"He has miles of books," Jerry-Jo went on, "and a fiddle and pictures and
gewgaws. He plays devil tunes, and he's bewitched!"
This description made the vague boy of the woods real and vital for the
first time in Priscilla's life, and she shuddered. Then Jerry-Jo
generously offered to lend her one of the books until his father came
back, and Priscilla eagerly stepped from stone to stone until she could
reach the volume. Once she had obtained the prize she went back to the
garden and made herself comfortable, wholly forgetting Jerry-Jo and the
world at large.
It was the oddest book she had ever seen. The words were arranged in
charming little rows, and when you read them over and over they sang
themselves into your very heart. They told you, lilting along, of a road
that no one but you ever knew--a road that led in and out through wonders
of beauty and faded at the day's end into your heart's desire. Your
Heart's Desire!
And just then Jerry-Jo cried:
"Hey, there! you, Priscilla, come down with that book."
"Your Heart's Desire!" Priscilla's eyes were misty as she repeated the
words.
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