The Moon was shining slobaciously from the star-bespangled sky,
while her light irrigated the smooth and shiny sides and wings and backs of
the Blue-Bottle-Flies with a peculiar and trivial splendor, while all
Nature cheerfully responded to the cerulean and conspicuous circumstances.
In many long-after years, the four little travellers looked back to that
evening as one of the happiest in all their lives; and it was already past
midnight when--the sail of the boat having been set up by the
Quangle-Wangle, the tea-kettle and churn placed in their respective
positions, and the Pussy-Cat stationed at the helm--the children each took
a last and affectionate farewell of the Blue-Bottle-Flies, who walked down
in a body to the water's edge to see the travellers embark.
[Illustration]
As a token of parting respect and esteem, Violet made a courtesy quite down
to the ground, and stuck one of her few remaining parrot-tail feathers into
the back hair of the most pleasing of the Blue-Bottle-Flies; while
Slingsby, Guy, and Lionel offered them three small boxes, containing,
respectively, black pins, dried figs, and Epsom salts; and thus they left
that happy shore forever.
Overcome by their feelings, the four little travellers instantly jumped
into the tea-kettle, and fell fast asleep.
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