"Very large—immensely large—so wide that you might look all day, and not have done looking—is it not?"
"There is only a piece to be seen from here—like the bit you cut off with your teeth when you put a slice of bread in your mouth."
"Yes, yes—I understand. Every one says there is nothing in the world so beautiful as the sea, because it is so grandly simple.—Listen, Nela, to what I am going to say—but what are you doing?" Nela had grasped a bough of the tree with both hands, and was swinging by it lightly and gracefully.
"Here I am, Señorito mio. I was wondering why God should not give us human creatures wings to fly like birds. How delightful it would be just to give a flap and a whisk, and up we should go, and in one flight we should be at the top of that peak between Ficóbriga and the sea."
"But though God has not given us wings he has given us thought instead, which flies faster than any bird, since it can fly up to God himself.—Tell me, child, of what good would wings be to me, if God had denied me the gift of thought?"
"But I should like to have both. And if I had wings I would pick you up in my little beak to take you out of this world, and carry you up ever so much higher than the clouds." The blind lad put out his hand to stroke Nela's hair.
"Sit down by me; are you not tired?"
"Just a little," she said, sitting down and laying her head with childlike confidence on her master's shoulder.
"You are breathing fast, Nelilla, you are very tired; it is with trying to fly.—Well, what I want to say to you is this: Talking of the sea put me in mind of a thing my father read to me last night. You know that ever since I was old enough, my father has been in the habit of reading to me every evening different books of science, or history, or art, or mere amusement. I might say that these readings make up all I know of life. The Lord, to compensate me for being blind, has given me a very good memory, and it has turned these readings to good account; for though there has been no regular method in them, I have contrived to put some order into the ideas that have penetrated to my understanding. How I have enjoyed listening and learning about the admirable laws and order of the universe, the harmonious circling of the stars, the motion of atoms, and above all, those grand principles which govern our souls and minds. I have enjoyed history too, which is a true account of all the things men have done in former times; for though, my child, they have always done the same wicked and foolish things, they have nevertheless gone on improving, some of them doing their utmost—but without ever succeeding—to attain that perfection which belongs to God alone. And finally, my father has read me some deeper and more mysterious things that cannot be understood at once, but when they are thought over and considered they occupy and charm the mind. He does not enjoy that sort of reading very much, as he does not altogether follow it, and it has tired me sometimes, while at other times it has delighted me. And there is no doubt that when you have an author who explains himself clearly, such subjects are very interesting. They deal with cause and effect, the rationale of all we think, and how we think, and teach us about the essential nature of things."
Nela did not seem to understand a single word of what her friend was saying, but she listened attentively with her mouth wide open; to inhale, if possible, the essences and causes of which her master was discoursing, opening her beak like a bird watching the movements of a fly he wants to catch.