anywhere, and I'm tired of the Lands of Dream."

"Then suppose you try going in through the right door," she said.

"That's no good," I said. "Everyone's dead and gone, and they're
selling buns there."

"What do you know about Time?" she said.

"Nothing," answered the old, black cat, though nobody spoke to him.

"Run along," said the old witch.

So I turned and trudged away to Go-by Street again. I was very tired.
"What does he know about anything?" said the old black cat behind me.
I knew what he was going to say next. He waited a moment and then
said, "Nothing." When I looked over my shoulder he was strutting back
to the cottage. And when I got to Go-by Street I listlessly opened
the door through which I had just now come. I saw no use in doing it,
I just did wearily as I was told. And the moment I got inside I saw
it was just the same as of old, and the sleepy old man was there who
sold idols. And I bought a vulgar thing that I did not want, for the
sheer joy of seeing accustomed things. And when I turned from Go-by
Street which was just the same as ever, the first thing that I saw was
a taximeter running into a hansom cab. And I took off my hat and
cheered. And I went to the Embankment and there was my boat, and the
stately river full of dirty, accustomed things. And I rowed back and
bought a penny paper, (I had been away it seemed for one day) and I
read it from cover to cover--patent remedies for incurable illnesses
and all--and I determined to walk, as soon as I was rested, in all the