Trapped and imprisoned thus, I presently came wandering disconsolately
back to the hay-pile and lying there began to ponder upon the extreme
unlovely deportment of this strange creature whose almost every speech
and look and gesture outraged all my preconceived ideas of "the sex",
and bitterly to deplore my present situation.
Evening was falling apace but there was still sufficient light to show
me something of the place wherein I lay and the orderly disorder that
surrounded me. In one corner, upon a rough board that served for a
shelf, stood six battered volumes flanked by divers pots and pans;
against the wall near by hung a small, cracked mirror, while dangling
from nails driven into the warped and twisted timbering of roof and
walls hung a great variety of baskets, large and small and variously
shaped, of rush or bent withies, many of which seemed in course of
manufacture. These and many other objects I took casual heed of as I
lay, but often my gaze would rove back to the six books standing so
orderly amid the pots and pans; indeed, these so stirred my interest
that I began to wonder what manner of books these might be and what
should bring them in such a strange and desolate place, so that
despite my aches and pains I felt much disposed to rise and
investigate them, but in the end was content to lie and stare at them
while the light failed and shadows deepened until, my eyes little
serving me, I closed them and fell fast asleep.
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