"It looks," Sir Richmond said, "as though some old
giantess had left a discarded set of teeth on the hillside." Far more
impressive than Stonehenge itself were the barrows that capped the
neighbouring crests.
The sacred stones were fenced about, and our visitors had to pay for
admission at a little kiosk by the gate. At the side of the road stood
a travel-stained middle-class automobile, with a miscellany of dusty
luggage, rugs and luncheon things therein--a family automobile with
father no doubt at the wheel. Sir Richmond left his own trim coupe at
its tail.
They were impeded at the entrance by a difference of opinion between the
keeper of the turnstile and a small but resolute boy of perhaps five or
six who proposed to leave the enclosure. The custodian thought that it
would be better if his nurse or his mother came out with him.
"She keeps on looking at it," said the small boy. "It isunt anything. I
want to go and clean the car."
"You won't SEE Stonehenge every day, young man," said the custodian, a
little piqued.
"It's only an old beach," said the small boy, with extreme conviction.
"It's rocks like the seaside. And there isunt no sea."
The man at the turnstile mutely consulted the doctor.
"I don't see that he can get into any harm here," the doctor advised,
and the small boy was released from archaeology.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131