In a twinkling Billy stood at the gates of Mirage Town. Far beneath him he could see the burning hot desert, while through the gates he could see cool, airy houses, beautiful streets shaded by great trees and far beyond soft, green meadows and sparkling brooks.
"My goodness, but I'm thirsty," said Billy to himself. "I wish the gate keeper would hurry and let me in," and again and again he knocked, but seemingly with no result.
Finally when his throat was parched and his tongue dry with thirst, he could stand it no longer. He put his shoulder to the gates—open they swung, and Billy fell inside on his face. "Why, it was just like pushing clouds away," he exclaimed.
"But I'm in the sun here; I must cross to the other side."
So across the street he ran.
"Why this is strange, I was sure this was the shady side," he said in surprise. For when he got there the sun if anything was hotter than ever and the side he had left was cool, shady and inviting.
Billy shut his eyes. "I'm afraid this is sun-stroke," he said, "anyway I'll try again," and back he ran as hard as he could go. But when he got across it was the same thing as before.
"Come in and rest," called a voice from a house at his side; "you look hot and tired—come in and rest your face and hands."
"Thank you, I will," said Billy, gratefully, not noticing that the voice was just a wee bit derisive.
"This way," called the voice; "turn the knob and walk in—if you can."