Mao raised himself upon the tips of his toes. “Ah, I wish I could see,” said he.
“Oh, it is easy enough,” replied Matelinn “you have only to climb up to the top of the mill, and you will be higher than I am.”
Mao approved of this advice, and climbed up the old ladder. When he reached the top, his cousin asked him what he saw?
“I see nothing but the trees, which seem as near the ground as wheat of two months’ growth,” said Mao, “and houses looking in the distance small as the sea-shells stranded on the shore.”
“Look nearer,” returned Matelinn.
“Nearer, I can only see the ocean, with its boats skimming the water like seagulls.”
“Look nearer yet,” said the soldier.
“Still nearer is the common, bright with rose-blossoms and the purple heath.”
“Look down beneath you.”
“Beneath me!” cried Mao, in terror. “Instead of the ladder to descend by, I see flames rushing upwards to devour me.”