I tell you, madam, that box-seat was a queer box for me.  I felt as though I was sitting on the eaves of a roof with a herd of horses cavoorting under my feet.  I never had a bird’s-eye view of horses before.  Looking down on their squirming bodies, with the coachman almost standing on his tiptoes driving them, was so different from Jone’s buggy and our tall gray horse, which in general we look up to, that for a good while I paid no attention to anything but the danger of falling out on top of them.  But having made sure that Jone was holding on to my dress from behind, I began to take an interest in the things around me.

Knowing as much as I thought I did about the bigness of London, I found that morning that I never had any idea of what an everlasting town it is.  It is like a skein of tangled yarn—­there doesn’t seem to be any end to it.  Going in this way from Nelson’s Monument out into the country, it was amazing to see how long it took to get there.  We would go out of the busy streets into a quiet rural neighborhood, or what looked like it, and the next thing we knew we’d be in another whirl of omnibuses and cabs, with people and shops everywhere; and we’d go on and through this and then come to another handsome village with country houses, and the street would end in another busy town; and so on until I began to think there was no real country, at least, in the direction we was going.  It is my opinion that if London was put on a pivot and spun round in the State of Texas until it all flew apart, it would spread all over the State and settle up the whole country.

At last we did get away from the houses and began to roll along on the best made road I ever saw, with a hedge on each side and the greenest grass in the fields, and the most beautiful trees, with the very trunks covered with green leaves, and with white sheep and handsome cattle and pretty thatched cottages, and everything in perfect order, looking as if it had just been sprinkled and swept.  We had seen English country before, but that was from the windows of a train, and it was very different from this sort of thing, where we went meandering along lanes, for that is what the roads look like, being so narrow.

Just as I was getting my whole soul full of this lovely ruralness, down came a shower of rain without giving the least notice.  I gave a jump in my seat as I felt it on me, and began to get ready to get down as soon as the coachman should stop for us all to get inside; but he didn’t stop, but just drove along as if the sun was shining and the balmy breezes blowing, and then I looked around and not a soul of the eight people on the top of that coach showed the least sign of expecting to get down and go inside.  They all sat there just as if nothing was happening, and not one of them even mentioned the rain.  But I noticed that each of them had on a mackintosh or some kind of cape, whereas Jone and I never thought of taking anything in the way of waterproof or umbrellas, as it was perfectly clear when we started.