|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Silverado Squatters by Robert Louis Stevenson: no, it was always wrong, and always wrong the same way. Yet
he seemed proud of his song, delivered it with execution and
a manner of his own, and was charming to his mate. A very
incorrect, incessant human whistler had thus a chance of
knowing how his own music pleased the world. Two great birds
- eagles, we thought - dwelt at the top of the canyon, among
the crags that were printed on the sky. Now and again, but
very rarely, they wheeled high over our heads in silence, or
with a distant, dying scream; and then, with a fresh impulse,
winged fleetly forward, dipped over a hilltop, and were gone.
They seemed solemn and ancient things, sailing the blue air:
|
