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قراءة كتاب The Good Wolf
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
his rubber boots, and he went striding out into the snow like a stout little robin red breast.
He stamped across the road and stamped across the field to the edge of his beloved deep forest, because he wanted to see what things were doing, the things that build nests and the things that burrow and make little warm caves to live in.
And when he reached the very edge where the thick trees began— there he saw sitting up on its haunches and looking straight at him an Immense Wolf.
He gave a little jump and turned pale and was going to run away as fast as his rubber boots would carry him, when he suddenly stopped
because he could not help it. The Wolf was speaking to him.
"Do not be frightened," he said in a slow deep voice. "And do not run away. I am a Good Wolf."
Usually wolves don't talk, but this one did, and there were such peculiar things about him that Barty actually forgot to be frightened.
"How—how good are you?" he asked.
"I am this good," the Wolf said quite solemnly. "When I see a little boy who is a blessing and a privilege and never frets and says he has nothing to play with, and never wriggles when his
hair is brushed, I am his Best and most Intimate Friend. But—" and his nice voice became quite fierce and growly and he showed all his white teeth, "when I meet a boy who is a little pig and a torment and who makes life a burden when the tangles are taken out—I tear him from limb to limb!"
"I am glad I don't make life a burden," Barty said.
"So am I," answered the Good Wolf. "I prefer to be your Intimate Friend. Look at my ears."
He need not have said that, because Barty had been looking at
them all the time. He had thought them very queer at first because they were so very big and tall and pointed, and one was pink and one was blue. But they had been growing queerer and queerer every minute because they had been growing bigger and bigger and bigger right before Barty's eyes.
"Watch them," said the Good Wolf.
He shook the pink ear. Once he shook it—twice he shook it—three times he shook it. And out of it fell a beautiful red sled—exactly the kind Barty had dreamed about.
