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The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 74 of 362 (20%)
SEEING LIVERPOOL.

On looking back to any given period of our life, we
generally find that the intervening time appears much
shorter than it really is. We see at once the starting-post
and the terminus, and the mind takes in at one view the
entire space.

But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a
short passage across the Atlantic. Knowing how great the
distance is, and accustomed to consider the voyage as
the work of many weeks, we are so astonished at finding
ourselves transported in a few days, from one continent
to another, that we can hardly credit the evidence of
our own senses.

Who is there that on landing has not asked himself the
question, "Is it possible that I am in England? It seems
but as yesterday that I was in America, to-day I am in
Europe. Is it a dream, or a reality?"

The river and the docks--the country and the town--the
people and their accent--the verdure and the climate are
all new to me. I have not been prepared for this; I have
not been led on imperceptibly, by travelling mile after
mile by land from my own home, to accustom my senses to
the gradual change of country. There has been no border
to pass, where the language, the dress, the habits, and
outward appearances assimilate. There has been no blending
of colours--no dissolving views in the retrospect--no
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