large/5152/brushwoodboy_1111_librivox_64kb_mp3/brushwoodboy_02_kipling_64kb_13
large/5152/brushwoodboy_1111_librivox_64kb_mp3/brushwoodboy_02_kipling_64kb
English
5152
There were months at a time when nothing notable crossed his sleep. Then the dreams would come in a batch of five or six, and next morning the map that he kept in his writing case would be written up to date, for Georgie was a most methodical person. THERE WERE MONTHS AT A TIME WHEN NOTHING NOTABLE CROSSED HIS SLEEP THEN THE DREAMS WOULD COME IN A BATCH OF FIVE OR SIX AND NEXT MORNING THE MAP HE KEPT IN HIS WRITING CASE WOULD BE WRITTEN UP TO DATE FOR GEORGIE WAS A MOST METHODICAL PERSON
re to suffer for this, either at the hands of the Railway People eating among the roses, or in the tropic uplands at the far end of the Thirty-Mile-Ride. Together, this did no much affright them; but often Georgie would hear her shrill cry of “Boy! Boy!” half a world away, and hurry to her rescue before “They” maltreated her. He and she explored the dark-purple downs as far inland from the brushwood-pile as they dared, but that was always a dangerous matter. The interior was filled with “Them,” and “They” went about singing in the hollows, and Georgie and she felt safer on or near the seaboard. So thoroughly had he come to know the place of his dreams that even waking he accepted it as a real country, and made a rough sketch of it. He kept his own counsel, of course; but the permanence of the land puzzled him. His ordinary dreams were as formless and as fleeting as any healthy dreams could be, but once at the brushwood-pile he moved within known limits and could see where he was going. MBLES LATER IN THE NIGHT THEY WERE SURE TO SUFFER FOR THIS EITHER THE HANDS OF THE RAILWAY PEOPLE EATING AMONG THE ROSES OR ILL TROPIC UPLANDS AT THE FAR END OF THE THIRTY MILE RIDE TOGETHER THIS DID NOT MUCH AFFRIGHT THEM BUT OFTEN GEORGIE WOULD HEAR HER SHRILL CRY OF BOY BOY HALF A WORLD AWAY AND HURRY TO HER RESCUE BEFORE THEY MALTREATED HER HE AND SHE EXPLORED THE DARK PURPLE DOWNS AS FAR INLAND FROM THE BRUSHWOOD PILE AS THEY DARED BUT THAT WAS ALWAYS A DANGEROUS MATTER THE INTERIOR WAS FILLED WITH THEM AND THEY WENT ABOUT SINGING IN THE HOLLOWS AND GEORGY AND SHE FELT SAFER ON OR NEAR THE SEABOARD SO THOROUGHLY HAD HE COME TO KNOW THE PLACE OF HIS DREAMS THAT EVEN WAKING HE ACCEPTED IT AS A REAL COUNTRY AND MADE A ROUGH SKETCH OF IT HE KEPT HIS OWN COUNSEL OF COURSE BUT THE PERMANENCE OF THE LAND PUZZLED HIM HIS ORDINARY DREAMS WERE AS FORMLESS AND AS FLEETING AS ANY ELDLY DREAMS COULD BE BUT ONCE AT THE BRUSHWOOD PILE HE MOVED WITHIN KNOWN LIMITS AND COULD SEE WHERE HE WAS GOING
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