Excerpt from Lorna Doone, Vol. 2 of 3: A Romance of Exmoor Ah, I knew my strength right well. Hill and valley scarcely seemed to be step and landing for me fiercest cattle I would play with, making them go back ward, and afraid of hurting them, like John Fry with his terrier; even rooted trees seemed to me but as sticks I could smite down, except for my love of every thing. The love of all things was upon me, and a softness to them all, and a sense of having something even such as they had. Then the golden harvest came, waving on the broad hill-side, and nestling in the quiet nooks scooped from out the fringe of wood. A wealth of harvest such as never gladdened all our country-side, since my father ceased to reap, and his sickle hung to rust. There had not been a man on Exmoor fit to work that reap ing-hook, since the time its owner fell, In the prime of life and strength, before a sterner reaper. But now I took it from the wall, where mother proudly stored it; while she watched me, hardly knowing whether she should smile or cry. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.