3.无烟的沙漠
So I lived my life alone, without anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago. Something was broken in my engine.
And as I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone. It was a question of life or death for me: I had scarcely enough drinking water to last a week.
The first night, then, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation. I was more isolated than a shipwrecked sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean.
Thus you can imagine my amazement, at sunrise, when I was awakened by an odd little voice. It said:" If you please– draw me a sheep! ”
What! Draw me a sheep!
I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me.
And I saw a most extraordinary small person, who stood there examining me with great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him.
But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model. That, however, is not my fault.
The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter’s career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside.
Now I stared at this sudden apparition with my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment.
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