And he come into the room, and I sez—
“Don’t run down a man’s country on a empty stumick, when it is as dark as pitch.”
And he sez, “Then I can’t run it at all.” His axent wuz pitiful.
And it wuz indeed a fearful time.
The winder presented a black, murky appearance, the gas wuz lit in the house and outside, and away from the light the streets wuz as dark as a black broadcloth pocket in a blind man’s over-coat.
We felt gloomy at the breakfast-table, but Martin sed we must be gittin’ round some. So we concluded to go to St. Paul’s Cathedral. So after awhile we ventered to sally out. We wuz about two hours a-goin’ a distance that ort to took us about fifteen minutes—a-movin’ on through the dense blackness, and not knowin’ what we wuz a-comin’ up aginst, or who, or when, or what.
It wuz a fearful time, very.
We went in two handsomes (though their handsomeness didn’t do us any good, for we couldn’t see a speck on’t). Josiah and I and Al Faizi went in one, and Martin and Alice and Adrian in the other. A strange and mysterious journey as I ever took, a-hearin’ anon or oftener a voice up on top of our vehicle a-shoutin’ out replies to the frenzied cries of cabmen on every side on him, and a not knowin’ who or what we wuz a-goin’ to run into, or be run in by. And the faint glow of the street lights a-shinin’ through the black mists like suns that wuz a-bein’ darkened, as the Skripters tell on.
It wuz a fearful seen; my Josiah wuz well-nigh prostrated by it, and sez he—
“If I ever git where the sun shines in the daytime agin, I’ll stay there.”