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"I suppose it would be just the same to us, if we were to visit New York," said Barbara. "Those bus-horses, which you admire, do look very fine at first, but the work is so hard on them, that they only last a very short time. Their days are about over now, for soon we shall have only the motor-buses." "Oh, what's this place?" cried John excitedly. "I am sure I have seen pictures of it!
If we are to have ash cans and engines and broken-down bus-horses thrust down our throats as art, Heaven preserve us. We had better turn to commonplace photography at once and be done with it.
It was not so much a day as a burning, fiery furnace. The roar of London's traffic reverberated under a sky of coppery blue; the pavements threw out waves of heat, thickened with the reek of restaurants and perfumery shops; and dust became cinders, and the wearing of flesh a weariness. Streams of sweat ran from the bellies of 'bus-horses when they halted.
They'd have mounted us on bus-horses if we hadn't brought our own; we'd have had to ring a bell to start and stop a squadron. Who wouldn't be light cavalry?" Kirby put the sealed letter in an inside pocket. "I'm going to sleep," said Brammle, yawning. "Night, sir!" "Night!" said Kirby; but Warrington stayed on.
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