There little thoughts began to fall rustle, rustle, and many a mysterious beauty fell into my mind. I was suddenly confused. My little mind could hardly bear the excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf in a confused way. The leaves were brown and curved, like a boat carrying a dream, and there were two beautiful parasol seeds on the side of the boat. Every gust of wind I shuttle in the fallen leaves of the rain, picked up a wutong son. Must a sycamore or two, which I did not pick up, have ...