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Unformatted text preview: very of it. "No, my son, you come with me." We had to go to the castle, high above the loch, which was our home. Down below, the water was covered with ice, but in the spring, said my father, the merchants would come by the hundreds, and so would the salmon fishermen, and the banks would be full of traders, and men would come to trade linen for the wool and skins and fish which we had to sell. This castle was a series of round towers, no more beautiful than the ominous heap of stone in which I'd been born. Once inside, I perceived it was less luxurious, but nevertheless filled with a bustling life. The great hall itself might have been a mountain cave, so crude were its adornments-its few grand arches, its staircase-but it was all deco- rated for a great banquet, and the fairies of the wood could not have created a scene of greater warmth or charm. The floor itself was entirely covered in green. And great garlands trimmed the sides of the stairway, and were placed above those arch...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10