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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

The
fact that it was so clearly audible showed how softly all these
passengers moved about their business.
The Guard, they noticed then, called out the names of some of them;
perhaps of all, only in the first excitement they did not catch them
properly. And each one went on at once towards the entrance of the
cave and disappeared in the pouring river of gold.
The light-footed way they moved, their swiftness as of shadows, the
way they tossed their heads and flung their arms about--all this made
the children think it was a dance. Monkey felt her own legs twitch to
join them, but her little brother's will restrained her.
'If you turn a somersault here,' he said solemnly, 'we're simply
lost.' He said it in French; the long word had not yet dawned upon his
English consciousness. They watched with growing wonder then, and
something like terror seized them as they saw a man go past them with
a very familiar look about him. He went in a cloud of sparkling, black
dust that turned instantly into shining gold when it reached the
yellow river from the stars. His face was very dirty.
'It's _not_ the _ramoneur_,' whispered Jimbo, uncertain whether the
shiver he felt was his sister's or his own. 'He's much too springy.'
Sweeps always had a limp.
For the figure shot along with a running, dancing leap as though he
moved on wires.


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