journey to the outer islands - VIIII

He turned and addressed me. ‘I can see Lax Lodgings from ‘ere, Ma’am. What a lovely building – even I know that, and I’ve only seen three. Tell me ma’am, what material is it constructed of?’

‘The building is entirely made from glass, Rogers,’ I uttered. ‘As you may appreciate, there is very little wood in these islands, and in earlier times the only source of timber for house construction here was a shipwreck. The roofs and doors of many a home here depend on the flotsam of the ocean.

‘Seen from inside, one notices all sorts of extraordinary devices to supply couplers, and old oars, parts of boats and parts of masts are in common use. The thatch is of great thickness, and in view of winter storms is secured by old fishing nets, by means of which the roof is literally tied to the chimney, and pegged down to the projecting wall all around the house. Inside, the houses are warm and comfortable, the system of double walls, if somewhat clumsy, being probably warmer than that of mortar and hewn stones, in a climate which, though not cold, is as boisterous and humid as one might expect....’

‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Ma’am, but…’

‘What is it, Rogers? I wish you’d pay more attention, I thought we were making a little progress in terms of you learning something, anything.’

‘Moi only concern, ma’am, is that we are approaching a large glass house at a very convincingly acceleratin’ speed, in a horseless coach what is turned somewhat into a projectile by the extreme weight of a donkey placed atop it laid down with all your fine cases and other items of baggage, includin’ that kelp you picked up down at the docks and the lead you are carryin’ for the purpose of me relinin’ the edges of the windows in an extremely large glass house which we are approaching at a very convincingly acceleratin’ speed, in a horseless coach what is turned somewhat…’

‘Oh, Rogers,’ I quoth. ‘I wonder if this is the end?’