Meta Book

On this Sunday afternoon his face shone with happiness. He closed
the book on his knee, keeping the place with his horny finger, and
repeated softly:--
He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills;
They give drink to every beast of the field; the wild asses quench
their thirst.
The trees of the Lord are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon which
he hath planted;
Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees
are her house.
The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for
the conies.
Before he opened his Bible again, Ivar heard the Bergsons' wagon
approaching, and he sprang up and ran toward it.
"No guns, no guns!" he shouted, waving his arms distractedly.
"No, Ivar, no guns," Alexandra called reassuringly.
He dropped his arms and went up to the wagon, smiling amiably and
looking at them out of his pale blue eyes.
"We want to buy a hammock, if you have one," Alexandra explained,
"and my little brother, here, wants to see your big pond, where so
many birds come.


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