Have you never noticed it
before?'
Jimbo, of course, _had_ noticed it, his manner gave them to
understand, but had not thought it worth while mentioning until his
leader drew attention to it.
'Just as trains must have rails to run on,' he explained across
Cousinenry's intervening body to Monkey, 'or else there'd be accidents
and things all the time.'
'And night would be a horrid darkness like a plague in Egypt,' she
supposed, adroitly defending herself and helping her cousin at the
same time. 'Wouldn't it?' she added, as the shadows drew magically
nearer from the forest and made the fire gradually grow brighter. The
children snuggled closer to their cousin's comforting bulk, shivering
a little. The woods went whispering together. Night shook her velvet
skirts out.
'Yes, everything has its pattern,' he answered, 'from the skeleton of
a child or a universe to the outline of a thought. Even a dream must
have its scaffolding,' he added, feeling their shudder and leading it
towards fun and beauty. 'Insects, birds, and animals all make little
scaffoldings with their wee emotions, especially kittens and
butterflies. Engine-drivers too,' for he felt Jimbo's hand steal into
his own and go to sleep there, 'but particularly little beasties that
live in holes under stones and in fields.
Pages:
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344