The next remarkable object was a large edifice, constructed of
moss-grown stone, but in a modern and airy style of architecture.
The engine came to a pause in its vicinity with the usual tremendous
shriek.
"This was formerly the castle of the redoubted giant Despair,"
observed Mr. Smooth-it-away; "but, since his death, Mr. Flimsy-faith
has repaired it, and now keeps an excellent house of entertainment
here. It is one of our stopping-places."
"It seems but slightly put together," remarked I, looking at the
frail, yet ponderous walls. "I do not envy Mr. Flimsy-faith his
habitation. Some day it will thunder down upon the heads of the
occupants."
"We shall escape, at all events," said Mr. Smooth-it-away, "for
Apollyon is putting on the steam again."
The road now plunged into a gorge of the Delectable Mountains,
and traversed the field where, in former ages, the blind men
wandered and stumbled among the tombs. One of these ancient
tomb-stones had been thrust across the track, by some malicious
person, and gave the train of cars a terrible jolt. Far up the
rugged side of a mountain, I perceived a rusty iron door, half
overgrown with bushes and creeping plants, but with smoke issuing from
its crevices.
"Is that," inquired I, "the very door in the hill-side, which the
shepherds assured Christian was a by-way to Hell?"
"That was a joke on the part of the shepherds," said Mr.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29