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Updated: May 22, 2025
I'll tell you how it happened. A parcel of us young people were upon a merry swangean* round this arkoe, which we usually divert ourselves with at set times of the year, chasing and pursuing one another, sometimes soaring to an extravagant height, and then shooting down again with surprising precipitancy, till we even touch the trees; when of a sudden we mount again and away." * Flight.
"But," says I, "there is something so amazing in these flights, or swangeans, as you call them, that I must, as the questions for this day, beg you would let me know what is the method of them. What is the nature of your covering, which was at first such an obstacle to my wishes? How you put it on? And how you use it in your swangean?"
A fruit like an apple. "'Sir, says my sister, 'I think you are much to blame for these exclamations, after so long absence; for, if she be dead, what use are they of? and if she be not, all may be well, and you may still see her again. 'Oh, never, never! says my father; 'but could I be sure she was alive, I would take a swangean and never close my graundee till I found her, or dropt dead in the search. 'And suppose you could meet with her, sir, says I, 'the very sight would overcome you, and be dangerous. 'No, believe me, boy, says he, 'I should then be fully easy and composed; and were she to come in this moment, I should suffer no surprise, but pleasure. 'No surprise, sir? says I. 'Not if she were alive and well, says he.
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