Flower Fables

Louisa May Alcott

Capitolo 59

in the depth, cold sea.  But he saw only terrible monsters and the dark
forms that have gathered round off him; and, trembling with fear, he fought
on new.

The great waves launched him/it before and back, and it threw him/it it hurt and it faints
on the beach.  Here he placed bitterly weeping, cultivates a voice close to him
small said Elf, "Poor, what has happened you?  These raw waves are
companions of game not to be all right for so delicate a thing as You.  Tell me Your
you are distressed, and I will comfort her."

And Thistle, looking on the saw a white sea-bird to his/her side that tried
with friendly words to console him/it.  Then he said all of his/her vagabondages,
and as he looked for the Maritime Spirits.

"Certainly, if bee and flower make their part to help her/it, birds they owe
Also help him", says the Sea-bird.  "I will call my friend the,
Nautilus, and he will bear her in safe to the Coral Building where the
Spirits indulge."

Then, spreading his/her great wings, he flew away, and soon saw of Thistle
a small come boat dancing on the waves, and it waits close to the beach
for him.

In him it jumped.  Nautilus raised his/her small sail to the wind and the
light boat quickly slipped on the blue sea.  Thistle finally cried,
"I see far the good-looking arcs under;  allow me to go, it is at the home of the Spirits."

"No, closes Your eyes, and has trust to me.  I will bear down her in safe,"
Said Nautilus.

Then Thistle him closed the eyes, and he/she listened to the murmur of the sea,
as they slowly sank through the waves.  The soft sound cradled him/it
to sleep, and when him he woke up the boat you/he/she had gone, and he was standing among
the Spirits of Water, in their strange and beautiful house.

Tall arcs of snow-white tendency of coral above of the walls and he
of hulls brightly dyed you/he/she was garlanded with the beautiful sea-flowers, and
the light of the sun that shines on the waves threw silvery shades on the earth,
where sparkling stones burned in the sand.  A fresh wind, fresh it swept
through the undulant garlands of bright sea-musk and the distant murmur
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