Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Spell Land: The Story of a Sussex Farm
But in the cast-house there Was no sunshine, and the Wind bellowed like a ram, swinging the cowl With moans, and agonizing the heart of a child Who had just crept in from the hay-barn. His teeth chattered, his knees knocked together, his palms and forehead Were damp, but he was man enough to conquer the coward impulse that fought to drag him back into the yard, Where the cows stood ready for milking, and the voices Of his brothers and their servants rang hoarsely reminiscent of every day.
To-day stood apart from that procession of momentous trivialities called Every Day. To-day Was abnormal enough to throw Every Day out of course, for To-day the World of dreams was to put on ?esh, and he should see his hero and his. Adversary face to face.
It Was now some months Since, Walking With Christian on Forgetful Green, he had met Apollyon straddling across the Way, and had forthwith made him his hero - or perhaps he Was not SO much a hero as an obsession, a pair of spectacles through Which the child Viewed life and saw all things new.
His glamour had rested chie?y on a dusty row of books, the unread apology for a library at Spell Land. His sister Dora, Who added daily to her labours by making him stand at her knee and spell out The cat is on the mat.
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