“O! but you can put some of that in.”
“Well,” said Mark, “if you walk across this island, you come to the other side, or sail down the New Sea in the Pinta, or if you swim out to Serendib, or if you climb up the fir-tree to the cones—”
“Always the other side,” continued Bevis, “and so he said that this was such a little world he hated it, you could go all round the earth and come back to yourself and meet yourself in your own house at home in no time.”
“It’s not very big, is it?” said Mark. “Nothing is very big that you could go round like that.”
“No, and the quicker you get round the smaller it is, though it’s thousands and thousands of miles, so he said; and so he set out again to find a place where he could wander and never get to the other side, and after he had walked across Persia and Khorasan and Beloochistan—”
“And Afghanistan?”
“Yes, and crossed the Indus and Ganges, and been over the Himalayas, and inquired at every temple and of all the wise men who live in caves and hang themselves up with hooks stuck through their backs—”
“Fakirs.”
“At last a very old man took pity on him, seeing how miserable he was, and whispered to him where to go, and so he went on—”
“Where?”