"I wish it _was_ my chest, father."
"Your turn will come in good time enough! Make haste. I _must_ go to
the
meeting at the palace to-night. When that's over, we can come back
and
clear out the last of the things before our enemies return in the
morning. Now light your torches, and come along. What a distinction
it
is to provide our own light, instead of being dependent on a thing
hung
up in the air--a most disagreeable contrivance--intended no doubt to
blind us when we venture out under its baleful influence! Quite glaring
and vulgar, I call it, though no doubt useful to poor creatures who
haven't the wit to make light for themselves!"
Curdie could hardly keep himself from calling through to know
whether
they made the fire to light their torches by. But a moment's reflection
showed him that they would have said they did, inasmuch as they
struck
two stones together, and the fire came.
Madhuri Noah
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