They knew not where he borrowed
words and tune: "The world is young with laughter; we can fly....
Among the imprisoned hours as we choose.... The birds are singing....
Hark! Come out and play.... There is no hurry.... Life has just
begun...."
"Come on!" cried Tim. "Let's follow him; we're getting frightfully
warm!"
He seized Judy and his uncle by the hands and cleared the rivulet with
a running leap. The Tramp, however, preferred to wade across. "Get
into everything you can," he explained in mid-stream with a laugh. "It
keeps you in touch; it's all part of the looking."
He led them into the field where the blackbird still went on whistling
its heart out into the endless summer morning. But to them it seemed
that he led them out across the open world for ever and ever....
It grew very marvellous, this game of hide and seek. Sometimes they
forgot it was a game at all, forgot what they were looking for, forgot
that they were looking for anything or any one at all. Yet the mighty
search continued subconsciously, even when passing incidents drew
their attention from their chief desire. Always, at the back of
thought, lay this exquisite, sweet memory in their hearts, something
they half remembered, half forgot, but very dear, very marvellous.
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