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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

I can get plenty now.
Indeed, to tell the truth--though it's a secret between ourselves,
remember--that's the real reason I've come out here. I want to get a
fresh supply to take back to London with me. One needs a fearful lot
in London----'
'But there's no sun in London to melt it,' objected Monkey instantly.
'There's fog though, and it gets lost in fog like ink in blotting-
paper. There's never enough to go round. I've got to collect an awful
lot before I go back.'
'That'll take more than a week,' she said triumphantly.
They fastened themselves closer against him, like limpets on a rock.
'I told you there was lots to do here,' whispered Monkey again.
'You'll never get it done in a week.'
'And how will you take it back?' asked Jimbo in the same breath. The
answer went straight to the boy's heart.
'In a train, of course. I've got an express train here on purpose----'
'The "Rapide"?' he interrupted, his blue eyes starting like flowers
from the earth.
'Quicker far than that. I've got----'
They stared so hard and so expectantly, it was almost like an
interruption. The bird paused in its rushing song to listen too.
'----a Starlight Express,' he finished, caught now in the full tide of
fairyland. 'It came here several nights ago. It's being loaded up as
full as ever it can carry.


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