George MacDonald The Princess and the Goblin: Complete djvu

One very wet day, when the mountain was covered with mist which was constantly gatheringitself together into raindrops, and pouring down on the roofs of the great old house, whence it fellin a fringe of water from the eaves all round about it, the princess could not of course go out. Shegot very tired, so tired that even her toys could no longer amuse her. You would wonder at that if Ihad time to describe to you one half of the toys she had. But then, you wouldn't have the toysthemselves, and that makes all the difference: you can't get tired of a thing before you have it. It wasa picture, though, worth seeing—the princess sitting in the nursery with the sky ceiling over herhead, at a great table covered with her toys. If the artist would like to draw this, I should advise himnot to meddle with the toys. I am afraid of attempting to describe them, and I think he had betternot try to draw them. He had better not. He can do a thousand things I can't, but I don't think hecould draw those toys. No man could better make the princess herself than he could, though—leaning with her back bowed into the back of the chair, her head hanging down, and her hands inher lap, very miserable as she would say herself, not even knowing what she would like, except itwere to go out and get thoroughly wet, and catch a particularly nice cold, and have to go to bed andtake gruel. The next moment after you see her sitting there, her nurse goes out of the room.Even that is a change, and the princess wakes up a little, and looks about her. Then she tumblesoff her chair and runs out of the door, not the same door the nurse went out of, but one whichopened at the foot of a curious old stair of worm-eaten oak, which looked as if never anyone had setfoot upon it. She had once before been up six steps, and that was sufficient reason, in such a day, fortrying to find out what was at the top of it.Up and up she ran—such a long way it seemed to her!—until she came to the top of the thirdflight. There she found the landing was the end of a long passage. Into this she ran. It was full ofdoors on each side. There were so many that she did not care to open any, but ran on to the end,where she turned into another passage, also full of doors. When she had turned twice more, and stillsaw doors and only doors about her, she began to get frightened. It was so silent! And all thosedoors must hide rooms with nobody in them! That was dreadful. Also the rain made a greattrampling noise on the roof. She turned and started at full speed, her little footsteps echoing throughthe sounds of the rain—back for the stairs and her safe nursery. So she thought, but she had lostherself long ago. It doesn't follow that she was lost, because she had lost herself, though.