Chapter 41

           

           Kitmadehiswaythroughthecrowdedstreets,dividingthestreamofpeople,dashingacrossthebusyroad-ways,divingintolanesandalleys,andstoppingorturningasidefornothing,untilhecameinfrontoftheOldCuriosityShop,whenhecametoastand;partlyfromhabitandpartlyfrombeingoutofbreath.

           Itwasagloomyautumnevening,andhethoughttheoldplacehadneverlookedsodismalasinitsdrearytwilight.Thewindowsbroken,therustysashesrattlingintheirframes,thedesertedhouseadullbarrierdividingtheglaringlightsandbustleofthestreetintotwolonglines,andstandinginthemidst,cold,dark,andemptypresentedacheerlessspectaclewhichmingledharshlywiththebrightprospectstheboyhadbeenbuildingupforitslateinmates,andcamelikeadisappointmentormisfortune.Kitwouldhavehadagoodfireroaringuptheemptychimneys,lightssparklingandshiningthroughthewindows,peoplemovingbrisklytoandfro,voicesincheerfulconversation,somethinginunisonwiththenewhopesthatwereastir.Hehadnotexpectedthatthehousewouldwearanydifferentaspecthadknownindeedthatitcouldnotbutcominguponitinthemidstofeagerthoughtsandexpectations,itcheckedthecurrentinitsflow,anddarkeneditwithamournfulshadow.

           Kit,however,fortunatelyforhimself,wasnotlearnedenoughorcontemplativeenoughtobetroubledwithpresagesofevilafaroff,and,havingnomentalspectaclestoassisthisvisioninthisrespect,sawnothingbutthedullhouse,whichjarreduncomfortablyuponhispreviousthoughts.

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