selfishness of a mean and crafty man——the selfishness of an ambitious and silly woman——the selfishness of a spiteful and loveless child——all tend one way, from bad to worse! And you, my darlings, must suffer it awhile, I fear. Yet, when things are at their worst, you can come to me. I can do but little as yet——"
Gathering up a handful of dust and scattering it in the air, he slowly and solemnly pronounced some words that sounded like a charm, the children looking on in awe-struck silence:——
"Let crafty ambition, spite,
Be quenched in Reasons nighty
Till weakness turn to mighty
Till what is dark be lights
Till what is wrong be right!"
The cloud of dust spread itself out through the air, as if it were alive, forming curious shapes that were for ever changing into others.
"It makes letters! It makes words!" Bruno whispered, as he clung, half-frightened, to Sylvle. "Only I ca'n't make them out! Read them, Sylvie!"
