...of a village

'How beautiful, how friendly it had grown in the darkening west. Good green pastures crept tenderly, gracefully, amiably beside me; all sorts of thoughts crept like fawning kittens at my heels. Many of these thoughts made me unexpectedly laugh quietly or aloud. Pleasant hopes, delightful, joyous prospects, dear, sweet little dreams accompanied me, sprang daintily after me on silent, golden feet, making me rich, light, carefree and confident. And how autumnally damp and soft the evening road was. Already a few patches of whitish fog descended in streaks and ghostly lines upon the adjacent meadows, which seemed to float, and here and there from the windows of the silent houses the lamps already shone. Dark human figures! And everything all around so deep, so primevally beautiful, so still, black, and soundless.'

[The Aunt, Walser, R.]

- submitted by Pearce, M A.