"Out upon stage-coaches!" said one.
"Steamers indeed!" said the other.
"Railroads! eh? rubbish!" put in Kennedy, "that
you travel on, without seeing the country!"
"Balloons! they're the sort for me!" Joe would add.
"Why, you don't feel yourself going, and Nature takes
the trouble to spread herself out before one's eyes!"
"What a splendid sight! What a spectacle! What
a delight! a dream in a hammock!"
"Suppose we take our breakfast?" was Joe's unpoetical
change of tune, at last, for the keen, open air had
mightily sharpened his appetite.
"Good idea, my boy!"
"Oh! it won't take us long to do the cooking--biscuit
and potted meat?"
"And as much coffee as you like," said the doctor. "I
give you leave to borrow a little heat from my cylinder.
There's enough and to spare, for that matter, and so we
shall avoid the risk of a conflagration."
"That would be a dreadful misfortune!" ejaculated
Kennedy. "It's the same as a powder-magazine suspended
over our heads."
"Not precisely," said Ferguson, "but still if the gas were
to take fire it would burn up gradually, and we should
settle down on the ground, which would be disagreeable;
but never fear--our balloon is hermetically sealed."
"Let us eat a bite, then," replied Kennedy.
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