IF one thought anything of omens (which I do not in general, though I confess I would rather not see the new moon through glass) I might think it a bad one that my first distinct recollection is of a fall. It happened in this wise: I was sitting on the edge of the great fountain basin, eating a bit of spice cake, and watching some vernons—so they call the little wild canaries in that part of the world—which were flying in and out of the great ivy on the north wall, where I suppose they had young ones. In my interest in the birds, I forgot that my perch was both narrow and slippery. I leaned backward, the better to obtain a view of the bird's nest, which I could but just see, and so doing I l…
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.