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In this part of the book, and subsequently in the Prologues to the stories, it has been my object to give the reader one more glimpse at that artist-life which circumstances have afforded me peculiar opportunities of studying, and which I have already tried to represent, under another aspect, in my fiction, "Hide-and-Seek."
It was highly embarrassing; they were right in the path, a round dozen of them, naked and so little ashamed that when I edged away modestly they began to run after me. And the farther they came forward the more I retired, till we were playing a kind of game of hide-and-seek round the tree-stems.
Very curious and interesting was the behaviour of these people among themselves. It was an eternal game of chivy or hide-and-seek, each person being by turn the hunter and the hunted. Mrs. Downey tried to talk to the birds of passage; but the birds of passage would talk to nobody but each other. Miss Bramble took not the slightest notice of Mr. Partridge. Mr.
In the morning Misery wakes as usual, and cries out to be taken to the tavern. "We've sold everything I've got," says the merchant. "Well, what are you going to do to amuse me?" says Misery. "Let's play hide-and-seek in the yard," says the merchant. "Right," says Misery; "but you'll never find me, for I can make myself so small I can hide in a mouse-hole in the floor."
The rich, fresh tones which seemed occasionally to tremble with the excess of melody that burdened them played hide-and-seek among the hills, startling whole choruses of deep-throated echoes, and attending and retentive ocean, catching the strains on her beryl strings, bore them whither and how far?
In London Shelley and Mary lived in great straits, abandoned by almost all their acquaintances, and playing hide-and-seek with creditors. But in January 1815 Sir Bysshe Shelley died, and Percy's money affairs improved greatly. Shelley and Mary next settled at Bishopgate, near Windsor Forest.
It was a wonderful game of hide-and-seek that Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was playing in the dusk of early evening. Whitefoot was "it" all the time. That is, he was the one who had to do all the hunting. Just who he was hunting for he didn't know. He knew it was another Wood Mouse, but it was a stranger, and do what he would, he couldn't get so much as a glimpse of this little stranger.
They had also a game of hide-and-seek, with the addition that those who hid tried to escape those who sought, and ran to a given post or mark. All who reached the post were counted towards making up the game. Pitching small cocoa-nut shells to the end of a mat was a favourite amusement of the chiefs. They tried to knock each other's shells off the given spot.
I was thinkin' we could ketch Passon True about ten o'clock better'n we could in the arternoon." The Old Ladies' Home, much to the sorrow of its inmates, "set back from the road." A long, box-bordered walk led from the great door down to the old turnpike, and thickly bowering lilac-bushes forced the eye to play an unsatisfied hide-and-seek with the view.
Heady snatched off his mask and threw the ball to second with all the speed and correctness he was master of; but the throw went just so far to the right that Tug, leaning far out, could not recover himself in time to touch the runner. These two now began to play a game of hide-and-seek about second base, much to Reddy's discomfort.
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