Читать книгу The Haven Children; or, Frolics at the Funny Old House on Funny Street онлайн

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“Good-bye, Mister Story Teller.”

Barnum’s animals, in their cages, passing through a city’s crowded streets, are remarkably quiet and well-behaved, but many an inhabitant of the good city looked up, that night, as a large, old-fashioned family carriage and two bay horses, driven by the blackest of coachmen, displaying, in a very pleased and harmless way, the whitest of teeth, bearing the noisy little Madison Avenue Menagerie, rattled over the curb-stones of Exchange Place, right under the shadow of the Soldiers’ monument, through Westminster street, in its fearful narrowness, and over the Great Bridge. The carriage halted here a moment that the little animals might catch a breath of the fresh sea air coming up from the bay, through the little river which forms the lungs of Providence, and gives this beautiful city its Venetian aspect.

With mingled feelings of enjoyment and terror, the young folk see themselves ascending the steep hill-side, and are nothing loath to find the carriage halting before a quaint, old house, whose every window sends out a stream of light to welcome them.