Sybar's face was like a pale star, if one had seen it from the ground, when the last thomy beugh was past, and she stood trembling and tred but wholly trumphant, high in the tree-top
Sylvie could Isee the white sails of ships out at sea, and the clouds that were purple and rose-colored and yellow at first tregan to Tade away Where was the while heran's nest in the sea of green branches, and was this wonderful sight and pageant of the world the only reward for having climbed to such a giddy height Now look down again, Sylvia, where the green mash is set among the s where you saw the white herun once you will see him again, laek, look! a white spot of shining birches and dark hemlocks, there te spot of him like a single floating feather comes up from the dead hemlock and grows larger, and rises, and comes dese at last, and goes by the landmark pine with steady wern of wing and outstretched slender neck and crested head
The child gives a long sigh a minute later when a company of shouting cat bieds comes alsa ta the tree, and vesed by ther Futtering and lawlessness the solemn heron goes away. She knows his secret now the wild light, slender bed that floats and wavers, and goes back the an arrow presendy to his home in the green world beneath, Then Sybia well satisfind, makes her penlous way down agam, not daring to look far below the branch she stands on ready to cry sometimes because her fingers ache and her i to her, and what he Lamed feet slip. Wondering over and over again what the stranger. would think when she told him how to find his way straight to the heron's nest
The guest waked from a dream, and rememberingh this day's the way the shy little girl looked once or twice yesterday that she had grandmother and the spertoman stand in t is the the door tree by the green manh spleasure hurned to dress himself that might it sooner begin. He was sure from at least seen the white heron, and now she must really be made together and question her and the splendid moment has come ta to tell The speak of the dead hemlockSylvur's fate was the a parte star, if one halt soon it from the ground, when the last thorny bough was part and she stood trembling and tirest But wholly tungtung high in the tree-top
Sylvia could see the where salts of shipps ships out at sea and the clouds that were purple and rese-colored and yellow at first began to fade away Where was the white heron's nest in the sea of green branches, and was this wonderful sight and pugnand cimbed to where you such a giddy height Now look down again, Sylvia, where the green mash is is set among tof the world the only reward for having the shining birthes and dark hemlocks there saw the white heren once you will see him again, look, locks a white spot of him like a single floating feather comes up from the dead hemlock and grows farger, and rises, and comes close at last, and goes by the landmurs pine with steady sweep of wing and outstretched slender
neck and crested head. The child gives a long sigh a minute luter when a company of shouting cat binds comes also to the tree, and vered by their fluttering and Sawlessness the solemn heron goes away. She knows his secret now, the wild, light, slender bind that floats and wawers, and goes back like an arrow presently to his home in the green world beneath. Then Sylvia, well satisfied, makes her perilous way down again, not danng to look far below the branch she stands on, ready to cry sometimes because her ir fingers ache and her lamed feet slip. Wandering over and over again what the stranger would say to her, and what he would think when she told him how to find his way straight to the heron's nest.
The guest waked from a dream, and remembering day's pleasure humed to dress himself that might it sooner begin. He was sure from day's p the way the thy little girl looked once or twice yesterday that she had at least seen the white heron, and now she must really be made to tell The grandmother and the sportsman stand in the door together and question her, and the splendid mament has come to tree by the greatamanh
Sylvia's face was like a pale star, shining with triumph as she stood high in the tree-top, having conquered her fear and reached the heron's nest. The beauty of the world below her and the sight of the majestic heron flying away filled her with a sense of wonder and satisfaction.
As she made her way down from the tree, she couldn't help but think of the stranger she had seen earlier and how she would tell him of her adventure. The guest, now awake from his dream, eagerly dressed himself, excited to hear Sylvia's tale.
Standing with her grandmother and the sportsman, Sylvia felt a sense of pride as she recounted her journey to the heron's nest. The moment was truly splendid, and she couldn't wait to share it with the curious stranger who had unknowingly inspired her to reach such heights.
Bot GPT 3.5