The Magic Nuts

The way was long. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Little Leonore pressed her face against the window of the railway carriage and tried hard to see out. But it was no use. It all looked so dark and black, all the darker and blacker for the glimmer of the rain-drops trickling down thickly outside, and reflecting the feeble light of the lamp in the roof of the compartment. Leonore sighed deeply. She was very tired, more tired than she knew, for she did not feel sleepy, or as if she would give anythi...