Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 2Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 2
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
So Tom went on and on, he hardly knew why; but he liked the great, wide,
strange place, and the cool, fresh, bracing air. But he went more and
more slowly as he got higher up the hill; for now the ground grew very
bad indeed. Instead of soft turf and springy heather, he met great
patches of flat limestone rock, just like ill-made pavements, with deep
cracks between the stones and ledges, filled with ferns; so he had to
hop from stone to stone, and now and then he slipped in between, and
hurt his little bare toes, though they were tolerably tough ones; but
still he would go on and up, he could not tell why.
What would Tom have said if he had seen, walking over the moor behind
him, the very same Irishwoman who had taken his part upon the road? But
whether it was that he looked too little behind him, or whether it was
that she kept out of sight behind the rocks and knolls, he never saw
her, though she saw him.
And now he began to get a little hungry, and very thirsty; for he had
run a long way, and the sun had risen high in heaven, and the rock was
as hot as an oven, and the air danced reels over it, as it does over a
limekiln, till everything round seemed quivering and melting in the
glare.
But he could see nothing to eat anywhere, and still less to drink.
So he went on and on, till his head spun round with the heat, and he
thought he heard church bells ringing, a long way off.
"Ah!" he thought, "where there is a church there will be houses and
people; and, perhaps, some one will give me a bit and a sup." So he set
off again, to look for the church; for he was sure that he heard the
bells quite plain.
And so it was; for from the top of the mountain he could see--what could
he not see?
And in a minute more, when he looked round, he stopped again, and said,
"Why, what a big place the world is!"
Behind him, far below, was Harthover, and the dark woods, and the
shining salmon river; and on his left, far below, was the town, and the
smoking chimneys of the collieries; and far, far away, the river widened
to the shining sea; and little white specks, which were ships, lay on
its bosom. Before him lay, spread out like a map, great plains, and
farms, and villages, amid dark knots of trees. They all seemed at his
very feet; but he had sense to see that they were long miles away.
[Illustration.]
And to his right rose moor after moor, hill after hill, till they faded
away, blue into blue sky. But between him and those moors, and really at
his very feet, lay something, to which, as soon as Tom saw it, he
determined to go; for that was the place for him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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