"Are you going home to England? So am I. I'm Johnny; and I've never
been to England before, but I know all about it. There's great palaces
of gold and ivory--that's for the lords and bishops--and there's
Windsor Castle, the biggest of all, carved out of a single
diamond--that's for the queen. And she's the most beautiful lady in
the whole world, and feeds her peacocks and birds of paradise out of
a ruby cup. And there the sun is always shining, so that nobody wants
any candles. O, words would fail me if I endeavoured to convey to you
one-half of the splendours of that enchanted realm!"
This last sentence tumbled so oddly from the childish lips, that I
could not hide a smile as I looked down on my visitor. He stood just
outside my cabin-door--a small serious boy of about eight, with long
flaxen curls hardly dry from his morning bath. In the pauses of
conversation he rubbed his head with a big bath-towel. His legs
and feet were bare, and he wore only a little shirt and velveteen
breeches, with scarlet ribbons hanging untied at the knees.
"You're laughing!"