The House Without Windows quotes

Next came the ground flowers. There were seven kinds of roses, and there was a whole corner devoted to early spring flowers: crocuses, daffodils, squills, and narcissi. Another corner was carpeted with tender anemones, all snow-white.

In the centre of the garden there was a circular bed filled with iris of all kinds and colours.

Clematis and morning-glory vines climbed over the wooden benches, and near the centre was a tall arch with ramblers climbing all over it. Another bed was thickly clustered with great purple violets. The paths through the garden had gracefully bending ferns on each side.

But after a few minutes she grew tired and settled down to a reasonable pace. And as she slowed down she came into an enormous field of rhododendrons, lavender, white, and brilliant red.

Oh, what a gorgeous place that was!

As Eepersip walked along, an oriole sang from a bush; she peeped into a hummingbird’s nest with two tiny white eggs in it; she startled a vireo from its nest in a low clump of grass, and, peeping into it, found three baby birds.

As Eepersip walked along, an oriole sang from a bush; she peeped into a hummingbird’s nest with two tiny white eggs in it; she startled a vireo from its nest in a low clump of grass, and, peeping into it, found three baby birds.

The farther she went the more her heart began to leap within her for joy of the life she was finding for herself.

Her loneliness decreased, and she was as free and happy as the birds or butterflies.

Beneath the branches of a white pine grew blushing lady-slippers, which Eepersip had never seen before.

“Dawn comes to earth sometimes,” she thought, “bringing her flower-clouds and clasping them with pearl seeds.”

Eepersip was anxious to know what was on the southern slope of this highest peak of Mt. Varcrobis. So one day along she went, happily singing, until she came to it.

One of the bucks knocked gently on the glass door with his antler. Eepersip turned; a smile crept over her face at the sight of her beloved comrades. The buck, as softly as he could, broke one of the glass doors, wood and all.

Then the deer, all except the fawn, bounded off to the field again.

The sound of breaking glass reached the ears of Mr. Ikkisfield, who was awake, all too late; for by the time he had wakened the others—which he did by shouting “Get up! get up!

Eepersip could see every colour of the rainbow reflected in each crystal—orange, purple, green, blue, red, and many, many iridescent tints. Full of joy, she looked down upon the river once more, through the glittering iridescence.

The longer she looked, the better she could see the river.

But at last the sun went in again; it had been out hardly long enough to melt one snowflake. Everywhere round Eepersip went the chipmunk’s little footprints, for he had shared her delight.

This they had done, and the chipmunk had been tempted. He had come up cautiously and nibbled at them. He loved Eepersip dearly.

He had never received harm from one of those queer two-legged creatures.

He trusted them. But, while he had been nibbling, Mr. Brunio had sneaked up quietly and taken him. Thus he had been captured.

It was warm, although a wind was blowing—the delicious wind of spring. This marvellous spring air made her blood course quickly. She felt extremely happy and dancy.

Her body seemed to her lighter than ever, in spite of its strength.

Her spirit was so joyous that she could not express it in action; she had to let part of it out in song. But song, however light and happy, could not quite express Eepersip’s feeling.

In November the first snow of the winter fell. The flakes came thick and fast, like white and silver butterflies dancing, flying.

Eepersip took them in her hands and noticed how each flake had its own shape, which was never found again.

During that day in October Snowflake had worn a brown crown of a dead leaf, but now she wore a white one.

In November the first snow of the winter fell.

The flakes came thick and fast, like white and silver butterflies dancing, flying.

Eepersip took them in her hands and noticed how each flake had its own shape, which was never found again. During that day in October Snowflake had worn a brown crown of a dead leaf, but now she wore a white one.

Then she would look back at the little precipice. She thought: “I cannot fly! They do it from the air, but I cannot. I can do it from the precipice! Why not?” Then, aloud:

“I will be a bird⁠—I will do it!”

She walked back to the point where the cliff towered from the beach. She climbed up. She selected, in the water so far below, a place that was free from the treacherous-looking rocks.

A small back door opened into the lovely woods at the back of the house. Quickly Eepersip made her way out into the open; and everything looked twice as lovely as before.

How light it was, with all the world a window, instead of those silly little peepholes fringed about!

How much more glowing everything was! Oh, nothing in a house could compare with the world of light that Eepersip lived in!

Quickly Eepersip made her way out into the open; and everything looked twice as lovely as before. How light it was, with all the world a window, instead of those silly little peepholes fringed about! How much more glowing everything was!

Oh, nothing in a house could compare with the world of light that Eepersip lived in!

Out here, the sunbeams made shadows wherever they struck; the birds twittered; the ripples lapped the shore caressingly. Otherwise all was still. But she was not thinking of the sea:

Here was a puzzler.

“Eepersip Eigleen,” she answered. “I mean,” she added doubtfully, “I was.”

“Who are you now, then?”

“Who are you now, then?”

“I haven’t any name now. I’m just somebody. Have you any name?”

“Do you live here in the woods?”

“Yes, it is.” With a little reluctance—“Will you play with me?”

Strange: here was Eepersip, who detested people, asking a little boy to play with her!

It was simply that she, not having seen any children for a long time, was fascinated by this small boy who seemed so unafraid of her and so natural.

The moonlight shone on the face of a child lying in a little wooden crib. She had fluffy black curls and bright, snapping black eyes, and she was watching delightedly the shadows of the branches on her wall and softly humming.

“Oh,” breathed Eepersip, “the little sister. I want her, I want her!”

Entranced, Eepersip watched, sitting in a crotch just outside the window—watched her as she lay there, tracing with her finger the curving patterns on her wallpaper; as she played her hands in the moonlight and the waving shadows on her wall.

She gazed long upon it, until, when her eyes became accustomed, she was able to make out the outline of a peak, going up sharp as a tooth, with bumps of smoother outline stretching away, away into the blue immensity of space on either side.

“Oh,” said Eepersip, “a dream! Oh, what a beautiful dream! But⁠—I feel so wide awake.”

She gazed and gazed, silent.

And, oh, the bright green foliage, shining in the dear golden light!

“Fairyland!” whispered Eepersip. “I loved the meadow, I loved the sea more, but even before I am really in the mountains, I love them the best of all.”

Then, after a pause, she added: “That snowfield of gold, these heavenly little flowers—oh, such beauty!”

The sun was pleased and smiled. I danced for him, and the bobolinks and skylarks greeted him with song.” There were tall flowers, too, pink silk beneath white tissue, with very dark and curious leaves up the stalks among the blossoms.

Butterflies were playing like sun rays, winging softly from flower to flower.

And as she went on she passed through forests of thick bushes and poisonous thorns, open pine-groves, and great pastures smelling of hay-scented ferns and budding steeple-bush.

And more sides opened, and more, the waits growing shorter in between, until, on a gust of mountain wind, the last of the mist went scudding away, banished, and the sun broke out into the blue sky.

The snow sparkled, the mountains sparkled, the lakes and rivers sparkled, the frost-feathers sparkled, the air itself sparkled.

And the mountains of the range that Eepersip was in, crowned with snow, gleamed like gold. Down on one side of the snowy peak dashed a great river, green and swirling, covered with clots of foam.

Others came in myriads and covered her dress with delicate wing-touches. Eepersip held out her arms a moment. A gold-and-black one alighted on each wrist. And then—she rose into the air, and, hovering an instant over a great laurel-bush, vanished.

She was a fairy⁠—a wood-nymph. She would be invisible forever to all mortals, save those few who have minds to believe, eyes to see.

To these she is ever present, the spirit of Nature—a sprite of the meadow, a naiad of lakes, a nymph of the woods.

She was a fairy—a wood-nymph. She would be invisible forever to all mortals, save those few who have minds to believe, eyes to see.

To these she is ever present, the spirit of Nature⁠—a sprite of the meadow, a naiad of lakes, a nymph of the woods.