s and a nose like a post, and Uncle
Samuel, who had, in harsh reality, two chins, seemed to be all folds and
creases like a balloon when it is shivering down into collapse. Jeremy
fought with these fantasies; the lines on the newspaper doubled and
redoubled, vanished and sprang to life again. He said: "I will not,"
and, instantly, his head on the soft part of his father's thigh, was
asleep.

III

In his dreams he was riding on a cloud all pink and gold, and behind
came a row of shining, white clouds fluffy like bales of wool wrapped
round lighted lanterns. His cloud rose and fell, rose and fell, and a
voice said in his ear: "All is well! All is well! You can go on
like this for ever. There will be jam-puffs soon, and ice-cream, and
fish-cakes, and you can go to China this way whenever you like."

And he said: "Can't I take Hamlet with me?"

And the voice answered: "Hamlet is with you already," and there, behold,
was Hamlet sitting on the pink cloud with a stiff gold collar round his
neck, wagging his tail. And then the voice shouted so loudly that
Jeremy jumped off the pink cloud in his astonishment: "Liskane! Liskane!
Liskane!" and Jeremy jumped and fell and fell--right into his father's
lap, with someone crying in his ear: "Wake up, Jeremy! We're there!
We're there!"

His first thought was for his green box, which was, he found, safely
and securely in his hand. Then for Hamlet, who was, he saw with horror,
already upon the platform, the lead trailing behind him like a neglected
conscience, his burning eyes piercing his hair in search of another dog,
whom he smelt but could not see.

Jeremy, rushing out of the train, seized the lead, scolded his recovered
property, who wore an expression of injured and abandoned innocence, and
looked about him. Yes, this was Liskane--wonderful, marvellous, magical
Liskane! To the bored and cynical adult Liskane may easily appear to
be one of the ugliest, most deserted stations in the whole of Europe,
having nothing on either side of it save barren grey fields that never
grow grass but only stones and bottles, with its single decoration--a
heavy iron bridge that crosses the rails and leads up to the higher
road and the town of Liskane. Ugly enough, but to Jeremy, on this summer
afternoon, the gate to a sure and certain Paradise.

Although his family were fussing around him, Barbara crying, Mr. Cole
saying: "Four, Five, Six... But where's the black box? Your black box,