diff options
Diffstat (limited to '534-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 534-h/534-h.htm | 4359 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 534-h/images/p0ab.jpg | bin | 0 -> 258788 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 534-h/images/p0as.jpg | bin | 0 -> 33250 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 534-h/images/p0bb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 90913 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 534-h/images/p0bs.jpg | bin | 0 -> 9247 bytes |
5 files changed, 4359 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/534-h/534-h.htm b/534-h/534-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9613823 --- /dev/null +++ b/534-h/534-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4359 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>An Inland Voyage, by Robert Louis Stevenson</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<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 & Windus edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org 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"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON<br /> +CHATTO & WINDUS<br /> +1904</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p>‘Thus sang they in the English +boat.’</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. +But a preface is more than an author can resist, for it is the +reward of his labours. When the foundation stone is laid, +the architect appears with his plans, and struts for an hour +before the public eye. 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. 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. 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. 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? 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. Although it runs to considerably upwards of +two hundred pages, it contains not a single reference to the +imbecility of God’s universe, nor so much as a single hint +that I could have made a better one myself.—I really do not +know where my head can have been. I seem to have forgotten +all that makes it glorious to be man.—’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. He, at least, +will become my reader:—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> </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> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> <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> <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-Benoîte</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> <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> <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 Fère 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 +Compiègne</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">Précy 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> +‘<i>Arethusa</i>’ <i>on the flooded Oise</i>; <i>and +that you should thenceforth have piloted a mere wreck of mankind +to Origny Sainte-Benoîte and a supper so eagerly +desired</i>. <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>. <i>I could not in +decency expose you to share the disgrace of another and more +public shipwreck</i>. <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>. <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>. <i>For a while</i>, +<i>indeed</i>, <i>the world looked smilingly</i>. <i>The +barge was procured and christened</i>, <i>and as the</i> +‘<i>Eleven Thousand Virgins of Cologne</i>,’ <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>. +<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>. <i>On the financial aspect</i>, <i>I +would not willingly dwell</i>. <i>The</i> ‘<i>Eleven +Thousand Virgins of Cologne</i>’ <i>rotted in the stream +where she was beautified</i>. <i>She felt not the impulse +of the breeze</i>; <i>she was never harnessed to the patient +track-horse</i>. <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> ‘<i>Arethusa</i>’ <i>and +the</i> ‘<i>Cigarette</i>,’ <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>. <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. A stevedore and a lot of dock porters took up the +two canoes, and ran with them for the slip. A crowd of +children followed cheering. The <i>Cigarette</i> went off +in a splash and a bubble of small breaking water. Next +moment the <i>Arethusa</i> was after her. A steamer was +coming down, men on the paddle-box shouted hoarse warnings, the +stevedore and his porters were bawling from the quay. But +in a stroke or two the canoes were away out in the middle of the +Scheldt, and all steamers, and stevedores, and other +‘long-shore vanities were left behind.</p> +<p>The sun shone brightly; the tide was making—four jolly +miles an hour; the wind blew steadily, with occasional +squalls. 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. What +would happen when the wind first caught my little canvas? I +suppose it was almost as trying a venture into the regions of the +unknown as to publish a first book, or to marry. 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. 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. It is a commonplace, that we cannot +answer for ourselves before we have been tried. 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. I believe this is every one’s experience: +but an apprehension that they may belie themselves in the future +prevents mankind from trumpeting this cheerful sentiment +abroad. 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’s +spirit will not suffer itself to be overlaid, and rarely or never +deserts him in the hour of need. 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. A barge or two went +past laden with hay. Reeds and willows bordered the stream; +and cattle and grey venerable horses came and hung their mild +heads over the embankment. Here and there was a pleasant +village among trees, with a noisy shipping-yard; here and there a +villa in a lawn. 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. 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. 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. This gave a kind of haziness to our +intercourse. As for the Hôtel de la Navigation, I +think it is the worst feature of the place. 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. +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. 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. 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. 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. But as we were dealing with a woman, perhaps our +information was not so much thrown away as it appeared. The +sex likes to pick up knowledge and yet preserve its +superiority. It is good policy, and almost necessary in the +circumstances. 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. It is only by unintermittent +snubbing that the pretty ones can keep us in our place. +Men, as Miss Howe or Miss Harlowe would have said, ‘are +such <i>encroachers</i>.’ 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. 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. 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. 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. There is +nothing so encouraging as the spectacle of +self-sufficiency. And when I think of the slim and lovely +maidens, running the woods all night to the note of Diana’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’s hot and turbid life—although there are plenty +other ideals that I should prefer—I find my heart beat at +the thought of this one. ’Tis to fail in life, but to +fail with what a grace! That is not lost which is not +regretted. And where—here slips out the +male—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. The +water of the canal stood at about the drinking temperature of +tea; and under this cold aspersion, the surface was covered with +steam. 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. A good breeze rustled and +shivered in the rows of trees that bordered the canal. The +leaves flickered in and out of the light in tumultuous +masses. It seemed sailing weather to eye and ear; but down +between the banks, the wind reached us only in faint and +desultory puffs. There was hardly enough to steer by. +Progress was intermittent and unsatisfactory. A jocular +person, of marine antecedents, hailed us from the tow-path with a +‘<i>C’est vite</i>, <i>mais c’est +long</i>.’</p> +<p>The canal was busy enough. 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’s dinner, and a +handful of children. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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, ‘travelling abed,’ it is merely as +if he were listening to another man’s story or turning the +leaves of a picture-book in which he had no concern. 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. 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. There +are few callings, I should say, where a man gives up less of his +liberty in return for regular meals. The bargee is on +shipboard—he is master in his own ship—he can land +whenever he will—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. 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’s avenue, we went ashore to +lunch. 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>. 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>à la papier</i>, he dropped it into the Etna, in +its covering of Flemish newspaper. 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. We sat as close about the Etna as we +could. 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. +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>à la papier</i>, it was a cold and +sordid <i>fricassée</i> of printer’s ink and broken +egg-shell. We made shift to roast the other two, by putting +them close to the burning spirits; and that with better +success. And then we uncorked the bottle of wine, and sat +down in a ditch with our canoe aprons over our knees. It +rained smartly. 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. +From this point of view, even egg <i>à la papier</i> +offered by way of food may pass muster as a sort of accessory to +the fun. 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. 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. Things had a +settled look, as in places long lived in. Crop-headed +children spat upon us from the bridges as we went below, with a +true conservative feeling. But even more conservative were +the fishermen, intent upon their floats, who let us go by without +one glance. They perched upon sterlings and buttresses and +along the slope of the embankment, gently occupied. They +were indifferent, like pieces of dead nature. They did not +move any more than if they had been fishing in an old Dutch +print. The leaves fluttered, the water lapped, but they +continued in one stay like so many churches established by +law. You might have trepanned every one of their innocent +heads, and found no more than so much coiled fishing-line below +their skulls. 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. At the same +place, the rain began again. It fell in straight, parallel +lines; and the surface of the canal was thrown up into an +infinity of little crystal fountains. There were no beds to +be had in the neighbourhood. 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. I seem to have +seen something of the same effect in engravings: opulent +landscapes, deserted and overhung with the passage of +storm. 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. But the sun was already down; the air was chill; +and we had scarcely a dry stitch between the pair of us. +Nay, now we found ourselves near the end of the Allée +Verte, and on the very threshold of Brussels, we were confronted +by a serious difficulty. The shores were closely lined by +canal boats waiting their turn at the lock. Nowhere was +there any convenient landing-place; nowhere so much as a +stable-yard to leave the canoes in for the night. We +scrambled ashore and entered an <i>estaminet</i> where some sorry +fellows were drinking with the landlord. 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. +One of the sorry fellows came to the rescue. 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. +The <i>Arethusa</i> addressed himself to these. One of them +said there would be no difficulty about a night’s lodging +for our boats; and the other, taking a cigarette from his lips, +inquired if they were made by Searle and Son. The name was +quite an introduction. 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. 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. 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. We were English boating-men, and the Belgian +boating-men fell upon our necks. I wonder if French +Huguenots were as cordially greeted by English Protestants when +they came across the Channel out of great tribulation. 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. 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. This one lent us soap, that one a towel, +a third and fourth helped us to undo our bags. And all the +time such questions, such assurances of respect and +sympathy! I declare I never knew what glory was before.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes, the <i>Royal Sport Nautique</i> is the oldest +club in Belgium.’</p> +<p>‘We number two hundred.’</p> +<p>‘We’—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—‘We have gained +all races, except those where we were cheated by the +French.’</p> +<p>‘You must leave all your wet things to be +dried.’</p> +<p>‘O! <i>entre frères</i>! In any boat-house +in England we should find the same.’ (I cordially +hope they might.)</p> +<p>‘<i>En Angleterre</i>, <i>vous employez des +sliding-seats</i>, <i>n’est-ce pas</i>?’</p> +<p>‘We are all employed in commerce during the day; but in +the evening, <i>voyez-vous</i>, <i>nous sommes +sérieux</i>.’</p> +<p>These were the words. 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. I may have a wrong idea of wisdom, but I think that +was a very wise remark. People connected with literature +and philosophy are busy all their days in getting rid of +second-hand notions and false standards. 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. And these Royal Nautical Sportsmen had +the distinction still quite legible in their hearts. 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. The nightmare illusion of middle +age, the bear’s hug of custom gradually squeezing the life +out of a man’s soul, had not yet begun for these +happy-starred young Belgians. 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. 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. 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. 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? He must have never +seen a boat, or never seen an office, who says so. And for +certain the one is a great deal better for the health. +There should be nothing so much a man’s business as his +amusements. 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. 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. 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’s prosperity, one of their number escorted +us to an hotel. He would not join us at our dinner, but he +had no objection to a glass of wine. Enthusiasm is very +wearing; and I begin to understand why prophets were unpopular in +Judæa, where they were best known. 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. I call it his +subject; but I think it was he who was subjected. The +<i>Arethusa</i>, who holds all racing as a creature of the devil, +found himself in a pitiful dilemma. 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. Several times, and, once above all, on +the question of sliding-seats, he was within an ace of +exposure. 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. I could see my friend perspiring in his chair +whenever that particular topic came up. And there was yet +another proposal which had the same effect on both of us. +It appeared that the champion canoeist of Europe (as well as most +other champions) was a Royal Nautical Sportsman. And if we +would only wait until the Sunday, this infernal paddler would be +so condescending as to accompany us on our next stage. +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. The great billows had gone +over our head. 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. 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. In +short, we had recourse to flight. It seemed ungrateful, but +we tried to make that good on a card loaded with sincere +compliments. 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. Fifty-five locks in a day’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>. He is somehow or other a marked +man for the official eye. Wherever he journeys, there are +the officers gathered together. 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. 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. +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. He is a born +British subject, yet he has never succeeded in persuading a +single official of his nationality. 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. I too have +been knolled to church, and sat at good men’s feasts; but I +bear no mark of it. I am as strange as a Jack Indian to +their official spectacles. I might come from any part of +the globe, it seems, except from where I do. My ancestors +have laboured in vain, and the glorious Constitution cannot +protect me in my walks abroad. 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. 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>. It seemed to be inhabited principally by +soldiers and bagmen; at least, these were all that we saw, except +the hotel servants. 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. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. 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. And besides, as I suppose each belligerent +nation has a plan of the other’s fortified places already, +these precautions are of the nature of shutting the stable door +after the steed is away. But I have no doubt they help to +keep up a good spirit at home. It is a great thing if you +can persuade people that they are somehow or other partakers in a +mystery. It makes them feel bigger. 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. I +think the spectacle of a whole life in which you have no part +paralyses personal desire. You are content to become a mere +spectator. The baker stands in his door; the colonel with +his three medals goes by to the <i>café</i> at night; the +troops drum and trumpet and man the ramparts, as bold as so many +lions. It would task language to say how placidly you +behold all this. 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. 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. +Perhaps, in a very short time, you would be one no longer. +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’s +life. These externals are as dead to us as so many +formalities, and speak a dead language in our eyes and +ears. They have no more meaning than an oath or a +salutation. 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. 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. He had heard +of our little journey, and came to me at once in envious +sympathy. How he longed to travel! he told me. How he +longed to be somewhere else, and see the round world before he +went into the grave! ‘Here I am,’ said +he. ‘I drive to the station. Well. And +then I drive back again to the hotel. And so on every day +and all the week round. My God, is that life?’ +I could not say I thought it was—for him. 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. Might not this +have been a brave African traveller, or gone to the Indies after +Drake? But it is an evil age for the gypsily inclined among +men. 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? 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. 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. I think I hear you say that it is a +respectable position to drive an omnibus? Very well. +What right has he who likes it not, to keep those who would like +it dearly out of this respectable position? 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? 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. 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’s edge. The man of the omnibus was there +with haggard eyes. Poor cage-bird! 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. The wind was contrary, and blew in furious gusts; +nor were the aspects of nature any more clement than the doings +of the sky. For we passed through a stretch of blighted +country, sparsely covered with brush, but handsomely enough +diversified with factory chimneys. We landed in a soiled +meadow among some pollards, and there smoked a pipe in a flaw of +fair weather. But the wind blew so hard, we could get +little else to smoke. There were no natural objects in the +neighbourhood, but some sordid workshops. A group of +children headed by a tall girl stood and watched us from a little +distance all the time we stayed. 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. +Near a dozen grimy workmen lent us a hand. They refused any +reward; and, what is much better, refused it handsomely, without +conveying any sense of insult. ‘It is a way we have +in our countryside,’ said they. And a very becoming +way it is. 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. 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. 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. 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. On either hand, meadows and orchards +bordered, with a margin of sedge and water flowers, upon the +river. 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. +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. The heaven was bare +of clouds. The atmosphere, after the rain, was of +enchanting purity. 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. 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. A moment after I heard a +loud plunge, and, turning my head, saw the clergyman struggling +to shore. 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. These sat along the edges of +the meadows, sometimes with one rod, sometimes with as many as +half a score. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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’s waters. 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. 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. 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. It was in vain that I warned him. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. When I let slip my first word +or so in French, a little girl nodded her head with a comical +grown-up air. ‘Ah, you see,’ she said, +‘he understands well enough now; he was just making +believe.’ 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 ‘and a far way from here—<i>bien loin +d’ici</i>.’</p> +<p>‘Ay, you may say that, a far way from here,’ 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. They admired the canoes very +much. And I observed one piece of delicacy in these +children, which is worthy of record. 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. Delicacy? or +perhaps a bit of fear for the water in so crank a vessel? I +hate cynicism a great deal worse than I do the devil; unless +perhaps the two were the same thing? And yet ’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. They could not +make enough of my red sash; and my knife filled them with +awe.</p> +<p>‘They make them like that in England,’ said the +boy with one arm. I was glad he did not know how badly we +make them in England now-a-days. ‘They are for people +who go away to sea,’ he added, ‘and to defend +one’s life against great fish.’</p> +<p>I felt I was becoming a more and more romantic figure to the +little group at every word. And so I suppose I was. +Even my pipe, although it was an ordinary French clay pretty well +‘trousered,’ as they call it, would have a rarity in +their eyes, as a thing coming from so far away. And if my +feathers were not very fine in themselves, they were all from +over seas. One thing in my outfit, however, tickled them +out of all politeness; and that was the bemired condition of my +canvas shoes. I suppose they were sure the mud at any rate +was a home product. 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’s milk-can, a great amphora of hammered +brass, stood some way off upon the sward. I was glad of an +opportunity to divert public attention from myself, and return +some of the compliments I had received. So I admired it +cordially both for form and colour, telling them, and very truly, +that it was as beautiful as gold. They were not +surprised. The things were plainly the boast of the +countryside. And the children expatiated on the costliness +of these amphoræ, 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. There were beds to be had some ten +minutes’ walk from where we were, at a place called +Pont. We stowed the canoes in a granary, and asked among +the children for a guide. The circle at once widened round +us, and our offers of reward were received in dispiriting +silence. 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. +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. As it +was, he was more frightened at the granary man than the +strangers, having perhaps had some experience of the +former. 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. 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. The hinds were trudging homewards from +the fields. A brisk little woman passed us by. 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’s side, and scattered shrill remarks among +the wayfarers. It was notable that none of the tired men +took the trouble to reply. Our conductor soon led us out of +the lane and across country. The sun had gone down, but the +west in front of us was one lake of level gold. The path +wandered a while in the open, and then passed under a trellis +like a bower indefinitely prolonged. 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. He waxed positively lyrical in praise of country +scenes. 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. 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. Away +on the left, a gaunt tower stood in the middle of the +street. 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. 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. ‘These gentlemen are +pedlars?—<i>Ces messieurs sont des +marchands</i>?’—asked the landlady. 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. But the butcher was flitting, and all +his beds were taken down. Or else he didn’t like our +look. As a parting shot, we had ‘These gentlemen are +pedlars?’</p> +<p>It began to grow dark in earnest. We could no longer +distinguish the faces of the people who passed us by with an +inarticulate good-evening. And the householders of Pont +seemed very economical with their oil; for we saw not a single +window lighted in all that long village. I believe it is +the longest village in the world; but I daresay in our +predicament every pace counted three times over. 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. A female voice assented in no very friendly +tones. 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. 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. 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. On one side, there was +a bit of a bar, with some half-a-dozen bottles. 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>‘These gentlemen are pedlars?’ she asked +sharply. And that was all the conversation +forthcoming. We began to think we might be pedlars after +all. I never knew a population with so narrow a range of +conjecture as the innkeepers of Pont-sur-Sambre. But +manners and bearing have not a wider currency than +bank-notes. You have only to get far enough out of your +beat, and all your accomplished airs will go for nothing. +These Hainaulters could see no difference between us and the +average pedlar. 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. 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. 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. The landlady, her son, and the lass aforesaid, took +the same. Our meal was quite a banquet by comparison. +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—I beg your pardon, +what it is to be a pedlar. It had not before occurred to me +that a pedlar was a great man in a labourer’s ale-house; +but now that I had to enact the part for an evening, I found that +so it was. He has in his hedge quarters somewhat the same +pre-eminency as the man who takes a private parlour in an +hotel. 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. Particularly +the <i>Cigarette</i>, for I tried to make believe that I was +amused with the adventure, tough beefsteak and all. +According to the Lucretian maxim, our steak should have been +flavoured by the look of the other people’s +bread-berry. But we did not find it so in practice. +You may have a head-knowledge that other people live more poorly +than yourself, but it is not agreeable—I was going to say, +it is against the etiquette of the universe—to sit at the +same table and pick your own superior diet from among their +crusts. I had not seen such a thing done since the greedy +boy at school with his birthday cake. It was odious enough +to witness, I could remember; and I had never thought to play the +part myself. 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. And I fancy it must arise a great deal from the +comparative indistinction of the easy and the not so easy in +these ranks. A workman or a pedlar cannot shutter himself +off from his less comfortable neighbours. If he treats +himself to a luxury, he must do it in the face of a dozen who +cannot. 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. +He sees nothing but the heavenly bodies, all in admirable order, +and positively as good as new. He finds himself surrounded +in the most touching manner by the attentions of Providence, and +compares himself involuntarily with the lilies and the +skylarks. He does not precisely sing, of course; but then +he looks so unassuming in his open landau! 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 +Molière’s farce, when the true nobleman broke in on +their high life below stairs, we were destined to be confronted +with a real pedlar. 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. 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. He was a lean, nervous flibbertigibbet of a +man, with something the look of an actor, and something the look +of a horse-jockey. 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. 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>képi</i>. It was notable that the child was many +degrees better dressed than either of the parents. 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. 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? 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. And as for being a +reigning prince—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. He was no sooner awake than he began to +prepare himself for supper by eating galette, unripe pears, and +cold potatoes—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. 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. He was +at that time absorbed in the galette. 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. 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. 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. The two parents were both absurdly fond of +their child. 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—and +think, and if he did not know it, ‘my faith, he +wouldn’t tell you at all—<i>foi</i>, <i>il ne vous le +dira pas</i>’: which is certainly a very high degree of +caution. At intervals, M. Hector would appeal to his wife, +with his mouth full of beefsteak, as to the little fellow’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. 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. 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. She showed, +with a pride perhaps partly mercantile in origin, his pockets +preposterously swollen with tops and whistles and string. +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. Indeed they spoiled him vastly, these +two good people. 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. 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. In all essential things we +and the Gilliards cut very much the same figure in the ale-house +kitchen. 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. 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. 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. In this mixed world, +if you can find one or two sensible places in a man—above +all, if you should find a whole family living together on such +pleasant terms—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. 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’s lap, and +thence on to the floor, with accompaniment of laughter.</p> +<p>‘Are you going to sleep alone?’ asked the servant +lass.</p> +<p>‘There’s little fear of that,’ says Master +Gilliard.</p> +<p>‘You sleep alone at school,’ objected his +mother. ‘Come, come, you must be a man.’</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. We, on our part, had firmly protested against one +man’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. There was not so much +as a glass of water. 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. +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. ‘<i>Voilà de +l’eau pour vous débarbouiller</i>,’ says +she. 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’s campaign in a portable chest of drawers, which +formed a part of his baggage. 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. There is a great deal +in the point of view. Do you remember the Frenchman who, +travelling by way of Southampton, was put down in Waterloo +Station, and had to drive across Waterloo Bridge? He had a +mind to go home again, it seems.</p> +<p>Pont itself is on the river, but whereas it is ten +minutes’ walk from Quartes by dry land, it is six weary +kilometres by water. We left our bags at the inn, and +walked to our canoes through the wet orchards unencumbered. +Some of the children were there to see us off, but we were no +longer the mysterious beings of the night before. A +departure is much less romantic than an unexplained arrival in +the golden evening. Although we might be greatly taken at a +ghost’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. 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. 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. These gentlemen pedlars, indeed! Now you +see their quality too late.</p> +<p>The whole day was showery, with occasional drenching +plumps. We were soaked to the skin, then partially dried in +the sun, then soaked once more. 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. It looked solemn along the river-side, +drooping its boughs into the water, and piling them up aloft into +a wall of leaves. What is a forest but a city of +nature’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? 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. 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. 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. Usually the resin of the fir +predominates. 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. Trees are +the most civil society. 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? 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’s +repertory? Heine wished to lie like Merlin under the oaks +of Broceliande. 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. 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. And the rest of the time the rain kept coming +in squirts and the wind in squalls, until one’s heart grew +weary of such fitful, scolding weather. It was odd how the +showers began when we had to carry the boats over a lock, and +must expose our legs. They always did. This is a sort +of thing that readily begets a personal feeling against +nature. 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. The <i>Cigarette</i> +had a mackintosh which put him more or less above these +contrarieties. But I had to bear the brunt uncovered. +I began to remember that nature was a woman. My companion, +in a rosier temper, listened with great satisfaction to my +Jeremiads, and ironically concurred. He instanced, as a +cognate matter, the action of the tides, ‘which,’ +said he, ‘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.’</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. A vivacious old man, whom I +take to have been the devil, drew near and questioned me about +our journey. In the fulness of my heart, I laid bare our +plans before him. He said it was the silliest enterprise +that ever he heard of. 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? ‘Get into a train, my little young +man,’ said he, I and go you away home to your +parents.’ I was so astounded at the man’s +malice, that I could only stare at him in silence. A tree +would never have spoken to me like this. At last I got out +with some words. 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. Yes, I said, if there were no other reason, I +would do it now, just because he had dared to say we could +not. 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’s</i> servant, +on a comparison, I suppose, of my bare jersey with the +other’s mackintosh, and asked me many questions about my +place and my master’s character. I said he was a good +enough fellow, but had this absurd voyage on the head. +‘O no, no,’ said one, ‘you must not say that; +it is not absurd; it is very courageous of him.’ I +believe these were a couple of angels sent to give me heart +again. It was truly fortifying to reproduce all the old +man’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>, +‘They must have a curious idea of how English servants +behave,’ says he dryly, ‘for you treated me like a +brute beast at the lock.’</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. 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. There was an English +fruiterer at dinner, travelling with a Belgian fruiterer; in the +evening at the <i>café</i>, we watched our compatriot drop +a good deal of money at corks; and I don’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. It +is not the place one would have chosen for a day’s rest; +for it consists almost entirely of fortifications. 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. 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. The only public buildings that had any interest +for us were the hotel and the <i>café</i>. But we +visited the church. There lies Marshal Clarke. 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>réveilles</i>, and such like, make a fine romantic +interlude in civic business. 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. But in a shadow of a town like Landrecies, with +little else moving, these points of war made a proportionate +commotion. Indeed, they were the only things to +remember. 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. 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. And if +it be true, as I have heard it said, that drums are covered with +asses’ skin, what a picturesque irony is there in +that! As if this long-suffering animal’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. 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’ hide. We know +what effect it has in life, and how your dull ass will not mend +his pace with beating. But in this state of mummy and +melancholy survival of itself, when the hollow skin reverberates +to the drummer’s wrist, and each dub-a-dub goes direct to a +man’s heart, and puts madness there, and that disposition +of the pulses which we, in our big way of talking, nickname +Heroism:—is there not something in the nature of a revenge +upon the donkey’s persecutors? 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>café</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. But although we had been somewhat indifferent to +Landrecies, Landrecies had not been indifferent to us. All +day, we learned, people had been running out between the squalls +to visit our two boats. Hundreds of persons, so said +report, although it fitted ill with our idea of the +town—hundreds of persons had inspected them where they lay +in a coal-shed. 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>café</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. 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. 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’s establishment, with a curious collection of old +brass warming-pans upon the walls. Some of these were most +elaborately carved. It seemed a picturesque idea for a +collector. 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. If they could only speak, at what absurd, +indecorous, and tragical scenes had they not been present!</p> +<p>The wine was excellent. When we made the Judge our +compliments upon a bottle, ‘I do not give it you as my +worst,’ said he. I wonder when Englishmen will learn +these hospitable graces. They are worth learning; they set +off life, and make ordinary moments ornamental.</p> +<p>There were two other Landrecienses present. One was the +collector of something or other, I forget what; the other, we +were told, was the principal notary of the place. So it +happened that we all five more or less followed the law. At +this rate, the talk was pretty certain to become technical. +The <i>Cigarette</i> expounded the Poor Laws very +magisterially. And a little later I found myself laying +down the Scots Law of Illegitimacy, of which I am glad to say I +know nothing. The collector and the notary, who were both +married men, accused the Judge, who was a bachelor, of having +started the subject. He deprecated the charge, with a +conscious, pleased air, just like all the men I have ever seen, +be they French or English. 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. This was the highest water mark of popular favour +on the whole cruise. After all, being in a Judge’s +house, was there not something semi-official in the +tribute? And so, remembering what a great country France +is, we did full justice to our entertainment. 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. The Judge politely escorted us to the end of the +lock under an umbrella. We had now brought ourselves to a +pitch of humility in the matter of weather, not often attained +except in the Scottish Highlands. 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. Some +carried gay iron railings, and quite a parterre of +flower-pots. 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. 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. We must +have seen something like a hundred of these embarkations in the +course of that day’s paddle, ranged one after another like +the houses in a street; and from not one of them were we +disappointed of this accompaniment. 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. 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. The +children who played together to-day by the Sambre and Oise Canal, +each at his own father’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. 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. +We should be seen pottering on deck in all the dignity of years, +our white beards falling into our laps. 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. 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. 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—somewhat thinner than of +yore, and with here and there a quaver, or call it a natural +grace-note—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. I had plenty to +choose from, as I coasted one after another, and the dogs bayed +at me for a vagrant. 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. I began with a remark upon their +dog, which had somewhat the look of a pointer; thence I slid into +a compliment on Madame’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. The life would be shown to be a +vile one, not without a side shot at your better fortune. +Now, what I like so much in France is the clear unflinching +recognition by everybody of his own luck. 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. And they scorn to make a poor mouth over their +poverty, which I take to be the better part of manliness. 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 ‘a poor man’s child.’ I would +not say such a thing to the Duke of Westminster. And the +French are full of this spirit of independence. Perhaps it +is the result of republican institutions, as they call +them. 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. They understood perfectly well, they told me, +how Monsieur envied them. Without doubt Monsieur was rich; +and in that case he might make a canal boat as pretty as a +villa—<i>joli comme un château</i>. And with +that they invited me on board their own water villa. They +apologised for their cabin; they had not been rich enough to make +it as it ought to be.</p> +<p>‘The fire should have been here, at this side,’ +explained the husband. ‘Then one might have a +writing-table in the middle—books—and’ +(comprehensively) ‘all. It would be quite +coquettish—<i>ça serait tout-à-fait +coquet</i>.’ And he looked about him as though the +improvements were already made. 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. They were no great +thing, she explained. Fine birds were so dear. 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?)—they had sought to get a +<i>Hollandais</i> last winter in Rouen; but these cost fifteen +francs apiece—picture it—fifteen francs!</p> +<p>‘<i>Pour un tout petit oiseau</i>—For quite a +little bird,’ 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. It was, in the Scots phrase, a good hearing, and +put me in good humour with the world. 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. You should have seen +how they sympathised. They seemed half ready to give up +their barge and follow us. But these <i>canaletti</i> are +only gypsies semi-domesticated. The semi-domestication came +out in rather a pretty form. Suddenly Madam’s brow +darkened. ‘<i>Cependant</i>,’ she began, and +then stopped; and then began again by asking me if I were +single?</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said I.</p> +<p>‘And your friend who went by just now?’</p> +<p>He also was unmarried.</p> +<p>O then—all was well. 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>‘To see about one in the world,’ said the husband, +‘<i>il n’y a que ça</i>—there is nothing +else worth while. A man, look you, who sticks in his own +village like a bear,’ he went on, ‘—very well, +he sees nothing. And then death is the end of all. +And he has seen nothing.’</p> +<p>Madame reminded her husband of an Englishman who had come up +this canal in a steamer.</p> +<p>‘Perhaps Mr. Moens in the <i>Ytene</i>,’ I +suggested.</p> +<p>‘That’s it,’ assented the husband. +‘He had his wife and family with him, and servants. +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. Oh, he wrote enormously! I +suppose it was a wager.’</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 Étreux: +and we were soon following them along the side of a pleasant +valley full of hop-gardens and poplars. 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. 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 +‘boaties’—<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. The air +was clean and sweet among all these green fields and green things +growing. There was not a touch of autumn in the +weather. 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. 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. The water was yellow and turbulent, +swung with an angry eddy among half-submerged willows, and made +an angry clatter along stony shores. The course kept +turning and turning in a narrow and well-timbered valley. +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. 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. 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. On these different +manifestations the sun poured its clear and catholic looks. +The shadows lay as solid on the swift surface of the stream as on +the stable meadows. The light sparkled golden in the +dancing poplar leaves, and brought the hills into communion with +our eyes. 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. There are not many +things in nature more striking to man’s eye. 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. +Perhaps they are only a-cold, and no wonder, standing waist-deep +in the stream. Or perhaps they have never got accustomed to +the speed and fury of the river’s flux, or the miracle of +its continuous body. 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. It took it up +and shook it, and carried it masterfully away, like a Centaur +carrying off a nymph. To keep some command on our direction +required hard and diligent plying of the paddle. The river +was in such a hurry for the sea! Every drop of water ran in +a panic, like as many people in a frightened crowd. But +what crowd was ever so numerous, or so single-minded? 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. 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. But the reeds had to stand where they were; and +those who stand still are always timid advisers. As for us, +we could have shouted aloud. If this lively and beautiful +river were, indeed, a thing of death’s contrivance, the old +ashen rogue had famously outwitted himself with us. I was +living three to the minute. I was scoring points against +him every stroke of my paddle, every turn of the stream. 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. 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. 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. So every bit of +brisk living, and above all when it is healthful, is just so much +gained upon the wholesale filcher, death. We shall have the +less in our pockets, the more in our stomach, when he cries stand +and deliver. 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. We could no longer contain +ourselves and our content. The canoes were too small for +us; we must be out and stretch ourselves on shore. And so +in a green meadow we bestowed our limbs on the grass, and smoked +deifying tobacco and proclaimed the world excellent. 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. 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. 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. Thence some inspired +bell-ringer made the afternoon musical on a chime of bells. +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. It must have been to some +such measure that the spinners and the young maids sang, +‘Come away, Death,’ in the Shakespearian +Illyria. 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. 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. 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. The piece was at an end; shadow and silence +possessed the valley of the Oise. We took to the paddle +with glad hearts, like people who have sat out a noble +performance and returned to work. The river was more +dangerous here; it ran swifter, the eddies were more sudden and +violent. All the way down we had had our fill of +difficulties. 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. But the +chief sort of obstacle was a consequence of the late high +winds. 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. Often, again, when the tree +reached from bank to bank, there was room, by lying close, to +shoot through underneath, canoe and all. 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 ‘carry +over.’ This made a fine series of accidents in the +day’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. 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. 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. 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. 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. My thoughts were of a grave and almost sombre +character, but I still clung to my paddle. 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. You can never know, till you try it, what +a dead pull a river makes against a man. Death himself had +me by the heels, for this was his last ambuscado, and he must now +join personally in the fray. And still I held to my +paddle. 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. A poor figure I must have presented +to Burns upon the hill-top with his team. But there was the +paddle in my hand. On my tomb, if ever I have one, I mean +to get these words inscribed: ‘He clung to his +paddle.’</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. 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>. The +stream was too rapid for a man to mount with one canoe, let alone +two, upon his hands. So I crawled along the trunk to shore, +and proceeded down the meadows by the river-side. I was so +cold that my heart was sore. I had now an idea of my own +why the reeds so bitterly shivered. I could have given any +of them a lesson. The <i>Cigarette</i> remarked facetiously +that he thought I was ‘taking exercise’ as I drew +near, until he made out for certain that I was only twittering +with cold. I had a rub down with a towel, and donned a dry +suit from the india-rubber bag. But I was not my own man +again for the rest of the voyage. I had a queasy sense that +I wore my last dry clothes upon my body. The struggle had +tired me; and perhaps, whether I knew it or not, I was a little +dashed in spirit. The devouring element in the universe had +leaped out against me, in this green valley quickened by a +running stream. The bells were all very pretty in their +way, but I had heard some of the hollow notes of Pan’s +music. Would the wicked river drag me down by the heels, +indeed? and look so beautiful all the time? Nature’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-Benoîte, when we arrived.</p> +<h2><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>ORIGNY +SAINTE-BENOÎTE</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. 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 ‘<i>O +France</i>, <i>mes amours</i>.’ 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. She was not the +first nor the second who had been taken with the song. +There is something very pathetic in the love of the French +people, since the war, for dismal patriotic music-making. I +have watched a forester from Alsace while some one was singing +‘<i>Les malheurs de la France</i>,’ at a baptismal +party in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau. He arose from +the table and took his son aside, close by where I was +standing. ‘Listen, listen,’ he said, bearing on +the boy’s shoulder, ‘and remember this, my +son.’ 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. In what other country will +you find a patriotic ditty bring all the world into the +street? But affliction heightens love; and we shall never +know we are Englishmen until we have lost India. +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’s little book, which I purchased, was a +curious mixture. 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. +There you might read how the wood-cutter gloried in his axe, and +the gardener scorned to be ashamed of his spade. 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. The martial and the patriotic pieces, on the +other hand, were tearful, womanish productions one and all. +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. There was a number in the +hawker’s collection called ‘Conscrits +Français,’ which may rank among the most dissuasive +war-lyrics on record. It would not be possible to fight at +all in such a spirit. 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. But the thing will work its own cure, and a +sound-hearted and courageous people weary at length of snivelling +over their disasters. Already Paul Déroulède +has written some manly military verses. There is not much +of the trumpet note in them, perhaps, to stir a man’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. One feels as if +one would like to trust Déroulède with +something. It will be happy if he can so far inoculate his +fellow-countrymen that they may be trusted with their own +future. And in the meantime, here is an antidote to +‘French Conscripts’ and much other doleful +versification.</p> +<p>We had left the boats over-night in the custody of one whom we +shall call Carnival. 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. To this +person’s premises we strolled in the course of the day, and +found quite a little deputation inspecting the canoes. +There was a stout gentleman with a knowledge of the river, which +he seemed eager to impart. 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. 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. 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. I found myself very much of a hero whether I +would or not. The girls were full of little shudderings +over the dangers of our journey. And I thought it would be +ungallant not to take my cue from the ladies. My mishap of +yesterday, told in an off-hand way, produced a deep +sensation. It was Othello over again, with no less than +three Desdemonas and a sprinkling of sympathetic senators in the +background. Never were the canoes more flattered, or +flattered more adroitly.</p> +<p>‘It is like a violin,’ cried one of the girls in +an ecstasy.</p> +<p>‘I thank you for the word, mademoiselle,’ said +I. ‘All the more since there are people who call out +to me that it is like a coffin.’</p> +<p>‘Oh! but it is really like a violin. It is +finished like a violin,’ she went on.</p> +<p>‘And polished like a violin,’ added a senator.</p> +<p>‘One has only to stretch the cords,’ concluded +another, ‘and then tum-tumty-tum’—he imitated +the result with spirit.</p> +<p>Was not this a graceful little ovation? 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’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>‘You are very fortunate,’ 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. The girls proposed to +start with us on the morrow, if you please! And, jesting +apart, every one was anxious to know the hour of our +departure. 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. 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. We had been very merry with them a little while +ago, to be sure. But what was the etiquette of +Origny? 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? I consulted the +<i>Cigarette</i>.</p> +<p>‘Look,’ said he.</p> +<p>I looked. There were the four girls on the same spot; +but now four backs were turned to us, very upright and +conscious. Corporal Modesty had given the word of command, +and the well-disciplined picket had gone right-about-face like a +single person. 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. 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. It was too high +up, too large, and too steady for a kite; and as it was dark, it +could not be a star. 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. 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. It was a balloon, we +learned, which had left Saint Quentin at half-past five that +evening. Mighty composedly the majority of the grown people +took it. But we were English, and were soon running up the +hill with the best. 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. All the gold had withered out of the sky, and the +balloon had disappeared. 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? Probably the aeronauts were already +warming themselves at a farm chimney, for they say it is cold in +these unhomely regions of the air. The night fell +swiftly. Roadside trees and disappointed sightseers, +returning through the meadows, stood out in black against a +margin of low red sunset. 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-Benoîte 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. +‘That is how we are in France,’ said one. +‘Those who sit down with us are our friends.’ 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. 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. For such a great, +healthy man, his hair flourishing like Samson’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. +The other was a quiet, subdued person, blond and lymphatic and +sad, with something the look of a Dane: ‘<i>Tristes +têtes de Danois</i>!’ 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. We shall +never again see Gaston in his forest costume—he was Gaston +with all the world, in affection, not in disrespect—nor +hear him wake the echoes of Fontainebleau with the woodland +horn. Never again shall his kind smile put peace among all +races of artistic men, and make the Englishman at home in +France. Never more shall the sheep, who were not more +innocent at heart than he, sit all unconsciously for his +industrious pencil. 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. 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. 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’s worst as it +were the showers of spring. 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. If any one who reads these lines should +have a scene of sheep, in the manner of Jacques, with this fine +creature’s signature, let him tell himself that one of the +kindest and bravest of men has lent a hand to decorate his +lodging. There may be better pictures in the National +Gallery; but not a painter among the generations had a better +heart. Precious in the sight of the Lord of humanity, the +Psalms tell us, is the death of his saints. 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 Cæsar 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’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. On Saturday, describing some paltry +adventure at a duck-hunt, he broke a plate into a score of +fragments. 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. His wife appeared now and +again in the doorway of the room, where she was superintending +dinner, with a ‘Henri, you forget yourself,’ or a +‘Henri, you can surely talk without making such a +noise.’ Indeed, that was what the honest fellow could +not do. On the most trifling matter his eyes kindled, his +fist visited the table, and his voice rolled abroad in changeful +thunder. I never saw such a petard of a man; I think the +devil was in him. He had two favourite expressions: +‘it is logical,’ 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: ‘I am a proletarian, you see.’ Indeed, +we saw it very well. God forbid that ever I should find him +handling a gun in Paris streets! 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. 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. I should not admire it in a duke, of +course; but as times go, the trait is honourable in a +workman. On the other hand, it is not at all a strong thing +to put one’s reliance upon logic; and our own logic +particularly, for it is generally wrong. We never know +where we are to end, if once we begin following words or +doctors. There is an upright stock in a man’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. Reasons are as plentiful as +blackberries; and, like fisticuffs, they serve impartially with +all sides. Doctrines do not stand or fall by their proofs, +and are only logical in so far as they are cleverly put. An +able controversialist no more than an able general demonstrates +the justice of his cause. 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’s +shooting. 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>‘Here now,’ cried the landlord, brandishing a +plate, ‘here is a field of beet-root. Well. +Here am I then. I advance, do I not? <i>Eh bien</i>! +<i>sacristi</i>,’ 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>‘Marquis,’ I said, ‘if you take another step +I fire upon you. You have committed a dirtiness, +Marquis.’</p> +<p>Whereupon, it appeared, the Marquis touched his cap and +withdrew.</p> +<p>The landlord applauded noisily. ‘It was well +done,’ he said. ‘He did all that he +could. He admitted he was wrong.’ And then oath +upon oath. 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. The proletarian beat +the table like a drum in praise of Paris. ‘What is +Paris? Paris is the cream of France. There are no +Parisians: it is you and I and everybody who are Parisians. +A man has eighty chances per cent. to get on in the world in +Paris.’ 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. ‘<i>Eh bien</i>, <i>quoi</i>, +<i>c’est magnifique</i>, <i>ca</i>!’ cried he.</p> +<p>The sad Northman interfered in praise of a peasant’s +life; he thought Paris bad for men and women; +‘<i>centralisation</i>,’ said he—</p> +<p>But the landlord was at his throat in a moment. It was +all logical, he showed him; and all magnificent. +‘What a spectacle! What a glance for an +eye!’ 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. I could hardly have shot more +amiss. There was an instant silence, and a great wagging of +significant heads. 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. ‘Ask him a +bit,’ said they. ‘Just ask him.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, sir,’ said he in his quiet way, answering +me, although I had not spoken, ‘I am afraid there is less +liberty of opinion in France than you may imagine.’ +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. How, or why, +or when, was this lymphatic bagman martyred? We concluded +at once it was on some religious question, and brushed up our +memories of the Inquisition, which were principally drawn from +Poe’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. He was breaking his fast on white wine and raw onions, +in order to keep up the character of martyr, I conclude. We +had a long conversation, and made out what we wanted in spite of +his reserve. But here was a truly curious +circumstance. 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. It +was not till the very end that we discovered his heresy had been +political, or that he suspected our mistake. The terms and +spirit in which he spoke of his political beliefs were, in our +eyes, suited to religious beliefs. And <i>vice +versâ</i>.</p> +<p>Nothing could be more characteristic of the two +countries. Politics are the religion of France; as Nanty +Ewart would have said, ‘A d-d bad religion’; 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. 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’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. I think he +had also been rejected in marriage; but perhaps he had a +sentimental way of considering business which deceived me. +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. 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. 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. 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. He wished me to drink +with him, but I would none of his drinks. 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. We were +as pleasant as we could be with all but Carnival. 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. Poor Carnival! here was a +humiliation. 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! I +never saw anybody look more crestfallen than he. 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. Let us +hope it will be a lesson to him.</p> +<p>I would not have mentioned Carnival’s peccadillo had not +the thing been so uncommon in France. This, for instance, +was the only case of dishonesty or even sharp practice in our +whole voyage. We talk very much about our honesty in +England. It is a good rule to be on your guard wherever you +hear great professions about a very little piece of virtue. +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! We were loudly cheered, and for +a good way below, young lads and lasses ran along the bank still +cheering. What with current and paddling, we were flashing +along like swallows. It was no joke to keep up with us upon +the woody shore. But the girls picked up their skirts, as +if they were sure they had good ankles, and followed until their +breath was out. 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. Not Diana herself, although this was +more of a Venus after all, could have done a graceful thing more +gracefully. ‘Come back again!’ she cried; and +all the others echoed her; and the hills about Origny repeated +the words, ‘Come back.’ 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? There is no coming back, young ladies, on the +impetuous stream of life.</p> +<blockquote><p>‘The merchant bows unto the seaman’s +star,<br /> +The ploughman from the sun his season takes.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And we must all set our pocket-watches by the clock of +fate. There is a headlong, forthright tide, that bears away +man with his fancies like a straw, and runs fast in time and +space. 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. 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. And thus, O graces of Origny, although the +wandering fortune of my life should carry me back again to where +you await death’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. In these upper reaches it was still in a prodigious +hurry for the sea. 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. Sometimes it had to serve mills; and +being still a little river, ran very dry and shallow in the +meanwhile. We had to put our legs out of the boat, and +shove ourselves off the sand of the bottom with our feet. +And still it went on its way singing among the poplars, and +making a green valley in the world. After a good woman, and +a good book, and tobacco, there is nothing so agreeable on earth +as a river. 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. A difficult business, too; for the détours it +had to make are not to be counted. The geographers seem to +have given up the attempt; for I found no map represent the +infinite contortion of its course. A fact will say more +than any of them. 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. 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. The leaves danced and prattled in the wind all +round about us. The river hurried on meanwhile, and seemed +to chide at our delay. Little we cared. 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. 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. Hurry is the resource of the +faithless. Where a man can trust his own heart, and those +of his friends, to-morrow is as good as to-day. 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. 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. We met a man, a +gentleman, on the tow-path, who was much interested in our +cruise. 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. He was quite feverish at the end, +and pleaded demoniacal possession.</p> +<p>Moy (pronounce Moÿ) was a pleasant little village, +gathered round a château in a moat. The air was +perfumed with hemp from neighbouring fields. At the Golden +Sheep we found excellent entertainment. German shells from +the siege of La Fère, Nürnberg figures, gold-fish in +a bowl, and all manner of knick-knacks, embellished the public +room. The landlady was a stout, plain, short-sighted, +motherly body, with something not far short of a genius for +cookery. She had a guess of her excellence herself. +After every dish was sent in, she would come and look on at the +dinner for a while, with puckered, blinking eyes. +‘<i>C’est bon</i>, <i>n’est-ce pas</i>?’ +she would say; and when she had received a proper answer, she +disappeared into the kitchen. 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. Sweet was our rest in the +Golden Sheep at Moy.</p> +<h2><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>LA +FÈRE 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. The place, +moreover, invited to repose. People in elaborate shooting +costumes sallied from the château 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. 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. An imperturbable +demeanour comes from perfect patience. 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 Fère; but the dusk +was falling, and a small rain had begun before we stowed the +boats. La Fère is a fortified town in a plain, and +has two belts of rampart. Between the first and the second +extends a region of waste land and cultivated patches. Here +and there along the wayside were posters forbidding trespass in +the name of military engineering. At last, a second gateway +admitted us to the town itself. Lighted windows looked +gladsome, whiffs of comfortable cookery came abroad upon the +air. The town was full of the military reserve, out for the +French Autumn Manœuvres, and the reservists walked speedily +and wore their formidable great-coats. 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 Fère. Such a dinner as we were +going to eat! such beds as we were to sleep in!—and all the +while the rain raining on houseless folk over all the poplared +countryside! It made our mouths water. The inn bore +the name of some woodland animal, stag, or hart, or hind, I +forget which. But I shall never forget how spacious and how +eminently habitable it looked as we drew near. The carriage +entry was lighted up, not by intention, but from the mere +superfluity of fire and candle in the house. 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. 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. There was no doubt about the landlady, however: +there she was, heading her army, a flushed, angry woman, full of +affairs. Her I asked politely—too politely, thinks +the <i>Cigarette</i>—if we could have beds: she surveying +us coldly from head to foot.</p> +<p>‘You will find beds in the suburb,’ she +remarked. ‘We are too busy for the like of +you.’</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: +‘If we cannot sleep, we may at least dine,’—and +was for depositing my bag.</p> +<p>What a terrible convulsion of nature was that which followed +in the landlady’s face! She made a run at us, and +stamped her foot.</p> +<p>‘Out with you—out of the door!’ she +screeched. ‘<i>Sortez</i>! <i>sortez</i>! <i>sortez +par la porte</i>!’</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. Where were the boating +men of Belgium? where the Judge and his good wines? and where the +graces of Origny? Black, black was the night after the +firelit kitchen; but what was that to the blackness in our +heart? This was not the first time that I have been refused +a lodging. Often and often have I planned what I should do +if such a misadventure happened to me again. And nothing is +easier to plan. But to put in execution, with the heart +boiling at the indignity? 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. +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. 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. 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. There was no crime complete enough to +express my disapproval of human institutions. As for the +<i>Cigarette</i>, I never knew a man so altered. ‘We +have been taken for pedlars again,’ said he. +‘Good God, what it must be to be a pedlar in +reality!’ He particularised a complaint for every +joint in the landlady’s body. Timon was a +philanthropist alongside of him. And then, when he was at +the top of his maledictory bent, he would suddenly break away and +begin whimperingly to commiserate the poor. ‘I hope +to God,’ he said,—and I trust the prayer was +answered,—‘that I shall never be uncivil to a +pedlar.’ Was this the imperturbable +<i>Cigarette</i>? This, this was he. 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. We trudged in +and out of La Fère streets; we saw shops, and private +houses where people were copiously dining; we saw stables where +carters’ 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 Fère barracks? And +we, what had we?</p> +<p>There seemed to be no other inn in the whole town. +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. We were very sad people indeed by the time +we had gone all over La Fère; and the <i>Cigarette</i> had +already made up his mind to lie under a poplar and sup off a loaf +of bread. But right at the other end, the house next the +town-gate was full of light and bustle. +‘<i>Bazin</i>, <i>aubergiste</i>, <i>loge à +pied</i>,’ was the sign. ‘<i>À la Croix +de Malte</i>.’ 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. We asked him to share our wine; but +he excused himself, having pledged reservists all day long. +This was a very different type of the workman-innkeeper from the +bawling disputatious fellow at Origny. He also loved Paris, +where he had worked as a decorative painter in his youth. +There were such opportunities for self-instruction there, he +said. And if any one has read Zola’s description of +the workman’s marriage-party visiting the Louvre, they +would do well to have heard Bazin by way of antidote. He +had delighted in the museums in his youth. ‘One sees +there little miracles of work,’ he said; ‘that is +what makes a good workman; it kindles a spark.’ We +asked him how he managed in La Fère. ‘I am +married,’ he said, ‘and I have my pretty +children. But frankly, it is no life at all. From +morning to night I pledge a pack of good enough fellows who know +nothing.’</p> +<p>It faired as the night went on, and the moon came out of the +clouds. We sat in front of the door, talking softly with +Bazin. 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. Madame Bazin came out after a while; she was tired +with her day’s work, I suppose; and she nestled up to her +husband and laid her head upon his breast. He had his arm +about her, and kept gently patting her on the shoulder. I +think Bazin was right, and he was really married. Of how +few people can the same be said!</p> +<p>Little did the Bazins know how much they served us. We +were charged for candles, for food and drink, and for the beds we +slept in. But there was nothing in the bill for the +husband’s pleasant talk; nor for the pretty spectacle of +their married life. And there was yet another item +unchanged. For these people’s politeness really set +us up again in our own esteem. 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! Although we have our +purses continually in our hand, the better part of service goes +still unrewarded. But I like to fancy that a grateful +spirit gives as good as it gets. 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 Fère the river runs +through a piece of open pastoral country; green, opulent, loved +by breeders; called the Golden Valley. In wide sweeps, and +with a swift and equable gallop, the ceaseless stream of water +visits and makes green the fields. Kine, and horses, and +little humorous donkeys, browse together in the meadows, and come +down in troops to the river-side to drink. 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. It gives a feeling as of +great, unfenced pampas, and the herds of wandering nations. +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 Fère; and soon the +cannon of heaven joined in that loud play. Two continents +of cloud met and exchanged salvos overhead; while all round the +horizon we could see sunshine and clear air upon the hills. +What with the guns and the thunder, the herds were all frightened +in the Golden Valley. 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. It had a martial sound, +like cavalry charges. 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. 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. 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. I daresay +we continued to paddle in that child’s dreams for many a +night after.</p> +<p>Sun and shower alternated like day and night, making the hours +longer by their variety. 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. I decided I should buy a mackintosh at Noyon. +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. The +<i>Cigarette</i> was greatly amused by these ebullitions. +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. 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. 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. As the streets drew +near to this presiding genius, through the market-place under the +Hôtel de Ville, they grew emptier and more composed. +Blank walls and shuttered windows were turned to the great +edifice, and grass grew on the white causeway. ‘Put +off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou +standest is holy ground.’ The Hôtel 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. I have seldom +looked on the east-end of a church with more complete +sympathy. 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. Hollow-backed buttresses carry +vases, which figure for the stern lanterns. 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. At any moment it might be a hundred feet away from +you, climbing the next billow. At any moment a window might +open, and some old admiral thrust forth a cocked hat, and proceed +to take an observation. 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. 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. 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 Château Coucy.</p> +<p>I find I never weary of great churches. It is my +favourite kind of mountain scenery. 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. The height of spires cannot be taken by +trigonometry; they measure absurdly short, but how tall they are +to the admiring eye! 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. I could never fathom +how a man dares to lift up his voice to preach in a +cathedral. What is he to say that will not be an +anti-climax? For though I have heard a considerable variety +of sermons, I never yet heard one that was so expressive as a +cathedral. ’Tis the best preacher itself, and +preaches day and night; not only telling you of man’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;—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. 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. Four +or five priests and as many choristers were singing +<i>Miserere</i> before the high altar when I went in. There +was no congregation but a few old women on chairs and old men +kneeling on the pavement. 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. The priests and +choristers arose from their knees and followed after, singing +‘Ave Mary’ as they went. In this order they +made the circuit of the cathedral, passing twice before me where +I leaned against a pillar. The priest who seemed of most +consequence was a strange, down-looking old man. 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. 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 ‘Ave +Mary’ like a garrison catch. The little girls were +timid and grave. As they footed slowly up the aisle, each +one took a moment’s glance at the Englishman; and the big +nun who played marshal fairly stared him out of +countenance. 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. +Indeed it would be difficult not to understand the +<i>Miserere</i>, which I take to be the composition of an +atheist. 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. So far I am at one with the +Catholics:—an odd name for them, after all? But why, +in God’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? 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. All Noyon is blotted out for me by these superior +memories; and I do not care to say more about the place. 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. 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 COMPIÈGNE</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. That was like to be our +case, the day we left Noyon. 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. 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. The husband donned +a game-bag and strode out to shoot; the wife sat in a far corner +watching us. I think we were worth looking at. We +grumbled over the misfortune of La Fère; we forecast other +La Fères in the future;—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. Talking of +La Fère put us talking of the reservists.</p> +<p>‘Reservery,’ said he, ‘seems a pretty mean +way to spend ones autumn holiday.’</p> +<p>‘About as mean,’ returned I dejectedly, ‘as +canoeing.’</p> +<p>‘These gentlemen travel for their pleasure?’ asked +the landlady, with unconscious irony.</p> +<p>It was too much. The scales fell from our eyes. +Another wet day, it was determined, and we put the boats into the +train.</p> +<p>The weather took the hint. That was our last +wetting. 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. At the same time, the river began to give us a +better outlook into the country. 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. Here were all our old friends; the <i>Deo +Gratias</i> of Condé 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. 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. For there we were joined by the Aisne, +already a far-travelled river and fresh out of Champagne. +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. He became a tranquil +feature in the scene. The trees and towns saw themselves in +him, as in a mirror. 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. Truly we were coming into halcyon +weather upon all accounts, and were floated towards the sea like +gentlemen.</p> +<p>We made Compiègne as the sun was going down: a fine +profile of a town above the river. Over the bridge, a +regiment was parading to the drum. People loitered on the +quay, some fishing, some looking idly at the stream. And as +the two boats shot in along the water, we could see them pointing +them out and speaking one to another. 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 +COMPIÈGNE</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> put up at a big, bustling hotel +in Compiègne, where nobody observed our presence.</p> +<p>Reservery and general <i>militarismus</i> (as the Germans call +it) were rampant. 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>cafés</i>; and the streets +kept sounding all day long with military music. 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. Each man inclined at his own angle, and jolted to +his own convenience, as he went. 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. Who that has seen it can forget the drum-major +pacing in front, the drummers’ tiger-skins, the +pipers’ swinging plaids, the strange elastic rhythm of the +whole regiment footing it in time—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. I have never forgotten that girl; and I think she +very nearly deserves a statue. To call her a young lady, +with all its niminy associations, would be to offer her an +insult. 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. I remember once seeing a company pass through +the forest of Fontainebleau, on the Chailly road, between the Bas +Bréau and the Reine Blanche. One fellow walked a +little before the rest, and sang a loud, audacious marching +song. The rest bestirred their feet, and even swung their +muskets in time. A young officer on horseback had hard ado +to keep his countenance at the words. 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 Compiègne was the town-hall. +I doted upon the town-hall. It is a monument of Gothic +insecurity, all turreted, and gargoyled, and slashed, and +bedizened with half a score of architectural fancies. 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. +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. 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’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 Compiègne. 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. 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. 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 +manœuvres, 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. There is something highly absurd in the exposition +of such toys to the outrages of winter on a housetop. They +would be more in keeping in a glass case before a Nürnberg +clock. 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? 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 Compiègne 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 Compiègne. The spell was broken. +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>‘Out of my country and myself I go.’ I wish +to take a dive among new conditions for a while, as into another +element. 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. After my journey is over, I shall not +fail to read your admirable letters with the attention they +deserve. 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. You tug the string, and I feel that I am a +tethered bird. You pursue me all over Europe with the +little vexations that I came away to avoid. There is no +discharge in the war of life, I am well aware; but shall there +not be so much as a week’s furlough?</p> +<p>We were up by six, the day we were to leave. They had +taken so little note of us that I hardly thought they would have +condescended on a bill. 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. No one cared to know about +us. It is not possible to rise before a village; but +Compiègne 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. 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. <i>Kling</i> went they on the +bells for the half-past six as we went by. 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—early and late—who were already beating +the linen in their floating lavatory on the river. They +were very merry and matutinal in their ways; plunged their arms +boldly in, and seemed not to feel the shock. It would be +dispiriting to me, this early beginning and first cold dabble of +a most dispiriting day’s work. But I believe they +would have been as unwilling to change days with us as we could +be to change with them. 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. As long as the Oise +was a small rural river, it took us near by people’s doors, +and we could hold a conversation with natives in the riparian +fields. But now that it had grown so wide, the life along +shore passed us by at a distance. It was the same +difference as between a great public highway and a country +by-path that wanders in and out of cottage gardens. We now +lay in towns, where nobody troubled us with questions; we had +floated into civilised life, where people pass without +salutation. 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’s toes. In these waters we were no longer strange +birds, and nobody supposed we had travelled farther than from the +last town. I remember, when we came into L’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. The company in one boat actually thought they +recognised me for a neighbour. Was there ever anything more +wounding? All the romance had come down to that. 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’s wonder sprang a sort of light and passing intimacy +all along our route. 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. You get +entertainment pretty much in proportion as you give. 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. 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. Even the showers of rain had a +revivifying effect, and shook up the brain from torpor. 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. 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. It was the apotheosis of stupidity.</p> +<p>We ceased reading entirely. 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. 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. The less I saw of the novel, the better I liked +it: a pregnant reflection. 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. I have always been fond of maps, and can +voyage in an atlas with the greatest enjoyment. 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. But we thumbed our charts, on these evenings, +with the blankest unconcern. We cared not a fraction for +this place or that. 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. We had no romance in the +matter; there was nobody so fancy-free. 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. I think I made a god of my belly. 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. Sometimes we paddled +alongside for a while and whetted each other with gastronomical +fancies as we went. 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. 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’s Guide</i>. But there is a romance about +the matter after all. Probably the table has more devotees +than love; and I am sure that food is much more generally +entertaining than scenery. Do you give in, as Walt Whitman +would say, that you are any the less immortal for that? The +true materialism is to be ashamed of what we are. 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. 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 Condé, or the <i>Four Sons of +Aymon</i>—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. 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. 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. +But these luminous intervals were only partially luminous. +A little more of us was called into action, but never the +whole. The central bureau of nerves, what in some moods we +call Ourselves, enjoyed its holiday without disturbance, like a +Government Office. The great wheels of intelligence turned +idly in the head, like fly-wheels, grinding no grist. I +have gone on for half an hour at a time, counting my strokes and +forgetting the hundreds. I flatter myself the beasts that +perish could not underbid that, as a low form of +consciousness. And what a pleasure it was! What a +hearty, tolerant temper did it bring about! 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 longævous 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. 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. There was less +<i>me</i> and more <i>not-me</i> than I was accustomed to +expect. I looked on upon somebody else, who managed the +paddling; I was aware of somebody else’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. 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. I had dwindled into quite a little thing in a +corner of myself. I was isolated in my own skull. +Thoughts presented themselves unbidden; they were not my +thoughts, they were plainly some one else’s; and I +considered them like a part of the landscape. 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; ’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. It may be best +figured by supposing yourself to get dead drunk, and yet keep +sober to enjoy it. 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. 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. It was the farthest piece of travel +accomplished. 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;—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 +Compiègne to Pont Sainte Maxence. I was abroad a +little after six the next morning. The air was biting, and +smelt of frost. In an open place a score of women wrangled +together over the day’s market; and the noise of their +negotiation sounded thin and querulous like that of sparrows on a +winter’s morning. The rare passengers blew into their +hands, and shuffled in their wooden shoes to set the blood +agog. The streets were full of icy shadow, although the +chimneys were smoking overhead in golden sunshine. 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’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. It +was scarcely so cold in the church as it was without, but it +looked colder. 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. Two +priests sat in the chancel, reading and waiting penitents; and +out in the nave, one very old woman was engaged in her +devotions. 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. She went +from chair to chair, from altar to altar, circumnavigating the +church. To each shrine she dedicated an equal number of +beads and an equal length of time. 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. She would risk nothing on +the credit of any single intercessor. Out of the whole +company of saints and angels, not one but was to suppose himself +her champion elect against the Great Assize! 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. Her eyes, with which +she interrogated mine, were vacant of sense. It depends on +what you call seeing, whether you might not call her blind. +Perhaps she had known love: perhaps borne children, suckled them +and given them pet names. 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. It was not without a gulp +that I escaped into the streets and the keen morning air. +Morning? why, how tired of it she would be before night! and if +she did not sleep, how then? 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. 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’s +paddle: the old devotee stuck in my throat sorely. 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. 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. 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. But I prefer to mention a girls’ +boarding-school, which had an interest for us because it was a +girls’ boarding-school, and because we imagined we had +rather an interest for it. At least—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. 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! 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. 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. 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. The thing was neatly +executed, and would have made the delight of a party of boys on +the waterside. But what tickled me was the gravity of the +peril to be conjured. 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. 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! 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. 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. Whenever time is a consideration, Saint Joseph is +the proper intermediary. 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. 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. Whether people’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. 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. The self-made man is the funniest +windbag after all! 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. The Association of the Living Rosary (of +which I had never previously heard) is responsible for +that. 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. Pope Gregory is not so +imposing, but he is nearer hand. 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>zélatrice</i>: the leader of the +band. Indulgences, plenary and partial, follow on the +performance of the duties of the Association. ‘The +partial indulgences are attached to the recitation of the +rosary.’ On ‘the recitation of the required +<i>dizaine</i>,’ a partial indulgence promptly +follows. 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. +‘All these indulgences,’ it appeared, ‘are +applicable to souls in purgatory.’ For God’s +sake, ye ladies of Creil, apply them all to the souls in +purgatory without delay! Burns would take no hire for his +last songs, preferring to serve his country out of unmixed +love. 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. They cannot look so merely ugly +and mean to the faithful as they do to me. I see that as +clearly as a proposition in Euclid. For these believers are +neither weak nor wicked. They can put up their tablet +commanding Saint Joseph for his despatch, as if he were still a +village carpenter; they can ‘recite the required +<i>dizaine</i>,’ 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. +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! 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>PRÉCY AND THE MARIONNETTES</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> made Précy about +sundown. The plain is rich with tufts of poplar. In a +wide, luminous curve, the Oise lay under the hillside. A +faint mist began to rise and confound the different distances +together. 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. 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. 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. 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. We were within +sniff of Paris, it seemed. And here were females of our own +species playing croquet, just as if Précy had been a place +in real life, instead of a stage in the fairyland of +travel. 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 Précy is the worst inn in France. Not +even in Scotland have I found worse fare. It was kept by a +brother and sister, neither of whom was out of their teens. +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. We found pieces of +loo-warm pork among the salad, and pieces of unknown yielding +substance in the <i>ragoût</i>. 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. In the midst of these +diversions, bang went a drum past the house, and a hoarse voice +began issuing a proclamation. 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’ 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. 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. +They were always quite full—a bumper house—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. It certainly +would have tried an angel’s temper. The showman +roared from the proscenium; he had been all over France, and +nowhere, nowhere, ‘not even on the borders of +Germany,’ had he met with such misconduct. Such +thieves and rogues and rascals, as he called them! And +every now and again, the wife issued on another round, and added +her shrill quota to the tirade. I remarked here, as +elsewhere, how far more copious is the female mind in the +material of insult. The audience laughed in high +good-humour over the man’s declamations; but they bridled +and cried aloud under the woman’s pungent sallies. +She picked out the sore points. She had the honour of the +village at her mercy. Voices answered her angrily out of +the crowd, and received a smarting retort for their +trouble. 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. 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. 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. +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. There +is nobody, under thirty, so dead but his heart will stir a little +at sight of a gypsies’ camp. ‘We are not +cotton-spinners all’; or, at least, not all through. +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. 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-’n-aff</i>, and perhaps performed in an English +music-hall. He is a countryman of mine by profession. +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. 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. He has +something else to think about beside the money-box. 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. He has +gone upon a pilgrimage that will last him his life long, because +there is no end to it short of perfection. 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. ‘’Tis better to have loved +and lost.’ 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? The louts he meets +at church never had a fancy above Audrey’s snood; but there +is a reminiscence in Endymion’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’s countenance. I remember once dining with a +party in the inn at Château Landon. 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. 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. My +companion and I wondered greatly who and what he could be. +It was fair-time in Château 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. 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. 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. 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. +‘You should see my old woman,’ said he, and nodded +his beery countenance. One night they performed in the +stable-yard, with flaring lamps—a wretched exhibition, +coldly looked upon by a village audience. 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. 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. 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. ‘I am afraid,’ said he, ‘that +Monsieur will think me altogether a beggar; but I have another +demand to make upon him.’ I began to hate him on the +spot. ‘We play again to-night,’ he went +on. ‘Of course, I shall refuse to accept any more +money from Monsieur and his friends, who have been already so +liberal. But our programme of to-night is something truly +creditable; and I cling to the idea that Monsieur will honour us +with his presence.’ And then, with a shrug and a +smile: ‘Monsieur understands—the vanity of an +artist!’ Save the mark! The vanity of an +artist! 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. It is +nearly two years since I saw him first, and indeed I hope I may +see him often again. 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>‘<i>Mesdames et Messieurs</i>,</p> +<p>‘<i>Mademoiselle Ferrario et M. de Vauversin auront +l’honneur de chanter ce soir les morceaux suivants</i>.</p> +<p>‘<i>Madermoiselle Ferrario +chantera—Mignon—Oiseaux +Légers—France—Des Français dorment +là—Le château bleu—Où voulez-vous +aller</i>?</p> +<p>‘<i>M. de Vauversin—Madame Fontaine et M. +Robinet—Les plongeurs à cheval—Le Mari +mécontent—Tais-toi, gamin—Mon voisin +l’original—Heureux comme ça—Comme on est +trompé</i>.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>They made a stage at one end of the +<i>salle-à-manger</i>. And what a sight it was to +see M. de Vauversin, with a cigarette in his mouth, twanging a +guitar, and following Mademoiselle Ferrario’s eyes with the +obedient, kindly look of a dog! 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. He was once an actor in +the Châtelet; but he contracted a nervous affection from +the heat and glare of the footlights, which unfitted him for the +stage. At this crisis Mademoiselle Ferrario, otherwise +Mademoiselle Rita of the Alcazar, agreed to share his wandering +fortunes. ‘I could never forget the generosity of +that lady,’ said he. 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. 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. 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. 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. Local authorities look with such an evil eye upon +the strolling artist. Alas! I know it well, who have been +myself taken for one, and pitilessly incarcerated on the strength +of the misapprehension. Once, M. de Vauversin visited a +commissary of police for permission to sing. The +commissary, who was smoking at his ease, politely doffed his hat +upon the singer’s entrance. ‘Mr. +Commissary,’ he began, ‘I am an artist.’ +And on went the commissary’s hat again. No courtesy +for the companions of Apollo! ‘They are as degraded +as that,’ 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. Some one said, it would be +better to have a million of money down, and Mlle. Ferrario +admitted that she would prefer that mightily. ‘<i>Eh +bien</i>, <i>moi non</i>;—not I,’ cried De Vauversin, +striking the table with his hand. ‘If any one is a +failure in the world, is it not I? I had an art, in which I +have done things well—as well as some—better perhaps +than others; and now it is closed against me. I must go +about the country gathering coppers and singing nonsense. +Do you think I regret my life? Do you think I would rather +be a fat burgess, like a calf? Not I! 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. And to know what +art is, is to have an interest for ever, such as no burgess can +find in his petty concerns. <i>Tenez</i>, <i>messieurs</i>, +<i>je vais vous le dire</i>—it is like a +religion.’</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. 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? +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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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’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. +But the villagers of Précy seemed delighted. Indeed, +so long as a thing is an exhibition, and you pay to see it, it is +nearly certain to amuse. 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! 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’ sail +little remains in my mind, and nothing whatever in my +note-book. The river streamed on steadily through pleasant +river-side landscapes. 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. A symphony in forget-me-not; I think +Théophile Gautier might thus have characterised that two +days’ panorama. 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. 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. It seemed now so sure of its end, so +strong and easy in its gait, like a grown man full of +determination. 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. To the civilised man, there must come, sooner or +later, a desire for civilisation. 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. 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. We had made a long +détour 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. 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. 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> + + +***** This file should be named 534-h.htm or 534-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/534 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/534-h/images/p0ab.jpg b/534-h/images/p0ab.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b210354 --- /dev/null +++ b/534-h/images/p0ab.jpg diff --git a/534-h/images/p0as.jpg b/534-h/images/p0as.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1215437 --- /dev/null +++ b/534-h/images/p0as.jpg diff --git a/534-h/images/p0bb.jpg b/534-h/images/p0bb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6512cf --- /dev/null +++ b/534-h/images/p0bb.jpg diff --git a/534-h/images/p0bs.jpg b/534-h/images/p0bs.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3cbcc71 --- /dev/null +++ b/534-h/images/p0bs.jpg |
