There was no room for Kis-Smee in the carriage, so we were obliged to chain him up on the roof, evidently much to his disgust.
I must confess to a certain feeling of uneasiness when, having taken our seats, the engine gave a snort, and puffing out a volume of dense black smoke and smuts, started us on our journey.
By reason of the odd shape of our wheels and the unevenness of the rails the carriage pitched and tossed about like a ship at sea, and our passage over a little wooden viaduct, where on either side the little blue people stood waving their adieux with quaint little flags, was, I am convinced, attended with considerable danger.
It was really a dreadful journey. The carriage pitched backward and forward, and rolled from side to side with every revolution of the wheels, while poor Kis-Smee, on the top, kept slipping about in the most painful manner. His Majesty’s carpet-bag, which had not been securely fastened to the top of the carriage, slipped off soon after we started, and though we rang the bell violently Mike refused to stop, and it was lost forever.
“Fortunately there was not much in it!” his Majesty gasped between the jerks which the irregular motion of the train occasioned. “Only a tooth-brush and small cake of soap.”
The carriage pitched backward and rolled from side to side.— [Page 138].
Wallypugland.