I took a liking to the shop of a
bookseller, whose name was Bouchard, which was frequented by some
men of letters, and as the spring (whose return I had never expected
to see again) was approaching, furnished myself with some books for
Charmettes, in case I should have the happiness to return there.
I had that happiness, and enjoyed it to the utmost extent. The
rapture with which I saw the trees put out their first bud, is
inexpressible! The return of spring seemed to me like rising from
the grave into paradise. The snow was hardly off the ground when we
left our dungeon and returned to Charmettes, to enjoy the first
warblings of the nightingale. I now thought no more of dying, and it
is really singular, that from this time I never experienced any
dangerous illness in the country. I have suffered greatly, but never
kept my bed, and have often said to those about me, on finding
myself worse than ordinary, "Should you see me at the point of
death, carry me under the shade of an oak, and I promise you I shall
recover."
Though weak, I resumed my country occupations, as far as my strength
would permit, and conceived a real grief at not being able to manage
our garden without help; for I could not take five or six strokes with
the spade without being out of breath and overcome with
perspiration: when I stooped the beating redoubled, and the blood flew
with such violence to my head, that I was instantly obliged to stand
upright. Being therefore confined to less fatiguing employments, I
busied myself about the dove-house, and was so pleased with it, that I
sometimes passed several hours there without feeling a moment's
weariness.
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