Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
Oh, what a lovely owl!" Cried the Wart.But when he went up to it and held out his hand, the owl grew half as tall again, stood up as stiff as a poker, closed its eyes so that there was only the smallest slit to peep through - as you are in the habit of doing when told to shut your eyes at hide-and-seek - and said in a doubtful voice"There is no owl."Then it shut its eyes entirely and looked the other way."It is only a boy," said Merlyn."There is no boy," said the owl hopefully, without turning round.
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Oh, what a lovely owl!" Cried the Wart.But when he went up to it and held out his hand, the owl grew half as tall again, stood up as stiff as a poker, closed its eyes so that there was only the smallest slit to peep through - as you are in the habit of doing when told to shut your eyes at hide-and-seek - and said in a doubtful voice"There is no owl."Then it shut its eyes entirely and looked the other way."It is only a boy," said Merlyn."There is no boy," said the owl hopefully, without turning round.
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Just behind his jaw bones a tiny movement was perceptible, like the movement of gills in a fish.
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There are some young almond tress, which ordinarily look as if drawn by a childish hand. Now, as the wind sets their weak branches gibbering, they seem like shamanistic scratches on the white bone of the brittle bright night.