...[Wart] felt a curious sensation at his ear. "Don't jump," said Merlyn, just as he was going to do so, and the Wart sat still. Archimedes, who had been standing forgotten on his shoulder all this time, was gently touching himself against him. His beak was right against the lobe of the ear, which its bristles made to tickle, and suddenly a soft hoarse little voice whispered, "How d'you do," so that it sounded right inside his head.
"Oh, owl!" cried the Wart, forgetting about Merlyn's troubles instantly. "Look, he has decided to talk to me!"
The Wart gently leaned his head against the soft feathers, and the brown owl, taking the rim of his ear in its beak, quickly nibbled right round it with the smallest nibbles.
"I shall call him Archie!" exclaimed the Wart.
"I trust you will do nothing of the sort," cried Merlyn instantly, in a stern and angry voice, and the owl withdrew to the farthest corner of his shoulder.
"Is it wrong?"
"You might as well call me Wol, or Olly," said the owl sourly, "and have done with it."
"Or Bubbles," added the owl in a bitter voice.
-T. H. White, The Sword in the Stone, 39-40.
Showing posts with label introduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label introduction. Show all posts
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
Winn-Dixie
“Come on, Winn-Dixie,” I said to the dog.
I started walking and he followed along behind me as I went out of the produce department and down the cereal aisle and past all the cashiers and out the door.
Once we were safe outside, I checked him over real careful and he didn’t look that good. He was big, but skinny: you could see his ribs. And there were bald patches all over him, places where he didn’t have any fur at all. Mostly, he looked like a big piece of old brown carpet that had been left out in the rain.
“You’re a mess,” I told him. “I bet you don’t belong to anybody.”
He smiled at me. He did that thing again, where he pulled back his lips and showed me his teeth. He smiled so big that it made him sneeze. It was like he was saying, “I know I’m a mess. Isn’t it funny?”
It’s hard not to immediately fall in love with a dog who has a good sense of humor.
“Come on,” I told him. “Let’s see what the preacher has to say about you.”
And the two of us, me and Winn-Dixie, started walking home.
-Katie DiCamillo, Because of Winn-Dixie
I started walking and he followed along behind me as I went out of the produce department and down the cereal aisle and past all the cashiers and out the door.
Once we were safe outside, I checked him over real careful and he didn’t look that good. He was big, but skinny: you could see his ribs. And there were bald patches all over him, places where he didn’t have any fur at all. Mostly, he looked like a big piece of old brown carpet that had been left out in the rain.
“You’re a mess,” I told him. “I bet you don’t belong to anybody.”
He smiled at me. He did that thing again, where he pulled back his lips and showed me his teeth. He smiled so big that it made him sneeze. It was like he was saying, “I know I’m a mess. Isn’t it funny?”
It’s hard not to immediately fall in love with a dog who has a good sense of humor.
“Come on,” I told him. “Let’s see what the preacher has to say about you.”
And the two of us, me and Winn-Dixie, started walking home.
-Katie DiCamillo, Because of Winn-Dixie
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