the child babbles, rhythmically

The Child Babbles, Rhythmically

Once off the main road there was no traffic; any

modern introduction which has scarcely reached

a sheepdog came and wagged its tail, followed by

the wood, with a new thicket of fir and pine on one

smallest intention of going to university. I hate studying

apprenticeship, and got a job on the electrical plant at

the town along the narrow road by the river that was

quite enough to satisfy an archangel, and I'm sure I feel

as silent and withdrawn as this with anyone else, but

listening to the wind blowing over the hoarse, dark sea

had a trademark laugh—loud and honking, it easily rose above.