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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" />
+<title>An Inland Voyage, by Robert Louis Stevenson</title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, An Inland Voyage, by Robert Louis Stevenson,
+Illustrated by Walter Crane
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: An Inland Voyage
+
+
+Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+
+
+Release Date: February 10, 2013 [eBook #534]
+[This file was first posted on March 19, 1996]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN INLAND VOYAGE***
+</pre>
+<p>Transcribed from 1904 Chatto &amp; Windus edition by David
+Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org&nbsp; Second proof by Margaret
+Price</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/p0ab.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Picture of Pan by a river, by Walter Crane"
+title=
+"Picture of Pan by a river, by Walter Crane"
+src="images/p0as.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<h1>AN INLAND VOYAGE</h1>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span
+class="GutSmall">BY</span></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/p0bb.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Decorative graphic"
+title=
+"Decorative graphic"
+src="images/p0bs.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">A NEW
+EDITION</span></p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">WITH A
+FRONTISPIECE BY WALTER CRANE</span></p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center">LONDON<br />
+CHATTO &amp; WINDUS<br />
+1904</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<blockquote><p>&lsquo;Thus sang they in the English
+boat.&rsquo;</p>
+<p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="smcap">Marvell</span>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<h2>PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">To</span> equip so small a book with a
+preface is, I am half afraid, to sin against proportion.&nbsp;
+But a preface is more than an author can resist, for it is the
+reward of his labours.&nbsp; When the foundation stone is laid,
+the architect appears with his plans, and struts for an hour
+before the public eye.&nbsp; So with the writer in his preface:
+he may have never a word to say, but he must show himself for a
+moment in the portico, hat in hand, and with an urbane
+demeanour.</p>
+<p>It is best, in such circumstances, to represent a delicate
+shade of manner between humility and superiority: as if the book
+had been written by some one else, and you had merely run over it
+and inserted what was good.&nbsp; But for my part I have not yet
+learned the trick to that perfection; I am not yet able to
+dissemble the warmth of my sentiments towards a reader; and if I
+meet him on the threshold, it is to invite him in with country
+cordiality.</p>
+<p>To say truth, I had no sooner finished reading this little
+book in proof, than I was seized upon by a distressing
+apprehension.&nbsp; It occurred to me that I might not only be
+the first to read these pages, but the last as well; that I might
+have pioneered this very smiling tract of country all in vain,
+and find not a soul to follow in my steps.&nbsp; The more I
+thought, the more I disliked the notion; until the distaste grew
+into a sort of panic terror, and I rushed into this Preface,
+which is no more than an advertisement for readers.</p>
+<p>What am I to say for my book?&nbsp; Caleb and Joshua brought
+back from Palestine a formidable bunch of grapes; alas! my book
+produces naught so nourishing; and for the matter of that, we
+live in an age when people prefer a definition to any quantity of
+fruit.</p>
+<p>I wonder, would a negative be found enticing? for, from the
+negative point of view, I flatter myself this volume has a
+certain stamp.&nbsp; Although it runs to considerably upwards of
+two hundred pages, it contains not a single reference to the
+imbecility of God&rsquo;s universe, nor so much as a single hint
+that I could have made a better one myself.&mdash;I really do not
+know where my head can have been.&nbsp; I seem to have forgotten
+all that makes it glorious to be man.&mdash;&rsquo;Tis an
+omission that renders the book philosophically unimportant; but I
+am in hopes the eccentricity may please in frivolous circles.</p>
+<p>To the friend who accompanied me I owe many thanks already,
+indeed I wish I owed him nothing else; but at this moment I feel
+towards him an almost exaggerated tenderness.&nbsp; He, at least,
+will become my reader:&mdash;if it were only to follow his own
+travels alongside of mine.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">R.L.S.</p>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<table>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span
+class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Antwerp to Boom</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page1">1</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">On the Willebroek Canal</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page8">8</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">The Royal Sport Nautique</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page16">16</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">At Maubeuge</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page25">25</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">On the Sambre Canalised: to
+Quartes</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page33">33</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Pont-sur-Sambre</span>:</p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">We are
+Pedlars</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page42">42</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Travelling
+Merchant</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page51">51</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">On the Sambre Canalised: to
+Landrecies</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page59">59</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">At Landrecies</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page67">67</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Sambre and Oise Canal: Canal
+boats</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page75">75</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">The Oise in Flood</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page83">83</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Origny Sainte-Beno&icirc;te</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p>&nbsp;</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">A By-day</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page95">95</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Company at
+Table</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page105">105</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Down the Oise: to Moy</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page116">116</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">La F&egrave;re of Cursed
+Memory</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page124">124</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Down the Oise: Through the Golden
+Valley</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page133">133</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Noyon Cathedral</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page137">137</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Down the Oise: to
+Compi&egrave;gne</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page145">145</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Changed Times</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page157">157</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Down the Oise: Church
+interiors</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page167">167</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Pr&eacute;cy and the
+Marionnettes</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page177">177</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p><span class="smcap">Back to the world</span></p>
+</td>
+<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a
+href="#page194">194</a></span></p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<h2><i>TO</i><br />
+<i>SIR WALTER GRINDLAY SIMPSON</i>, <i>BART.</i></h2>
+<p><i>My dear Cigarette</i>,</p>
+<p><i>It was enough that you should have shared so liberally in
+the rains and portages of our voyage</i>; <i>that you should have
+had so hard a paddle to recover the derelict</i>
+&lsquo;<i>Arethusa</i>&rsquo; <i>on the flooded Oise</i>; <i>and
+that you should thenceforth have piloted a mere wreck of mankind
+to Origny Sainte-Beno&icirc;te and a supper so eagerly
+desired</i>.&nbsp; <i>It was perhaps more than enough</i>, <i>as
+you once somewhat piteously complained</i>, <i>that I should have
+set down all the strong language to you</i>, <i>and kept the
+appropriate reflexions for myself</i>.&nbsp; <i>I could not in
+decency expose you to share the disgrace of another and more
+public shipwreck</i>.&nbsp; <i>But now that this voyage of ours
+is going into a cheap edition</i>, <i>that peril</i>, <i>we shall
+hope</i>, <i>is at an end</i>, <i>and I may put your name on the
+burgee</i>.</p>
+<p><i>But I cannot pause till I have lamented the fate of our two
+ships</i>.&nbsp; <i>That</i>, <i>sir</i>, <i>was not a fortunate
+day when we projected the possession of a canal barge</i>; <i>it
+was not a fortunate day when we shared our day-dream with the
+most hopeful of day-dreamers</i>.&nbsp; <i>For a while</i>,
+<i>indeed</i>, <i>the world looked smilingly</i>.&nbsp; <i>The
+barge was procured and christened</i>, <i>and as the</i>
+&lsquo;<i>Eleven Thousand Virgins of Cologne</i>,&rsquo; <i>lay
+for some months</i>, <i>the admired of all admirers</i>, <i>in a
+pleasant river and under the walls of an ancient town</i>.&nbsp;
+<i>M. Mattras</i>, <i>the accomplished carpenter of Moret</i>,
+<i>had made her a centre of emulous labour</i>; <i>and you will
+not have forgotten the amount of sweet champagne consumed in the
+inn at the bridge end</i>, <i>to give zeal to the workmen and
+speed to the work</i>.&nbsp; <i>On the financial aspect</i>, <i>I
+would not willingly dwell</i>.&nbsp; <i>The</i> &lsquo;<i>Eleven
+Thousand Virgins of Cologne</i>&rsquo; <i>rotted in the stream
+where she was beautified</i>.&nbsp; <i>She felt not the impulse
+of the breeze</i>; <i>she was never harnessed to the patient
+track-horse</i>.&nbsp; <i>And when at length she was sold</i>,
+<i>by the indignant carpenter of Moret</i>, <i>there were sold
+along with her the</i> &lsquo;<i>Arethusa</i>&rsquo; <i>and
+the</i> &lsquo;<i>Cigarette</i>,&rsquo; <i>she of cedar</i>,
+<i>she</i>, <i>as we knew so keenly on a portage</i>, <i>of
+solid-hearted English oak</i>.&nbsp; <i>Now these historic
+vessels fly the tricolor and are known by new and alien
+names</i>.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right"><i>R. L. S.</i></p>
+<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>ANTWERP
+TO BOOM</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> made a great stir in Antwerp
+Docks.&nbsp; A stevedore and a lot of dock porters took up the
+two canoes, and ran with them for the slip.&nbsp; A crowd of
+children followed cheering.&nbsp; The <i>Cigarette</i> went off
+in a splash and a bubble of small breaking water.&nbsp; Next
+moment the <i>Arethusa</i> was after her.&nbsp; A steamer was
+coming down, men on the paddle-box shouted hoarse warnings, the
+stevedore and his porters were bawling from the quay.&nbsp; But
+in a stroke or two the canoes were away out in the middle of the
+Scheldt, and all steamers, and stevedores, and other
+&lsquo;long-shore vanities were left behind.</p>
+<p>The sun shone brightly; the tide was making&mdash;four jolly
+miles an hour; the wind blew steadily, with occasional
+squalls.&nbsp; For my part, I had never been in a canoe under
+sail in my life; and my first experiment out in the middle of
+this big river was not made without some trepidation.&nbsp; What
+would happen when the wind first caught my little canvas?&nbsp; I
+suppose it was almost as trying a venture into the regions of the
+unknown as to publish a first book, or to marry.&nbsp; But my
+doubts were not of long duration; and in five minutes you will
+not be surprised to learn that I had tied my sheet.</p>
+<p>I own I was a little struck by this circumstance myself; of
+course, in company with the rest of my fellow-men, I had always
+tied the sheet in a sailing-boat; but in so little and crank a
+concern as a canoe, and with these charging squalls, I was not
+prepared to find myself follow the same principle; and it
+inspired me with some contemptuous views of our regard for
+life.&nbsp; It is certainly easier to smoke with the sheet
+fastened; but I had never before weighed a comfortable pipe of
+tobacco against an obvious risk, and gravely elected for the
+comfortable pipe.&nbsp; It is a commonplace, that we cannot
+answer for ourselves before we have been tried.&nbsp; But it is
+not so common a reflection, and surely more consoling, that we
+usually find ourselves a great deal braver and better than we
+thought.&nbsp; I believe this is every one&rsquo;s experience:
+but an apprehension that they may belie themselves in the future
+prevents mankind from trumpeting this cheerful sentiment
+abroad.&nbsp; I wish sincerely, for it would have saved me much
+trouble, there had been some one to put me in a good heart about
+life when I was younger; to tell me how dangers are most
+portentous on a distant sight; and how the good in a man&rsquo;s
+spirit will not suffer itself to be overlaid, and rarely or never
+deserts him in the hour of need.&nbsp; But we are all for
+tootling on the sentimental flute in literature; and not a man
+among us will go to the head of the march to sound the heady
+drums.</p>
+<p>It was agreeable upon the river.&nbsp; A barge or two went
+past laden with hay.&nbsp; Reeds and willows bordered the stream;
+and cattle and grey venerable horses came and hung their mild
+heads over the embankment.&nbsp; Here and there was a pleasant
+village among trees, with a noisy shipping-yard; here and there a
+villa in a lawn.&nbsp; The wind served us well up the Scheldt and
+thereafter up the Rupel; and we were running pretty free when we
+began to sight the brickyards of Boom, lying for a long way on
+the right bank of the river.&nbsp; The left bank was still green
+and pastoral, with alleys of trees along the embankment, and here
+and there a flight of steps to serve a ferry, where perhaps there
+sat a woman with her elbows on her knees, or an old gentleman
+with a staff and silver spectacles.&nbsp; But Boom and its
+brickyards grew smokier and shabbier with every minute; until a
+great church with a clock, and a wooden bridge over the river,
+indicated the central quarters of the town.</p>
+<p>Boom is not a nice place, and is only remarkable for one
+thing: that the majority of the inhabitants have a private
+opinion that they can speak English, which is not justified by
+fact.&nbsp; This gave a kind of haziness to our
+intercourse.&nbsp; As for the H&ocirc;tel de la Navigation, I
+think it is the worst feature of the place.&nbsp; It boasts of a
+sanded parlour, with a bar at one end, looking on the street; and
+another sanded parlour, darker and colder, with an empty
+bird-cage and a tricolour subscription box by way of sole
+adornment, where we made shift to dine in the company of three
+uncommunicative engineer apprentices and a silent bagman.&nbsp;
+The food, as usual in Belgium, was of a nondescript occasional
+character; indeed I have never been able to detect anything in
+the nature of a meal among this pleasing people; they seem to
+peck and trifle with viands all day long in an amateur spirit:
+tentatively French, truly German, and somehow falling between the
+two.</p>
+<p>The empty bird-cage, swept and garnished, and with no trace of
+the old piping favourite, save where two wires had been pushed
+apart to hold its lump of sugar, carried with it a sort of
+graveyard cheer.&nbsp; The engineer apprentices would have
+nothing to say to us, nor indeed to the bagman; but talked low
+and sparingly to one another, or raked us in the gaslight with a
+gleam of spectacles.&nbsp; For though handsome lads, they were
+all (in the Scots phrase) barnacled.</p>
+<p>There was an English maid in the hotel, who had been long
+enough out of England to pick up all sorts of funny foreign
+idioms, and all sorts of curious foreign ways, which need not
+here be specified.&nbsp; She spoke to us very fluently in her
+jargon, asked us information as to the manners of the present day
+in England, and obligingly corrected us when we attempted to
+answer.&nbsp; But as we were dealing with a woman, perhaps our
+information was not so much thrown away as it appeared.&nbsp; The
+sex likes to pick up knowledge and yet preserve its
+superiority.&nbsp; It is good policy, and almost necessary in the
+circumstances.&nbsp; If a man finds a woman admire him, were it
+only for his acquaintance with geography, he will begin at once
+to build upon the admiration.&nbsp; It is only by unintermittent
+snubbing that the pretty ones can keep us in our place.&nbsp;
+Men, as Miss Howe or Miss Harlowe would have said, &lsquo;are
+such <i>encroachers</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; For my part, I am body and
+soul with the women; and after a well-married couple, there is
+nothing so beautiful in the world as the myth of the divine
+huntress.&nbsp; It is no use for a man to take to the woods; we
+know him; St. Anthony tried the same thing long ago, and had a
+pitiful time of it by all accounts.&nbsp; But there is this about
+some women, which overtops the best gymnosophist among men, that
+they suffice to themselves, and can walk in a high and cold zone
+without the countenance of any trousered being.&nbsp; I declare,
+although the reverse of a professed ascetic, I am more obliged to
+women for this ideal than I should be to the majority of them, or
+indeed to any but one, for a spontaneous kiss.&nbsp; There is
+nothing so encouraging as the spectacle of
+self-sufficiency.&nbsp; And when I think of the slim and lovely
+maidens, running the woods all night to the note of Diana&rsquo;s
+horn; moving among the old oaks, as fancy-free as they; things of
+the forest and the starlight, not touched by the commotion of
+man&rsquo;s hot and turbid life&mdash;although there are plenty
+other ideals that I should prefer&mdash;I find my heart beat at
+the thought of this one.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis to fail in life, but to
+fail with what a grace!&nbsp; That is not lost which is not
+regretted.&nbsp; And where&mdash;here slips out the
+male&mdash;where would be much of the glory of inspiring love, if
+there were no contempt to overcome?</p>
+<h2><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>ON THE
+WILLEBROEK CANAL</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> morning, when we set forth on
+the Willebroek Canal, the rain began heavy and chill.&nbsp; The
+water of the canal stood at about the drinking temperature of
+tea; and under this cold aspersion, the surface was covered with
+steam.&nbsp; The exhilaration of departure, and the easy motion
+of the boats under each stroke of the paddles, supported us
+through this misfortune while it lasted; and when the cloud
+passed and the sun came out again, our spirits went up above the
+range of stay-at-home humours.&nbsp; A good breeze rustled and
+shivered in the rows of trees that bordered the canal.&nbsp; The
+leaves flickered in and out of the light in tumultuous
+masses.&nbsp; It seemed sailing weather to eye and ear; but down
+between the banks, the wind reached us only in faint and
+desultory puffs.&nbsp; There was hardly enough to steer by.&nbsp;
+Progress was intermittent and unsatisfactory.&nbsp; A jocular
+person, of marine antecedents, hailed us from the tow-path with a
+&lsquo;<i>C&rsquo;est vite</i>, <i>mais c&rsquo;est
+long</i>.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The canal was busy enough.&nbsp; Every now and then we met or
+overtook a long string of boats, with great green tillers; high
+sterns with a window on either side of the rudder, and perhaps a
+jug or a flower-pot in one of the windows; a dinghy following
+behind; a woman busied about the day&rsquo;s dinner, and a
+handful of children.&nbsp; These barges were all tied one behind
+the other with tow ropes, to the number of twenty-five or thirty;
+and the line was headed and kept in motion by a steamer of
+strange construction.&nbsp; It had neither paddle-wheel nor
+screw; but by some gear not rightly comprehensible to the
+unmechanical mind, it fetched up over its bow a small bright
+chain which lay along the bottom of the canal, and paying it out
+again over the stern, dragged itself forward, link by link, with
+its whole retinue of loaded skows.&nbsp; Until one had found out
+the key to the enigma, there was something solemn and
+uncomfortable in the progress of one of these trains, as it moved
+gently along the water with nothing to mark its advance but an
+eddy alongside dying away into the wake.</p>
+<p>Of all the creatures of commercial enterprise, a canal barge
+is by far the most delightful to consider.&nbsp; It may spread
+its sails, and then you see it sailing high above the tree-tops
+and the windmill, sailing on the aqueduct, sailing through the
+green corn-lands: the most picturesque of things
+amphibious.&nbsp; Or the horse plods along at a foot-pace as if
+there were no such thing as business in the world; and the man
+dreaming at the tiller sees the same spire on the horizon all day
+long.&nbsp; It is a mystery how things ever get to their
+destination at this rate; and to see the barges waiting their
+turn at a lock, affords a fine lesson of how easily the world may
+be taken.&nbsp; There should be many contented spirits on board,
+for such a life is both to travel and to stay at home.</p>
+<p>The chimney smokes for dinner as you go along; the banks of
+the canal slowly unroll their scenery to contemplative eyes; the
+barge floats by great forests and through great cities with their
+public buildings and their lamps at night; and for the bargee, in
+his floating home, &lsquo;travelling abed,&rsquo; it is merely as
+if he were listening to another man&rsquo;s story or turning the
+leaves of a picture-book in which he had no concern.&nbsp; He may
+take his afternoon walk in some foreign country on the banks of
+the canal, and then come home to dinner at his own fireside.</p>
+<p>There is not enough exercise in such a life for any high
+measure of health; but a high measure of health is only necessary
+for unhealthy people.&nbsp; The slug of a fellow, who is never
+ill nor well, has a quiet time of it in life, and dies all the
+easier.</p>
+<p>I am sure I would rather be a bargee than occupy any position
+under heaven that required attendance at an office.&nbsp; There
+are few callings, I should say, where a man gives up less of his
+liberty in return for regular meals.&nbsp; The bargee is on
+shipboard&mdash;he is master in his own ship&mdash;he can land
+whenever he will&mdash;he can never be kept beating off a
+lee-shore a whole frosty night when the sheets are as hard as
+iron; and so far as I can make out, time stands as nearly still
+with him as is compatible with the return of bed-time or the
+dinner-hour.&nbsp; It is not easy to see why a bargee should ever
+die.</p>
+<p>Half-way between Willebroek and Villevorde, in a beautiful
+reach of canal like a squire&rsquo;s avenue, we went ashore to
+lunch.&nbsp; There were two eggs, a junk of bread, and a bottle
+of wine on board the <i>Arethusa</i>; and two eggs and an Etna
+cooking apparatus on board the <i>Cigarette</i>.&nbsp; The master
+of the latter boat smashed one of the eggs in the course of
+disembarkation; but observing pleasantly that it might still be
+cooked <i>&agrave; la papier</i>, he dropped it into the Etna, in
+its covering of Flemish newspaper.&nbsp; We landed in a blink of
+fine weather; but we had not been two minutes ashore before the
+wind freshened into half a gale, and the rain began to patter on
+our shoulders.&nbsp; We sat as close about the Etna as we
+could.&nbsp; The spirits burned with great ostentation; the grass
+caught flame every minute or two, and had to be trodden out; and
+before long, there were several burnt fingers of the party.&nbsp;
+But the solid quantity of cookery accomplished was out of
+proportion with so much display; and when we desisted, after two
+applications of the fire, the sound egg was little more than
+loo-warm; and as for <i>&agrave; la papier</i>, it was a cold and
+sordid <i>fricass&eacute;e</i> of printer&rsquo;s ink and broken
+egg-shell.&nbsp; We made shift to roast the other two, by putting
+them close to the burning spirits; and that with better
+success.&nbsp; And then we uncorked the bottle of wine, and sat
+down in a ditch with our canoe aprons over our knees.&nbsp; It
+rained smartly.&nbsp; Discomfort, when it is honestly
+uncomfortable and makes no nauseous pretensions to the contrary,
+is a vastly humorous business; and people well steeped and
+stupefied in the open air are in a good vein for laughter.&nbsp;
+From this point of view, even egg <i>&agrave; la papier</i>
+offered by way of food may pass muster as a sort of accessory to
+the fun.&nbsp; But this manner of jest, although it may be taken
+in good part, does not invite repetition; and from that time
+forward, the Etna voyaged like a gentleman in the locker of the
+<i>Cigarette</i>.</p>
+<p>It is almost unnecessary to mention that when lunch was over
+and we got aboard again and made sail, the wind promptly died
+away.&nbsp; The rest of the journey to Villevorde, we still
+spread our canvas to the unfavouring air; and with now and then a
+puff, and now and then a spell of paddling, drifted along from
+lock to lock, between the orderly trees.</p>
+<p>It was a fine, green, fat landscape; or rather a mere green
+water-lane, going on from village to village.&nbsp; Things had a
+settled look, as in places long lived in.&nbsp; Crop-headed
+children spat upon us from the bridges as we went below, with a
+true conservative feeling.&nbsp; But even more conservative were
+the fishermen, intent upon their floats, who let us go by without
+one glance.&nbsp; They perched upon sterlings and buttresses and
+along the slope of the embankment, gently occupied.&nbsp; They
+were indifferent, like pieces of dead nature.&nbsp; They did not
+move any more than if they had been fishing in an old Dutch
+print.&nbsp; The leaves fluttered, the water lapped, but they
+continued in one stay like so many churches established by
+law.&nbsp; You might have trepanned every one of their innocent
+heads, and found no more than so much coiled fishing-line below
+their skulls.&nbsp; I do not care for your stalwart fellows in
+india-rubber stockings breasting up mountain torrents with a
+salmon rod; but I do dearly love the class of man who plies his
+unfruitful art, for ever and a day, by still and depopulated
+waters.</p>
+<p>At the last lock, just beyond Villevorde, there was a
+lock-mistress who spoke French comprehensibly, and told us we
+were still a couple of leagues from Brussels.&nbsp; At the same
+place, the rain began again.&nbsp; It fell in straight, parallel
+lines; and the surface of the canal was thrown up into an
+infinity of little crystal fountains.&nbsp; There were no beds to
+be had in the neighbourhood.&nbsp; Nothing for it but to lay the
+sails aside and address ourselves to steady paddling in the
+rain.</p>
+<p>Beautiful country houses, with clocks and long lines of
+shuttered windows, and fine old trees standing in groves and
+avenues, gave a rich and sombre aspect in the rain and the
+deepening dusk to the shores of the canal.&nbsp; I seem to have
+seen something of the same effect in engravings: opulent
+landscapes, deserted and overhung with the passage of
+storm.&nbsp; And throughout we had the escort of a hooded cart,
+which trotted shabbily along the tow-path, and kept at an almost
+uniform distance in our wake.</p>
+<h2><a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 16</span>THE
+ROYAL SPORT NAUTIQUE</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> rain took off near
+Laeken.&nbsp; But the sun was already down; the air was chill;
+and we had scarcely a dry stitch between the pair of us.&nbsp;
+Nay, now we found ourselves near the end of the All&eacute;e
+Verte, and on the very threshold of Brussels, we were confronted
+by a serious difficulty.&nbsp; The shores were closely lined by
+canal boats waiting their turn at the lock.&nbsp; Nowhere was
+there any convenient landing-place; nowhere so much as a
+stable-yard to leave the canoes in for the night.&nbsp; We
+scrambled ashore and entered an <i>estaminet</i> where some sorry
+fellows were drinking with the landlord.&nbsp; The landlord was
+pretty round with us; he knew of no coach-house or stable-yard,
+nothing of the sort; and seeing we had come with no mind to
+drink, he did not conceal his impatience to be rid of us.&nbsp;
+One of the sorry fellows came to the rescue.&nbsp; Somewhere in
+the corner of the basin there was a slip, he informed us, and
+something else besides, not very clearly defined by him, but
+hopefully construed by his hearers.</p>
+<p>Sure enough there was the slip in the corner of the basin; and
+at the top of it two nice-looking lads in boating clothes.&nbsp;
+The <i>Arethusa</i> addressed himself to these.&nbsp; One of them
+said there would be no difficulty about a night&rsquo;s lodging
+for our boats; and the other, taking a cigarette from his lips,
+inquired if they were made by Searle and Son.&nbsp; The name was
+quite an introduction.&nbsp; Half-a-dozen other young men came
+out of a boat-house bearing the superscription <span
+class="smcap">Royal Sport Nautique</span>, and joined in the
+talk.&nbsp; They were all very polite, voluble, and enthusiastic;
+and their discourse was interlarded with English boating terms,
+and the names of English boat-builders and English clubs.&nbsp; I
+do not know, to my shame, any spot in my native land where I
+should have been so warmly received by the same number of
+people.&nbsp; We were English boating-men, and the Belgian
+boating-men fell upon our necks.&nbsp; I wonder if French
+Huguenots were as cordially greeted by English Protestants when
+they came across the Channel out of great tribulation.&nbsp; But
+after all, what religion knits people so closely as a common
+sport?</p>
+<p>The canoes were carried into the boat-house; they were washed
+down for us by the Club servants, the sails were hung out to dry,
+and everything made as snug and tidy as a picture.&nbsp; And in
+the meanwhile we were led upstairs by our new-found brethren, for
+so more than one of them stated the relationship, and made free
+of their lavatory.&nbsp; This one lent us soap, that one a towel,
+a third and fourth helped us to undo our bags.&nbsp; And all the
+time such questions, such assurances of respect and
+sympathy!&nbsp; I declare I never knew what glory was before.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes, yes, the <i>Royal Sport Nautique</i> is the oldest
+club in Belgium.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We number two hundred.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We&rsquo;&mdash;this is not a substantive speech, but
+an abstract of many speeches, the impression left upon my mind
+after a great deal of talk; and very youthful, pleasant, natural,
+and patriotic it seems to me to be&mdash;&lsquo;We have gained
+all races, except those where we were cheated by the
+French.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You must leave all your wet things to be
+dried.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;O! <i>entre fr&egrave;res</i>!&nbsp; In any boat-house
+in England we should find the same.&rsquo;&nbsp; (I cordially
+hope they might.)</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>En Angleterre</i>, <i>vous employez des
+sliding-seats</i>, <i>n&rsquo;est-ce pas</i>?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We are all employed in commerce during the day; but in
+the evening, <i>voyez-vous</i>, <i>nous sommes
+s&eacute;rieux</i>.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>These were the words.&nbsp; They were all employed over the
+frivolous mercantile concerns of Belgium during the day; but in
+the evening they found some hours for the serious concerns of
+life.&nbsp; I may have a wrong idea of wisdom, but I think that
+was a very wise remark.&nbsp; People connected with literature
+and philosophy are busy all their days in getting rid of
+second-hand notions and false standards.&nbsp; It is their
+profession, in the sweat of their brows, by dogged thinking, to
+recover their old fresh view of life, and distinguish what they
+really and originally like, from what they have only learned to
+tolerate perforce.&nbsp; And these Royal Nautical Sportsmen had
+the distinction still quite legible in their hearts.&nbsp; They
+had still those clean perceptions of what is nice and nasty, what
+is interesting and what is dull, which envious old gentlemen
+refer to as illusions.&nbsp; The nightmare illusion of middle
+age, the bear&rsquo;s hug of custom gradually squeezing the life
+out of a man&rsquo;s soul, had not yet begun for these
+happy-starred young Belgians.&nbsp; They still knew that the
+interest they took in their business was a trifling affair
+compared to their spontaneous, long-suffering affection for
+nautical sports.&nbsp; To know what you prefer, instead of humbly
+saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is
+to have kept your soul alive.&nbsp; Such a man may be generous;
+he may be honest in something more than the commercial sense; he
+may love his friends with an elective, personal sympathy, and not
+accept them as an adjunct of the station to which he has been
+called.&nbsp; He may be a man, in short, acting on his own
+instincts, keeping in his own shape that God made him in; and not
+a mere crank in the social engine-house, welded on principles
+that he does not understand, and for purposes that he does not
+care for.</p>
+<p>For will any one dare to tell me that business is more
+entertaining than fooling among boats?&nbsp; He must have never
+seen a boat, or never seen an office, who says so.&nbsp; And for
+certain the one is a great deal better for the health.&nbsp;
+There should be nothing so much a man&rsquo;s business as his
+amusements.&nbsp; Nothing but money-grubbing can be put forward
+to the contrary; no one but</p>
+<blockquote><p>Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell<br />
+From Heaven,</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>durst risk a word in answer.&nbsp; It is but a lying cant that
+would represent the merchant and the banker as people
+disinterestedly toiling for mankind, and then most useful when
+they are most absorbed in their transactions; for the man is more
+important than his services.&nbsp; And when my Royal Nautical
+Sportsman shall have so far fallen from his hopeful youth that he
+cannot pluck up an enthusiasm over anything but his ledger, I
+venture to doubt whether he will be near so nice a fellow, and
+whether he would welcome, with so good a grace, a couple of
+drenched Englishmen paddling into Brussels in the dusk.</p>
+<p>When we had changed our wet clothes and drunk a glass of pale
+ale to the Club&rsquo;s prosperity, one of their number escorted
+us to an hotel.&nbsp; He would not join us at our dinner, but he
+had no objection to a glass of wine.&nbsp; Enthusiasm is very
+wearing; and I begin to understand why prophets were unpopular in
+Jud&aelig;a, where they were best known.&nbsp; For three stricken
+hours did this excellent young man sit beside us to dilate on
+boats and boat-races; and before he left, he was kind enough to
+order our bedroom candles.</p>
+<p>We endeavoured now and again to change the subject; but the
+diversion did not last a moment: the Royal Nautical Sportsman
+bridled, shied, answered the question, and then breasted once
+more into the swelling tide of his subject.&nbsp; I call it his
+subject; but I think it was he who was subjected.&nbsp; The
+<i>Arethusa</i>, who holds all racing as a creature of the devil,
+found himself in a pitiful dilemma.&nbsp; He durst not own his
+ignorance for the honour of Old England, and spoke away about
+English clubs and English oarsmen whose fame had never before
+come to his ears.&nbsp; Several times, and, once above all, on
+the question of sliding-seats, he was within an ace of
+exposure.&nbsp; As for the <i>Cigarette</i>, who has rowed races
+in the heat of his blood, but now disowns these slips of his
+wanton youth, his case was still more desperate; for the Royal
+Nautical proposed that he should take an oar in one of their
+eights on the morrow, to compare the English with the Belgian
+stroke.&nbsp; I could see my friend perspiring in his chair
+whenever that particular topic came up.&nbsp; And there was yet
+another proposal which had the same effect on both of us.&nbsp;
+It appeared that the champion canoeist of Europe (as well as most
+other champions) was a Royal Nautical Sportsman.&nbsp; And if we
+would only wait until the Sunday, this infernal paddler would be
+so condescending as to accompany us on our next stage.&nbsp;
+Neither of us had the least desire to drive the coursers of the
+sun against Apollo.</p>
+<p>When the young man was gone, we countermanded our candles, and
+ordered some brandy and water.&nbsp; The great billows had gone
+over our head.&nbsp; The Royal Nautical Sportsmen were as nice
+young fellows as a man would wish to see, but they were a trifle
+too young and a thought too nautical for us.&nbsp; We began to
+see that we were old and cynical; we liked ease and the agreeable
+rambling of the human mind about this and the other subject; we
+did not want to disgrace our native land by messing an eight, or
+toiling pitifully in the wake of the champion canoeist.&nbsp; In
+short, we had recourse to flight.&nbsp; It seemed ungrateful, but
+we tried to make that good on a card loaded with sincere
+compliments.&nbsp; And indeed it was no time for scruples; we
+seemed to feel the hot breath of the champion on our necks.</p>
+<h2><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>AT
+MAUBEUGE</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Partly</span> from the terror we had of
+our good friends the Royal Nauticals, partly from the fact that
+there were no fewer than fifty-five locks between Brussels and
+Charleroi, we concluded that we should travel by train across the
+frontier, boats and all.&nbsp; Fifty-five locks in a day&rsquo;s
+journey was pretty well tantamount to trudging the whole distance
+on foot, with the canoes upon our shoulders, an object of
+astonishment to the trees on the canal side, and of honest
+derision to all right-thinking children.</p>
+<p>To pass the frontier, even in a train, is a difficult matter
+for the <i>Arethusa</i>.&nbsp; He is somehow or other a marked
+man for the official eye.&nbsp; Wherever he journeys, there are
+the officers gathered together.&nbsp; Treaties are solemnly
+signed, foreign ministers, ambassadors, and consuls sit throned
+in state from China to Peru, and the Union Jack flutters on all
+the winds of heaven.&nbsp; Under these safeguards, portly
+clergymen, school-mistresses, gentlemen in grey tweed suits, and
+all the ruck and rabble of British touristry pour unhindered,
+<i>Murray</i> in hand, over the railways of the Continent, and
+yet the slim person of the <i>Arethusa</i> is taken in the
+meshes, while these great fish go on their way rejoicing.&nbsp;
+If he travels without a passport, he is cast, without any figure
+about the matter, into noisome dungeons: if his papers are in
+order, he is suffered to go his way indeed, but not until he has
+been humiliated by a general incredulity.&nbsp; He is a born
+British subject, yet he has never succeeded in persuading a
+single official of his nationality.&nbsp; He flatters himself he
+is indifferent honest; yet he is rarely taken for anything better
+than a spy, and there is no absurd and disreputable means of
+livelihood but has been attributed to him in some heat of
+official or popular distrust. . . .</p>
+<p>For the life of me I cannot understand it.&nbsp; I too have
+been knolled to church, and sat at good men&rsquo;s feasts; but I
+bear no mark of it.&nbsp; I am as strange as a Jack Indian to
+their official spectacles.&nbsp; I might come from any part of
+the globe, it seems, except from where I do.&nbsp; My ancestors
+have laboured in vain, and the glorious Constitution cannot
+protect me in my walks abroad.&nbsp; It is a great thing, believe
+me, to present a good normal type of the nation you belong
+to.</p>
+<p>Nobody else was asked for his papers on the way to Maubeuge;
+but I was; and although I clung to my rights, I had to choose at
+last between accepting the humiliation and being left behind by
+the train.&nbsp; I was sorry to give way; but I wanted to get to
+Maubeuge.</p>
+<p>Maubeuge is a fortified town, with a very good inn, the
+<i>Grand Cerf</i>.&nbsp; It seemed to be inhabited principally by
+soldiers and bagmen; at least, these were all that we saw, except
+the hotel servants.&nbsp; We had to stay there some time, for the
+canoes were in no hurry to follow us, and at last stuck
+hopelessly in the custom-house until we went back to liberate
+them.&nbsp; There was nothing to do, nothing to see.&nbsp; We had
+good meals, which was a great matter; but that was all.</p>
+<p>The <i>Cigarette</i> was nearly taken up upon a charge of
+drawing the fortifications: a feat of which he was hopelessly
+incapable.&nbsp; And besides, as I suppose each belligerent
+nation has a plan of the other&rsquo;s fortified places already,
+these precautions are of the nature of shutting the stable door
+after the steed is away.&nbsp; But I have no doubt they help to
+keep up a good spirit at home.&nbsp; It is a great thing if you
+can persuade people that they are somehow or other partakers in a
+mystery.&nbsp; It makes them feel bigger.&nbsp; Even the
+Freemasons, who have been shown up to satiety, preserve a kind of
+pride; and not a grocer among them, however honest, harmless, and
+empty-headed he may feel himself to be at bottom, but comes home
+from one of their <i>coenacula</i> with a portentous significance
+for himself.</p>
+<p>It is an odd thing, how happily two people, if there are two,
+can live in a place where they have no acquaintance.&nbsp; I
+think the spectacle of a whole life in which you have no part
+paralyses personal desire.&nbsp; You are content to become a mere
+spectator.&nbsp; The baker stands in his door; the colonel with
+his three medals goes by to the <i>caf&eacute;</i> at night; the
+troops drum and trumpet and man the ramparts, as bold as so many
+lions.&nbsp; It would task language to say how placidly you
+behold all this.&nbsp; In a place where you have taken some root,
+you are provoked out of your indifference; you have a hand in the
+game; your friends are fighting with the army.&nbsp; But in a
+strange town, not small enough to grow too soon familiar, nor so
+large as to have laid itself out for travellers, you stand so far
+apart from the business, that you positively forget it would be
+possible to go nearer; you have so little human interest around
+you, that you do not remember yourself to be a man.&nbsp;
+Perhaps, in a very short time, you would be one no longer.&nbsp;
+Gymnosophists go into a wood, with all nature seething around
+them, with romance on every side; it would be much more to the
+purpose if they took up their abode in a dull country town, where
+they should see just so much of humanity as to keep them from
+desiring more, and only the stale externals of man&rsquo;s
+life.&nbsp; These externals are as dead to us as so many
+formalities, and speak a dead language in our eyes and
+ears.&nbsp; They have no more meaning than an oath or a
+salutation.&nbsp; We are so much accustomed to see married
+couples going to church of a Sunday that we have clean forgotten
+what they represent; and novelists are driven to rehabilitate
+adultery, no less, when they wish to show us what a beautiful
+thing it is for a man and a woman to live for each other.</p>
+<p>One person in Maubeuge, however, showed me something more than
+his outside.&nbsp; That was the driver of the hotel omnibus: a
+mean enough looking little man, as well as I can remember; but
+with a spark of something human in his soul.&nbsp; He had heard
+of our little journey, and came to me at once in envious
+sympathy.&nbsp; How he longed to travel! he told me.&nbsp; How he
+longed to be somewhere else, and see the round world before he
+went into the grave!&nbsp; &lsquo;Here I am,&rsquo; said
+he.&nbsp; &lsquo;I drive to the station.&nbsp; Well.&nbsp; And
+then I drive back again to the hotel.&nbsp; And so on every day
+and all the week round.&nbsp; My God, is that life?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+I could not say I thought it was&mdash;for him.&nbsp; He pressed
+me to tell him where I had been, and where I hoped to go; and as
+he listened, I declare the fellow sighed.&nbsp; Might not this
+have been a brave African traveller, or gone to the Indies after
+Drake?&nbsp; But it is an evil age for the gypsily inclined among
+men.&nbsp; He who can sit squarest on a three-legged stool, he it
+is who has the wealth and glory.</p>
+<p>I wonder if my friend is still driving the omnibus for the
+Grand Cerf?&nbsp; Not very likely, I believe; for I think he was
+on the eve of mutiny when we passed through, and perhaps our
+passage determined him for good.&nbsp; Better a thousand times
+that he should be a tramp, and mend pots and pans by the wayside,
+and sleep under trees, and see the dawn and the sunset every day
+above a new horizon.&nbsp; I think I hear you say that it is a
+respectable position to drive an omnibus?&nbsp; Very well.&nbsp;
+What right has he who likes it not, to keep those who would like
+it dearly out of this respectable position?&nbsp; Suppose a dish
+were not to my taste, and you told me that it was a favourite
+amongst the rest of the company, what should I conclude from
+that?&nbsp; Not to finish the dish against my stomach, I
+suppose.</p>
+<p>Respectability is a very good thing in its way, but it does
+not rise superior to all considerations.&nbsp; I would not for a
+moment venture to hint that it was a matter of taste; but I think
+I will go as far as this: that if a position is admittedly
+unkind, uncomfortable, unnecessary, and superfluously useless,
+although it were as respectable as the Church of England, the
+sooner a man is out of it, the better for himself, and all
+concerned.</p>
+<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>ON THE
+SAMBRE CANALISED: TO QUARTES</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">About</span> three in the afternoon the
+whole establishment of the <i>Grand Cerf</i> accompanied us to
+the water&rsquo;s edge.&nbsp; The man of the omnibus was there
+with haggard eyes.&nbsp; Poor cage-bird!&nbsp; Do I not remember
+the time when I myself haunted the station, to watch train after
+train carry its complement of freemen into the night, and read
+the names of distant places on the time-bills with indescribable
+longings?</p>
+<p>We were not clear of the fortifications before the rain
+began.&nbsp; The wind was contrary, and blew in furious gusts;
+nor were the aspects of nature any more clement than the doings
+of the sky.&nbsp; For we passed through a stretch of blighted
+country, sparsely covered with brush, but handsomely enough
+diversified with factory chimneys.&nbsp; We landed in a soiled
+meadow among some pollards, and there smoked a pipe in a flaw of
+fair weather.&nbsp; But the wind blew so hard, we could get
+little else to smoke.&nbsp; There were no natural objects in the
+neighbourhood, but some sordid workshops.&nbsp; A group of
+children headed by a tall girl stood and watched us from a little
+distance all the time we stayed.&nbsp; I heartily wonder what
+they thought of us.</p>
+<p>At Hautmont, the lock was almost impassable; the landing-place
+being steep and high, and the launch at a long distance.&nbsp;
+Near a dozen grimy workmen lent us a hand.&nbsp; They refused any
+reward; and, what is much better, refused it handsomely, without
+conveying any sense of insult.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is a way we have
+in our countryside,&rsquo; said they.&nbsp; And a very becoming
+way it is.&nbsp; In Scotland, where also you will get services
+for nothing, the good people reject your money as if you had been
+trying to corrupt a voter.&nbsp; When people take the trouble to
+do dignified acts, it is worth while to take a little more, and
+allow the dignity to be common to all concerned.&nbsp; But in our
+brave Saxon countries, where we plod threescore years and ten in
+the mud, and the wind keeps singing in our ears from birth to
+burial, we do our good and bad with a high hand and almost
+offensively; and make even our alms a witness-bearing and an act
+of war against the wrong.</p>
+<p>After Hautmont, the sun came forth again and the wind went
+down; and a little paddling took us beyond the ironworks and
+through a delectable land.&nbsp; The river wound among low hills,
+so that sometimes the sun was at our backs, and sometimes it
+stood right ahead, and the river before us was one sheet of
+intolerable glory.&nbsp; On either hand, meadows and orchards
+bordered, with a margin of sedge and water flowers, upon the
+river.&nbsp; The hedges were of great height, woven about the
+trunks of hedgerow elms; and the fields, as they were often very
+small, looked like a series of bowers along the stream.&nbsp;
+There was never any prospect; sometimes a hill-top with its trees
+would look over the nearest hedgerow, just to make a middle
+distance for the sky; but that was all.&nbsp; The heaven was bare
+of clouds.&nbsp; The atmosphere, after the rain, was of
+enchanting purity.&nbsp; The river doubled among the hillocks, a
+shining strip of mirror glass; and the dip of the paddles set the
+flowers shaking along the brink.</p>
+<p>In the meadows wandered black and white cattle fantastically
+marked.&nbsp; One beast, with a white head and the rest of the
+body glossy black, came to the edge to drink, and stood gravely
+twitching his ears at me as I went by, like some sort of
+preposterous clergyman in a play.&nbsp; A moment after I heard a
+loud plunge, and, turning my head, saw the clergyman struggling
+to shore.&nbsp; The bank had given way under his feet.</p>
+<p>Besides the cattle, we saw no living things except a few birds
+and a great many fishermen.&nbsp; These sat along the edges of
+the meadows, sometimes with one rod, sometimes with as many as
+half a score.&nbsp; They seemed stupefied with contentment; and
+when we induced them to exchange a few words with us about the
+weather, their voices sounded quiet and far away.&nbsp; There was
+a strange diversity of opinion among them as to the kind of fish
+for which they set their lures; although they were all agreed in
+this, that the river was abundantly supplied.&nbsp; Where it was
+plain that no two of them had ever caught the same kind of fish,
+we could not help suspecting that perhaps not any one of them had
+ever caught a fish at all.&nbsp; I hope, since the afternoon was
+so lovely, that they were one and all rewarded; and that a silver
+booty went home in every basket for the pot.&nbsp; Some of my
+friends would cry shame on me for this; but I prefer a man, were
+he only an angler, to the bravest pair of gills in all
+God&rsquo;s waters.&nbsp; I do not affect fishes unless when
+cooked in sauce; whereas an angler is an important piece of river
+scenery, and hence deserves some recognition among
+canoeists.&nbsp; He can always tell you where you are after a
+mild fashion; and his quiet presence serves to accentuate the
+solitude and stillness, and remind you of the glittering citizens
+below your boat.</p>
+<p>The Sambre turned so industriously to and fro among his little
+hills, that it was past six before we drew near the lock at
+Quartes.&nbsp; There were some children on the tow-path, with
+whom the <i>Cigarette</i> fell into a chaffing talk as they ran
+along beside us.&nbsp; It was in vain that I warned him.&nbsp; In
+vain I told him, in English, that boys were the most dangerous
+creatures; and if once you began with them, it was safe to end in
+a shower of stones.&nbsp; For my own part, whenever anything was
+addressed to me, I smiled gently and shook my head as though I
+were an inoffensive person inadequately acquainted with
+French.&nbsp; For indeed I have had such experience at home, that
+I would sooner meet many wild animals than a troop of healthy
+urchins.</p>
+<p>But I was doing injustice to these peaceable young
+Hainaulters.&nbsp; When the <i>Cigarette</i> went off to make
+inquiries, I got out upon the bank to smoke a pipe and
+superintend the boats, and became at once the centre of much
+amiable curiosity.&nbsp; The children had been joined by this
+time by a young woman and a mild lad who had lost an arm; and
+this gave me more security.&nbsp; When I let slip my first word
+or so in French, a little girl nodded her head with a comical
+grown-up air.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah, you see,&rsquo; she said,
+&lsquo;he understands well enough now; he was just making
+believe.&rsquo;&nbsp; And the little group laughed together very
+good-naturedly.</p>
+<p>They were much impressed when they heard we came from England;
+and the little girl proffered the information that England was an
+island &lsquo;and a far way from here&mdash;<i>bien loin
+d&rsquo;ici</i>.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Ay, you may say that, a far way from here,&rsquo; said
+the lad with one arm.</p>
+<p>I was as nearly home-sick as ever I was in my life; they
+seemed to make it such an incalculable distance to the place
+where I first saw the day.&nbsp; They admired the canoes very
+much.&nbsp; And I observed one piece of delicacy in these
+children, which is worthy of record.&nbsp; They had been
+deafening us for the last hundred yards with petitions for a
+sail; ay, and they deafened us to the same tune next morning when
+we came to start; but then, when the canoes were lying empty,
+there was no word of any such petition.&nbsp; Delicacy? or
+perhaps a bit of fear for the water in so crank a vessel?&nbsp; I
+hate cynicism a great deal worse than I do the devil; unless
+perhaps the two were the same thing?&nbsp; And yet &rsquo;tis a
+good tonic; the cold tub and bath-towel of the sentiments; and
+positively necessary to life in cases of advanced
+sensibility.</p>
+<p>From the boats they turned to my costume.&nbsp; They could not
+make enough of my red sash; and my knife filled them with
+awe.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;They make them like that in England,&rsquo; said the
+boy with one arm.&nbsp; I was glad he did not know how badly we
+make them in England now-a-days.&nbsp; &lsquo;They are for people
+who go away to sea,&rsquo; he added, &lsquo;and to defend
+one&rsquo;s life against great fish.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I felt I was becoming a more and more romantic figure to the
+little group at every word.&nbsp; And so I suppose I was.&nbsp;
+Even my pipe, although it was an ordinary French clay pretty well
+&lsquo;trousered,&rsquo; as they call it, would have a rarity in
+their eyes, as a thing coming from so far away.&nbsp; And if my
+feathers were not very fine in themselves, they were all from
+over seas.&nbsp; One thing in my outfit, however, tickled them
+out of all politeness; and that was the bemired condition of my
+canvas shoes.&nbsp; I suppose they were sure the mud at any rate
+was a home product.&nbsp; The little girl (who was the genius of
+the party) displayed her own sabots in competition; and I wish
+you could have seen how gracefully and merrily she did it.</p>
+<p>The young woman&rsquo;s milk-can, a great amphora of hammered
+brass, stood some way off upon the sward.&nbsp; I was glad of an
+opportunity to divert public attention from myself, and return
+some of the compliments I had received.&nbsp; So I admired it
+cordially both for form and colour, telling them, and very truly,
+that it was as beautiful as gold.&nbsp; They were not
+surprised.&nbsp; The things were plainly the boast of the
+countryside.&nbsp; And the children expatiated on the costliness
+of these amphor&aelig;, which sell sometimes as high as thirty
+francs apiece; told me how they were carried on donkeys, one on
+either side of the saddle, a brave caparison in themselves; and
+how they were to be seen all over the district, and at the larger
+farms in great number and of great size.</p>
+<h2><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+42</span>PONT-SUR-SAMBRE</h2>
+<h3>WE ARE PEDLARS</h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Cigarette</i> returned with
+good news.&nbsp; There were beds to be had some ten
+minutes&rsquo; walk from where we were, at a place called
+Pont.&nbsp; We stowed the canoes in a granary, and asked among
+the children for a guide.&nbsp; The circle at once widened round
+us, and our offers of reward were received in dispiriting
+silence.&nbsp; We were plainly a pair of Bluebeards to the
+children; they might speak to us in public places, and where they
+had the advantage of numbers; but it was another thing to venture
+off alone with two uncouth and legendary characters, who had
+dropped from the clouds upon their hamlet this quiet afternoon,
+sashed and be-knived, and with a flavour of great voyages.&nbsp;
+The owner of the granary came to our assistance, singled out one
+little fellow and threatened him with corporalities; or I suspect
+we should have had to find the way for ourselves.&nbsp; As it
+was, he was more frightened at the granary man than the
+strangers, having perhaps had some experience of the
+former.&nbsp; But I fancy his little heart must have been going
+at a fine rate; for he kept trotting at a respectful distance in
+front, and looking back at us with scared eyes.&nbsp; Not
+otherwise may the children of the young world have guided Jove or
+one of his Olympian compeers on an adventure.</p>
+<p>A miry lane led us up from Quartes with its church and
+bickering windmill.&nbsp; The hinds were trudging homewards from
+the fields.&nbsp; A brisk little woman passed us by.&nbsp; She
+was seated across a donkey between a pair of glittering
+milk-cans; and, as she went, she kicked jauntily with her heels
+upon the donkey&rsquo;s side, and scattered shrill remarks among
+the wayfarers.&nbsp; It was notable that none of the tired men
+took the trouble to reply.&nbsp; Our conductor soon led us out of
+the lane and across country.&nbsp; The sun had gone down, but the
+west in front of us was one lake of level gold.&nbsp; The path
+wandered a while in the open, and then passed under a trellis
+like a bower indefinitely prolonged.&nbsp; On either hand were
+shadowy orchards; cottages lay low among the leaves, and sent
+their smoke to heaven; every here and there, in an opening,
+appeared the great gold face of the west.</p>
+<p>I never saw the <i>Cigarette</i> in such an idyllic frame of
+mind.&nbsp; He waxed positively lyrical in praise of country
+scenes.&nbsp; I was little less exhilarated myself; the mild air
+of the evening, the shadows, the rich lights and the silence,
+made a symphonious accompaniment about our walk; and we both
+determined to avoid towns for the future and sleep in
+hamlets.</p>
+<p>At last the path went between two houses, and turned the party
+out into a wide muddy high-road, bordered, as far as the eye
+could reach on either hand, by an unsightly village.&nbsp; The
+houses stood well back, leaving a ribbon of waste land on either
+side of the road, where there were stacks of firewood, carts,
+barrows, rubbish-heaps, and a little doubtful grass.&nbsp; Away
+on the left, a gaunt tower stood in the middle of the
+street.&nbsp; What it had been in past ages, I know not: probably
+a hold in time of war; but now-a-days it bore an illegible
+dial-plate in its upper parts, and near the bottom an iron
+letter-box.</p>
+<p>The inn to which we had been recommended at Quartes was full,
+or else the landlady did not like our looks.&nbsp; I ought to
+say, that with our long, damp india-rubber bags, we presented
+rather a doubtful type of civilisation: like rag-and-bone men,
+the <i>Cigarette</i> imagined.&nbsp; &lsquo;These gentlemen are
+pedlars?&mdash;<i>Ces messieurs sont des
+marchands</i>?&rsquo;&mdash;asked the landlady.&nbsp; And then,
+without waiting for an answer, which I suppose she thought
+superfluous in so plain a case, recommended us to a butcher who
+lived hard by the tower, and took in travellers to lodge.</p>
+<p>Thither went we.&nbsp; But the butcher was flitting, and all
+his beds were taken down.&nbsp; Or else he didn&rsquo;t like our
+look.&nbsp; As a parting shot, we had &lsquo;These gentlemen are
+pedlars?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>It began to grow dark in earnest.&nbsp; We could no longer
+distinguish the faces of the people who passed us by with an
+inarticulate good-evening.&nbsp; And the householders of Pont
+seemed very economical with their oil; for we saw not a single
+window lighted in all that long village.&nbsp; I believe it is
+the longest village in the world; but I daresay in our
+predicament every pace counted three times over.&nbsp; We were
+much cast down when we came to the last auberge; and looking in
+at the dark door, asked timidly if we could sleep there for the
+night.&nbsp; A female voice assented in no very friendly
+tones.&nbsp; We clapped the bags down and found our way to
+chairs.</p>
+<p>The place was in total darkness, save a red glow in the chinks
+and ventilators of the stove.&nbsp; But now the landlady lit a
+lamp to see her new guests; I suppose the darkness was what saved
+us another expulsion; for I cannot say she looked gratified at
+our appearance.&nbsp; We were in a large bare apartment, adorned
+with two allegorical prints of Music and Painting, and a copy of
+the law against public drunkenness.&nbsp; On one side, there was
+a bit of a bar, with some half-a-dozen bottles.&nbsp; Two
+labourers sat waiting supper, in attitudes of extreme weariness;
+a plain-looking lass bustled about with a sleepy child of two;
+and the landlady began to derange the pots upon the stove, and
+set some beefsteak to grill.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;These gentlemen are pedlars?&rsquo; she asked
+sharply.&nbsp; And that was all the conversation
+forthcoming.&nbsp; We began to think we might be pedlars after
+all.&nbsp; I never knew a population with so narrow a range of
+conjecture as the innkeepers of Pont-sur-Sambre.&nbsp; But
+manners and bearing have not a wider currency than
+bank-notes.&nbsp; You have only to get far enough out of your
+beat, and all your accomplished airs will go for nothing.&nbsp;
+These Hainaulters could see no difference between us and the
+average pedlar.&nbsp; Indeed we had some grounds for reflection
+while the steak was getting ready, to see how perfectly they
+accepted us at their own valuation, and how our best politeness
+and best efforts at entertainment seemed to fit quite suitably
+with the character of packmen.&nbsp; At least it seemed a good
+account of the profession in France, that even before such judges
+we could not beat them at our own weapons.</p>
+<p>At last we were called to table.&nbsp; The two hinds (and one
+of them looked sadly worn and white in the face, as though sick
+with over-work and under-feeding) supped off a single plate of
+some sort of bread-berry, some potatoes in their jackets, a small
+cup of coffee sweetened with sugar-candy, and one tumbler of
+swipes.&nbsp; The landlady, her son, and the lass aforesaid, took
+the same.&nbsp; Our meal was quite a banquet by comparison.&nbsp;
+We had some beefsteak, not so tender as it might have been, some
+of the potatoes, some cheese, an extra glass of the swipes, and
+white sugar in our coffee.</p>
+<p>You see what it is to be a gentleman&mdash;I beg your pardon,
+what it is to be a pedlar.&nbsp; It had not before occurred to me
+that a pedlar was a great man in a labourer&rsquo;s ale-house;
+but now that I had to enact the part for an evening, I found that
+so it was.&nbsp; He has in his hedge quarters somewhat the same
+pre-eminency as the man who takes a private parlour in an
+hotel.&nbsp; The more you look into it, the more infinite are the
+class distinctions among men; and possibly, by a happy
+dispensation, there is no one at all at the bottom of the scale;
+no one but can find some superiority over somebody else, to keep
+up his pride withal.</p>
+<p>We were displeased enough with our fare.&nbsp; Particularly
+the <i>Cigarette</i>, for I tried to make believe that I was
+amused with the adventure, tough beefsteak and all.&nbsp;
+According to the Lucretian maxim, our steak should have been
+flavoured by the look of the other people&rsquo;s
+bread-berry.&nbsp; But we did not find it so in practice.&nbsp;
+You may have a head-knowledge that other people live more poorly
+than yourself, but it is not agreeable&mdash;I was going to say,
+it is against the etiquette of the universe&mdash;to sit at the
+same table and pick your own superior diet from among their
+crusts.&nbsp; I had not seen such a thing done since the greedy
+boy at school with his birthday cake.&nbsp; It was odious enough
+to witness, I could remember; and I had never thought to play the
+part myself.&nbsp; But there again you see what it is to be a
+pedlar.</p>
+<p>There is no doubt that the poorer classes in our country are
+much more charitably disposed than their superiors in
+wealth.&nbsp; And I fancy it must arise a great deal from the
+comparative indistinction of the easy and the not so easy in
+these ranks.&nbsp; A workman or a pedlar cannot shutter himself
+off from his less comfortable neighbours.&nbsp; If he treats
+himself to a luxury, he must do it in the face of a dozen who
+cannot.&nbsp; And what should more directly lead to charitable
+thoughts? . . . Thus the poor man, camping out in life, sees it
+as it is, and knows that every mouthful he puts in his belly has
+been wrenched out of the fingers of the hungry.</p>
+<p>But at a certain stage of prosperity, as in a balloon ascent,
+the fortunate person passes through a zone of clouds, and
+sublunary matters are thenceforward hidden from his view.&nbsp;
+He sees nothing but the heavenly bodies, all in admirable order,
+and positively as good as new.&nbsp; He finds himself surrounded
+in the most touching manner by the attentions of Providence, and
+compares himself involuntarily with the lilies and the
+skylarks.&nbsp; He does not precisely sing, of course; but then
+he looks so unassuming in his open landau!&nbsp; If all the world
+dined at one table, this philosophy would meet with some rude
+knocks.</p>
+<h3><a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>THE
+TRAVELLING MERCHANT</h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">Like</span> the lackeys in
+Moli&egrave;re&rsquo;s farce, when the true nobleman broke in on
+their high life below stairs, we were destined to be confronted
+with a real pedlar.&nbsp; To make the lesson still more poignant
+for fallen gentlemen like us, he was a pedlar of infinitely more
+consideration than the sort of scurvy fellows we were taken for:
+like a lion among mice, or a ship of war bearing down upon two
+cock-boats.&nbsp; Indeed, he did not deserve the name of pedlar
+at all: he was a travelling merchant.</p>
+<p>I suppose it was about half-past eight when this worthy,
+Monsieur Hector Gilliard of Maubeuge, turned up at the ale-house
+door in a tilt cart drawn by a donkey, and cried cheerily on the
+inhabitants.&nbsp; He was a lean, nervous flibbertigibbet of a
+man, with something the look of an actor, and something the look
+of a horse-jockey.&nbsp; He had evidently prospered without any
+of the favours of education; for he adhered with stern simplicity
+to the masculine gender, and in the course of the evening passed
+off some fancy futures in a very florid style of
+architecture.&nbsp; With him came his wife, a comely young woman
+with her hair tied in a yellow kerchief, and their son, a little
+fellow of four, in a blouse and military
+<i>k&eacute;pi</i>.&nbsp; It was notable that the child was many
+degrees better dressed than either of the parents.&nbsp; We were
+informed he was already at a boarding-school; but the holidays
+having just commenced, he was off to spend them with his parents
+on a cruise.&nbsp; An enchanting holiday occupation, was it not?
+to travel all day with father and mother in the tilt cart full of
+countless treasures; the green country rattling by on either
+side, and the children in all the villages contemplating him with
+envy and wonder?&nbsp; It is better fun, during the holidays, to
+be the son of a travelling merchant, than son and heir to the
+greatest cotton-spinner in creation.&nbsp; And as for being a
+reigning prince&mdash;indeed I never saw one if it was not Master
+Gilliard!</p>
+<p>While M. Hector and the son of the house were putting up the
+donkey, and getting all the valuables under lock and key, the
+landlady warmed up the remains of our beefsteak, and fried the
+cold potatoes in slices, and Madame Gilliard set herself to waken
+the boy, who had come far that day, and was peevish and dazzled
+by the light.&nbsp; He was no sooner awake than he began to
+prepare himself for supper by eating galette, unripe pears, and
+cold potatoes&mdash;with, so far as I could judge, positive
+benefit to his appetite.</p>
+<p>The landlady, fired with motherly emulation, awoke her own
+little girl; and the two children were confronted.&nbsp; Master
+Gilliard looked at her for a moment, very much as a dog looks at
+his own reflection in a mirror before he turns away.&nbsp; He was
+at that time absorbed in the galette.&nbsp; His mother seemed
+crestfallen that he should display so little inclination towards
+the other sex; and expressed her disappointment with some candour
+and a very proper reference to the influence of years.</p>
+<p>Sure enough a time will come when he will pay more attention
+to the girls, and think a great deal less of his mother: let us
+hope she will like it as well as she seemed to fancy.&nbsp; But
+it is odd enough; the very women who profess most contempt for
+mankind as a sex, seem to find even its ugliest particulars
+rather lively and high-minded in their own sons.</p>
+<p>The little girl looked longer and with more interest, probably
+because she was in her own house, while he was a traveller and
+accustomed to strange sights.&nbsp; And besides there was no
+galette in the case with her.</p>
+<p>All the time of supper, there was nothing spoken of but my
+young lord.&nbsp; The two parents were both absurdly fond of
+their child.&nbsp; Monsieur kept insisting on his sagacity: how
+he knew all the children at school by name; and when this utterly
+failed on trial, how he was cautious and exact to a strange
+degree, and if asked anything, he would sit and think&mdash;and
+think, and if he did not know it, &lsquo;my faith, he
+wouldn&rsquo;t tell you at all&mdash;<i>foi</i>, <i>il ne vous le
+dira pas</i>&rsquo;: which is certainly a very high degree of
+caution.&nbsp; At intervals, M. Hector would appeal to his wife,
+with his mouth full of beefsteak, as to the little fellow&rsquo;s
+age at such or such a time when he had said or done something
+memorable; and I noticed that Madame usually pooh-poohed these
+inquiries.&nbsp; She herself was not boastful in her vein; but
+she never had her fill of caressing the child; and she seemed to
+take a gentle pleasure in recalling all that was fortunate in his
+little existence.&nbsp; No schoolboy could have talked more of
+the holidays which were just beginning and less of the black
+school-time which must inevitably follow after.&nbsp; She showed,
+with a pride perhaps partly mercantile in origin, his pockets
+preposterously swollen with tops and whistles and string.&nbsp;
+When she called at a house in the way of business, it appeared he
+kept her company; and whenever a sale was made, received a sou
+out of the profit.&nbsp; Indeed they spoiled him vastly, these
+two good people.&nbsp; But they had an eye to his manners for all
+that, and reproved him for some little faults in breeding, which
+occurred from time to time during supper.</p>
+<p>On the whole, I was not much hurt at being taken for a
+pedlar.&nbsp; I might think that I ate with greater delicacy, or
+that my mistakes in French belonged to a different order; but it
+was plain that these distinctions would be thrown away upon the
+landlady and the two labourers.&nbsp; In all essential things we
+and the Gilliards cut very much the same figure in the ale-house
+kitchen.&nbsp; M. Hector was more at home, indeed, and took a
+higher tone with the world; but that was explicable on the ground
+of his driving a donkey-cart, while we poor bodies tramped
+afoot.&nbsp; I daresay, the rest of the company thought us dying
+with envy, though in no ill sense, to be as far up in the
+profession as the new arrival.</p>
+<p>And of one thing I am sure: that every one thawed and became
+more humanised and conversible as soon as these innocent people
+appeared upon the scene.&nbsp; I would not very readily trust the
+travelling merchant with any extravagant sum of money; but I am
+sure his heart was in the right place.&nbsp; In this mixed world,
+if you can find one or two sensible places in a man&mdash;above
+all, if you should find a whole family living together on such
+pleasant terms&mdash;you may surely be satisfied, and take the
+rest for granted; or, what is a great deal better, boldly make up
+your mind that you can do perfectly well without the rest; and
+that ten thousand bad traits cannot make a single good one any
+the less good.</p>
+<p>It was getting late.&nbsp; M. Hector lit a stable lantern and
+went off to his cart for some arrangements; and my young
+gentleman proceeded to divest himself of the better part of his
+raiment, and play gymnastics on his mother&rsquo;s lap, and
+thence on to the floor, with accompaniment of laughter.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Are you going to sleep alone?&rsquo; asked the servant
+lass.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There&rsquo;s little fear of that,&rsquo; says Master
+Gilliard.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You sleep alone at school,&rsquo; objected his
+mother.&nbsp; &lsquo;Come, come, you must be a man.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>But he protested that school was a different matter from the
+holidays; that there were dormitories at school; and silenced the
+discussion with kisses: his mother smiling, no one better pleased
+than she.</p>
+<p>There certainly was, as he phrased it, very little fear that
+he should sleep alone; for there was but one bed for the
+trio.&nbsp; We, on our part, had firmly protested against one
+man&rsquo;s accommodation for two; and we had a double-bedded pen
+in the loft of the house, furnished, beside the beds, with
+exactly three hat-pegs and one table.&nbsp; There was not so much
+as a glass of water.&nbsp; But the window would open, by good
+fortune.</p>
+<p>Some time before I fell asleep the loft was full of the sound
+of mighty snoring: the Gilliards, and the labourers, and the
+people of the inn, all at it, I suppose, with one consent.&nbsp;
+The young moon outside shone very clearly over Pont-sur-Sambre,
+and down upon the ale-house where all we pedlars were abed.</p>
+<h2><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>ON THE
+SAMBRE CANALISED: TO LANDRECIES</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the morning, when we came
+downstairs, the landlady pointed out to us two pails of water
+behind the street-door.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>Voil&agrave; de
+l&rsquo;eau pour vous d&eacute;barbouiller</i>,&rsquo; says
+she.&nbsp; And so there we made a shift to wash ourselves, while
+Madame Gilliard brushed the family boots on the outer doorstep,
+and M. Hector, whistling cheerily, arranged some small goods for
+the day&rsquo;s campaign in a portable chest of drawers, which
+formed a part of his baggage.&nbsp; Meanwhile the child was
+letting off Waterloo crackers all over the floor.</p>
+<p>I wonder, by-the-bye, what they call Waterloo crackers in
+France; perhaps Austerlitz crackers.&nbsp; There is a great deal
+in the point of view.&nbsp; Do you remember the Frenchman who,
+travelling by way of Southampton, was put down in Waterloo
+Station, and had to drive across Waterloo Bridge?&nbsp; He had a
+mind to go home again, it seems.</p>
+<p>Pont itself is on the river, but whereas it is ten
+minutes&rsquo; walk from Quartes by dry land, it is six weary
+kilometres by water.&nbsp; We left our bags at the inn, and
+walked to our canoes through the wet orchards unencumbered.&nbsp;
+Some of the children were there to see us off, but we were no
+longer the mysterious beings of the night before.&nbsp; A
+departure is much less romantic than an unexplained arrival in
+the golden evening.&nbsp; Although we might be greatly taken at a
+ghost&rsquo;s first appearance, we should behold him vanish with
+comparative equanimity.</p>
+<p>The good folk of the inn at Pont, when we called there for the
+bags, were overcome with marvelling.&nbsp; At sight of these two
+dainty little boats, with a fluttering Union Jack on each, and
+all the varnish shining from the sponge, they began to perceive
+that they had entertained angels unawares.&nbsp; The landlady
+stood upon the bridge, probably lamenting she had charged so
+little; the son ran to and fro, and called out the neighbours to
+enjoy the sight; and we paddled away from quite a crowd of wrapt
+observers.&nbsp; These gentlemen pedlars, indeed!&nbsp; Now you
+see their quality too late.</p>
+<p>The whole day was showery, with occasional drenching
+plumps.&nbsp; We were soaked to the skin, then partially dried in
+the sun, then soaked once more.&nbsp; But there were some calm
+intervals, and one notably, when we were skirting the forest of
+Mormal, a sinister name to the ear, but a place most gratifying
+to sight and smell.&nbsp; It looked solemn along the river-side,
+drooping its boughs into the water, and piling them up aloft into
+a wall of leaves.&nbsp; What is a forest but a city of
+nature&rsquo;s own, full of hardy and innocuous living things,
+where there is nothing dead and nothing made with the hands, but
+the citizens themselves are the houses and public
+monuments?&nbsp; There is nothing so much alive, and yet so
+quiet, as a woodland; and a pair of people, swinging past in
+canoes, feel very small and bustling by comparison.</p>
+<p>And surely of all smells in the world, the smell of many trees
+is the sweetest and most fortifying.&nbsp; The sea has a rude,
+pistolling sort of odour, that takes you in the nostrils like
+snuff, and carries with it a fine sentiment of open water and
+tall ships; but the smell of a forest, which comes nearest to
+this in tonic quality, surpasses it by many degrees in the
+quality of softness.&nbsp; Again, the smell of the sea has little
+variety, but the smell of a forest is infinitely changeful; it
+varies with the hour of the day, not in strength merely, but in
+character; and the different sorts of trees, as you go from one
+zone of the wood to another, seem to live among different kinds
+of atmosphere.&nbsp; Usually the resin of the fir
+predominates.&nbsp; But some woods are more coquettish in their
+habits; and the breath of the forest of Mormal, as it came aboard
+upon us that showery afternoon, was perfumed with nothing less
+delicate than sweetbrier.</p>
+<p>I wish our way had always lain among woods.&nbsp; Trees are
+the most civil society.&nbsp; An old oak that has been growing
+where he stands since before the Reformation, taller than many
+spires, more stately than the greater part of mountains, and yet
+a living thing, liable to sicknesses and death, like you and me:
+is not that in itself a speaking lesson in history?&nbsp; But
+acres on acres full of such patriarchs contiguously rooted, their
+green tops billowing in the wind, their stalwart younglings
+pushing up about their knees: a whole forest, healthy and
+beautiful, giving colour to the light, giving perfume to the air:
+what is this but the most imposing piece in nature&rsquo;s
+repertory?&nbsp; Heine wished to lie like Merlin under the oaks
+of Broceliande.&nbsp; I should not be satisfied with one tree;
+but if the wood grew together like a banyan grove, I would be
+buried under the tap-root of the whole; my parts should circulate
+from oak to oak; and my consciousness should be diffused abroad
+in all the forest, and give a common heart to that assembly of
+green spires, so that it also might rejoice in its own loveliness
+and dignity.&nbsp; I think I feel a thousand squirrels leaping
+from bough to bough in my vast mausoleum; and the birds and the
+winds merrily coursing over its uneven, leafy surface.</p>
+<p>Alas! the forest of Mormal is only a little bit of a wood, and
+it was but for a little way that we skirted by its
+boundaries.&nbsp; And the rest of the time the rain kept coming
+in squirts and the wind in squalls, until one&rsquo;s heart grew
+weary of such fitful, scolding weather.&nbsp; It was odd how the
+showers began when we had to carry the boats over a lock, and
+must expose our legs.&nbsp; They always did.&nbsp; This is a sort
+of thing that readily begets a personal feeling against
+nature.&nbsp; There seems no reason why the shower should not
+come five minutes before or five minutes after, unless you
+suppose an intention to affront you.&nbsp; The <i>Cigarette</i>
+had a mackintosh which put him more or less above these
+contrarieties.&nbsp; But I had to bear the brunt uncovered.&nbsp;
+I began to remember that nature was a woman.&nbsp; My companion,
+in a rosier temper, listened with great satisfaction to my
+Jeremiads, and ironically concurred.&nbsp; He instanced, as a
+cognate matter, the action of the tides, &lsquo;which,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;was altogether designed for the confusion of
+canoeists, except in so far as it was calculated to minister to a
+barren vanity on the part of the moon.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>At the last lock, some little way out of Landrecies, I refused
+to go any farther; and sat in a drift of rain by the side of the
+bank, to have a reviving pipe.&nbsp; A vivacious old man, whom I
+take to have been the devil, drew near and questioned me about
+our journey.&nbsp; In the fulness of my heart, I laid bare our
+plans before him.&nbsp; He said it was the silliest enterprise
+that ever he heard of.&nbsp; Why, did I not know, he asked me,
+that it was nothing but locks, locks, locks, the whole way? not
+to mention that, at this season of the year, we should find the
+Oise quite dry?&nbsp; &lsquo;Get into a train, my little young
+man,&rsquo; said he, I and go you away home to your
+parents.&rsquo;&nbsp; I was so astounded at the man&rsquo;s
+malice, that I could only stare at him in silence.&nbsp; A tree
+would never have spoken to me like this.&nbsp; At last I got out
+with some words.&nbsp; We had come from Antwerp already, I told
+him, which was a good long way; and we should do the rest in
+spite of him.&nbsp; Yes, I said, if there were no other reason, I
+would do it now, just because he had dared to say we could
+not.&nbsp; The pleasant old gentleman looked at me sneeringly,
+made an allusion to my canoe, and marched of, waggling his
+head.</p>
+<p>I was still inwardly fuming, when up came a pair of young
+fellows, who imagined I was the <i>Cigarette&rsquo;s</i> servant,
+on a comparison, I suppose, of my bare jersey with the
+other&rsquo;s mackintosh, and asked me many questions about my
+place and my master&rsquo;s character.&nbsp; I said he was a good
+enough fellow, but had this absurd voyage on the head.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;O no, no,&rsquo; said one, &lsquo;you must not say that;
+it is not absurd; it is very courageous of him.&rsquo;&nbsp; I
+believe these were a couple of angels sent to give me heart
+again.&nbsp; It was truly fortifying to reproduce all the old
+man&rsquo;s insinuations, as if they were original to me in my
+character of a malcontent footman, and have them brushed away
+like so many flies by these admirable young men.</p>
+<p>When I recounted this affair to the <i>Cigarette</i>,
+&lsquo;They must have a curious idea of how English servants
+behave,&rsquo; says he dryly, &lsquo;for you treated me like a
+brute beast at the lock.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I was a good deal mortified; but my temper had suffered, it is
+a fact.</p>
+<h2><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 67</span>AT
+LANDRECIES</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">At</span> Landrecies the rain still fell
+and the wind still blew; but we found a double-bedded room with
+plenty of furniture, real water-jugs with real water in them, and
+dinner: a real dinner, not innocent of real wine.&nbsp; After
+having been a pedlar for one night, and a butt for the elements
+during the whole of the next day, these comfortable circumstances
+fell on my heart like sunshine.&nbsp; There was an English
+fruiterer at dinner, travelling with a Belgian fruiterer; in the
+evening at the <i>caf&eacute;</i>, we watched our compatriot drop
+a good deal of money at corks; and I don&rsquo;t know why, but
+this pleased us.</p>
+<p>It turned out we were to see more of Landrecies than we
+expected; for the weather next day was simply bedlamite.&nbsp; It
+is not the place one would have chosen for a day&rsquo;s rest;
+for it consists almost entirely of fortifications.&nbsp; Within
+the ramparts, a few blocks of houses, a long row of barracks, and
+a church, figure, with what countenance they may, as the
+town.&nbsp; There seems to be no trade; and a shopkeeper from
+whom I bought a sixpenny flint-and-steel, was so much affected
+that he filled my pockets with spare flints into the
+bargain.&nbsp; The only public buildings that had any interest
+for us were the hotel and the <i>caf&eacute;</i>.&nbsp; But we
+visited the church.&nbsp; There lies Marshal Clarke.&nbsp; But as
+neither of us had ever heard of that military hero, we bore the
+associations of the spot with fortitude.</p>
+<p>In all garrison towns, guard-calls, and
+<i>r&eacute;veilles</i>, and such like, make a fine romantic
+interlude in civic business.&nbsp; Bugles, and drums, and fifes,
+are of themselves most excellent things in nature; and when they
+carry the mind to marching armies, and the picturesque
+vicissitudes of war, they stir up something proud in the
+heart.&nbsp; But in a shadow of a town like Landrecies, with
+little else moving, these points of war made a proportionate
+commotion.&nbsp; Indeed, they were the only things to
+remember.&nbsp; It was just the place to hear the round going by
+at night in the darkness, with the solid tramp of men marching,
+and the startling reverberations of the drum.&nbsp; It reminded
+you, that even this place was a point in the great warfaring
+system of Europe, and might on some future day be ringed about
+with cannon smoke and thunder, and make itself a name among
+strong towns.</p>
+<p>The drum, at any rate, from its martial voice and notable
+physiological effect, nay, even from its cumbrous and comical
+shape, stands alone among the instruments of noise.&nbsp; And if
+it be true, as I have heard it said, that drums are covered with
+asses&rsquo; skin, what a picturesque irony is there in
+that!&nbsp; As if this long-suffering animal&rsquo;s hide had not
+been sufficiently belaboured during life, now by Lyonnese
+costermongers, now by presumptuous Hebrew prophets, it must be
+stripped from his poor hinder quarters after death, stretched on
+a drum, and beaten night after night round the streets of every
+garrison town in Europe.&nbsp; And up the heights of Alma and
+Spicheren, and wherever death has his red flag a-flying, and
+sounds his own potent tuck upon the cannons, there also must the
+drummer-boy, hurrying with white face over fallen comrades,
+batter and bemaul this slip of skin from the loins of peaceable
+donkeys.</p>
+<p>Generally a man is never more uselessly employed than when he
+is at this trick of bastinadoing asses&rsquo; hide.&nbsp; We know
+what effect it has in life, and how your dull ass will not mend
+his pace with beating.&nbsp; But in this state of mummy and
+melancholy survival of itself, when the hollow skin reverberates
+to the drummer&rsquo;s wrist, and each dub-a-dub goes direct to a
+man&rsquo;s heart, and puts madness there, and that disposition
+of the pulses which we, in our big way of talking, nickname
+Heroism:&mdash;is there not something in the nature of a revenge
+upon the donkey&rsquo;s persecutors?&nbsp; Of old, he might say,
+you drubbed me up hill and down dale, and I must endure; but now
+that I am dead, those dull thwacks that were scarcely audible in
+country lanes, have become stirring music in front of the
+brigade; and for every blow that you lay on my old greatcoat, you
+will see a comrade stumble and fall.</p>
+<p>Not long after the drums had passed the <i>caf&eacute;</i>,
+the <i>Cigarette</i> and the <i>Arethusa</i> began to grow
+sleepy, and set out for the hotel, which was only a door or two
+away.&nbsp; But although we had been somewhat indifferent to
+Landrecies, Landrecies had not been indifferent to us.&nbsp; All
+day, we learned, people had been running out between the squalls
+to visit our two boats.&nbsp; Hundreds of persons, so said
+report, although it fitted ill with our idea of the
+town&mdash;hundreds of persons had inspected them where they lay
+in a coal-shed.&nbsp; We were becoming lions in Landrecies, who
+had been only pedlars the night before in Pont.</p>
+<p>And now, when we left the <i>caf&eacute;</i>, we were pursued
+and overtaken at the hotel door by no less a person than the
+<i>Juge de Paix</i>: a functionary, as far as I can make out, of
+the character of a Scots Sheriff-Substitute.&nbsp; He gave us his
+card and invited us to sup with him on the spot, very neatly,
+very gracefully, as Frenchmen can do these things.&nbsp; It was
+for the credit of Landrecies, said he; and although we knew very
+well how little credit we could do the place, we must have been
+churlish fellows to refuse an invitation so politely
+introduced.</p>
+<p>The house of the Judge was close by; it was a well-appointed
+bachelor&rsquo;s establishment, with a curious collection of old
+brass warming-pans upon the walls.&nbsp; Some of these were most
+elaborately carved.&nbsp; It seemed a picturesque idea for a
+collector.&nbsp; You could not help thinking how many night-caps
+had wagged over these warming-pans in past generations; what
+jests may have been made, and kisses taken, while they were in
+service; and how often they had been uselessly paraded in the bed
+of death.&nbsp; If they could only speak, at what absurd,
+indecorous, and tragical scenes had they not been present!</p>
+<p>The wine was excellent.&nbsp; When we made the Judge our
+compliments upon a bottle, &lsquo;I do not give it you as my
+worst,&rsquo; said he.&nbsp; I wonder when Englishmen will learn
+these hospitable graces.&nbsp; They are worth learning; they set
+off life, and make ordinary moments ornamental.</p>
+<p>There were two other Landrecienses present.&nbsp; One was the
+collector of something or other, I forget what; the other, we
+were told, was the principal notary of the place.&nbsp; So it
+happened that we all five more or less followed the law.&nbsp; At
+this rate, the talk was pretty certain to become technical.&nbsp;
+The <i>Cigarette</i> expounded the Poor Laws very
+magisterially.&nbsp; And a little later I found myself laying
+down the Scots Law of Illegitimacy, of which I am glad to say I
+know nothing.&nbsp; The collector and the notary, who were both
+married men, accused the Judge, who was a bachelor, of having
+started the subject.&nbsp; He deprecated the charge, with a
+conscious, pleased air, just like all the men I have ever seen,
+be they French or English.&nbsp; How strange that we should all,
+in our unguarded moments, rather like to be thought a bit of a
+rogue with the women!</p>
+<p>As the evening went on, the wine grew more to my taste; the
+spirits proved better than the wine; the company was
+genial.&nbsp; This was the highest water mark of popular favour
+on the whole cruise.&nbsp; After all, being in a Judge&rsquo;s
+house, was there not something semi-official in the
+tribute?&nbsp; And so, remembering what a great country France
+is, we did full justice to our entertainment.&nbsp; Landrecies
+had been a long while asleep before we returned to the hotel; and
+the sentries on the ramparts were already looking for
+daybreak.</p>
+<h2><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 75</span>SAMBRE
+AND OISE CANAL: CANAL BOATS</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> day we made a late start in
+the rain.&nbsp; The Judge politely escorted us to the end of the
+lock under an umbrella.&nbsp; We had now brought ourselves to a
+pitch of humility in the matter of weather, not often attained
+except in the Scottish Highlands.&nbsp; A rag of blue sky or a
+glimpse of sunshine set our hearts singing; and when the rain was
+not heavy, we counted the day almost fair.</p>
+<p>Long lines of barges lay one after another along the canal;
+many of them looking mighty spruce and shipshape in their jerkin
+of Archangel tar picked out with white and green.&nbsp; Some
+carried gay iron railings, and quite a parterre of
+flower-pots.&nbsp; Children played on the decks, as heedless of
+the rain as if they had been brought up on Loch Carron side; men
+fished over the gunwale, some of them under umbrellas; women did
+their washing; and every barge boasted its mongrel cur by way of
+watch-dog.&nbsp; Each one barked furiously at the canoes, running
+alongside until he had got to the end of his own ship, and so
+passing on the word to the dog aboard the next.&nbsp; We must
+have seen something like a hundred of these embarkations in the
+course of that day&rsquo;s paddle, ranged one after another like
+the houses in a street; and from not one of them were we
+disappointed of this accompaniment.&nbsp; It was like visiting a
+menagerie, the <i>Cigarette</i> remarked.</p>
+<p>These little cities by the canal side had a very odd effect
+upon the mind.&nbsp; They seemed, with their flower-pots and
+smoking chimneys, their washings and dinners, a rooted piece of
+nature in the scene; and yet if only the canal below were to
+open, one junk after another would hoist sail or harness horses
+and swim away into all parts of France; and the impromptu hamlet
+would separate, house by house, to the four winds.&nbsp; The
+children who played together to-day by the Sambre and Oise Canal,
+each at his own father&rsquo;s threshold, when and where might
+they next meet?</p>
+<p>For some time past the subject of barges had occupied a great
+deal of our talk, and we had projected an old age on the canals
+of Europe.&nbsp; It was to be the most leisurely of progresses,
+now on a swift river at the tail of a steam-boat, now waiting
+horses for days together on some inconsiderable junction.&nbsp;
+We should be seen pottering on deck in all the dignity of years,
+our white beards falling into our laps.&nbsp; We were ever to be
+busied among paint-pots; so that there should be no white
+fresher, and no green more emerald than ours, in all the navy of
+the canals.&nbsp; There should be books in the cabin, and
+tobacco-jars, and some old Burgundy as red as a November sunset
+and as odorous as a violet in April.&nbsp; There should be a
+flageolet, whence the <i>Cigarette</i>, with cunning touch,
+should draw melting music under the stars; or perhaps, laying
+that aside, upraise his voice&mdash;somewhat thinner than of
+yore, and with here and there a quaver, or call it a natural
+grace-note&mdash;in rich and solemn psalmody.</p>
+<p>All this, simmering in my mind, set me wishing to go aboard
+one of these ideal houses of lounging.&nbsp; I had plenty to
+choose from, as I coasted one after another, and the dogs bayed
+at me for a vagrant.&nbsp; At last I saw a nice old man and his
+wife looking at me with some interest, so I gave them good-day
+and pulled up alongside.&nbsp; I began with a remark upon their
+dog, which had somewhat the look of a pointer; thence I slid into
+a compliment on Madame&rsquo;s flowers, and thence into a word in
+praise of their way of life.</p>
+<p>If you ventured on such an experiment in England you would get
+a slap in the face at once.&nbsp; The life would be shown to be a
+vile one, not without a side shot at your better fortune.&nbsp;
+Now, what I like so much in France is the clear unflinching
+recognition by everybody of his own luck.&nbsp; They all know on
+which side their bread is buttered, and take a pleasure in
+showing it to others, which is surely the better part of
+religion.&nbsp; And they scorn to make a poor mouth over their
+poverty, which I take to be the better part of manliness.&nbsp; I
+have heard a woman in quite a better position at home, with a
+good bit of money in hand, refer to her own child with a horrid
+whine as &lsquo;a poor man&rsquo;s child.&rsquo;&nbsp; I would
+not say such a thing to the Duke of Westminster.&nbsp; And the
+French are full of this spirit of independence.&nbsp; Perhaps it
+is the result of republican institutions, as they call
+them.&nbsp; Much more likely it is because there are so few
+people really poor, that the whiners are not enough to keep each
+other in countenance.</p>
+<p>The people on the barge were delighted to hear that I admired
+their state.&nbsp; They understood perfectly well, they told me,
+how Monsieur envied them.&nbsp; Without doubt Monsieur was rich;
+and in that case he might make a canal boat as pretty as a
+villa&mdash;<i>joli comme un ch&acirc;teau</i>.&nbsp; And with
+that they invited me on board their own water villa.&nbsp; They
+apologised for their cabin; they had not been rich enough to make
+it as it ought to be.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The fire should have been here, at this side,&rsquo;
+explained the husband.&nbsp; &lsquo;Then one might have a
+writing-table in the middle&mdash;books&mdash;and&rsquo;
+(comprehensively) &lsquo;all.&nbsp; It would be quite
+coquettish&mdash;<i>&ccedil;a serait tout-&agrave;-fait
+coquet</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; And he looked about him as though the
+improvements were already made.&nbsp; It was plainly not the
+first time that he had thus beautified his cabin in imagination;
+and when next he makes a bit, I should expect to see the
+writing-table in the middle.</p>
+<p>Madame had three birds in a cage.&nbsp; They were no great
+thing, she explained.&nbsp; Fine birds were so dear.&nbsp; They
+had sought to get a <i>Hollandais</i> last winter in Rouen
+(Rouen? thought I; and is this whole mansion, with its dogs and
+birds and smoking chimneys, so far a traveller as that? and as
+homely an object among the cliffs and orchards of the Seine as on
+the green plains of Sambre?)&mdash;they had sought to get a
+<i>Hollandais</i> last winter in Rouen; but these cost fifteen
+francs apiece&mdash;picture it&mdash;fifteen francs!</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>Pour un tout petit oiseau</i>&mdash;For quite a
+little bird,&rsquo; added the husband.</p>
+<p>As I continued to admire, the apologetics died away, and the
+good people began to brag of their barge, and their happy
+condition in life, as if they had been Emperor and Empress of the
+Indies.&nbsp; It was, in the Scots phrase, a good hearing, and
+put me in good humour with the world.&nbsp; If people knew what
+an inspiriting thing it is to hear a man boasting, so long as he
+boasts of what he really has, I believe they would do it more
+freely and with a better grace.</p>
+<p>They began to ask about our voyage.&nbsp; You should have seen
+how they sympathised.&nbsp; They seemed half ready to give up
+their barge and follow us.&nbsp; But these <i>canaletti</i> are
+only gypsies semi-domesticated.&nbsp; The semi-domestication came
+out in rather a pretty form.&nbsp; Suddenly Madam&rsquo;s brow
+darkened.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>Cependant</i>,&rsquo; she began, and
+then stopped; and then began again by asking me if I were
+single?</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said I.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And your friend who went by just now?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>He also was unmarried.</p>
+<p>O then&mdash;all was well.&nbsp; She could not have wives left
+alone at home; but since there were no wives in the question, we
+were doing the best we could.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To see about one in the world,&rsquo; said the husband,
+&lsquo;<i>il n&rsquo;y a que &ccedil;a</i>&mdash;there is nothing
+else worth while.&nbsp; A man, look you, who sticks in his own
+village like a bear,&rsquo; he went on, &lsquo;&mdash;very well,
+he sees nothing.&nbsp; And then death is the end of all.&nbsp;
+And he has seen nothing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Madame reminded her husband of an Englishman who had come up
+this canal in a steamer.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Perhaps Mr. Moens in the <i>Ytene</i>,&rsquo; I
+suggested.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;That&rsquo;s it,&rsquo; assented the husband.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;He had his wife and family with him, and servants.&nbsp;
+He came ashore at all the locks and asked the name of the
+villages, whether from boatmen or lock-keepers; and then he
+wrote, wrote them down.&nbsp; Oh, he wrote enormously!&nbsp; I
+suppose it was a wager.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>A wager was a common enough explanation for our own exploits,
+but it seemed an original reason for taking notes.</p>
+<h2><a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 83</span>THE
+OISE IN FLOOD</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> nine next morning the two
+canoes were installed on a light country cart at &Eacute;treux:
+and we were soon following them along the side of a pleasant
+valley full of hop-gardens and poplars.&nbsp; Agreeable villages
+lay here and there on the slope of the hill; notably, Tupigny,
+with the hop-poles hanging their garlands in the very street, and
+the houses clustered with grapes.&nbsp; There was a faint
+enthusiasm on our passage; weavers put their heads to the
+windows; children cried out in ecstasy at sight of the two
+&lsquo;boaties&rsquo;&mdash;<i>barguettes</i>: and bloused
+pedestrians, who were acquainted with our charioteer, jested with
+him on the nature of his freight.</p>
+<p>We had a shower or two, but light and flying.&nbsp; The air
+was clean and sweet among all these green fields and green things
+growing.&nbsp; There was not a touch of autumn in the
+weather.&nbsp; And when, at Vadencourt, we launched from a little
+lawn opposite a mill, the sun broke forth and set all the leaves
+shining in the valley of the Oise.</p>
+<p>The river was swollen with the long rains.&nbsp; From
+Vadencourt all the way to Origny, it ran with ever-quickening
+speed, taking fresh heart at each mile, and racing as though it
+already smelt the sea.&nbsp; The water was yellow and turbulent,
+swung with an angry eddy among half-submerged willows, and made
+an angry clatter along stony shores.&nbsp; The course kept
+turning and turning in a narrow and well-timbered valley.&nbsp;
+Now the river would approach the side, and run griding along the
+chalky base of the hill, and show us a few open colza-fields
+among the trees.&nbsp; Now it would skirt the garden-walls of
+houses, where we might catch a glimpse through a doorway, and see
+a priest pacing in the chequered sunlight.&nbsp; Again, the
+foliage closed so thickly in front, that there seemed to be no
+issue; only a thicket of willows, overtopped by elms and poplars,
+under which the river ran flush and fleet, and where a kingfisher
+flew past like a piece of the blue sky.&nbsp; On these different
+manifestations the sun poured its clear and catholic looks.&nbsp;
+The shadows lay as solid on the swift surface of the stream as on
+the stable meadows.&nbsp; The light sparkled golden in the
+dancing poplar leaves, and brought the hills into communion with
+our eyes.&nbsp; And all the while the river never stopped running
+or took breath; and the reeds along the whole valley stood
+shivering from top to toe.</p>
+<p>There should be some myth (but if there is, I know it not)
+founded on the shivering of the reeds.&nbsp; There are not many
+things in nature more striking to man&rsquo;s eye.&nbsp; It is
+such an eloquent pantomime of terror; and to see such a number of
+terrified creatures taking sanctuary in every nook along the
+shore, is enough to infect a silly human with alarm.&nbsp;
+Perhaps they are only a-cold, and no wonder, standing waist-deep
+in the stream.&nbsp; Or perhaps they have never got accustomed to
+the speed and fury of the river&rsquo;s flux, or the miracle of
+its continuous body.&nbsp; Pan once played upon their
+forefathers; and so, by the hands of his river, he still plays
+upon these later generations down all the valley of the Oise; and
+plays the same air, both sweet and shrill, to tell us of the
+beauty and the terror of the world.</p>
+<p>The canoe was like a leaf in the current.&nbsp; It took it up
+and shook it, and carried it masterfully away, like a Centaur
+carrying off a nymph.&nbsp; To keep some command on our direction
+required hard and diligent plying of the paddle.&nbsp; The river
+was in such a hurry for the sea!&nbsp; Every drop of water ran in
+a panic, like as many people in a frightened crowd.&nbsp; But
+what crowd was ever so numerous, or so single-minded?&nbsp; All
+the objects of sight went by at a dance measure; the eyesight
+raced with the racing river; the exigencies of every moment kept
+the pegs screwed so tight, that our being quivered like a
+well-tuned instrument; and the blood shook off its lethargy, and
+trotted through all the highways and byways of the veins and
+arteries, and in and out of the heart, as if circulation were but
+a holiday journey, and not the daily moil of threescore years and
+ten.&nbsp; The reeds might nod their heads in warning, and with
+tremulous gestures tell how the river was as cruel as it was
+strong and cold, and how death lurked in the eddy underneath the
+willows.&nbsp; But the reeds had to stand where they were; and
+those who stand still are always timid advisers.&nbsp; As for us,
+we could have shouted aloud.&nbsp; If this lively and beautiful
+river were, indeed, a thing of death&rsquo;s contrivance, the old
+ashen rogue had famously outwitted himself with us.&nbsp; I was
+living three to the minute.&nbsp; I was scoring points against
+him every stroke of my paddle, every turn of the stream.&nbsp; I
+have rarely had better profit of my life.</p>
+<p>For I think we may look upon our little private war with death
+somewhat in this light.&nbsp; If a man knows he will sooner or
+later be robbed upon a journey, he will have a bottle of the best
+in every inn, and look upon all his extravagances as so much
+gained upon the thieves.&nbsp; And above all, where instead of
+simply spending, he makes a profitable investment for some of his
+money, when it will be out of risk of loss.&nbsp; So every bit of
+brisk living, and above all when it is healthful, is just so much
+gained upon the wholesale filcher, death.&nbsp; We shall have the
+less in our pockets, the more in our stomach, when he cries stand
+and deliver.&nbsp; A swift stream is a favourite artifice of his,
+and one that brings him in a comfortable thing per annum; but
+when he and I come to settle our accounts, I shall whistle in his
+face for these hours upon the upper Oise.</p>
+<p>Towards afternoon we got fairly drunken with the sunshine and
+the exhilaration of the pace.&nbsp; We could no longer contain
+ourselves and our content.&nbsp; The canoes were too small for
+us; we must be out and stretch ourselves on shore.&nbsp; And so
+in a green meadow we bestowed our limbs on the grass, and smoked
+deifying tobacco and proclaimed the world excellent.&nbsp; It was
+the last good hour of the day, and I dwell upon it with extreme
+complacency.</p>
+<p>On one side of the valley, high up on the chalky summit of the
+hill, a ploughman with his team appeared and disappeared at
+regular intervals.&nbsp; At each revelation he stood still for a
+few seconds against the sky: for all the world (as the
+<i>Cigarette</i> declared) like a toy Burns who should have just
+ploughed up the Mountain Daisy.&nbsp; He was the only living
+thing within view, unless we are to count the river.</p>
+<p>On the other side of the valley a group of red roofs and a
+belfry showed among the foliage.&nbsp; Thence some inspired
+bell-ringer made the afternoon musical on a chime of bells.&nbsp;
+There was something very sweet and taking in the air he played;
+and we thought we had never heard bells speak so intelligibly, or
+sing so melodiously, as these.&nbsp; It must have been to some
+such measure that the spinners and the young maids sang,
+&lsquo;Come away, Death,&rsquo; in the Shakespearian
+Illyria.&nbsp; There is so often a threatening note, something
+blatant and metallic, in the voice of bells, that I believe we
+have fully more pain than pleasure from hearing them; but these,
+as they sounded abroad, now high, now low, now with a plaintive
+cadence that caught the ear like the burthen of a popular song,
+were always moderate and tunable, and seemed to fall in with the
+spirit of still, rustic places, like the noise of a waterfall or
+the babble of a rookery in spring.&nbsp; I could have asked the
+bell-ringer for his blessing, good, sedate old man, who swung the
+rope so gently to the time of his meditations.&nbsp; I could have
+blessed the priest or the heritors, or whoever may be concerned
+with such affairs in France, who had left these sweet old bells
+to gladden the afternoon, and not held meetings, and made
+collections, and had their names repeatedly printed in the local
+paper, to rig up a peal of brand-new, brazen, Birmingham-hearted
+substitutes, who should bombard their sides to the provocation of
+a brand-new bell-ringer, and fill the echoes of the valley with
+terror and riot.</p>
+<p>At last the bells ceased, and with their note the sun
+withdrew.&nbsp; The piece was at an end; shadow and silence
+possessed the valley of the Oise.&nbsp; We took to the paddle
+with glad hearts, like people who have sat out a noble
+performance and returned to work.&nbsp; The river was more
+dangerous here; it ran swifter, the eddies were more sudden and
+violent.&nbsp; All the way down we had had our fill of
+difficulties.&nbsp; Sometimes it was a weir which could be shot,
+sometimes one so shallow and full of stakes that we must withdraw
+the boats from the water and carry them round.&nbsp; But the
+chief sort of obstacle was a consequence of the late high
+winds.&nbsp; Every two or three hundred yards a tree had fallen
+across the river, and usually involved more than another in its
+fall.</p>
+<p>Often there was free water at the end, and we could steer
+round the leafy promontory and hear the water sucking and
+bubbling among the twigs.&nbsp; Often, again, when the tree
+reached from bank to bank, there was room, by lying close, to
+shoot through underneath, canoe and all.&nbsp; Sometimes it was
+necessary to get out upon the trunk itself and pull the boats
+across; and sometimes, when the stream was too impetuous for
+this, there was nothing for it but to land and &lsquo;carry
+over.&rsquo;&nbsp; This made a fine series of accidents in the
+day&rsquo;s career, and kept us aware of ourselves.</p>
+<p>Shortly after our re-embarkation, while I was leading by a
+long way, and still full of a noble, exulting spirit in honour of
+the sun, the swift pace, and the church bells, the river made one
+of its leonine pounces round a corner, and I was aware of another
+fallen tree within a stone-cast.&nbsp; I had my backboard down in
+a trice, and aimed for a place where the trunk seemed high enough
+above the water, and the branches not too thick to let me slip
+below.&nbsp; When a man has just vowed eternal brotherhood with
+the universe, he is not in a temper to take great determinations
+coolly, and this, which might have been a very important
+determination for me, had not been taken under a happy
+star.&nbsp; The tree caught me about the chest, and while I was
+yet struggling to make less of myself and get through, the river
+took the matter out of my hands, and bereaved me of my
+boat.&nbsp; The <i>Arethusa</i> swung round broadside on, leaned
+over, ejected so much of me as still remained on board, and thus
+disencumbered, whipped under the tree, righted, and went merrily
+away down stream.</p>
+<p>I do not know how long it was before I scrambled on to the
+tree to which I was left clinging, but it was longer than I cared
+about.&nbsp; My thoughts were of a grave and almost sombre
+character, but I still clung to my paddle.&nbsp; The stream ran
+away with my heels as fast as I could pull up my shoulders, and I
+seemed, by the weight, to have all the water of the Oise in my
+trousers-pockets.&nbsp; You can never know, till you try it, what
+a dead pull a river makes against a man.&nbsp; Death himself had
+me by the heels, for this was his last ambuscado, and he must now
+join personally in the fray.&nbsp; And still I held to my
+paddle.&nbsp; At last I dragged myself on to my stomach on the
+trunk, and lay there a breathless sop, with a mingled sense of
+humour and injustice.&nbsp; A poor figure I must have presented
+to Burns upon the hill-top with his team.&nbsp; But there was the
+paddle in my hand.&nbsp; On my tomb, if ever I have one, I mean
+to get these words inscribed: &lsquo;He clung to his
+paddle.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The <i>Cigarette</i> had gone past a while before; for, as I
+might have observed, if I had been a little less pleased with the
+universe at the moment, there was a clear way round the tree-top
+at the farther side.&nbsp; He had offered his services to haul me
+out, but as I was then already on my elbows, I had declined, and
+sent him down stream after the truant <i>Arethusa</i>.&nbsp; The
+stream was too rapid for a man to mount with one canoe, let alone
+two, upon his hands.&nbsp; So I crawled along the trunk to shore,
+and proceeded down the meadows by the river-side.&nbsp; I was so
+cold that my heart was sore.&nbsp; I had now an idea of my own
+why the reeds so bitterly shivered.&nbsp; I could have given any
+of them a lesson.&nbsp; The <i>Cigarette</i> remarked facetiously
+that he thought I was &lsquo;taking exercise&rsquo; as I drew
+near, until he made out for certain that I was only twittering
+with cold.&nbsp; I had a rub down with a towel, and donned a dry
+suit from the india-rubber bag.&nbsp; But I was not my own man
+again for the rest of the voyage.&nbsp; I had a queasy sense that
+I wore my last dry clothes upon my body.&nbsp; The struggle had
+tired me; and perhaps, whether I knew it or not, I was a little
+dashed in spirit.&nbsp; The devouring element in the universe had
+leaped out against me, in this green valley quickened by a
+running stream.&nbsp; The bells were all very pretty in their
+way, but I had heard some of the hollow notes of Pan&rsquo;s
+music.&nbsp; Would the wicked river drag me down by the heels,
+indeed? and look so beautiful all the time?&nbsp; Nature&rsquo;s
+good-humour was only skin-deep after all.</p>
+<p>There was still a long way to go by the winding course of the
+stream, and darkness had fallen, and a late bell was ringing in
+Origny Sainte-Beno&icirc;te, when we arrived.</p>
+<h2><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>ORIGNY
+SAINTE-BENO&Icirc;TE</h2>
+<h3>A BY-DAY</h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next day was Sunday, and the
+church bells had little rest; indeed, I do not think I remember
+anywhere else so great a choice of services as were here offered
+to the devout.&nbsp; And while the bells made merry in the
+sunshine, all the world with his dog was out shooting among the
+beets and colza.</p>
+<p>In the morning a hawker and his wife went down the street at a
+foot-pace, singing to a very slow, lamentable music &lsquo;<i>O
+France</i>, <i>mes amours</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; It brought everybody
+to the door; and when our landlady called in the man to buy the
+words, he had not a copy of them left.&nbsp; She was not the
+first nor the second who had been taken with the song.&nbsp;
+There is something very pathetic in the love of the French
+people, since the war, for dismal patriotic music-making.&nbsp; I
+have watched a forester from Alsace while some one was singing
+&lsquo;<i>Les malheurs de la France</i>,&rsquo; at a baptismal
+party in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau.&nbsp; He arose from
+the table and took his son aside, close by where I was
+standing.&nbsp; &lsquo;Listen, listen,&rsquo; he said, bearing on
+the boy&rsquo;s shoulder, &lsquo;and remember this, my
+son.&rsquo;&nbsp; A little after he went out into the garden
+suddenly, and I could hear him sobbing in the darkness.</p>
+<p>The humiliation of their arms and the loss of Alsace and
+Lorraine made a sore pull on the endurance of this sensitive
+people; and their hearts are still hot, not so much against
+Germany as against the Empire.&nbsp; In what other country will
+you find a patriotic ditty bring all the world into the
+street?&nbsp; But affliction heightens love; and we shall never
+know we are Englishmen until we have lost India.&nbsp;
+Independent America is still the cross of my existence; I cannot
+think of Farmer George without abhorrence; and I never feel more
+warmly to my own land than when I see the Stars and Stripes, and
+remember what our empire might have been.</p>
+<p>The hawker&rsquo;s little book, which I purchased, was a
+curious mixture.&nbsp; Side by side with the flippant, rowdy
+nonsense of the Paris music-halls, there were many pastoral
+pieces, not without a touch of poetry, I thought, and instinct
+with the brave independence of the poorer class in France.&nbsp;
+There you might read how the wood-cutter gloried in his axe, and
+the gardener scorned to be ashamed of his spade.&nbsp; It was not
+very well written, this poetry of labour, but the pluck of the
+sentiment redeemed what was weak or wordy in the
+expression.&nbsp; The martial and the patriotic pieces, on the
+other hand, were tearful, womanish productions one and all.&nbsp;
+The poet had passed under the Caudine Forks; he sang for an army
+visiting the tomb of its old renown, with arms reversed; and sang
+not of victory, but of death.&nbsp; There was a number in the
+hawker&rsquo;s collection called &lsquo;Conscrits
+Fran&ccedil;ais,&rsquo; which may rank among the most dissuasive
+war-lyrics on record.&nbsp; It would not be possible to fight at
+all in such a spirit.&nbsp; The bravest conscript would turn pale
+if such a ditty were struck up beside him on the morning of
+battle; and whole regiments would pile their arms to its
+tune.</p>
+<p>If Fletcher of Saltoun is in the right about the influence of
+national songs, you would say France was come to a poor
+pass.&nbsp; But the thing will work its own cure, and a
+sound-hearted and courageous people weary at length of snivelling
+over their disasters.&nbsp; Already Paul D&eacute;roul&egrave;de
+has written some manly military verses.&nbsp; There is not much
+of the trumpet note in them, perhaps, to stir a man&rsquo;s heart
+in his bosom; they lack the lyrical elation, and move slowly; but
+they are written in a grave, honourable, stoical spirit, which
+should carry soldiers far in a good cause.&nbsp; One feels as if
+one would like to trust D&eacute;roul&egrave;de with
+something.&nbsp; It will be happy if he can so far inoculate his
+fellow-countrymen that they may be trusted with their own
+future.&nbsp; And in the meantime, here is an antidote to
+&lsquo;French Conscripts&rsquo; and much other doleful
+versification.</p>
+<p>We had left the boats over-night in the custody of one whom we
+shall call Carnival.&nbsp; I did not properly catch his name, and
+perhaps that was not unfortunate for him, as I am not in a
+position to hand him down with honour to posterity.&nbsp; To this
+person&rsquo;s premises we strolled in the course of the day, and
+found quite a little deputation inspecting the canoes.&nbsp;
+There was a stout gentleman with a knowledge of the river, which
+he seemed eager to impart.&nbsp; There was a very elegant young
+gentleman in a black coat, with a smattering of English, who led
+the talk at once to the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race.&nbsp; And
+then there were three handsome girls from fifteen to twenty; and
+an old gentleman in a blouse, with no teeth to speak of, and a
+strong country accent.&nbsp; Quite the pick of Origny, I should
+suppose.</p>
+<p>The <i>Cigarette</i> had some mysteries to perform with his
+rigging in the coach-house; so I was left to do the parade
+single-handed.&nbsp; I found myself very much of a hero whether I
+would or not.&nbsp; The girls were full of little shudderings
+over the dangers of our journey.&nbsp; And I thought it would be
+ungallant not to take my cue from the ladies.&nbsp; My mishap of
+yesterday, told in an off-hand way, produced a deep
+sensation.&nbsp; It was Othello over again, with no less than
+three Desdemonas and a sprinkling of sympathetic senators in the
+background.&nbsp; Never were the canoes more flattered, or
+flattered more adroitly.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It is like a violin,&rsquo; cried one of the girls in
+an ecstasy.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I thank you for the word, mademoiselle,&rsquo; said
+I.&nbsp; &lsquo;All the more since there are people who call out
+to me that it is like a coffin.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh! but it is really like a violin.&nbsp; It is
+finished like a violin,&rsquo; she went on.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And polished like a violin,&rsquo; added a senator.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;One has only to stretch the cords,&rsquo; concluded
+another, &lsquo;and then tum-tumty-tum&rsquo;&mdash;he imitated
+the result with spirit.</p>
+<p>Was not this a graceful little ovation?&nbsp; Where this
+people finds the secret of its pretty speeches, I cannot imagine;
+unless the secret should be no other than a sincere desire to
+please? But then no disgrace is attached in France to saying a
+thing neatly; whereas in England, to talk like a book is to give
+in one&rsquo;s resignation to society.</p>
+<p>The old gentleman in the blouse stole into the coach-house,
+and somewhat irrelevantly informed the <i>Cigarette</i> that he
+was the father of the three girls and four more: quite an exploit
+for a Frenchman.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You are very fortunate,&rsquo; answered the
+<i>Cigarette</i> politely.</p>
+<p>And the old gentleman, having apparently gained his point,
+stole away again.</p>
+<p>We all got very friendly together.&nbsp; The girls proposed to
+start with us on the morrow, if you please!&nbsp; And, jesting
+apart, every one was anxious to know the hour of our
+departure.&nbsp; Now, when you are going to crawl into your canoe
+from a bad launch, a crowd, however friendly, is undesirable; and
+so we told them not before twelve, and mentally determined to be
+off by ten at latest.</p>
+<p>Towards evening, we went abroad again to post some
+letters.&nbsp; It was cool and pleasant; the long village was
+quite empty, except for one or two urchins who followed us as
+they might have followed a menagerie; the hills and the tree-tops
+looked in from all sides through the clear air; and the bells
+were chiming for yet another service.</p>
+<p>Suddenly we sighted the three girls standing, with a fourth
+sister, in front of a shop on the wide selvage of the
+roadway.&nbsp; We had been very merry with them a little while
+ago, to be sure.&nbsp; But what was the etiquette of
+Origny?&nbsp; Had it been a country road, of course we should
+have spoken to them; but here, under the eyes of all the gossips,
+ought we to do even as much as bow?&nbsp; I consulted the
+<i>Cigarette</i>.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Look,&rsquo; said he.</p>
+<p>I looked.&nbsp; There were the four girls on the same spot;
+but now four backs were turned to us, very upright and
+conscious.&nbsp; Corporal Modesty had given the word of command,
+and the well-disciplined picket had gone right-about-face like a
+single person.&nbsp; They maintained this formation all the while
+we were in sight; but we heard them tittering among themselves,
+and the girl whom we had not met laughed with open mouth, and
+even looked over her shoulder at the enemy.&nbsp; I wonder was it
+altogether modesty after all? or in part a sort of country
+provocation?</p>
+<p>As we were returning to the inn, we beheld something floating
+in the ample field of golden evening sky, above the chalk cliffs
+and the trees that grow along their summit.&nbsp; It was too high
+up, too large, and too steady for a kite; and as it was dark, it
+could not be a star.&nbsp; For although a star were as black as
+ink and as rugged as a walnut, so amply does the sun bathe heaven
+with radiance, that it would sparkle like a point of light for
+us.&nbsp; The village was dotted with people with their heads in
+air; and the children were in a bustle all along the street and
+far up the straight road that climbs the hill, where we could
+still see them running in loose knots.&nbsp; It was a balloon, we
+learned, which had left Saint Quentin at half-past five that
+evening.&nbsp; Mighty composedly the majority of the grown people
+took it.&nbsp; But we were English, and were soon running up the
+hill with the best.&nbsp; Being travellers ourselves in a small
+way, we would fain have seen these other travellers alight.</p>
+<p>The spectacle was over by the time we gained the top of the
+hill.&nbsp; All the gold had withered out of the sky, and the
+balloon had disappeared.&nbsp; Whither? I ask myself; caught up
+into the seventh heaven? or come safely to land somewhere in that
+blue uneven distance, into which the roadway dipped and melted
+before our eyes?&nbsp; Probably the aeronauts were already
+warming themselves at a farm chimney, for they say it is cold in
+these unhomely regions of the air.&nbsp; The night fell
+swiftly.&nbsp; Roadside trees and disappointed sightseers,
+returning through the meadows, stood out in black against a
+margin of low red sunset.&nbsp; It was cheerfuller to face the
+other way, and so down the hill we went, with a full moon, the
+colour of a melon, swinging high above the wooded valley, and the
+white cliffs behind us faintly reddened by the fire of the chalk
+kilns.</p>
+<p>The lamps were lighted, and the salads were being made in
+Origny Sainte-Beno&icirc;te by the river.</p>
+<h3><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span>THE
+COMPANY AT TABLE</h3>
+<p><span class="smcap">Although</span> we came late for dinner,
+the company at table treated us to sparkling wine.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;That is how we are in France,&rsquo; said one.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Those who sit down with us are our friends.&rsquo; And the
+rest applauded.</p>
+<p>They were three altogether, and an odd trio to pass the Sunday
+with.</p>
+<p>Two of them were guests like ourselves, both men of the
+north.&nbsp; One ruddy, and of a full habit of body, with copious
+black hair and beard, the intrepid hunter of France, who thought
+nothing so small, not even a lark or a minnow, but he might
+vindicate his prowess by its capture.&nbsp; For such a great,
+healthy man, his hair flourishing like Samson&rsquo;s, his
+arteries running buckets of red blood, to boast of these
+infinitesimal exploits, produced a feeling of disproportion in
+the world, as when a steam-hammer is set to cracking nuts.&nbsp;
+The other was a quiet, subdued person, blond and lymphatic and
+sad, with something the look of a Dane: &lsquo;<i>Tristes
+t&ecirc;tes de Danois</i>!&rsquo; as Gaston Lafenestre used to
+say.</p>
+<p>I must not let that name go by without a word for the best of
+all good fellows now gone down into the dust.&nbsp; We shall
+never again see Gaston in his forest costume&mdash;he was Gaston
+with all the world, in affection, not in disrespect&mdash;nor
+hear him wake the echoes of Fontainebleau with the woodland
+horn.&nbsp; Never again shall his kind smile put peace among all
+races of artistic men, and make the Englishman at home in
+France.&nbsp; Never more shall the sheep, who were not more
+innocent at heart than he, sit all unconsciously for his
+industrious pencil.&nbsp; He died too early, at the very moment
+when he was beginning to put forth fresh sprouts, and blossom
+into something worthy of himself; and yet none who knew him will
+think he lived in vain.&nbsp; I never knew a man so little, for
+whom yet I had so much affection; and I find it a good test of
+others, how much they had learned to understand and value
+him.&nbsp; His was indeed a good influence in life while he was
+still among us; he had a fresh laugh, it did you good to see him;
+and however sad he may have been at heart, he always bore a bold
+and cheerful countenance, and took fortune&rsquo;s worst as it
+were the showers of spring.&nbsp; But now his mother sits alone
+by the side of Fontainebleau woods, where he gathered mushrooms
+in his hardy and penurious youth.</p>
+<p>Many of his pictures found their way across the Channel:
+besides those which were stolen, when a dastardly Yankee left him
+alone in London with two English pence, and perhaps twice as many
+words of English.&nbsp; If any one who reads these lines should
+have a scene of sheep, in the manner of Jacques, with this fine
+creature&rsquo;s signature, let him tell himself that one of the
+kindest and bravest of men has lent a hand to decorate his
+lodging.&nbsp; There may be better pictures in the National
+Gallery; but not a painter among the generations had a better
+heart.&nbsp; Precious in the sight of the Lord of humanity, the
+Psalms tell us, is the death of his saints.&nbsp; It had need to
+be precious; for it is very costly, when by the stroke, a mother
+is left desolate, and the peace-maker, and <i>peace-looker</i>,
+of a whole society is laid in the ground with C&aelig;sar and the
+Twelve Apostles.</p>
+<p>There is something lacking among the oaks of Fontainebleau;
+and when the dessert comes in at Barbizon, people look to the
+door for a figure that is gone.</p>
+<p>The third of our companions at Origny was no less a person
+than the landlady&rsquo;s husband: not properly the landlord,
+since he worked himself in a factory during the day, and came to
+his own house at evening as a guest: a man worn to skin and bone
+by perpetual excitement, with baldish head, sharp features, and
+swift, shining eyes.&nbsp; On Saturday, describing some paltry
+adventure at a duck-hunt, he broke a plate into a score of
+fragments.&nbsp; Whenever he made a remark, he would look all
+round the table with his chin raised, and a spark of green light
+in either eye, seeking approval.&nbsp; His wife appeared now and
+again in the doorway of the room, where she was superintending
+dinner, with a &lsquo;Henri, you forget yourself,&rsquo; or a
+&lsquo;Henri, you can surely talk without making such a
+noise.&rsquo;&nbsp; Indeed, that was what the honest fellow could
+not do.&nbsp; On the most trifling matter his eyes kindled, his
+fist visited the table, and his voice rolled abroad in changeful
+thunder.&nbsp; I never saw such a petard of a man; I think the
+devil was in him.&nbsp; He had two favourite expressions:
+&lsquo;it is logical,&rsquo; or illogical, as the case might be:
+and this other, thrown out with a certain bravado, as a man might
+unfurl a banner, at the beginning of many a long and sonorous
+story: &lsquo;I am a proletarian, you see.&rsquo;&nbsp; Indeed,
+we saw it very well.&nbsp; God forbid that ever I should find him
+handling a gun in Paris streets!&nbsp; That will not be a good
+moment for the general public.</p>
+<p>I thought his two phrases very much represented the good and
+evil of his class, and to some extent of his country.&nbsp; It is
+a strong thing to say what one is, and not be ashamed of it; even
+although it be in doubtful taste to repeat the statement too
+often in one evening.&nbsp; I should not admire it in a duke, of
+course; but as times go, the trait is honourable in a
+workman.&nbsp; On the other hand, it is not at all a strong thing
+to put one&rsquo;s reliance upon logic; and our own logic
+particularly, for it is generally wrong.&nbsp; We never know
+where we are to end, if once we begin following words or
+doctors.&nbsp; There is an upright stock in a man&rsquo;s own
+heart, that is trustier than any syllogism; and the eyes, and the
+sympathies and appetites, know a thing or two that have never yet
+been stated in controversy.&nbsp; Reasons are as plentiful as
+blackberries; and, like fisticuffs, they serve impartially with
+all sides.&nbsp; Doctrines do not stand or fall by their proofs,
+and are only logical in so far as they are cleverly put.&nbsp; An
+able controversialist no more than an able general demonstrates
+the justice of his cause.&nbsp; But France is all gone wandering
+after one or two big words; it will take some time before they
+can be satisfied that they are no more than words, however big;
+and when once that is done, they will perhaps find logic less
+diverting.</p>
+<p>The conversation opened with details of the day&rsquo;s
+shooting.&nbsp; When all the sportsmen of a village shoot over
+the village territory <i>pro indiviso</i>, it is plain that many
+questions of etiquette and priority must arise.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Here now,&rsquo; cried the landlord, brandishing a
+plate, &lsquo;here is a field of beet-root.&nbsp; Well.&nbsp;
+Here am I then.&nbsp; I advance, do I not?&nbsp; <i>Eh bien</i>!
+<i>sacristi</i>,&rsquo; and the statement, waxing louder, rolls
+off into a reverberation of oaths, the speaker glaring about for
+sympathy, and everybody nodding his head to him in the name of
+peace.</p>
+<p>The ruddy Northman told some tales of his own prowess in
+keeping order: notably one of a Marquis.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Marquis,&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;if you take another step
+I fire upon you.&nbsp; You have committed a dirtiness,
+Marquis.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Whereupon, it appeared, the Marquis touched his cap and
+withdrew.</p>
+<p>The landlord applauded noisily.&nbsp; &lsquo;It was well
+done,&rsquo; he said.&nbsp; &lsquo;He did all that he
+could.&nbsp; He admitted he was wrong.&rsquo;&nbsp; And then oath
+upon oath.&nbsp; He was no marquis-lover either, but he had a
+sense of justice in him, this proletarian host of ours.</p>
+<p>From the matter of hunting, the talk veered into a general
+comparison of Paris and the country.&nbsp; The proletarian beat
+the table like a drum in praise of Paris.&nbsp; &lsquo;What is
+Paris?&nbsp; Paris is the cream of France.&nbsp; There are no
+Parisians: it is you and I and everybody who are Parisians.&nbsp;
+A man has eighty chances per cent. to get on in the world in
+Paris.&rsquo;&nbsp; And he drew a vivid sketch of the workman in
+a den no bigger than a dog-hutch, making articles that were to go
+all over the world.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>Eh bien</i>, <i>quoi</i>,
+<i>c&rsquo;est magnifique</i>, <i>ca</i>!&rsquo; cried he.</p>
+<p>The sad Northman interfered in praise of a peasant&rsquo;s
+life; he thought Paris bad for men and women;
+&lsquo;<i>centralisation</i>,&rsquo; said he&mdash;</p>
+<p>But the landlord was at his throat in a moment.&nbsp; It was
+all logical, he showed him; and all magnificent.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;What a spectacle!&nbsp; What a glance for an
+eye!&rsquo;&nbsp; And the dishes reeled upon the table under a
+cannonade of blows.</p>
+<p>Seeking to make peace, I threw in a word in praise of the
+liberty of opinion in France.&nbsp; I could hardly have shot more
+amiss.&nbsp; There was an instant silence, and a great wagging of
+significant heads.&nbsp; They did not fancy the subject, it was
+plain; but they gave me to understand that the sad Northman was a
+martyr on account of his views.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ask him a
+bit,&rsquo; said they.&nbsp; &lsquo;Just ask him.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes, sir,&rsquo; said he in his quiet way, answering
+me, although I had not spoken, &lsquo;I am afraid there is less
+liberty of opinion in France than you may imagine.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And with that he dropped his eyes, and seemed to consider the
+subject at an end.</p>
+<p>Our curiosity was mightily excited at this.&nbsp; How, or why,
+or when, was this lymphatic bagman martyred?&nbsp; We concluded
+at once it was on some religious question, and brushed up our
+memories of the Inquisition, which were principally drawn from
+Poe&rsquo;s horrid story, and the sermon in <i>Tristram
+Shandy</i>, I believe.</p>
+<p>On the morrow we had an opportunity of going further into the
+question; for when we rose very early to avoid a sympathising
+deputation at our departure, we found the hero up before
+us.&nbsp; He was breaking his fast on white wine and raw onions,
+in order to keep up the character of martyr, I conclude.&nbsp; We
+had a long conversation, and made out what we wanted in spite of
+his reserve.&nbsp; But here was a truly curious
+circumstance.&nbsp; It seems possible for two Scotsmen and a
+Frenchman to discuss during a long half-hour, and each
+nationality have a different idea in view throughout.&nbsp; It
+was not till the very end that we discovered his heresy had been
+political, or that he suspected our mistake.&nbsp; The terms and
+spirit in which he spoke of his political beliefs were, in our
+eyes, suited to religious beliefs.&nbsp; And <i>vice
+vers&acirc;</i>.</p>
+<p>Nothing could be more characteristic of the two
+countries.&nbsp; Politics are the religion of France; as Nanty
+Ewart would have said, &lsquo;A d-d bad religion&rsquo;; while
+we, at home, keep most of our bitterness for little differences
+about a hymn-book, or a Hebrew word which perhaps neither of the
+parties can translate.&nbsp; And perhaps the misconception is
+typical of many others that may never be cleared up: not only
+between people of different race, but between those of different
+sex.</p>
+<p>As for our friend&rsquo;s martyrdom, he was a Communist, or
+perhaps only a Communard, which is a very different thing; and
+had lost one or more situations in consequence.&nbsp; I think he
+had also been rejected in marriage; but perhaps he had a
+sentimental way of considering business which deceived me.&nbsp;
+He was a mild, gentle creature, anyway; and I hope he has got a
+better situation, and married a more suitable wife since
+then.</p>
+<h2><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>DOWN
+THE OISE: TO MOY</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Carnival</span> notoriously cheated us at
+first.&nbsp; Finding us easy in our ways, he regretted having let
+us off so cheaply; and taking me aside, told me a cock-and-bull
+story with the moral of another five francs for the
+narrator.&nbsp; The thing was palpably absurd; but I paid up, and
+at once dropped all friendliness of manner, and kept him in his
+place as an inferior with freezing British dignity.&nbsp; He saw
+in a moment that he had gone too far, and killed a willing horse;
+his face fell; I am sure he would have refunded if he could only
+have thought of a decent pretext.&nbsp; He wished me to drink
+with him, but I would none of his drinks.&nbsp; He grew
+pathetically tender in his professions; but I walked beside him
+in silence or answered him in stately courtesies; and when we got
+to the landing-place, passed the word in English slang to the
+<i>Cigarette</i>.</p>
+<p>In spite of the false scent we had thrown out the day before,
+there must have been fifty people about the bridge.&nbsp; We were
+as pleasant as we could be with all but Carnival.&nbsp; We said
+good-bye, shaking hands with the old gentleman who knew the river
+and the young gentleman who had a smattering of English; but
+never a word for Carnival.&nbsp; Poor Carnival! here was a
+humiliation.&nbsp; He who had been so much identified with the
+canoes, who had given orders in our name, who had shown off the
+boats and even the boatmen like a private exhibition of his own,
+to be now so publicly shamed by the lions of his caravan!&nbsp; I
+never saw anybody look more crestfallen than he.&nbsp; He hung in
+the background, coming timidly forward ever and again as he
+thought he saw some symptom of a relenting humour, and falling
+hurriedly back when he encountered a cold stare.&nbsp; Let us
+hope it will be a lesson to him.</p>
+<p>I would not have mentioned Carnival&rsquo;s peccadillo had not
+the thing been so uncommon in France.&nbsp; This, for instance,
+was the only case of dishonesty or even sharp practice in our
+whole voyage.&nbsp; We talk very much about our honesty in
+England.&nbsp; It is a good rule to be on your guard wherever you
+hear great professions about a very little piece of virtue.&nbsp;
+If the English could only hear how they are spoken of abroad,
+they might confine themselves for a while to remedying the fact;
+and perhaps even when that was done, give us fewer of their
+airs.</p>
+<p>The young ladies, the graces of Origny, were not present at
+our start, but when we got round to the second bridge, behold, it
+was black with sightseers!&nbsp; We were loudly cheered, and for
+a good way below, young lads and lasses ran along the bank still
+cheering.&nbsp; What with current and paddling, we were flashing
+along like swallows.&nbsp; It was no joke to keep up with us upon
+the woody shore.&nbsp; But the girls picked up their skirts, as
+if they were sure they had good ankles, and followed until their
+breath was out.&nbsp; The last to weary were the three graces and
+a couple of companions; and just as they too had had enough, the
+foremost of the three leaped upon a tree-stump and kissed her
+hand to the canoeists.&nbsp; Not Diana herself, although this was
+more of a Venus after all, could have done a graceful thing more
+gracefully.&nbsp; &lsquo;Come back again!&rsquo; she cried; and
+all the others echoed her; and the hills about Origny repeated
+the words, &lsquo;Come back.&rsquo;&nbsp; But the river had us
+round an angle in a twinkling, and we were alone with the green
+trees and running water.</p>
+<p>Come back?&nbsp; There is no coming back, young ladies, on the
+impetuous stream of life.</p>
+<blockquote><p>&lsquo;The merchant bows unto the seaman&rsquo;s
+star,<br />
+The ploughman from the sun his season takes.&rsquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>And we must all set our pocket-watches by the clock of
+fate.&nbsp; There is a headlong, forthright tide, that bears away
+man with his fancies like a straw, and runs fast in time and
+space.&nbsp; It is full of curves like this, your winding river
+of the Oise; and lingers and returns in pleasant pastorals; and
+yet, rightly thought upon, never returns at all.&nbsp; For though
+it should revisit the same acre of meadow in the same hour, it
+will have made an ample sweep between-whiles; many little streams
+will have fallen in; many exhalations risen towards the sun; and
+even although it were the same acre, it will no more be the same
+river of Oise.&nbsp; And thus, O graces of Origny, although the
+wandering fortune of my life should carry me back again to where
+you await death&rsquo;s whistle by the river, that will not be
+the old I who walks the street; and those wives and mothers, say,
+will those be you?</p>
+<p>There was never any mistake about the Oise, as a matter of
+fact.&nbsp; In these upper reaches it was still in a prodigious
+hurry for the sea.&nbsp; It ran so fast and merrily, through all
+the windings of its channel, that I strained my thumb, fighting
+with the rapids, and had to paddle all the rest of the way with
+one hand turned up.&nbsp; Sometimes it had to serve mills; and
+being still a little river, ran very dry and shallow in the
+meanwhile.&nbsp; We had to put our legs out of the boat, and
+shove ourselves off the sand of the bottom with our feet.&nbsp;
+And still it went on its way singing among the poplars, and
+making a green valley in the world.&nbsp; After a good woman, and
+a good book, and tobacco, there is nothing so agreeable on earth
+as a river.&nbsp; I forgave it its attempt on my life; which was
+after all one part owing to the unruly winds of heaven that had
+blown down the tree, one part to my own mismanagement, and only a
+third part to the river itself, and that not out of malice, but
+from its great preoccupation over its business of getting to the
+sea.&nbsp; A difficult business, too; for the d&eacute;tours it
+had to make are not to be counted.&nbsp; The geographers seem to
+have given up the attempt; for I found no map represent the
+infinite contortion of its course.&nbsp; A fact will say more
+than any of them.&nbsp; After we had been some hours, three if I
+mistake not, flitting by the trees at this smooth, break-neck
+gallop, when we came upon a hamlet and asked where we were, we
+had got no farther than four kilometres (say two miles and a
+half) from Origny.&nbsp; If it were not for the honour of the
+thing (in the Scots saying), we might almost as well have been
+standing still.</p>
+<p>We lunched on a meadow inside a parallelogram of
+poplars.&nbsp; The leaves danced and prattled in the wind all
+round about us.&nbsp; The river hurried on meanwhile, and seemed
+to chide at our delay.&nbsp; Little we cared.&nbsp; The river
+knew where it was going; not so we: the less our hurry, where we
+found good quarters and a pleasant theatre for a pipe.&nbsp; At
+that hour, stockbrokers were shouting in Paris Bourse for two or
+three per cent.; but we minded them as little as the sliding
+stream, and sacrificed a hecatomb of minutes to the gods of
+tobacco and digestion.&nbsp; Hurry is the resource of the
+faithless.&nbsp; Where a man can trust his own heart, and those
+of his friends, to-morrow is as good as to-day.&nbsp; And if he
+die in the meanwhile, why then, there he dies, and the question
+is solved.</p>
+<p>We had to take to the canal in the course of the afternoon;
+because, where it crossed the river, there was, not a bridge, but
+a siphon.&nbsp; If it had not been for an excited fellow on the
+bank, we should have paddled right into the siphon, and
+thenceforward not paddled any more.&nbsp; We met a man, a
+gentleman, on the tow-path, who was much interested in our
+cruise.&nbsp; And I was witness to a strange seizure of lying
+suffered by the <i>Cigarette</i>: who, because his knife came
+from Norway, narrated all sorts of adventures in that country,
+where he has never been.&nbsp; He was quite feverish at the end,
+and pleaded demoniacal possession.</p>
+<p>Moy (pronounce Mo&yuml;) was a pleasant little village,
+gathered round a ch&acirc;teau in a moat.&nbsp; The air was
+perfumed with hemp from neighbouring fields.&nbsp; At the Golden
+Sheep we found excellent entertainment.&nbsp; German shells from
+the siege of La F&egrave;re, N&uuml;rnberg figures, gold-fish in
+a bowl, and all manner of knick-knacks, embellished the public
+room.&nbsp; The landlady was a stout, plain, short-sighted,
+motherly body, with something not far short of a genius for
+cookery.&nbsp; She had a guess of her excellence herself.&nbsp;
+After every dish was sent in, she would come and look on at the
+dinner for a while, with puckered, blinking eyes.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;<i>C&rsquo;est bon</i>, <i>n&rsquo;est-ce pas</i>?&rsquo;
+she would say; and when she had received a proper answer, she
+disappeared into the kitchen.&nbsp; That common French dish,
+partridge and cabbages, became a new thing in my eyes at the
+Golden Sheep; and many subsequent dinners have bitterly
+disappointed me in consequence.&nbsp; Sweet was our rest in the
+Golden Sheep at Moy.</p>
+<h2><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>LA
+F&Egrave;RE OF CURSED MEMORY</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> lingered in Moy a good part of
+the day, for we were fond of being philosophical, and scorned
+long journeys and early starts on principle.&nbsp; The place,
+moreover, invited to repose.&nbsp; People in elaborate shooting
+costumes sallied from the ch&acirc;teau with guns and game-bags;
+and this was a pleasure in itself, to remain behind while these
+elegant pleasure-seekers took the first of the morning.&nbsp; In
+this way, all the world may be an aristocrat, and play the duke
+among marquises, and the reigning monarch among dukes, if he will
+only outvie them in tranquillity.&nbsp; An imperturbable
+demeanour comes from perfect patience.&nbsp; Quiet minds cannot
+be perplexed or frightened, but go on in fortune or misfortune at
+their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.</p>
+<p>We made a very short day of it to La F&egrave;re; but the dusk
+was falling, and a small rain had begun before we stowed the
+boats.&nbsp; La F&egrave;re is a fortified town in a plain, and
+has two belts of rampart.&nbsp; Between the first and the second
+extends a region of waste land and cultivated patches.&nbsp; Here
+and there along the wayside were posters forbidding trespass in
+the name of military engineering.&nbsp; At last, a second gateway
+admitted us to the town itself.&nbsp; Lighted windows looked
+gladsome, whiffs of comfortable cookery came abroad upon the
+air.&nbsp; The town was full of the military reserve, out for the
+French Autumn Man&oelig;uvres, and the reservists walked speedily
+and wore their formidable great-coats.&nbsp; It was a fine night
+to be within doors over dinner, and hear the rain upon the
+windows.</p>
+<p>The <i>Cigarette</i> and I could not sufficiently congratulate
+each other on the prospect, for we had been told there was a
+capital inn at La F&egrave;re.&nbsp; Such a dinner as we were
+going to eat! such beds as we were to sleep in!&mdash;and all the
+while the rain raining on houseless folk over all the poplared
+countryside!&nbsp; It made our mouths water.&nbsp; The inn bore
+the name of some woodland animal, stag, or hart, or hind, I
+forget which.&nbsp; But I shall never forget how spacious and how
+eminently habitable it looked as we drew near.&nbsp; The carriage
+entry was lighted up, not by intention, but from the mere
+superfluity of fire and candle in the house.&nbsp; A rattle of
+many dishes came to our ears; we sighted a great field of
+table-cloth; the kitchen glowed like a forge and smelt like a
+garden of things to eat.</p>
+<p>Into this, the inmost shrine and physiological heart of a
+hostelry, with all its furnaces in action, and all its dressers
+charged with viands, you are now to suppose us making our
+triumphal entry, a pair of damp rag-and-bone men, each with a
+limp india-rubber bag upon his arm.&nbsp; I do not believe I have
+a sound view of that kitchen; I saw it through a sort of glory:
+but it seemed to me crowded with the snowy caps of cookmen, who
+all turned round from their saucepans and looked at us with
+surprise.&nbsp; There was no doubt about the landlady, however:
+there she was, heading her army, a flushed, angry woman, full of
+affairs.&nbsp; Her I asked politely&mdash;too politely, thinks
+the <i>Cigarette</i>&mdash;if we could have beds: she surveying
+us coldly from head to foot.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You will find beds in the suburb,&rsquo; she
+remarked.&nbsp; &lsquo;We are too busy for the like of
+you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>If we could make an entrance, change our clothes, and order a
+bottle of wine, I felt sure we could put things right; so said I:
+&lsquo;If we cannot sleep, we may at least dine,&rsquo;&mdash;and
+was for depositing my bag.</p>
+<p>What a terrible convulsion of nature was that which followed
+in the landlady&rsquo;s face!&nbsp; She made a run at us, and
+stamped her foot.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Out with you&mdash;out of the door!&rsquo; she
+screeched.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>Sortez</i>! <i>sortez</i>! <i>sortez
+par la porte</i>!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I do not know how it happened, but next moment we were out in
+the rain and darkness, and I was cursing before the carriage
+entry like a disappointed mendicant.&nbsp; Where were the boating
+men of Belgium? where the Judge and his good wines? and where the
+graces of Origny?&nbsp; Black, black was the night after the
+firelit kitchen; but what was that to the blackness in our
+heart?&nbsp; This was not the first time that I have been refused
+a lodging.&nbsp; Often and often have I planned what I should do
+if such a misadventure happened to me again.&nbsp; And nothing is
+easier to plan.&nbsp; But to put in execution, with the heart
+boiling at the indignity?&nbsp; Try it; try it only once; and
+tell me what you did.</p>
+<p>It is all very fine to talk about tramps and morality.&nbsp;
+Six hours of police surveillance (such as I have had), or one
+brutal rejection from an inn-door, change your views upon the
+subject like a course of lectures.&nbsp; As long as you keep in
+the upper regions, with all the world bowing to you as you go,
+social arrangements have a very handsome air; but once get under
+the wheels, and you wish society were at the devil.&nbsp; I will
+give most respectable men a fortnight of such a life, and then I
+will offer them twopence for what remains of their morality.</p>
+<p>For my part, when I was turned out of the Stag, or the Hind,
+or whatever it was, I would have set the temple of Diana on fire,
+if it had been handy.&nbsp; There was no crime complete enough to
+express my disapproval of human institutions.&nbsp; As for the
+<i>Cigarette</i>, I never knew a man so altered.&nbsp; &lsquo;We
+have been taken for pedlars again,&rsquo; said he.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Good God, what it must be to be a pedlar in
+reality!&rsquo;&nbsp; He particularised a complaint for every
+joint in the landlady&rsquo;s body.&nbsp; Timon was a
+philanthropist alongside of him.&nbsp; And then, when he was at
+the top of his maledictory bent, he would suddenly break away and
+begin whimperingly to commiserate the poor.&nbsp; &lsquo;I hope
+to God,&rsquo; he said,&mdash;and I trust the prayer was
+answered,&mdash;&lsquo;that I shall never be uncivil to a
+pedlar.&rsquo;&nbsp; Was this the imperturbable
+<i>Cigarette</i>?&nbsp; This, this was he.&nbsp; O change beyond
+report, thought, or belief!</p>
+<p>Meantime the heaven wept upon our heads; and the windows grew
+brighter as the night increased in darkness.&nbsp; We trudged in
+and out of La F&egrave;re streets; we saw shops, and private
+houses where people were copiously dining; we saw stables where
+carters&rsquo; nags had plenty of fodder and clean straw; we saw
+no end of reservists, who were very sorry for themselves this wet
+night, I doubt not, and yearned for their country homes; but had
+they not each man his place in La F&egrave;re barracks?&nbsp; And
+we, what had we?</p>
+<p>There seemed to be no other inn in the whole town.&nbsp;
+People gave us directions, which we followed as best we could,
+generally with the effect of bringing us out again upon the scene
+of our disgrace.&nbsp; We were very sad people indeed by the time
+we had gone all over La F&egrave;re; and the <i>Cigarette</i> had
+already made up his mind to lie under a poplar and sup off a loaf
+of bread.&nbsp; But right at the other end, the house next the
+town-gate was full of light and bustle.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;<i>Bazin</i>, <i>aubergiste</i>, <i>loge &agrave;
+pied</i>,&rsquo; was the sign.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>&Agrave; la Croix
+de Malte</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; There were we received.</p>
+<p>The room was full of noisy reservists drinking and smoking;
+and we were very glad indeed when the drums and bugles began to
+go about the streets, and one and all had to snatch shakoes and
+be off for the barracks.</p>
+<p>Bazin was a tall man, running to fat: soft-spoken, with a
+delicate, gentle face.&nbsp; We asked him to share our wine; but
+he excused himself, having pledged reservists all day long.&nbsp;
+This was a very different type of the workman-innkeeper from the
+bawling disputatious fellow at Origny.&nbsp; He also loved Paris,
+where he had worked as a decorative painter in his youth.&nbsp;
+There were such opportunities for self-instruction there, he
+said.&nbsp; And if any one has read Zola&rsquo;s description of
+the workman&rsquo;s marriage-party visiting the Louvre, they
+would do well to have heard Bazin by way of antidote.&nbsp; He
+had delighted in the museums in his youth.&nbsp; &lsquo;One sees
+there little miracles of work,&rsquo; he said; &lsquo;that is
+what makes a good workman; it kindles a spark.&rsquo;&nbsp; We
+asked him how he managed in La F&egrave;re.&nbsp; &lsquo;I am
+married,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;and I have my pretty
+children.&nbsp; But frankly, it is no life at all.&nbsp; From
+morning to night I pledge a pack of good enough fellows who know
+nothing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>It faired as the night went on, and the moon came out of the
+clouds.&nbsp; We sat in front of the door, talking softly with
+Bazin.&nbsp; At the guard-house opposite, the guard was being for
+ever turned out, as trains of field artillery kept clanking in
+out of the night, or patrols of horsemen trotted by in their
+cloaks.&nbsp; Madame Bazin came out after a while; she was tired
+with her day&rsquo;s work, I suppose; and she nestled up to her
+husband and laid her head upon his breast.&nbsp; He had his arm
+about her, and kept gently patting her on the shoulder.&nbsp; I
+think Bazin was right, and he was really married.&nbsp; Of how
+few people can the same be said!</p>
+<p>Little did the Bazins know how much they served us.&nbsp; We
+were charged for candles, for food and drink, and for the beds we
+slept in.&nbsp; But there was nothing in the bill for the
+husband&rsquo;s pleasant talk; nor for the pretty spectacle of
+their married life.&nbsp; And there was yet another item
+unchanged.&nbsp; For these people&rsquo;s politeness really set
+us up again in our own esteem.&nbsp; We had a thirst for
+consideration; the sense of insult was still hot in our spirits;
+and civil usage seemed to restore us to our position in the
+world.</p>
+<p>How little we pay our way in life!&nbsp; Although we have our
+purses continually in our hand, the better part of service goes
+still unrewarded.&nbsp; But I like to fancy that a grateful
+spirit gives as good as it gets.&nbsp; Perhaps the Bazins knew
+how much I liked them? perhaps they also were healed of some
+slights by the thanks that I gave them in my manner?</p>
+<h2><a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>DOWN
+THE OISE: THROUGH THE GOLDEN VALLEY</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Below</span> La F&egrave;re the river runs
+through a piece of open pastoral country; green, opulent, loved
+by breeders; called the Golden Valley.&nbsp; In wide sweeps, and
+with a swift and equable gallop, the ceaseless stream of water
+visits and makes green the fields.&nbsp; Kine, and horses, and
+little humorous donkeys, browse together in the meadows, and come
+down in troops to the river-side to drink.&nbsp; They make a
+strange feature in the landscape; above all when they are
+startled, and you see them galloping to and fro with their
+incongruous forms and faces.&nbsp; It gives a feeling as of
+great, unfenced pampas, and the herds of wandering nations.&nbsp;
+There were hills in the distance upon either hand; and on one
+side, the river sometimes bordered on the wooded spurs of Coucy
+and St. Gobain.</p>
+<p>The artillery were practising at La F&egrave;re; and soon the
+cannon of heaven joined in that loud play.&nbsp; Two continents
+of cloud met and exchanged salvos overhead; while all round the
+horizon we could see sunshine and clear air upon the hills.&nbsp;
+What with the guns and the thunder, the herds were all frightened
+in the Golden Valley.&nbsp; We could see them tossing their
+heads, and running to and fro in timorous indecision; and when
+they had made up their minds, and the donkey followed the horse,
+and the cow was after the donkey, we could hear their hooves
+thundering abroad over the meadows.&nbsp; It had a martial sound,
+like cavalry charges.&nbsp; And altogether, as far as the ears
+are concerned, we had a very rousing battle-piece performed for
+our amusement.</p>
+<p>At last the guns and the thunder dropped off; the sun shone on
+the wet meadows; the air was scented with the breath of rejoicing
+trees and grass; and the river kept unweariedly carrying us on at
+its best pace.&nbsp; There was a manufacturing district about
+Chauny; and after that the banks grew so high that they hid the
+adjacent country, and we could see nothing but clay sides, and
+one willow after another.&nbsp; Only, here and there, we passed
+by a village or a ferry, and some wondering child upon the bank
+would stare after us until we turned the corner.&nbsp; I daresay
+we continued to paddle in that child&rsquo;s dreams for many a
+night after.</p>
+<p>Sun and shower alternated like day and night, making the hours
+longer by their variety.&nbsp; When the showers were heavy, I
+could feel each drop striking through my jersey to my warm skin;
+and the accumulation of small shocks put me nearly beside
+myself.&nbsp; I decided I should buy a mackintosh at Noyon.&nbsp;
+It is nothing to get wet; but the misery of these individual
+pricks of cold all over my body at the same instant of time made
+me flail the water with my paddle like a madman.&nbsp; The
+<i>Cigarette</i> was greatly amused by these ebullitions.&nbsp;
+It gave him something else to look at besides clay banks and
+willows.</p>
+<p>All the time, the river stole away like a thief in straight
+places, or swung round corners with an eddy; the willows nodded,
+and were undermined all day long; the clay banks tumbled in; the
+Oise, which had been so many centuries making the Golden Valley,
+seemed to have changed its fancy, and be bent upon undoing its
+performance.&nbsp; What a number of things a river does, by
+simply following Gravity in the innocence of its heart!</p>
+<h2><a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+137</span>NOYON CATHEDRAL</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Noyon</span> stands about a mile from the
+river, in a little plain surrounded by wooded hills, and entirely
+covers an eminence with its tile roofs, surmounted by a long,
+straight-backed cathedral with two stiff towers.&nbsp; As we got
+into the town, the tile roofs seemed to tumble uphill one upon
+another, in the oddest disorder; but for all their scrambling,
+they did not attain above the knees of the cathedral, which
+stood, upright and solemn, over all.&nbsp; As the streets drew
+near to this presiding genius, through the market-place under the
+H&ocirc;tel de Ville, they grew emptier and more composed.&nbsp;
+Blank walls and shuttered windows were turned to the great
+edifice, and grass grew on the white causeway.&nbsp; &lsquo;Put
+off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou
+standest is holy ground.&rsquo;&nbsp; The H&ocirc;tel du Nord,
+nevertheless, lights its secular tapers within a stone-cast of
+the church; and we had the superb east-end before our eyes all
+morning from the window of our bedroom.&nbsp; I have seldom
+looked on the east-end of a church with more complete
+sympathy.&nbsp; As it flanges out in three wide terraces and
+settles down broadly on the earth, it looks like the poop of some
+great old battle-ship.&nbsp; Hollow-backed buttresses carry
+vases, which figure for the stern lanterns.&nbsp; There is a roll
+in the ground, and the towers just appear above the pitch of the
+roof, as though the good ship were bowing lazily over an Atlantic
+swell.&nbsp; At any moment it might be a hundred feet away from
+you, climbing the next billow.&nbsp; At any moment a window might
+open, and some old admiral thrust forth a cocked hat, and proceed
+to take an observation.&nbsp; The old admirals sail the sea no
+longer; the old ships of battle are all broken up, and live only
+in pictures; but this, that was a church before ever they were
+thought upon, is still a church, and makes as brave an appearance
+by the Oise.&nbsp; The cathedral and the river are probably the
+two oldest things for miles around; and certainly they have both
+a grand old age.</p>
+<p>The Sacristan took us to the top of one of the towers, and
+showed us the five bells hanging in their loft.&nbsp; From above,
+the town was a tesselated pavement of roofs and gardens; the old
+line of rampart was plainly traceable; and the Sacristan pointed
+out to us, far across the plain, in a bit of gleaming sky between
+two clouds, the towers of Ch&acirc;teau Coucy.</p>
+<p>I find I never weary of great churches.&nbsp; It is my
+favourite kind of mountain scenery.&nbsp; Mankind was never so
+happily inspired as when it made a cathedral: a thing as single
+and specious as a statue to the first glance, and yet, on
+examination, as lively and interesting as a forest in
+detail.&nbsp; The height of spires cannot be taken by
+trigonometry; they measure absurdly short, but how tall they are
+to the admiring eye!&nbsp; And where we have so many elegant
+proportions, growing one out of the other, and all together into
+one, it seems as if proportion transcended itself, and became
+something different and more imposing.&nbsp; I could never fathom
+how a man dares to lift up his voice to preach in a
+cathedral.&nbsp; What is he to say that will not be an
+anti-climax?&nbsp; For though I have heard a considerable variety
+of sermons, I never yet heard one that was so expressive as a
+cathedral.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis the best preacher itself, and
+preaches day and night; not only telling you of man&rsquo;s art
+and aspirations in the past, but convicting your own soul of
+ardent sympathies; or rather, like all good preachers, it sets
+you preaching to yourself;&mdash;and every man is his own doctor
+of divinity in the last resort.</p>
+<p>As I sat outside of the hotel in the course of the afternoon,
+the sweet groaning thunder of the organ floated out of the church
+like a summons.&nbsp; I was not averse, liking the theatre so
+well, to sit out an act or two of the play, but I could never
+rightly make out the nature of the service I beheld.&nbsp; Four
+or five priests and as many choristers were singing
+<i>Miserere</i> before the high altar when I went in.&nbsp; There
+was no congregation but a few old women on chairs and old men
+kneeling on the pavement.&nbsp; After a while a long train of
+young girls, walking two and two, each with a lighted taper in
+her hand, and all dressed in black with a white veil, came from
+behind the altar, and began to descend the nave; the four first
+carrying a Virgin and child upon a table.&nbsp; The priests and
+choristers arose from their knees and followed after, singing
+&lsquo;Ave Mary&rsquo; as they went.&nbsp; In this order they
+made the circuit of the cathedral, passing twice before me where
+I leaned against a pillar.&nbsp; The priest who seemed of most
+consequence was a strange, down-looking old man.&nbsp; He kept
+mumbling prayers with his lips; but as he looked upon me
+darkling, it did not seem as if prayer were uppermost in his
+heart.&nbsp; Two others, who bore the burthen of the chaunt, were
+stout, brutal, military-looking men of forty, with bold, over-fed
+eyes; they sang with some lustiness, and trolled forth &lsquo;Ave
+Mary&rsquo; like a garrison catch.&nbsp; The little girls were
+timid and grave.&nbsp; As they footed slowly up the aisle, each
+one took a moment&rsquo;s glance at the Englishman; and the big
+nun who played marshal fairly stared him out of
+countenance.&nbsp; As for the choristers, from first to last they
+misbehaved as only boys can misbehave; and cruelly marred the
+performance with their antics.</p>
+<p>I understood a great deal of the spirit of what went on.&nbsp;
+Indeed it would be difficult not to understand the
+<i>Miserere</i>, which I take to be the composition of an
+atheist.&nbsp; If it ever be a good thing to take such
+despondency to heart, the <i>Miserere</i> is the right music, and
+a cathedral a fit scene.&nbsp; So far I am at one with the
+Catholics:&mdash;an odd name for them, after all?&nbsp; But why,
+in God&rsquo;s name, these holiday choristers? why these priests
+who steal wandering looks about the congregation while they feign
+to be at prayer? why this fat nun, who rudely arranges her
+procession and shakes delinquent virgins by the elbow? why this
+spitting, and snuffing, and forgetting of keys, and the thousand
+and one little misadventures that disturb a frame of mind
+laboriously edified with chaunts and organings?&nbsp; In any
+play-house reverend fathers may see what can be done with a
+little art, and how, to move high sentiments, it is necessary to
+drill the supernumeraries and have every stool in its proper
+place.</p>
+<p>One other circumstance distressed me.&nbsp; I could bear a
+<i>Miserere</i> myself, having had a good deal of open-air
+exercise of late; but I wished the old people somewhere
+else.&nbsp; It was neither the right sort of music nor the right
+sort of divinity for men and women who have come through most
+accidents by this time, and probably have an opinion of their own
+upon the tragic element in life.&nbsp; A person up in years can
+generally do his own <i>Miserere</i> for himself; although I
+notice that such an one often prefers <i>Jubilate Deo</i> for his
+ordinary singing.&nbsp; On the whole, the most religious exercise
+for the aged is probably to recall their own experience; so many
+friends dead, so many hopes disappointed, so many slips and
+stumbles, and withal so many bright days and smiling providences;
+there is surely the matter of a very eloquent sermon in all
+this.</p>
+<p>On the whole, I was greatly solemnised.&nbsp; In the little
+pictorial map of our whole Inland Voyage, which my fancy still
+preserves, and sometimes unrolls for the amusement of odd
+moments, Noyon cathedral figures on a most preposterous scale,
+and must be nearly as large as a department.&nbsp; I can still
+see the faces of the priests as if they were at my elbow, and
+hear <i>Ave Maria</i>, <i>ora pro nobis</i>, sounding through the
+church.&nbsp; All Noyon is blotted out for me by these superior
+memories; and I do not care to say more about the place.&nbsp; It
+was but a stack of brown roofs at the best, where I believe
+people live very reputably in a quiet way; but the shadow of the
+church falls upon it when the sun is low, and the five bells are
+heard in all quarters, telling that the organ has begun.&nbsp; If
+ever I join the Church of Rome, I shall stipulate to be Bishop of
+Noyon on the Oise.</p>
+<h2><a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>DOWN
+THE OISE: TO COMPI&Egrave;GNE</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> most patient people grow weary
+at last with being continually wetted with rain; except of course
+in the Scottish Highlands, where there are not enough fine
+intervals to point the difference.&nbsp; That was like to be our
+case, the day we left Noyon.&nbsp; I remember nothing of the
+voyage; it was nothing but clay banks and willows, and rain;
+incessant, pitiless, beating rain; until we stopped to lunch at a
+little inn at Pimprez, where the canal ran very near the
+river.&nbsp; We were so sadly drenched that the landlady lit a
+few sticks in the chimney for our comfort; there we sat in a
+steam of vapour, lamenting our concerns.&nbsp; The husband donned
+a game-bag and strode out to shoot; the wife sat in a far corner
+watching us.&nbsp; I think we were worth looking at.&nbsp; We
+grumbled over the misfortune of La F&egrave;re; we forecast other
+La F&egrave;res in the future;&mdash;although things went better
+with the <i>Cigarette</i> for spokesman; he had more aplomb
+altogether than I; and a dull, positive way of approaching a
+landlady that carried off the india-rubber bags.&nbsp; Talking of
+La F&egrave;re put us talking of the reservists.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Reservery,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;seems a pretty mean
+way to spend ones autumn holiday.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;About as mean,&rsquo; returned I dejectedly, &lsquo;as
+canoeing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;These gentlemen travel for their pleasure?&rsquo; asked
+the landlady, with unconscious irony.</p>
+<p>It was too much.&nbsp; The scales fell from our eyes.&nbsp;
+Another wet day, it was determined, and we put the boats into the
+train.</p>
+<p>The weather took the hint.&nbsp; That was our last
+wetting.&nbsp; The afternoon faired up: grand clouds still
+voyaged in the sky, but now singly, and with a depth of blue
+around their path; and a sunset in the daintiest rose and gold
+inaugurated a thick night of stars and a month of unbroken
+weather.&nbsp; At the same time, the river began to give us a
+better outlook into the country.&nbsp; The banks were not so
+high, the willows disappeared from along the margin, and pleasant
+hills stood all along its course and marked their profile on the
+sky.</p>
+<p>In a little while the canal, coming to its last lock, began to
+discharge its water-houses on the Oise; so that we had no lack of
+company to fear.&nbsp; Here were all our old friends; the <i>Deo
+Gratias</i> of Cond&eacute; and the <i>Four Sons of Aymon</i>
+journeyed cheerily down stream along with us; we exchanged
+waterside pleasantries with the steersman perched among the
+lumber, or the driver hoarse with bawling to his horses; and the
+children came and looked over the side as we paddled by.&nbsp; We
+had never known all this while how much we missed them; but it
+gave us a fillip to see the smoke from their chimneys.</p>
+<p>A little below this junction we made another meeting of yet
+more account.&nbsp; For there we were joined by the Aisne,
+already a far-travelled river and fresh out of Champagne.&nbsp;
+Here ended the adolescence of the Oise; this was his marriage
+day; thenceforward he had a stately, brimming march, conscious of
+his own dignity and sundry dams.&nbsp; He became a tranquil
+feature in the scene.&nbsp; The trees and towns saw themselves in
+him, as in a mirror.&nbsp; He carried the canoes lightly on his
+broad breast; there was no need to work hard against an eddy: but
+idleness became the order of the day, and mere straightforward
+dipping of the paddle, now on this side, now on that, without
+intelligence or effort.&nbsp; Truly we were coming into halcyon
+weather upon all accounts, and were floated towards the sea like
+gentlemen.</p>
+<p>We made Compi&egrave;gne as the sun was going down: a fine
+profile of a town above the river.&nbsp; Over the bridge, a
+regiment was parading to the drum.&nbsp; People loitered on the
+quay, some fishing, some looking idly at the stream.&nbsp; And as
+the two boats shot in along the water, we could see them pointing
+them out and speaking one to another.&nbsp; We landed at a
+floating lavatory, where the washerwomen were still beating the
+clothes.</p>
+<h2><a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>AT
+COMPI&Egrave;GNE</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> put up at a big, bustling hotel
+in Compi&egrave;gne, where nobody observed our presence.</p>
+<p>Reservery and general <i>militarismus</i> (as the Germans call
+it) were rampant.&nbsp; A camp of conical white tents without the
+town looked like a leaf out of a picture Bible; sword-belts
+decorated the walls of the <i>caf&eacute;s</i>; and the streets
+kept sounding all day long with military music.&nbsp; It was not
+possible to be an Englishman and avoid a feeling of elation; for
+the men who followed the drums were small, and walked
+shabbily.&nbsp; Each man inclined at his own angle, and jolted to
+his own convenience, as he went.&nbsp; There was nothing of the
+superb gait with which a regiment of tall Highlanders moves
+behind its music, solemn and inevitable, like a natural
+phenomenon.&nbsp; Who that has seen it can forget the drum-major
+pacing in front, the drummers&rsquo; tiger-skins, the
+pipers&rsquo; swinging plaids, the strange elastic rhythm of the
+whole regiment footing it in time&mdash;and the bang of the drum,
+when the brasses cease, and the shrill pipes take up the martial
+story in their place?</p>
+<p>A girl, at school in France, began to describe one of our
+regiments on parade to her French schoolmates; and as she went
+on, she told me, the recollection grew so vivid, she became so
+proud to be the countrywoman of such soldiers, and so sorry to be
+in another country, that her voice failed her and she burst into
+tears.&nbsp; I have never forgotten that girl; and I think she
+very nearly deserves a statue.&nbsp; To call her a young lady,
+with all its niminy associations, would be to offer her an
+insult.&nbsp; She may rest assured of one thing: although she
+never should marry a heroic general, never see any great or
+immediate result of her life, she will not have lived in vain for
+her native land.</p>
+<p>But though French soldiers show to ill advantage on parade, on
+the march they are gay, alert, and willing like a troop of
+fox-hunters.&nbsp; I remember once seeing a company pass through
+the forest of Fontainebleau, on the Chailly road, between the Bas
+Br&eacute;au and the Reine Blanche.&nbsp; One fellow walked a
+little before the rest, and sang a loud, audacious marching
+song.&nbsp; The rest bestirred their feet, and even swung their
+muskets in time.&nbsp; A young officer on horseback had hard ado
+to keep his countenance at the words.&nbsp; You never saw
+anything so cheerful and spontaneous as their gait; schoolboys do
+not look more eagerly at hare and hounds; and you would have
+thought it impossible to tire such willing marchers.</p>
+<p>My great delight in Compi&egrave;gne was the town-hall.&nbsp;
+I doted upon the town-hall.&nbsp; It is a monument of Gothic
+insecurity, all turreted, and gargoyled, and slashed, and
+bedizened with half a score of architectural fancies.&nbsp; Some
+of the niches are gilt and painted; and in a great square panel
+in the centre, in black relief on a gilt ground, Louis XII. rides
+upon a pacing horse, with hand on hip and head thrown back.&nbsp;
+There is royal arrogance in every line of him; the stirruped foot
+projects insolently from the frame; the eye is hard and proud;
+the very horse seems to be treading with gratification over
+prostrate serfs, and to have the breath of the trumpet in his
+nostrils.&nbsp; So rides for ever, on the front of the town-hall,
+the good king Louis XII., the father of his people.</p>
+<p>Over the king&rsquo;s head, in the tall centre turret, appears
+the dial of a clock; and high above that, three little mechanical
+figures, each one with a hammer in his hand, whose business it is
+to chime out the hours and halves and quarters for the burgesses
+of Compi&egrave;gne.&nbsp; The centre figure has a gilt
+breast-plate; the two others wear gilt trunk-hose; and they all
+three have elegant, flapping hats like cavaliers.&nbsp; As the
+quarter approaches, they turn their heads and look knowingly one
+to the other; and then, <i>kling</i> go the three hammers on
+three little bells below.&nbsp; The hour follows, deep and
+sonorous, from the interior of the tower; and the gilded
+gentlemen rest from their labours with contentment.</p>
+<p>I had a great deal of healthy pleasure from their
+man&oelig;uvres, and took good care to miss as few performances
+as possible; and I found that even the <i>Cigarette</i>, while he
+pretended to despise my enthusiasm, was more or less a devotee
+himself.&nbsp; There is something highly absurd in the exposition
+of such toys to the outrages of winter on a housetop.&nbsp; They
+would be more in keeping in a glass case before a N&uuml;rnberg
+clock.&nbsp; Above all, at night, when the children are abed, and
+even grown people are snoring under quilts, does it not seem
+impertinent to leave these ginger-bread figures winking and
+tinkling to the stars and the rolling moon?&nbsp; The gargoyles
+may fitly enough twist their ape-like heads; fitly enough may the
+potentate bestride his charger, like a centurion in an old German
+print of the <i>Via Dolorosa</i>; but the toys should be put away
+in a box among some cotton, until the sun rises, and the children
+are abroad again to be amused.</p>
+<p>In Compi&egrave;gne post-office a great packet of letters
+awaited us; and the authorities were, for this occasion only, so
+polite as to hand them over upon application.</p>
+<p>In some ways, our journey may be said to end with this
+letter-bag at Compi&egrave;gne.&nbsp; The spell was broken.&nbsp;
+We had partly come home from that moment.</p>
+<p>No one should have any correspondence on a journey; it is bad
+enough to have to write; but the receipt of letters is the death
+of all holiday feeling.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Out of my country and myself I go.&rsquo;&nbsp; I wish
+to take a dive among new conditions for a while, as into another
+element.&nbsp; I have nothing to do with my friends or my
+affections for the time; when I came away, I left my heart at
+home in a desk, or sent it forward with my portmanteau to await
+me at my destination.&nbsp; After my journey is over, I shall not
+fail to read your admirable letters with the attention they
+deserve.&nbsp; But I have paid all this money, look you, and
+paddled all these strokes, for no other purpose than to be
+abroad; and yet you keep me at home with your perpetual
+communications.&nbsp; You tug the string, and I feel that I am a
+tethered bird.&nbsp; You pursue me all over Europe with the
+little vexations that I came away to avoid.&nbsp; There is no
+discharge in the war of life, I am well aware; but shall there
+not be so much as a week&rsquo;s furlough?</p>
+<p>We were up by six, the day we were to leave.&nbsp; They had
+taken so little note of us that I hardly thought they would have
+condescended on a bill.&nbsp; But they did, with some smart
+particulars too; and we paid in a civilised manner to an
+uninterested clerk, and went out of that hotel, with the
+india-rubber bags, unremarked.&nbsp; No one cared to know about
+us.&nbsp; It is not possible to rise before a village; but
+Compi&egrave;gne was so grown a town, that it took its ease in
+the morning; and we were up and away while it was still in
+dressing-gown and slippers.&nbsp; The streets were left to people
+washing door-steps; nobody was in full dress but the cavaliers
+upon the town-hall; they were all washed with dew, spruce in
+their gilding, and full of intelligence and a sense of
+professional responsibility.&nbsp; <i>Kling</i> went they on the
+bells for the half-past six as we went by.&nbsp; I took it kind
+of them to make me this parting compliment; they never were in
+better form, not even at noon upon a Sunday.</p>
+<p>There was no one to see us off but the early
+washerwomen&mdash;early and late&mdash;who were already beating
+the linen in their floating lavatory on the river.&nbsp; They
+were very merry and matutinal in their ways; plunged their arms
+boldly in, and seemed not to feel the shock.&nbsp; It would be
+dispiriting to me, this early beginning and first cold dabble of
+a most dispiriting day&rsquo;s work.&nbsp; But I believe they
+would have been as unwilling to change days with us as we could
+be to change with them.&nbsp; They crowded to the door to watch
+us paddle away into the thin sunny mists upon the river; and
+shouted heartily after us till we were through the bridge.</p>
+<h2><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+157</span>CHANGED TIMES</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is a sense in which those
+mists never rose from off our journey; and from that time forth
+they lie very densely in my note-book.&nbsp; As long as the Oise
+was a small rural river, it took us near by people&rsquo;s doors,
+and we could hold a conversation with natives in the riparian
+fields.&nbsp; But now that it had grown so wide, the life along
+shore passed us by at a distance.&nbsp; It was the same
+difference as between a great public highway and a country
+by-path that wanders in and out of cottage gardens.&nbsp; We now
+lay in towns, where nobody troubled us with questions; we had
+floated into civilised life, where people pass without
+salutation.&nbsp; In sparsely inhabited places, we make all we
+can of each encounter; but when it comes to a city, we keep to
+ourselves, and never speak unless we have trodden on a
+man&rsquo;s toes.&nbsp; In these waters we were no longer strange
+birds, and nobody supposed we had travelled farther than from the
+last town.&nbsp; I remember, when we came into L&rsquo;Isle Adam,
+for instance, how we met dozens of pleasure-boats outing it for
+the afternoon, and there was nothing to distinguish the true
+voyager from the amateur, except, perhaps, the filthy condition
+of my sail.&nbsp; The company in one boat actually thought they
+recognised me for a neighbour.&nbsp; Was there ever anything more
+wounding?&nbsp; All the romance had come down to that.&nbsp; Now,
+on the upper Oise, where nothing sailed as a general thing but
+fish, a pair of canoeists could not be thus vulgarly explained
+away; we were strange and picturesque intruders; and out of
+people&rsquo;s wonder sprang a sort of light and passing intimacy
+all along our route.&nbsp; There is nothing but tit-for-tat in
+this world, though sometimes it be a little difficult to trace:
+for the scores are older than we ourselves, and there has never
+yet been a settling-day since things were.&nbsp; You get
+entertainment pretty much in proportion as you give.&nbsp; As
+long as we were a sort of odd wanderers, to be stared at and
+followed like a quack doctor or a caravan, we had no want of
+amusement in return; but as soon as we sank into commonplace
+ourselves, all whom we met were similarly disenchanted.&nbsp; And
+here is one reason of a dozen, why the world is dull to dull
+persons.</p>
+<p>In our earlier adventures there was generally something to do,
+and that quickened us.&nbsp; Even the showers of rain had a
+revivifying effect, and shook up the brain from torpor.&nbsp; But
+now, when the river no longer ran in a proper sense, only glided
+seaward with an even, outright, but imperceptible speed, and when
+the sky smiled upon us day after day without variety, we began to
+slip into that golden doze of the mind which follows upon much
+exercise in the open air.&nbsp; I have stupefied myself in this
+way more than once; indeed, I dearly love the feeling; but I
+never had it to the same degree as when paddling down the
+Oise.&nbsp; It was the apotheosis of stupidity.</p>
+<p>We ceased reading entirely.&nbsp; Sometimes when I found a new
+paper, I took a particular pleasure in reading a single number of
+the current novel; but I never could bear more than three
+instalments; and even the second was a disappointment.&nbsp; As
+soon as the tale became in any way perspicuous, it lost all merit
+in my eyes; only a single scene, or, as is the way with these
+<i>feuilletons</i>, half a scene, without antecedent or
+consequence, like a piece of a dream, had the knack of fixing my
+interest.&nbsp; The less I saw of the novel, the better I liked
+it: a pregnant reflection.&nbsp; But for the most part, as I
+said, we neither of us read anything in the world, and employed
+the very little while we were awake between bed and dinner in
+poring upon maps.&nbsp; I have always been fond of maps, and can
+voyage in an atlas with the greatest enjoyment.&nbsp; The names
+of places are singularly inviting; the contour of coasts and
+rivers is enthralling to the eye; and to hit, in a map, upon some
+place you have heard of before, makes history a new
+possession.&nbsp; But we thumbed our charts, on these evenings,
+with the blankest unconcern.&nbsp; We cared not a fraction for
+this place or that.&nbsp; We stared at the sheet as children
+listen to their rattle; and read the names of towns or villages
+to forget them again at once.&nbsp; We had no romance in the
+matter; there was nobody so fancy-free.&nbsp; If you had taken
+the maps away while we were studying them most intently, it is a
+fair bet whether we might not have continued to study the table
+with the same delight.</p>
+<p>About one thing we were mightily taken up, and that was
+eating.&nbsp; I think I made a god of my belly.&nbsp; I remember
+dwelling in imagination upon this or that dish till my mouth
+watered; and long before we got in for the night my appetite was
+a clamant, instant annoyance.&nbsp; Sometimes we paddled
+alongside for a while and whetted each other with gastronomical
+fancies as we went.&nbsp; Cake and sherry, a homely rejection,
+but not within reach upon the Oise, trotted through my head for
+many a mile; and once, as we were approaching Verberie, the
+<i>Cigarette</i> brought my heart into my mouth by the suggestion
+of oyster-patties and Sauterne.</p>
+<p>I suppose none of us recognise the great part that is played
+in life by eating and drinking.&nbsp; The appetite is so
+imperious that we can stomach the least interesting viands, and
+pass off a dinner-hour thankfully enough on bread and water; just
+as there are men who must read something, if it were only
+<i>Bradshaw&rsquo;s Guide</i>.&nbsp; But there is a romance about
+the matter after all.&nbsp; Probably the table has more devotees
+than love; and I am sure that food is much more generally
+entertaining than scenery.&nbsp; Do you give in, as Walt Whitman
+would say, that you are any the less immortal for that?&nbsp; The
+true materialism is to be ashamed of what we are.&nbsp; To detect
+the flavour of an olive is no less a piece of human perfection
+than to find beauty in the colours of the sunset.</p>
+<p>Canoeing was easy work.&nbsp; To dip the paddle at the proper
+inclination, now right, now left; to keep the head down stream;
+to empty the little pool that gathered in the lap of the apron;
+to screw up the eyes against the glittering sparkles of sun upon
+the water; or now and again to pass below the whistling tow-rope
+of the <i>Deo Gratias</i> of Cond&eacute;, or the <i>Four Sons of
+Aymon</i>&mdash;there was not much art in that; certain silly
+muscles managed it between sleep and waking; and meanwhile the
+brain had a whole holiday, and went to sleep.&nbsp; We took in,
+at a glance, the larger features of the scene; and beheld, with
+half an eye, bloused fishers and dabbling washerwomen on the
+bank.&nbsp; Now and again we might be half-wakened by some church
+spire, by a leaping fish, or by a trail of river grass that clung
+about the paddle and had to be plucked off and thrown away.&nbsp;
+But these luminous intervals were only partially luminous.&nbsp;
+A little more of us was called into action, but never the
+whole.&nbsp; The central bureau of nerves, what in some moods we
+call Ourselves, enjoyed its holiday without disturbance, like a
+Government Office.&nbsp; The great wheels of intelligence turned
+idly in the head, like fly-wheels, grinding no grist.&nbsp; I
+have gone on for half an hour at a time, counting my strokes and
+forgetting the hundreds.&nbsp; I flatter myself the beasts that
+perish could not underbid that, as a low form of
+consciousness.&nbsp; And what a pleasure it was!&nbsp; What a
+hearty, tolerant temper did it bring about!&nbsp; There is
+nothing captious about a man who has attained to this, the one
+possible apotheosis in life, the Apotheosis of Stupidity; and he
+begins to feel dignified and long&aelig;vous like a tree.</p>
+<p>There was one odd piece of practical metaphysics which
+accompanied what I may call the depth, if I must not call it the
+intensity, of my abstraction.&nbsp; What philosophers call
+<i>me</i> and <i>not-me</i>, <i>ego</i> and <i>non ego</i>,
+preoccupied me whether I would or no.&nbsp; There was less
+<i>me</i> and more <i>not-me</i> than I was accustomed to
+expect.&nbsp; I looked on upon somebody else, who managed the
+paddling; I was aware of somebody else&rsquo;s feet against the
+stretcher; my own body seemed to have no more intimate relation
+to me than the canoe, or the river, or the river banks.&nbsp; Nor
+this alone: something inside my mind, a part of my brain, a
+province of my proper being, had thrown off allegiance and set up
+for itself, or perhaps for the somebody else who did the
+paddling.&nbsp; I had dwindled into quite a little thing in a
+corner of myself.&nbsp; I was isolated in my own skull.&nbsp;
+Thoughts presented themselves unbidden; they were not my
+thoughts, they were plainly some one else&rsquo;s; and I
+considered them like a part of the landscape.&nbsp; I take it, in
+short, that I was about as near Nirvana as would be convenient in
+practical life; and if this be so, I make the Buddhists my
+sincere compliments; &rsquo;tis an agreeable state, not very
+consistent with mental brilliancy, not exactly profitable in a
+money point of view, but very calm, golden, and incurious, and
+one that sets a man superior to alarms.&nbsp; It may be best
+figured by supposing yourself to get dead drunk, and yet keep
+sober to enjoy it.&nbsp; I have a notion that open-air labourers
+must spend a large portion of their days in this ecstatic stupor,
+which explains their high composure and endurance.&nbsp; A pity
+to go to the expense of laudanum, when here is a better paradise
+for nothing!</p>
+<p>This frame of mind was the great exploit of our voyage, take
+it all in all.&nbsp; It was the farthest piece of travel
+accomplished.&nbsp; Indeed, it lies so far from beaten paths of
+language, that I despair of getting the reader into sympathy with
+the smiling, complacent idiocy of my condition; when ideas came
+and went like motes in a sunbeam; when trees and church spires
+along the bank surged up, from time to time into my notice, like
+solid objects through a rolling cloudland; when the rhythmical
+swish of boat and paddle in the water became a cradle-song to
+lull my thoughts asleep; when a piece of mud on the deck was
+sometimes an intolerable eyesore, and sometimes quite a companion
+for me, and the object of pleased consideration;&mdash;and all
+the time, with the river running and the shores changing upon
+either hand, I kept counting my strokes and forgetting the
+hundreds, the happiest animal in France.</p>
+<h2><a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 167</span>DOWN
+THE OISE: CHURCH INTERIORS</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> made our first stage below
+Compi&egrave;gne to Pont Sainte Maxence.&nbsp; I was abroad a
+little after six the next morning.&nbsp; The air was biting, and
+smelt of frost.&nbsp; In an open place a score of women wrangled
+together over the day&rsquo;s market; and the noise of their
+negotiation sounded thin and querulous like that of sparrows on a
+winter&rsquo;s morning.&nbsp; The rare passengers blew into their
+hands, and shuffled in their wooden shoes to set the blood
+agog.&nbsp; The streets were full of icy shadow, although the
+chimneys were smoking overhead in golden sunshine.&nbsp; If you
+wake early enough at this season of the year, you may get up in
+December to break your fast in June.</p>
+<p>I found my way to the church; for there is always something to
+see about a church, whether living worshippers or dead
+men&rsquo;s tombs; you find there the deadliest earnest, and the
+hollowest deceit; and even where it is not a piece of history, it
+will be certain to leak out some contemporary gossip.&nbsp; It
+was scarcely so cold in the church as it was without, but it
+looked colder.&nbsp; The white nave was positively arctic to the
+eye; and the tawdriness of a continental altar looked more
+forlorn than usual in the solitude and the bleak air.&nbsp; Two
+priests sat in the chancel, reading and waiting penitents; and
+out in the nave, one very old woman was engaged in her
+devotions.&nbsp; It was a wonder how she was able to pass her
+beads when healthy young people were breathing in their palms and
+slapping their chest; but though this concerned me, I was yet
+more dispirited by the nature of her exercises.&nbsp; She went
+from chair to chair, from altar to altar, circumnavigating the
+church.&nbsp; To each shrine she dedicated an equal number of
+beads and an equal length of time.&nbsp; Like a prudent
+capitalist with a somewhat cynical view of the commercial
+prospect, she desired to place her supplications in a great
+variety of heavenly securities.&nbsp; She would risk nothing on
+the credit of any single intercessor.&nbsp; Out of the whole
+company of saints and angels, not one but was to suppose himself
+her champion elect against the Great Assize!&nbsp; I could only
+think of it as a dull, transparent jugglery, based upon
+unconscious unbelief.</p>
+<p>She was as dead an old woman as ever I saw; no more than bone
+and parchment, curiously put together.&nbsp; Her eyes, with which
+she interrogated mine, were vacant of sense.&nbsp; It depends on
+what you call seeing, whether you might not call her blind.&nbsp;
+Perhaps she had known love: perhaps borne children, suckled them
+and given them pet names.&nbsp; But now that was all gone by, and
+had left her neither happier nor wiser; and the best she could do
+with her mornings was to come up here into the cold church and
+juggle for a slice of heaven.&nbsp; It was not without a gulp
+that I escaped into the streets and the keen morning air.&nbsp;
+Morning? why, how tired of it she would be before night! and if
+she did not sleep, how then?&nbsp; It is fortunate that not many
+of us are brought up publicly to justify our lives at the bar of
+threescore years and ten; fortunate that such a number are
+knocked opportunely on the head in what they call the flower of
+their years, and go away to suffer for their follies in private
+somewhere else.&nbsp; Otherwise, between sick children and
+discontented old folk, we might be put out of all conceit of
+life.</p>
+<p>I had need of all my cerebral hygiene during that day&rsquo;s
+paddle: the old devotee stuck in my throat sorely.&nbsp; But I
+was soon in the seventh heaven of stupidity; and knew nothing but
+that somebody was paddling a canoe, while I was counting his
+strokes and forgetting the hundreds.&nbsp; I used sometimes to be
+afraid I should remember the hundreds; which would have made a
+toil of a pleasure; but the terror was chimerical, they went out
+of my mind by enchantment, and I knew no more than the man in the
+moon about my only occupation.</p>
+<p>At Creil, where we stopped to lunch, we left the canoes in
+another floating lavatory, which, as it was high noon, was packed
+with washerwomen, red-handed and loud-voiced; and they and their
+broad jokes are about all I remember of the place.&nbsp; I could
+look up my history-books, if you were very anxious, and tell you
+a date or two; for it figured rather largely in the English
+wars.&nbsp; But I prefer to mention a girls&rsquo;
+boarding-school, which had an interest for us because it was a
+girls&rsquo; boarding-school, and because we imagined we had
+rather an interest for it.&nbsp; At least&mdash;there were the
+girls about the garden; and here were we on the river; and there
+was more than one handkerchief waved as we went by.&nbsp; It
+caused quite a stir in my heart; and yet how we should have
+wearied and despised each other, these girls and I, if we had
+been introduced at a croquet-party!&nbsp; But this is a fashion I
+love: to kiss the hand or wave a handkerchief to people I shall
+never see again, to play with possibility, and knock in a peg for
+fancy to hang upon.&nbsp; It gives the traveller a jog, reminds
+him that he is not a traveller everywhere, and that his journey
+is no more than a siesta by the way on the real march of
+life.</p>
+<p>The church at Creil was a nondescript place in the inside,
+splashed with gaudy lights from the windows, and picked out with
+medallions of the Dolorous Way.&nbsp; But there was one oddity,
+in the way of an <i>ex voto</i>, which pleased me hugely: a
+faithful model of a canal boat, swung from the vault, with a
+written aspiration that God should conduct the <i>Saint
+Nicolas</i> of Creil to a good haven.&nbsp; The thing was neatly
+executed, and would have made the delight of a party of boys on
+the waterside.&nbsp; But what tickled me was the gravity of the
+peril to be conjured.&nbsp; You might hang up the model of a
+sea-going ship, and welcome: one that is to plough a furrow round
+the world, and visit the tropic or the frosty poles, runs dangers
+that are well worth a candle and a mass.&nbsp; But the <i>Saint
+Nicolas</i> of Creil, which was to be tugged for some ten years
+by patient draught-horses, in a weedy canal, with the poplars
+chattering overhead, and the skipper whistling at the tiller;
+which was to do all its errands in green inland places, and never
+get out of sight of a village belfry in all its cruising; why,
+you would have thought if anything could be done without the
+intervention of Providence, it would be that!&nbsp; But perhaps
+the skipper was a humorist: or perhaps a prophet, reminding
+people of the seriousness of life by this preposterous token.</p>
+<p>At Creil, as at Noyon, Saint Joseph seemed a favourite saint
+on the score of punctuality.&nbsp; Day and hour can be specified;
+and grateful people do not fail to specify them on a votive
+tablet, when prayers have been punctually and neatly
+answered.&nbsp; Whenever time is a consideration, Saint Joseph is
+the proper intermediary.&nbsp; I took a sort of pleasure in
+observing the vogue he had in France, for the good man plays a
+very small part in my religion at home.&nbsp; Yet I could not
+help fearing that, where the Saint is so much commanded for
+exactitude, he will be expected to be very grateful for his
+tablet.</p>
+<p>This is foolishness to us Protestants; and not of great
+importance anyway.&nbsp; Whether people&rsquo;s gratitude for the
+good gifts that come to them be wisely conceived or dutifully
+expressed, is a secondary matter, after all, so long as they feel
+gratitude.&nbsp; The true ignorance is when a man does not know
+that he has received a good gift, or begins to imagine that he
+has got it for himself.&nbsp; The self-made man is the funniest
+windbag after all!&nbsp; There is a marked difference between
+decreeing light in chaos, and lighting the gas in a metropolitan
+back-parlour with a box of patent matches; and do what we will,
+there is always something made to our hand, if it were only our
+fingers.</p>
+<p>But there was something worse than foolishness placarded in
+Creil Church.&nbsp; The Association of the Living Rosary (of
+which I had never previously heard) is responsible for
+that.&nbsp; This Association was founded, according to the
+printed advertisement, by a brief of Pope Gregory Sixteenth, on
+the 17th of January 1832: according to a coloured bas-relief, it
+seems to have been founded, sometime other, by the Virgin giving
+one rosary to Saint Dominic, and the Infant Saviour giving
+another to Saint Catharine of Siena.&nbsp; Pope Gregory is not so
+imposing, but he is nearer hand.&nbsp; I could not distinctly
+make out whether the Association was entirely devotional, or had
+an eye to good works; at least it is highly organised: the names
+of fourteen matrons and misses were filled in for each week of
+the month as associates, with one other, generally a married
+woman, at the top for <i>z&eacute;latrice</i>: the leader of the
+band.&nbsp; Indulgences, plenary and partial, follow on the
+performance of the duties of the Association.&nbsp; &lsquo;The
+partial indulgences are attached to the recitation of the
+rosary.&rsquo;&nbsp; On &lsquo;the recitation of the required
+<i>dizaine</i>,&rsquo; a partial indulgence promptly
+follows.&nbsp; When people serve the kingdom of heaven with a
+pass-book in their hands, I should always be afraid lest they
+should carry the same commercial spirit into their dealings with
+their fellow-men, which would make a sad and sordid business of
+this life.</p>
+<p>There is one more article, however, of happier import.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;All these indulgences,&rsquo; it appeared, &lsquo;are
+applicable to souls in purgatory.&rsquo;&nbsp; For God&rsquo;s
+sake, ye ladies of Creil, apply them all to the souls in
+purgatory without delay!&nbsp; Burns would take no hire for his
+last songs, preferring to serve his country out of unmixed
+love.&nbsp; Suppose you were to imitate the exciseman, mesdames,
+and even if the souls in purgatory were not greatly bettered,
+some souls in Creil upon the Oise would find themselves none the
+worse either here or hereafter.</p>
+<p>I cannot help wondering, as I transcribe these notes, whether
+a Protestant born and bred is in a fit state to understand these
+signs, and do them what justice they deserve; and I cannot help
+answering that he is not.&nbsp; They cannot look so merely ugly
+and mean to the faithful as they do to me.&nbsp; I see that as
+clearly as a proposition in Euclid.&nbsp; For these believers are
+neither weak nor wicked.&nbsp; They can put up their tablet
+commanding Saint Joseph for his despatch, as if he were still a
+village carpenter; they can &lsquo;recite the required
+<i>dizaine</i>,&rsquo; and metaphorically pocket the indulgence,
+as if they had done a job for Heaven; and then they can go out
+and look down unabashed upon this wonderful river flowing by, and
+up without confusion at the pin-point stars, which are themselves
+great worlds full of flowing rivers greater than the Oise.&nbsp;
+I see it as plainly, I say, as a proposition in Euclid, that my
+Protestant mind has missed the point, and that there goes with
+these deformities some higher and more religious spirit than I
+dream.</p>
+<p>I wonder if other people would make the same allowances for
+me!&nbsp; Like the ladies of Creil, having recited my rosary of
+toleration, I look for my indulgence on the spot.</p>
+<h2><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+177</span>PR&Eacute;CY AND THE MARIONNETTES</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> made Pr&eacute;cy about
+sundown.&nbsp; The plain is rich with tufts of poplar.&nbsp; In a
+wide, luminous curve, the Oise lay under the hillside.&nbsp; A
+faint mist began to rise and confound the different distances
+together.&nbsp; There was not a sound audible but that of the
+sheep-bells in some meadows by the river, and the creaking of a
+cart down the long road that descends the hill.&nbsp; The villas
+in their gardens, the shops along the street, all seemed to have
+been deserted the day before; and I felt inclined to walk
+discreetly as one feels in a silent forest.&nbsp; All of a
+sudden, we came round a corner, and there, in a little green
+round the church, was a bevy of girls in Parisian costumes
+playing croquet.&nbsp; Their laughter, and the hollow sound of
+ball and mallet, made a cheery stir in the neighbourhood; and the
+look of these slim figures, all corseted and ribboned, produced
+an answerable disturbance in our hearts.&nbsp; We were within
+sniff of Paris, it seemed.&nbsp; And here were females of our own
+species playing croquet, just as if Pr&eacute;cy had been a place
+in real life, instead of a stage in the fairyland of
+travel.&nbsp; For, to be frank, the peasant woman is scarcely to
+be counted as a woman at all, and after having passed by such a
+succession of people in petticoats digging and hoeing and making
+dinner, this company of coquettes under arms made quite a
+surprising feature in the landscape, and convinced us at once of
+being fallible males.</p>
+<p>The inn at Pr&eacute;cy is the worst inn in France.&nbsp; Not
+even in Scotland have I found worse fare.&nbsp; It was kept by a
+brother and sister, neither of whom was out of their teens.&nbsp;
+The sister, so to speak, prepared a meal for us; and the brother,
+who had been tippling, came in and brought with him a tipsy
+butcher, to entertain us as we ate.&nbsp; We found pieces of
+loo-warm pork among the salad, and pieces of unknown yielding
+substance in the <i>rago&ucirc;t</i>.&nbsp; The butcher
+entertained us with pictures of Parisian life, with which he
+professed himself well acquainted; the brother sitting the while
+on the edge of the billiard-table, toppling precariously, and
+sucking the stump of a cigar.&nbsp; In the midst of these
+diversions, bang went a drum past the house, and a hoarse voice
+began issuing a proclamation.&nbsp; It was a man with
+marionnettes announcing a performance for that evening.</p>
+<p>He had set up his caravan and lighted his candles on another
+part of the girls&rsquo; croquet-green, under one of those open
+sheds which are so common in France to shelter markets; and he
+and his wife, by the time we strolled up there, were trying to
+keep order with the audience.</p>
+<p>It was the most absurd contention.&nbsp; The show-people had
+set out a certain number of benches; and all who sat upon them
+were to pay a couple of <i>sous</i> for the accommodation.&nbsp;
+They were always quite full&mdash;a bumper house&mdash;as long as
+nothing was going forward; but let the show-woman appear with an
+eye to a collection, and at the first rattle of her tambourine
+the audience slipped off the seats, and stood round on the
+outside with their hands in their pockets.&nbsp; It certainly
+would have tried an angel&rsquo;s temper.&nbsp; The showman
+roared from the proscenium; he had been all over France, and
+nowhere, nowhere, &lsquo;not even on the borders of
+Germany,&rsquo; had he met with such misconduct.&nbsp; Such
+thieves and rogues and rascals, as he called them!&nbsp; And
+every now and again, the wife issued on another round, and added
+her shrill quota to the tirade.&nbsp; I remarked here, as
+elsewhere, how far more copious is the female mind in the
+material of insult.&nbsp; The audience laughed in high
+good-humour over the man&rsquo;s declamations; but they bridled
+and cried aloud under the woman&rsquo;s pungent sallies.&nbsp;
+She picked out the sore points.&nbsp; She had the honour of the
+village at her mercy.&nbsp; Voices answered her angrily out of
+the crowd, and received a smarting retort for their
+trouble.&nbsp; A couple of old ladies beside me, who had duly
+paid for their seats, waxed very red and indignant, and
+discoursed to each other audibly about the impudence of these
+mountebanks; but as soon as the show-woman caught a whisper of
+this, she was down upon them with a swoop: if mesdames could
+persuade their neighbours to act with common honesty, the
+mountebanks, she assured them, would be polite enough: mesdames
+had probably had their bowl of soup, and perhaps a glass of wine
+that evening; the mountebanks also had a taste for soup, and did
+not choose to have their little earnings stolen from them before
+their eyes.&nbsp; Once, things came as far as a brief personal
+encounter between the showman and some lads, in which the former
+went down as readily as one of his own marionnettes to a peal of
+jeering laughter.</p>
+<p>I was a good deal astonished at this scene, because I am
+pretty well acquainted with the ways of French strollers, more or
+less artistic; and have always found them singularly
+pleasing.&nbsp; Any stroller must be dear to the right-thinking
+heart; if it were only as a living protest against offices and
+the mercantile spirit, and as something to remind us that life is
+not by necessity the kind of thing we generally make it.&nbsp;
+Even a German band, if you see it leaving town in the early
+morning for a campaign in country places, among trees and
+meadows, has a romantic flavour for the imagination.&nbsp; There
+is nobody, under thirty, so dead but his heart will stir a little
+at sight of a gypsies&rsquo; camp.&nbsp; &lsquo;We are not
+cotton-spinners all&rsquo;; or, at least, not all through.&nbsp;
+There is some life in humanity yet: and youth will now and again
+find a brave word to say in dispraise of riches, and throw up a
+situation to go strolling with a knapsack.</p>
+<p>An Englishman has always special facilities for intercourse
+with French gymnasts; for England is the natural home of
+gymnasts.&nbsp; This or that fellow, in his tights and spangles,
+is sure to know a word or two of English, to have drunk English
+<i>aff-&rsquo;n-aff</i>, and perhaps performed in an English
+music-hall.&nbsp; He is a countryman of mine by profession.&nbsp;
+He leaps, like the Belgian boating men, to the notion that I must
+be an athlete myself.</p>
+<p>But the gymnast is not my favourite; he has little or no
+tincture of the artist in his composition; his soul is small and
+pedestrian, for the most part, since his profession makes no call
+upon it, and does not accustom him to high ideas.&nbsp; But if a
+man is only so much of an actor that he can stumble through a
+farce, he is made free of a new order of thoughts.&nbsp; He has
+something else to think about beside the money-box.&nbsp; He has
+a pride of his own, and, what is of far more importance, he has
+an aim before him that he can never quite attain.&nbsp; He has
+gone upon a pilgrimage that will last him his life long, because
+there is no end to it short of perfection.&nbsp; He will better
+upon himself a little day by day; or even if he has given up the
+attempt, he will always remember that once upon a time he had
+conceived this high ideal, that once upon a time he had fallen in
+love with a star.&nbsp; &lsquo;&rsquo;Tis better to have loved
+and lost.&rsquo;&nbsp; Although the moon should have nothing to
+say to Endymion, although he should settle down with Audrey and
+feed pigs, do you not think he would move with a better grace,
+and cherish higher thoughts to the end?&nbsp; The louts he meets
+at church never had a fancy above Audrey&rsquo;s snood; but there
+is a reminiscence in Endymion&rsquo;s heart that, like a spice,
+keeps it fresh and haughty.</p>
+<p>To be even one of the outskirters of art, leaves a fine stamp
+on a man&rsquo;s countenance.&nbsp; I remember once dining with a
+party in the inn at Ch&acirc;teau Landon.&nbsp; Most of them were
+unmistakable bagmen; others well-to-do peasantry; but there was
+one young fellow in a blouse, whose face stood out from among the
+rest surprisingly.&nbsp; It looked more finished; more of the
+spirit looked out through it; it had a living, expressive air,
+and you could see that his eyes took things in.&nbsp; My
+companion and I wondered greatly who and what he could be.&nbsp;
+It was fair-time in Ch&acirc;teau Landon, and when we went along
+to the booths, we had our question answered; for there was our
+friend busily fiddling for the peasants to caper to.&nbsp; He was
+a wandering violinist.</p>
+<p>A troop of strollers once came to the inn where I was staying,
+in the department of Seine et Marne.&nbsp; There was a father and
+mother; two daughters, brazen, blowsy hussies, who sang and
+acted, without an idea of how to set about either; and a dark
+young man, like a tutor, a recalcitrant house-painter, who sang
+and acted not amiss.&nbsp; The mother was the genius of the
+party, so far as genius can be spoken of with regard to such a
+pack of incompetent humbugs; and her husband could not find words
+to express his admiration for her comic countryman.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;You should see my old woman,&rsquo; said he, and nodded
+his beery countenance.&nbsp; One night they performed in the
+stable-yard, with flaring lamps&mdash;a wretched exhibition,
+coldly looked upon by a village audience.&nbsp; Next night, as
+soon as the lamps were lighted, there came a plump of rain, and
+they had to sweep away their baggage as fast as possible, and
+make off to the barn where they harboured, cold, wet, and
+supperless.&nbsp; In the morning, a dear friend of mine, who has
+as warm a heart for strollers as I have myself, made a little
+collection, and sent it by my hands to comfort them for their
+disappointment.&nbsp; I gave it to the father; he thanked me
+cordially, and we drank a cup together in the kitchen, talking of
+roads, and audiences, and hard times.</p>
+<p>When I was going, up got my old stroller, and off with his
+hat.&nbsp; &lsquo;I am afraid,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;that
+Monsieur will think me altogether a beggar; but I have another
+demand to make upon him.&rsquo;&nbsp; I began to hate him on the
+spot.&nbsp; &lsquo;We play again to-night,&rsquo; he went
+on.&nbsp; &lsquo;Of course, I shall refuse to accept any more
+money from Monsieur and his friends, who have been already so
+liberal.&nbsp; But our programme of to-night is something truly
+creditable; and I cling to the idea that Monsieur will honour us
+with his presence.&rsquo;&nbsp; And then, with a shrug and a
+smile: &lsquo;Monsieur understands&mdash;the vanity of an
+artist!&rsquo;&nbsp; Save the mark!&nbsp; The vanity of an
+artist!&nbsp; That is the kind of thing that reconciles me to
+life: a ragged, tippling, incompetent old rogue, with the manners
+of a gentleman, and the vanity of an artist, to keep up his
+self-respect!</p>
+<p>But the man after my own heart is M. de Vauversin.&nbsp; It is
+nearly two years since I saw him first, and indeed I hope I may
+see him often again.&nbsp; Here is his first programme, as I
+found it on the breakfast-table, and have kept it ever since as a
+relic of bright days:</p>
+<blockquote><p>&lsquo;<i>Mesdames et Messieurs</i>,</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>Mademoiselle Ferrario et M. de Vauversin auront
+l&rsquo;honneur de chanter ce soir les morceaux suivants</i>.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>Madermoiselle Ferrario
+chantera&mdash;Mignon&mdash;Oiseaux
+L&eacute;gers&mdash;France&mdash;Des Fran&ccedil;ais dorment
+l&agrave;&mdash;Le ch&acirc;teau bleu&mdash;O&ugrave; voulez-vous
+aller</i>?</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>M. de Vauversin&mdash;Madame Fontaine et M.
+Robinet&mdash;Les plongeurs &agrave; cheval&mdash;Le Mari
+m&eacute;content&mdash;Tais-toi, gamin&mdash;Mon voisin
+l&rsquo;original&mdash;Heureux comme &ccedil;a&mdash;Comme on est
+tromp&eacute;</i>.&rsquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>They made a stage at one end of the
+<i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i>.&nbsp; And what a sight it was to
+see M. de Vauversin, with a cigarette in his mouth, twanging a
+guitar, and following Mademoiselle Ferrario&rsquo;s eyes with the
+obedient, kindly look of a dog!&nbsp; The entertainment wound up
+with a tombola, or auction of lottery tickets: an admirable
+amusement, with all the excitement of gambling, and no hope of
+gain to make you ashamed of your eagerness; for there, all is
+loss; you make haste to be out of pocket; it is a competition who
+shall lose most money for the benefit of M. de Vauversin and
+Mademoiselle Ferrario.</p>
+<p>M. de Vauversin is a small man, with a great head of black
+hair, a vivacious and engaging air, and a smile that would be
+delightful if he had better teeth.&nbsp; He was once an actor in
+the Ch&acirc;telet; but he contracted a nervous affection from
+the heat and glare of the footlights, which unfitted him for the
+stage.&nbsp; At this crisis Mademoiselle Ferrario, otherwise
+Mademoiselle Rita of the Alcazar, agreed to share his wandering
+fortunes.&nbsp; &lsquo;I could never forget the generosity of
+that lady,&rsquo; said he.&nbsp; He wears trousers so tight that
+it has long been a problem to all who knew him how he manages to
+get in and out of them.&nbsp; He sketches a little in
+water-colours; he writes verses; he is the most patient of
+fishermen, and spent long days at the bottom of the inn-garden
+fruitlessly dabbling a line in the clear river.</p>
+<p>You should hear him recounting his experiences over a bottle
+of wine; such a pleasant vein of talk as he has, with a ready
+smile at his own mishaps, and every now and then a sudden
+gravity, like a man who should hear the surf roar while he was
+telling the perils of the deep.&nbsp; For it was no longer ago
+than last night, perhaps, that the receipts only amounted to a
+franc and a half, to cover three francs of railway fare and two
+of board and lodging.&nbsp; The Maire, a man worth a million of
+money, sat in the front seat, repeatedly applauding Mlle.
+Ferrario, and yet gave no more than three <i>sous</i> the whole
+evening.&nbsp; Local authorities look with such an evil eye upon
+the strolling artist.&nbsp; Alas! I know it well, who have been
+myself taken for one, and pitilessly incarcerated on the strength
+of the misapprehension.&nbsp; Once, M. de Vauversin visited a
+commissary of police for permission to sing.&nbsp; The
+commissary, who was smoking at his ease, politely doffed his hat
+upon the singer&rsquo;s entrance.&nbsp; &lsquo;Mr.
+Commissary,&rsquo; he began, &lsquo;I am an artist.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+And on went the commissary&rsquo;s hat again.&nbsp; No courtesy
+for the companions of Apollo!&nbsp; &lsquo;They are as degraded
+as that,&rsquo; said M. de Vauversin with a sweep of his
+cigarette.</p>
+<p>But what pleased me most was one outbreak of his, when we had
+been talking all the evening of the rubs, indignities, and
+pinchings of his wandering life.&nbsp; Some one said, it would be
+better to have a million of money down, and Mlle. Ferrario
+admitted that she would prefer that mightily.&nbsp; &lsquo;<i>Eh
+bien</i>, <i>moi non</i>;&mdash;not I,&rsquo; cried De Vauversin,
+striking the table with his hand.&nbsp; &lsquo;If any one is a
+failure in the world, is it not I?&nbsp; I had an art, in which I
+have done things well&mdash;as well as some&mdash;better perhaps
+than others; and now it is closed against me.&nbsp; I must go
+about the country gathering coppers and singing nonsense.&nbsp;
+Do you think I regret my life?&nbsp; Do you think I would rather
+be a fat burgess, like a calf?&nbsp; Not I!&nbsp; I have had
+moments when I have been applauded on the boards: I think nothing
+of that; but I have known in my own mind sometimes, when I had
+not a clap from the whole house, that I had found a true
+intonation, or an exact and speaking gesture; and then,
+messieurs, I have known what pleasure was, what it was to do a
+thing well, what it was to be an artist.&nbsp; And to know what
+art is, is to have an interest for ever, such as no burgess can
+find in his petty concerns.&nbsp; <i>Tenez</i>, <i>messieurs</i>,
+<i>je vais vous le dire</i>&mdash;it is like a
+religion.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Such, making some allowance for the tricks of memory and the
+inaccuracies of translation, was the profession of faith of M. de
+Vauversin.&nbsp; I have given him his own name, lest any other
+wanderer should come across him, with his guitar and cigarette,
+and Mademoiselle Ferrario; for should not all the world delight
+to honour this unfortunate and loyal follower of the Muses?&nbsp;
+May Apollo send him rimes hitherto undreamed of; may the river be
+no longer scanty of her silver fishes to his lure; may the cold
+not pinch him on long winter rides, nor the village
+jack-in-office affront him with unseemly manners; and may he
+never miss Mademoiselle Ferrario from his side, to follow with
+his dutiful eyes and accompany on the guitar!</p>
+<p>The marionnettes made a very dismal entertainment.&nbsp; They
+performed a piece, called <i>Pyramus and Thisbe</i>, in five
+mortal acts, and all written in Alexandrines fully as long as the
+performers.&nbsp; One marionnette was the king; another the
+wicked counsellor; a third, credited with exceptional beauty,
+represented Thisbe; and then there were guards, and obdurate
+fathers, and walking gentlemen.&nbsp; Nothing particular took
+place during the two or three acts that I sat out; but you will
+he pleased to learn that the unities were properly respected, and
+the whole piece, with one exception, moved in harmony with
+classical rules.&nbsp; That exception was the comic countryman, a
+lean marionnette in wooden shoes, who spoke in prose and in a
+broad <i>patois</i> much appreciated by the audience.&nbsp; He
+took unconstitutional liberties with the person of his sovereign;
+kicked his fellow-marionnettes in the mouth with his wooden
+shoes, and whenever none of the versifying suitors were about,
+made love to Thisbe on his own account in comic prose.</p>
+<p>This fellow&rsquo;s evolutions, and the little prologue, in
+which the showman made a humorous eulogium of his troop, praising
+their indifference to applause and hisses, and their single
+devotion to their art, were the only circumstances in the whole
+affair that you could fancy would so much as raise a smile.&nbsp;
+But the villagers of Pr&eacute;cy seemed delighted.&nbsp; Indeed,
+so long as a thing is an exhibition, and you pay to see it, it is
+nearly certain to amuse.&nbsp; If we were charged so much a head
+for sunsets, or if God sent round a drum before the hawthorns
+came in flower, what a work should we not make about their
+beauty!&nbsp; But these things, like good companions, stupid
+people early cease to observe: and the Abstract Bagman tittups
+past in his spring gig, and is positively not aware of the
+flowers along the lane, or the scenery of the weather
+overhead.</p>
+<h2><a name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 194</span>BACK
+TO THE WORLD</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> the next two days&rsquo; sail
+little remains in my mind, and nothing whatever in my
+note-book.&nbsp; The river streamed on steadily through pleasant
+river-side landscapes.&nbsp; Washerwomen in blue dresses, fishers
+in blue blouses, diversified the green banks; and the relation of
+the two colours was like that of the flower and the leaf in the
+forget-me-not.&nbsp; A symphony in forget-me-not; I think
+Th&eacute;ophile Gautier might thus have characterised that two
+days&rsquo; panorama.&nbsp; The sky was blue and cloudless; and
+the sliding surface of the river held up, in smooth places, a
+mirror to the heaven and the shores.&nbsp; The washerwomen hailed
+us laughingly; and the noise of trees and water made an
+accompaniment to our dozing thoughts, as we fleeted down the
+stream.</p>
+<p>The great volume, the indefatigable purpose of the river, held
+the mind in chain.&nbsp; It seemed now so sure of its end, so
+strong and easy in its gait, like a grown man full of
+determination.&nbsp; The surf was roaring for it on the sands of
+Havre.</p>
+<p>For my own part, slipping along this moving thoroughfare in my
+fiddle-case of a canoe, I also was beginning to grow aweary for
+my ocean.&nbsp; To the civilised man, there must come, sooner or
+later, a desire for civilisation.&nbsp; I was weary of dipping
+the paddle; I was weary of living on the skirts of life; I wished
+to be in the thick of it once more; I wished to get to work; I
+wished to meet people who understood my own speech, and could
+meet with me on equal terms, as a man, and no longer as a
+curiosity.</p>
+<p>And so a letter at Pontoise decided us, and we drew up our
+keels for the last time out of that river of Oise that had
+faithfully piloted them, through rain and sunshine, for so
+long.&nbsp; For so many miles had this fleet and footless beast
+of burthen charioted our fortunes, that we turned our back upon
+it with a sense of separation.&nbsp; We had made a long
+d&eacute;tour out of the world, but now we were back in the
+familiar places, where life itself makes all the running, and we
+are carried to meet adventure without a stroke of the
+paddle.&nbsp; Now we were to return, like the voyager in the
+play, and see what rearrangements fortune had perfected the while
+in our surroundings; what surprises stood ready made for us at
+home; and whither and how far the world had voyaged in our
+absence.&nbsp; You may paddle all day long; but it is when you
+come back at nightfall, and look in at the familiar room, that
+you find Love or Death awaiting you beside the stove; and the
+most beautiful adventures are not those we go to seek.</p>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN INLAND VOYAGE***</p>
+<pre>
+
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