...
darting from his station on the trunk of an elm, lighted on
the edge of the cavity, devouring her with his great eyes, and
ready to swallow her down his great throat. There was only one place of refuge open for the trembling Piccoletta, and
that was the ball beside her, into which, in her desperate
strait, she was right glad to creep. But he was not
to be so easily baulked of his coveted morsel. He dipped his enormous red head into the pitfall, seized with his long bony
proboscis both the ball and its shaking occupant, rose with
them into air, and dropped them, by good luck for Piccoletta,
in the midst of her acquaintance.
(Acheta domestica, "Story of an Ogre".)
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario