Carroll, Lewis, 1832-1898 -- Parodies, imitations, etc.; Fantasy fiction
OY was far too excited to go to sleep, so he lay gazing at the crescent
Moon which shone through the window opposite his bed and thought of all
the wonderful things which had happened on this most eventful of days.
To begin quite at the beginning, he had, in his thoughts, to go right
back to yesterday, when he had been sent to bed in the middle of
the day, so that he might be rested for his long night journey to
Scarborough with his Uncle. Then after having been asleep all the
afternoon, he had been awakened in the evening just about the time when
he usually went to bed, and, treat of treats, had been allowed to sit up
to the table to late dinner with his Aunt and Uncle.
Soon after dinner they had started for their long drive to the Station
through the brightly lighted streets which Boy had never before seen at
night time, and when at last King’s Cross Station was reached, they
had been hurried into a carriage with rugs and pillows and were soon
steaming through the suburbs of London.
Boy had found plenty of amusement in watching the flashing lights out
of the window till, as the train got further and further away from the
town, the lights became fewer and fewer, and he drew the curtain and
settled himself comfortably in a corner with a pillow and a rug.
His Uncle was deeply buried in his paper, and Boy did not like to
disturb him, so he picked up _Punch_, which had fallen to the floor,
and began to look at the pictures. He must have fallen asleep soon
afterwards, for he did not remember anything else till they reached
York, where they had to change trains, and where they had hot coffee and
sandwiches. Then when the train started again Boy’s Uncle had pointed
out to him the square towers of York Minster showing clearly against
the green and gold sky of early morning; and then Boy had gone to
sleep again and did not wake up till they reached Scarborough, where
a carriage was waiting to take them to the Hotel. Boy looked about him
with great interest as they drove through the half-deserted streets, for
it was still very early in the morning. He could see the ruins of an
old castle at the end of the street, and as they turned a corner the sea
flashing in the morning sunlight burst into view.
Boy thought that he had never before seen anything so beautiful. There
was the great bay with the castle at one end and Oliver’s Mount at the
other, the quay and the little lighthouse, and a lot of ships, while out
at sea was a whole fleet of brown sailed fishing-smacks coming in with
their spoil of fish. Hundreds of sea-gulls were wheeling round and
round uttering their peculiarly shrill cry, and altogether it was a most
beautiful sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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