“Just like it; and if you climbed up a mountain, after a day or two you got to the top; and if you sailed across the sea, if it was the greatest sea there ever was, you came to the other side in six months or so; so that it did not matter what you did, there was always an end to it.”
“Very stupid.”
“Very stupid, very; and he got tired of it always coming to the other side. He did so hate the other side, and he used to dawdle through the forests and lose his way, and he used to pull down the sails and let the ship go anyhow, and never touch the helm. But it was no use he always dawdled through the forest after awhile, and—”
“The wind always took the ship somewhere.”
“Yes, to the hateful other side, and he got so miserable and what to do he did not know, and he could not stop still very well—nobody can stop still—and that’s why people have got a way of spinning on their heels in some countries, I forget their names—”
“Dervishes?”
“Dervishes of course; well, he became a Dervish, and used to spin round and round furiously, but you know a top always runs down, and so he got to the other side again.”
“Stupid.”
“Awful stupid. Now tell me what else he did and could not help coming to the other side?” said Bevis.
“But it’s you who are telling the story.”