there was the huge tree asleep yet in the paling moonlight, and small and hopeful Sylvia began with utmost bravery to mount to the top of it, with tingling, eager blood coursing the channels of her whole frame, with her bare feet and fingers that pinched and held like bird's claws to the monstrous ladder reaching up, up, almost to the sky itself. First she must mount the 5 white oak tree that grew alongside, where she was almost lost among the dark branches and the green leaves heavy and wet with dew; a bird fluttered off its nest, and a red squirrel ran to and fro and scolded pettishly at the harmless housebreaker. Sylvia felt her way easily. She had often climbed there and knew that higher still one of the oak's upper branches chafed against the pine trunk, just where its lower boughs were set close together. There, when she made the dangerous 10 pass from one tree to the other, the great enterprise would really begin.
She crept out along the swaying oak limb at last and took the daring step across into the old pine tree. The way was harder than she thought; she must reach far and hold fast. The sharp dry twigs caught and held her and scratched her like angry talons; the pitch made her thin little fingers clumsy and stiff as she went round and round the tree's great stem, higher and higher 15 upward. The sparrows and robins in the woods below were beginning to wake and twitter to the dawn, yet it seemed much lighter there aloft in the pine tree, and the child knew that she must hurry if her project were to be of any use.
The tree seemed to lengthen itself out as she went up and to reach farther and farther
upward. It was like a great mainmast to the voyaging earth; it must truly have been amazed that 20 morning through all its ponderous frame as it felt this determined spark of human spirit creeping and climbing from higher branch to branch. Who knows how steadily the least twigs held themselves
to advantage this light, weak creature on her way! The old pine must have loved his new dependent. More than all the hawks and bats and moths and even the sweet-voiced thrushes was the brave, beating heart of the solitary gray-eyed child. And the tree stood still and held away the winds that 25 June morning while the dawn grew bright in the east.
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这个是中文的文章,那一段是关于这个英文的就可以了,把中国的copy出来就可以了