, and John followed his father's ten steps, greeted the flowers when he met them, and stroked the old tree that never moved, on the rough bark, with a loving little hand.So the well-meaning giants expressed their thanks to him amidst the rustling.

On the way, my father often wrote letters on the sand, one after another, and John spelled out the words made by it—and my father often stood still and taught John the name of a plant or animal. John also asked questions from time to time, for he saw and heard many mysteries.Questions were common; he asked why the world was the way it was, why animals and plants had to die, and whether miracles could happen.John's father, however, was a wise man, and he did not tell everything he knew.This is good for John. At night, before he lay down to sleep, John always said a long prayer.This is what the girl in charge of the children taught him.He prayed for his father and Presto.Simon needn't do this, he thought.He also prayed long for himself, dying, almost always with the hope that there would always be a miracle in the future.After he said "Amen", he looked around the semi-dark room expectantly, to the pattern on the carpet that looked more strange than usual in the slight dusk, to the doorknob, to the clock, from Miracles are possible there.But the clock kept running like this, and the handle didn't move; it was all dark, and John was asleep, and no miracle happened.But there had to be one time, and he knew that.

----------------------------------------- 1. R? uberbande, a title of the game.back to the article