I stood, a wretched child enough, whispering to myself over and over again, What shall I do what shall I do

I covered my head and arms with the skirt of my frock, and went out to walk in a part of the plantation which was quite sequestrated; but I found no pleasure in the silent trees, the falling fircones, the congealed relics of autumn, russet leaves, swept by past winds in heaps, and now stiffened together.