He was always sitting at my little window, looking out into the church-yard; and I wondered whether his rambling thoughts ever went upon any of the fancies that used to occupy mine, on the rosy mornings when I peeped out of that same little window in my night clothes, and saw the sheep quietly feeding in the light of the rising son.
I think Davey hits some serious topics in this whole chapter, but of all of them this is one of my favorites. I love the way he describes himself here. I can perfectly picture the hound, rosy-checked Davey peeping out his window into a lush green churchyard with little fluffy sheep! I want to try to draw a picture of that! The book is SO descriptive!
Also, he’s wondering what the old man could be thinking about, and I think some of the things Davey thought about would be the same with the man. Old people and young people are similar that way.
Oh and Daisy: CUTEST NICKNAME SINCE DAVEY!!!!!!!!!!!