{"id":"01KG8AKRNTGZAPN7MF14JS0QNE","cid":"bafkreig3gprakni7xd3qnfgson7plcoyb4eh7xzogaeprmxirxsc5lnioy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":270,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":207,"text":"am sure my own eyes must have magnified as I stared. When church was\r\nout, I wanted my aunt to take me along and follow the traveler home.\r\nBut she said the constables would take us up, if we did; and so I never\r\nsaw this wonderful Arabian traveler again. But he long haunted me; and\r\nseveral times I dreamt of him, and thought his great eyes were grown\r\nstill larger and rounder; and once I had a vision of the date tree.\r\n\r\nIn course of time, my thoughts became more and more prone to dwell upon\r\nforeign things; and in a thousand ways I sought to gratify my tastes.\r\nWe had several pieces of furniture in the house, which had been brought\r\nfrom Europe. These I examined again and again, wondering where the wood\r\ngrew; whether the workmen who made them still survived, and what they\r\ncould be doing with themselves now.\r\n\r\nThen we had several oil-paintings and rare old engravings of my\r\nfather’s, which he himself had bought in Paris, hanging up in the\r\ndining-room.\r\n\r\nTwo of these were sea-pieces. One represented a fat-looking, smoky\r\nfishing-boat, with three whiskerandoes in red caps, and their browsers\r\nlegs rolled up, hauling in a seine. There was high French-like land in\r\none corner, and a tumble-down gray lighthouse surmounting it. The waves\r\nwere toasted brown, and the whole picture looked mellow and old. I used\r\nto think a piece of it might taste good.\r\n\r\nThe other represented three old-fashioned French men-of-war with high\r\ncastles, like pagodas, on the bow and stern, such as you see in\r\nFroissart; and snug little turrets on top of the mast, full of little\r\nmen, with something undefinable in their hands. All three were sailing\r\nthrough a bright-blue sea, blue as Sicily skies; and they were leaning\r\nover on their sides at a fearful angle; and they must have been going\r\nvery fast, for the white spray was about the bows like a snow-storm.\r\n\r\nThen, we had two large green French portfolios of colored prints, more\r\nthan I could lift at that age. Every Saturday my brothers and sisters\r\nused to get them out of the corner where they were kept, and spreading\r\nthem on the floor, gaze at them with never-failing delight.\r\n\r\nThey were of all sorts. Some were pictures of Versailles, its\r\nmasquerades, its drawing-rooms, its fountains, and courts, and gardens,\r\nwith long lines of thick foliage cut into fantastic doors and windows,\r\nand towers and pinnacles. Others were rural scenes, full of fine skies,\r\npensive cows standing up to the knees in water, and shepherd-boys and\r\ncottages in the distance, half concealed in vineyards and vines.\r\n\r\nAnd others were pictures of natural history, representing rhinoceroses\r\nand elephants and spotted tigers; and above all there was a picture of\r\na great whale, as big as a ship, stuck full of harpoons, and three\r\nboats sailing after it as fast as they could fly.\r\n\r\nThen, too, we had a large library-case, that stood in the hall; an old\r\nbrown library-case, tall as a small house; it had a sort of basement,\r\nwith large doors, and a lock and key; and higher up, there were glass\r\ndoors, through which might be seen long rows of old books, that had\r\nbeen printed in Paris, and London, and Leipsic. There was a fine\r\nlibrary edition of the Spectator, in six large volumes with gilded\r\nbacks; and many a time I gazed at the word _“London”_ on the\r\ntitle-page. And there was a copy of D’Alembert in French, and I\r\nwondered what a great man I would be, if by foreign travel I should\r\never be able to read straight along without stopping, out of that book,\r\nwhich now was a riddle to every one in the house but my father, whom I\r\nso much liked to hear talk French, as he sometimes did to a servant we\r\nhad.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJNGCKYBSPHFM2K2S5VD3","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRNK1ZNKV9ZG52Y4TM2S","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRP54ANN5ETA3GVTJG7V","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.034Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:23.469Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}