CHAPTER XIII.
"I saw a ship sailing upon the sea Deeply laden as ship could be; But not so deep as in love I am For I care not whether I sink or swim." Old Ballad.
"But Love is such a Mystery I cannot find it out: For when I think I'm best resols'd, I then am in most doubt." SIR JOHN SUCKLING.
One story I will try to reproduce.

But, alas! it is like trying to reconstruct a forest out of broken branches and withered leaves.

In the fairy book, everything was just as it should be, though whether in words or something else, I cannot tell.

It glowed and flashed the thoughts upon the soul, with such a power that the medium disappeared from the consciousness, and it was occupied only with the things themselves.
My representation of it must resemble a translation from a rich and powerful language, capable of embodying the thoughts of a splendidly developed people, into the meagre and half-articulate speech of a savage tribe.

Of course, while I read it, I was Cosmo, and his history was mine.