CHAPTER III 24
the word BOOK acted as a transient stimulus , and I begged her to fetch Gulliver ' s Travels from the library . This book I had again and again perused with delight . I considered it a narrative of facts , and discovered in it a vein of interest deeper than what I found in fairy tales : for as to the elves , having sought them in vain among foxglove leaves and bells , under mushrooms and beneath the ground-ivy mantling old wall-nooks , I had at length made up my mind to the sad truth , that they were all gone out of England to some savage country where the woods were wilder and thicker , and the population more scant ; whereas , Lilliput and Brobdignag being , in my creed , solid parts of the earth ' s surface , I doubted not that I might one day , by taking a long voyage , see with my own eyes the little fields , houses , and trees , the diminutive people , the tiny cows , sheep , and birds of the one realm ; and the corn-fields forest-high , the mighty mastiffs , the monster cats , the tower-like men and women , of the other . Yet , when this cherished volume was now placed in my hand -- when I turned over its leaves , and sought in its marvellous pictures the charm I had , till now , never failed to find -- all was eerie and dreary ; the giants were gaunt goblins , the pigmies malevolent and fearful imps , Gulliver a most desolate wanderer in most dread and dangerous regions . I closed the book , which I dared no longer peruse , and put it on the table , beside the untasted tart .
Bessie had now finished dusting and tidying the room , and having washed her hands , she opened a certain little drawer , full of splendid shreds of silk and satin , and began making a new bonnet for Georgiana ' s doll . Meantime she sang : her song was -
" In the days when we went gipsying , A long time ago ."
I had often heard the song before , and always with lively delight ; for Bessie had a sweet voice , -- at least , I thought so . But now , though her voice was still sweet , I found in its melody an indescribable sadness . Sometimes , preoccupied with her work , she sang the refrain very low , very lingeringly ; " A long time ago " came out like the saddest cadence of a funeral hymn . She passed into another ballad , this time a really doleful one .