Read "The Celestial Omnibus" by E.M. Forster online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
The boy was in disgrace. He sat locked up in the nursery of Agathox Lodge, learning poetry for a punishment. His father had said, "My boy! I can pardon anything but untruthfulness," and had caned him, saying at each stroke, "There is _no_ omnibus, _no_ driver, _no_ bridge, _no_ mountain; you are a _truant_, _guttersnipe_, a _liar_. " His father could be very stern at times. His mother had begged him to say he was sorry. But he could not say that. It was the greatest day of his life, in spite of the caning, and the poetry at the end of it.
He had returned punctually at sunset -- driven not by Sir Thomas Browne, but by a maiden lady who was full of quiet fun. They had talked of omnibuses and also of barouche landaus. How far away her gentle voice seemed now! Yet it was scarcely three hours since he had left her up the alley.