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

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With the feeling of terror, to the older ones, comes back, in the twinkling of an eye, thoughts of Him to whom they have been taught “the darkness and the light are both alike.” Half unconsciously, little prayers linger on their lips, thoughts of dear Mamma, with resolves to be more “kindly affectioned,” and then they come out again into the welcome light, and as the heavy weight of fear is lifted from their childish hearts, their spirits rise with every advancing mile, till their merry peals and funny speeches call forth smiles from many travellers in the car without.

Still on they go, with the ceaseless jarring and unearthly whistle’s shriek, through towns and villages, woods and meadows; now journeying side by side with the blue waters of the Sound, with its grateful breezes, its tiny craft and pebbly shore; now hiding behind some hill or grove to come springing upon the smiling water-view again.

Little eyes are growing weary of sight-seeing. To little ears the cries of conductors, pop-corn and prize-package venders have lost their freshness; the sun seems suddenly to grow very hot. The cage seems very narrow. Artie is crowding Daisy, and Bear “thinks the Monkies might stop their chatter, for his head aches.” Suddenly a cool, fresh sea-breeze blows through the heated car,—a loud bell peals, a heavy jolt shakes the train, and Jack screams—