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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

He, too, remembered phrases here and
there. 'I'm a bit knotted, looped, and all up-jumbled too, inside. But
the sun is miles away still. We're both soft-shiny still.'
They stooped to enter, plunging their bodies to the neck in the silent
flood of sparkling amber.
Then happened a strange thing. For how could they know, these two
adventurous, dreaming children, that Thought makes images which,
regardless of space, may flash about the world, and reach minds
anywhere that are sweetly tuned to their acceptance?
'What's that? Look out! _Gare!_ Hold tight!' In his sudden excitement
Jimbo mixed questions with commands. He had caught her by the hand.
There was a new sound in the heavens above them--a roaring, rushing
sound. Like the thunder of a train, it swept headlong through the sky.
Voices were audible too.
'There's something enormous caught in the star-net,' he whispered.
'It's Mother, then,' said Monkey.
They both looked up, trembling with anticipation. They saw a big, dark
body like a thundercloud hovering above their heads. It had a line of
brilliant eyes. From one end issued a column of white smoke. It
settled slowly downwards, moving softly yet with a great air of bustle
and importance. Was this the arrival of a dragon, or Mother coming
after them? The blood thumped in their ears, their hands felt icy.


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