They then went into this wood without a centre, without a middle, without a heart. Into this heartless wood they moved stealthily, Uncle Felix singing under his breath to keep his courage up:
“A wood is a mysterious place,
It never looks you in the face,
But stares behind you all the time.
Your safest plan is just to—climb!
For, otherwise you lose your way,
The week, the month, the time of day;
It turns you round, it makes you blind,
And in the end you lose your mind!
Avoid the centre,
If you enter!”
Tim listened without a sign of interest. Every one had his peculiarity, he supposed, and, provided his companion did not dance as well as sing, it was all right… A wood was a mysterious place!
“Is that all?” he asked—but whether he was glad or sorry, no man could possibly have told.
THE EXTRA DAY p. 141 – 155