"Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Celestial Railroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

the interruption- suddenly to vanish like a soap-bubble, and be
never more seen of his fellows; and so accustomed were the latter to
such little accidents, that they went on with their business, as
quietly as if nothing had happened. But it was otherwise with me.

Finally, after a pretty long residence at the Fair, I resumed my
journey towards the Celestial City, still with Mr. Smooth-it-away at
my side. At a short distance beyond the suburbs of Vanity, we passed
the ancient silver mine, of which Demas was the first discoverer,
and which is now wrought to great advantage, supplying nearly all
the coined currency of the world. A little further onward was the spot
where Lot's wife had stood for ages, under the semblance of a pillar
of salt. Curious travellers have long since carried it away piecemeal.
Had all regrets been punished as rigorously as this poor dame's
were, my yearning for the relinquished delights of Vanity Fair might
have produced a similar change in my own corporeal substance, and left
me a warning to future pilgrims.

The next remarkable object was a large edifice, constructed of
moss-grown stone, but in a modern and airy style of architecture.
The engine came to a pause in its vicinity with the usual tremendous
shriek.

"This was formerly the castle of the redoubted giant Despair,"
observed Mr. Smooth-it-away; "but, since his death, Mr. Flimsy-faith
has repaired it, and now keeps an excellent house of entertainment
here. It is one of our stopping-places."

"It seems but slightly put together," remarked I, looking at the
frail, yet ponderous walls. "I do not envy Mr. Flimsy-faith his
habitation. Some day it will thunder down upon the heads of the
occupants."

"We shall escape, at all events," said Mr. Smooth-it-away, "for
Apollyon is putting on the steam again."

The road now plunged into a gorge of the Delectable Mountains,
and traversed the field where, in former ages, the blind men
wandered and stumbled among the tombs. One of these ancient
tomb-stones had been thrust across the track, by some malicious
person, and gave the train of cars a terrible jolt. Far up the
rugged side of a mountain, I perceived a rusty iron door, half
overgrown with bushes and creeping plants, but with smoke issuing from
its crevices.

"Is that," inquired I, "the very door in the hill-side, which the
shepherds assured Christian was a by-way to Hell?"

"That was a joke on the part of the shepherds," said Mr.
Smooth-it-away, with a smile. "It is neither more nor less than the