How The Dwarfs Refused To Be Taken In 矮人们固执己见
Tirian had thought-or he would have thought if he had time to think at all-that they were inside a little thatched stable， about twelve feet long and six feet wide. In reality they stood on grass， the deep blue sky was overhead， and the air which blew gently on their faces was that of a day in early summer.
Not far away from them rose a grove of trees， thickly leaved， but under every leaf there peeped out the gold or faint yellow or purple or glowing red of fruits such as no one has seen in our world. The fruit made Tirian feel that it must be autumn but there was something in the feel of the air that told him it could not be later than June. They all moved towards the trees.
Everyone raised his hand to pick the fruit he best liked the look of， and then everyone paused for a second. This fruit was so beautiful that each felt “It can’t be meant for me... surely we‘re not allowed to pluck it.”
“It’s all right，” said Peter. “I know what we‘re all thinking. But I’m sure， quite sure， we needn‘t. I’ve a feeling we‘ve got to the country where everything is allowed.”
“Here goes， then！” said Eustace. And they all began to eat.
What was the fruit like？ Unfortunately no one can describe a taste. All I can say is that， compared with those fruits， the freshest grapefruit you’ve ever eaten was dull， and the juiciest orange was dry， and the most melting pear was hard and woody， and the sweetest wild strawberry was sour. And there were no seeds or stones， and no wasps. If you had once eaten that fruit， all the nicest things in this world would taste like medicines after it. But I can‘t describe it. You can’t find out what it is like unless you can get to that country and taste it for yourself.
When they had eaten enough， Eustace said to King Peter， “You haven‘t yet told us how you got here. You were just going to， when King Tirian turned up.”
“There’s not much to tell，” said Peter. “Edmund and I were standing on the platform and we saw your train coming in. I remember thinking it was taking the bend far too fast. And I remember thinking how funny it was that our people were probably in the same train though Lucy didn‘t know about it-”
“Your people， High King？” said Tirian.
“I mean my father and mother-Edmund’s and Lucy‘s and mine.”
“Why were they？” asked Jill. “You don’t mean to say they know about Narnia？”
“Oh no， it had nothing to do with Narnia. They were on their way to Bristol. I‘d only heard they were going that morning. But Edmund said they’d be bound to be going by that train.” （Edmund was the sort of person who knows about railways.）
“And what happened then？” said Jill.
“Well， it‘s not very easy to describe， is it， Edmund？” said the High King.
“Not very，” said Edmund. “It wasn’t at all like that other time when we were pulled out of our own world by Magic. There was a frightful roar and something hit me with a bang， but it didn‘t hurt. And I felt not so much scared as-well， excited. Oh-and this is one queer thing. I’d had a rather sore knee， from a hack at rugger. I noticed it had suddenly gone. And I felt very light. And then-here we were.”
“It was much the same for us in the railway carriage，” said the Lord Digory， wiping the last traces of the fruit from his golden beard. “Only I think you and I， Polly， chiefly felt that we‘d been unstiffened. You youngsters won’t understand. But we stopped feeling old.”
“Youngsters， indeed！” said Jill. “I don‘t believe you two really are much older than we are here.”
“Well if we aren’t， we have been，” said the Lady Polly.
“And what has been happening since you got here？” asked Eustace. “Well，” said Peter， “for a long time （at least I suppose it was a longtime） nothing happened. Then the door opened-” “The door？” said Tirian.
“Yes，” said Peter. “The door you came in-or came out-by. Have you forgotten？”
“But where is it？”
“Look，” said Peter and pointed.
Tirian looked and saw the queerest and most ridiculous thing you can imagine. Only a few yards away， clear to be seen in the sunlight， there stood up a rough wooden door and， round it， the framework of the doorway： nothing else， no walls， no roof. He walked towards it， bewildered， and the others followed， watching to see what he would do. He walked round to the other side of the door. But it looked just the same from the other side： he was still in the open air， on a summer morning. The door was simply standing up by itself as if it had grown there like a tree.
“Fair Sir，” said Tirian to the High King， “this is a great marvel.”
“It is the door you came through with that Calormene five minutes ago，” said Peter smiling.
“But did I not come in out of the wood into the stable？ Whereas this seems to be a door leading from nowhere to nowhere.”
“It looks like that if you walk round it，” said Peter. “But put your eye to that place where there is a crack between two of the planks and look through.”
Tirian put his eye to the hole. At first he could see nothing but blackness. Then， at his eyes grew used to it， he saw the dull red glowof a bonfire that was nearly going out， and above that， in a black sky， stars. Then he could see dark figures moving about or standing between him and the fire： he could hear them talking and their voices were like those of Calormenes. So he knew that he was looking out through the stable door into the darkness of Lantern Waste where he had fought his last battle. The men were discussing whether to go in and look for Rishda Tarkaan （but none of them wanted to do that） or to set fire to the Stable.
He looked round again and could hardly believe his eyes. There was the blue sky overhead， and grassy country spreading as far as he could see in every direction， and his new friends all round him laughing.
“It seems， then，” said Tirian， smiling himself， “that the Stable seen from within and the Stable seen from without are two different places.”
“Yes，” said the Lord Digory. “Its inside is bigger than its outside.” “Yes，” said Queen Lucy. “In our world too， a stable once hadsomething inside it that was bigger than our whole world.”