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diff --git a/old/7trav10.txt b/old/7trav10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a6db52 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7trav10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6901 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Traveller in Little Things, by W. H. Hudson +#11 in our series by W. H. Hudson + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Traveller in Little Things + +Author: W. H. Hudson + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7982] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 8, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Joshua Hutchinson, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS + +BY + +W. H. HUDSON + + + + +NOTE + + +Of the sketches contained in this volume, fourteen have appeared in the +following periodicals: _The New Statesman_, _The Saturday +Review_, _The Nation_, and _The Cornhill Magazine_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. HOW I FOUND MY TITLE + II. THE OLD MAN'S DELUSION + III. AS A TREE FALLS + IV. BLOOD: A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + V. A STORY OF LONG DESCENT + VI. A SECOND STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + VII. A THIRD STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + VIII. THE TWO WHITE HOUSES: A MEMORY + IX. DANDY: A STORY OF A DOG + X. THE SAMPHIRE GATHERER + XI. A SURREY VILLAGE + XII. A WILTSHIRE VILLAGE + XIII. HER OWN VILLAGE + XIV. APPLE BLOSSOMS AND A LOST VILLAGE + XV. THE VANISHING CURTSEY + XVI. LITTLE GIRLS I HAVE MET + XVII. MILLICENT AND ANOTHER + XVIII. FRECKLES + XIX. ON CROMER BEACH + XX. DIMPLES + XXI. WILD FLOWERS AND LITTLE GIRLS + XXII. A LITTLE GIRL LOST + XXIII. A SPRAY OF SOUTHERNWOOD + XXIV. IN PORCHESTER CHURCHYARD + XXV. HOMELESS + XXVI. THE STORY OF A SKULL + XXVII. A STORY OF A WALNUT + XXVIII. A STORY OF A JACKDAW + XXIX. A WONDERFUL STORY OF A MACKEREL + XXX. STRANGERS YET + XXXI. THE RETURN OF THE CHIFF-CHAFF + XXXII. A WASP AT TABLE + XXXIII. WASPS AND MEN + XXXIV. IN CHITTERNE CHURCHYARD + XXXV. A HAUNTER OF CHURCHYARDS + XXXVI. THE DEAD AND THE LIVING + XXXVII. A STORY OF THREE POEMS + + + + +A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS + + +I + +HOW I FOUND MY TITLE + + +It is surely a rare experience for an unclassified man, past middle +age, to hear himself accurately and aptly described for the first time +in his life by a perfect stranger! This thing happened to me at +Bristol, some time ago, in the way I am about to relate. I slept at a +Commercial Hotel, and early next morning was joined in the big empty +coffee-room, smelling of stale tobacco, by an intensely respectable- +looking old gentleman, whose hair was of silvery whiteness, and who +wore gold-rimmed spectacles and a heavy gold watch-chain with many +seals attached thereto; whose linen was of the finest, and whose outer +garments, including the trousers, were of the newest and blackest +broadcloth. A glossier and at the same time a more venerable-looking +"commercial" I had never seen in the west country, nor anywhere in the +three kingdoms. He could not have improved his appearance if he had +been on his way to attend the funeral of a millionaire. But with all +his superior look he was quite affable, and talked fluently and +instructively on a variety of themes, including trade, politics, and +religion. Perceiving that he had taken me for what I was not--one of +the army in which he served, but of inferior rank--I listened +respectfully as became me. Finally he led the talk to the subject of +agriculture, and the condition and prospects of farming in England. +Here I perceived that he was on wholly unfamiliar ground, and in return +for the valuable information he had given me on other and more +important subjects, I proceeded to enlighten him. When I had finished +stating my facts and views, he said: "I perceive that you know a great +deal more about the matter than I do, and I will now tell you why you +know more. You are a traveller in little things--in something very +small--which takes you into the villages and hamlets, where you meet +and converse with small farmers, innkeepers, labourers and their wives, +with other persons who live on the land. In this way you get to hear a +good deal about rent and cost of living, and what the people are able +and not able to do. Now I am out of all that; I never go to a village +nor see a farmer. I am a traveller in something very large. In the +south and west I visit towns like Salisbury, Exeter, Bristol, +Southampton; then I go to the big towns in the Midlands and the North, +and to Glasgow and Edinburgh; and afterwards to Belfast and Dublin. It +would simply be a waste of time for me to visit a town of less than +fifty or sixty thousand inhabitants." + +He then gave me some particulars concerning the large thing he +travelled in; and when I had expressed all the interest and admiration +the subject called for, he condescendingly invited me to tell him +something about my own small line. + +Now this was wrong of him; it was a distinct contravention of an +unwritten law among "Commercials" that no person must be interrogated +concerning the nature of his business. The big and the little man, once +inside the hostel, which is their club as well, are on an equality. I +did not remind my questioner of this--I merely smiled and said nothing, +and he of course understood and respected my reticence. With a pleasant +nod and a condescending let-us-say-no-more-about-it wave of the hand he +passed on to other matters. + +Notwithstanding that I was amused at his mistake, the label he had +supplied me with was something to be grateful for, and I am now finding +a use for it. And I think that if he, my labeller, should see this +sketch by chance and recognise himself in it, he will say with his +pleasant smile and wave of the hand, "Oh, that's his line! Yes, yes, I +described him rightly enough, thinking it haberdashery or floral texts +for cottage bedrooms, or something of that kind; I didn't imagine he +was a traveller in anything quite so small as this." + + + + +II + +THE OLD MAN'S DELUSION + + +We know that our senses are subject to decay, that from our middle +years they are decaying all the time; but happily it is as if we didn't +know and didn't believe. The process is too gradual to trouble us; we +can only say, at fifty or sixty or seventy, that it is doubtless the +case that we can't see as far or as well, or hear or smell as sharply, +as we did a decade ago, but that we don't notice the difference. Lately +I met an extreme case, that of a man well past seventy who did not +appear to know that his senses had faded at all. He noticed that the +world was not what it had been to him, as it had appeared, for example, +when he was a plough-boy, the time of his life he remembered most +vividly, but it was not the fault of his senses; the mirror was all +right, it was the world that had grown dim. I found him at the gate +where I was accustomed to go of an evening to watch the sun set over +the sea of yellow corn and the high green elms beyond, which divide the +cornfields from the Maidenhead Thicket. An old agricultural labourer, +he had a grey face and grey hair and throat-beard; he stooped a good +deal, and struck me as being very feeble and long past work. But he +told me that he still did some work in the fields. The older farmers +who had employed him for many years past gave him a little to do; he +also had his old-age pension, and his children helped to keep him in +comfort. He was quite well off, he said, compared to many. There was a +subdued and sombre cheerfulness in him, and when I questioned him about +his early life, he talked very freely in his slow old peasant way. He +was born in a village in the Vale of Aylesbury, and began work as a +ploughboy on a very big farm. He had a good master and was well fed, +the food being bacon, vegetables, and homemade bread, also suet pudding +three times a week. But what he remembered best was a rice pudding +which came by chance in his way during his first year on the farm. +There was some of the pudding left in a dish after the family had +dined, and the farmer said to his wife, "Give it to the boy"; so he had +it, and never tasted anything so nice in all his life. How he enjoyed +that pudding! He remembered it now as if it had been yesterday, though +it was sixty-five years ago. + +He then went on to talk of the changes that had been going on in the +world since that happy time; but the greatest change of all was in the +appearance of things. He had had a hard life, and the hardest time was +when he was a ploughboy and had to work so hard that he was tired to +death at the end of every day; yet at four o'clock in the morning he +was ready and glad to get up and go out to work all day again because +everything looked so bright, and it made him happy just to look up at +the sky and listen to the birds. In those days there were larks. The +number of larks was wonderful; the sound of their singing filled the +whole air. He didn't want any greater happiness than to hear them +singing over his head. A few days ago, not more than half a mile from +where we were standing, he was crossing a field when a lark got up +singing near him and went singing over his head. He stopped to listen +and said to himself, "Well now, that do remind me of old times!" + +"For you know," he went on, "it is a rare thing to hear a lark now. +What's become of all the birds I used to see I don't know. I remember +there was a very pretty bird at that time called the yellow-hammer--a +bird all a shining yellow, the prettiest of all the birds." He never +saw nor heard that bird now, he assured me. + +That was how the old man talked, and I never told him that yellow +hammers could be seen and heard all day long anywhere on the common +beyond the green wall of the elms, and that a lark was singing loudly +high up over our heads while he was talking of the larks he had +listened to sixty-five years ago in the Vale of Aylesbury, and saying +that it was a rare thing to hear that bird now. + + + + +III + +AS A TREE FALLS + + +At the Green Dragon, where I refreshed myself at noon with bread and +cheese and beer, I was startlingly reminded of a simple and, I suppose, +familiar psychological fact, yet one which we are never conscious of +except at rare moments when by chance it is thrust upon us. + +There are many Green Dragons in this world of wayside inns, even as +there are many White Harts, Red Lions, Silent Women and other +incredible things; but when I add that my inn is in a Wiltshire +village, the headquarters of certain gentlemen who follow a form of +sport which has long been practically obsolete in this country, and +indeed throughout the civilised world, some of my readers will have no +difficulty in identifying it. + +After lunching I had an hour's pleasant conversation with the genial +landlord and his buxom good-looking wife; they were both natives of a +New Forest village and glad to talk about it with one who knew it +intimately. During our talk I happened to use the words--I forget what +about--"As a tree falls so must it lie." The landlady turned on me her +dark Hampshire eyes with a sudden startled and pained look in them, and +cried: "Oh, please don't say that!' + +"Why not?" I asked. "It is in the Bible, and a quite common saying." + +"I know," she returned, "but I can't bear it--I hate to hear it!" + +She would say no more, but my curiosity was stirred, and I set about +persuading her to tell me. "Ah, yes," I said, "I can guess why. It's +something in your past life--a sad story of one of your family--one +very much loved perhaps--who got into trouble and was refused all help +from those who might have saved him." + +"No," she said, "it all happened before my time--long before. I never +knew her." And then presently she told me the story. + +When her father was a young man he lived and worked with his father, a +farmer in Hampshire and a widower. There were several brothers and +sisters, and one of the sisters, named Eunice, was most loved by all of +them and was her father's favourite on account of her beauty and sweet +disposition. Unfortunately she became engaged to a young man who was +not liked by the father, and when she refused to break her engagement +to please him he was dreadfully angry and told her that if she went +against him and threw herself away on that worthless fellow he would +forbid her the house and would never see or speak to her again. + +Being of an affectionate disposition and fond of her father it grieved +her sorely to disobey him, but her love compelled her, and by-and-by +she went away and was married in a neighbouring village where her lover +had his home. It was not a happy marriage, and after a few anxious +years she fell into a wasting illness, and when it became known to her +that she was near her end she sent a message by a brother to the old +father to come and see her before she died. She had never ceased to +love him, and her one insistent desire was to receive his forgiveness +and blessing before finishing her life. His answer was, "As a tree +falls so shall it lie." He would not go near her. Shortly afterwards +the unhappy young wife passed away. + +The landlady added that the brother who had taken the message was her +father, that he was now eighty-two years old and still spoke of his +long dead and greatly loved sister, and always said he had never +forgiven and would never forgive his father, dead half a century ago, +for having refused to go to his dying daughter and for speaking those +cruel words. + + + + +IV + +"BLOOD" + +A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +A certain titled lady, great in the social world, was walking down the +village street between two ladies of the village, and their +conversation was about some person known to the two who had behaved in +the noblest manner in difficult circumstances, and the talk ran on +between the two like a duet, the great lady mostly silent and paying +but little attention to it. At length the subject was exhausted, and as +a proper conclusion to round the discourse off, one of them remarked: +"It is what I have always said,--there's nothing like blood!" Whereupon +the great person returned, "I don't agree with you: it strikes me you +two are always praising blood, and I think it perfectly horrid. The +very sight of a black pudding for instance turns me sick and makes me +want to be a vegetarian." + +The others smiled and laboriously explained that they were not praising +blood as an article of diet, but had used the word in its other and +partly metamorphical sense. They simply meant that as a rule persons of +good blood or of old families had better qualities and a higher +standard of conduct and action than others. + +The other listened and said nothing, for although of good blood herself +she was an out-and-out democrat, a burning Radical, burning bright in +the forests of the night of dark old England, and she considered that +all these lofty notions about old families and higher standards were +confined to those who knew little or nothing about the life of the +upper classes. + +She, the aristocrat, was wrong, and the two village ladies, members of +the middle class, were right, although they were without a sense of +humour and did not know that their distinguished friend was poking a +little fun at them when she spoke about black puddings. + +They were right, and it was never necessary for Herbert Spencer to tell +us that the world is right in looking for nobler motives and ideals, a +higher standard of conduct, better, sweeter manners, from those who are +highly placed than from the ruck of men; and as this higher, better +life, which is only possible in the leisured classes, is correlated +with the "aspects which please," the regular features and personal +beauty, the conclusion is the beauty and goodness or "inward +perfections" are correlated. + +All this is common, universal knowledge: to all men of all races and in +all parts of the world it comes as a shock to hear that a person of a +noble countenance has been guilty of an ignoble action. It is only the +ugly (and bad) who fondly cherish the delusion that beauty doesn't +matter, that it is only skin-deep and the rest of it. + +Here now arises a curious question, the subject of this little paper. +When a good old family, of good character, falls on evil days and is +eventually submerged in the classes beneath, we know that the aspects +which please, the good features and expression, will often persist for +long generations. Now this submerging process is perpetually going on +all over the land and so it has been for centuries. We notice from year +to year the rise from the ranks of numberless men to the highest +positions, who are our leaders and legislators, owners of great estates +who found great families and receive titles. But we do not notice the +corresponding decline and final disappearance of those who were highly +placed, since this is a more gradual process and has nothing +sensational about it. Yet the two processes are equally great and far- +reaching in their effects, and are like those two of Elaboration and +Degeneration which go on side by side for ever in nature, in the animal +world; and like darkness and light and heat and cold in the physical +world. + +As a fact, the country is full of the descendants of families that have +"died out." How long it takes to blot out or blur the finer features +and expression we do not know, and the time probably varies according +to the length of the period during which the family existed in its +higher phase. The question which confronts us is: Does the higher or +better nature, the "inward perfections" which are correlated with the +aspects which please, endure too, or do those who fall from their own +class degenerate morally to the level of the people they live and are +one with? + +It is a nice question. In Sussex, with Mr. M. A. Lower, who has written +about the vanished or submerged families of that county, for my guide +as to names, I have sought out persons of a very humble condition, some +who were shepherds and agricultural labourers, and have been surprised +at the good faces of many of them, the fine, even noble, features and +expression, and with these an exceptionally fine character. Labourers +on the lands that were once owned by their forefathers, and children of +long generations of labourers, yet still exhibiting the marks of their +aristocratic descent, the fine features and expression and the fine +moral qualities with which they are correlated. + +I will now give in illustration an old South American experience, an +example, which deeply impressed me at the time, of the sharp contrast +between a remote descendant of aristocrats and a child of the people in +a country where class distinctions have long ceased to exist. + +It happened that I went to stay at a cattle ranch for two or three +months one summer, in a part of the country new to me, where I knew +scarcely anyone. It was a good spot for my purpose, which was bird +study, and this wholly occupied my mind. By-and-by I heard about two +brothers, aged respectively twenty-three and twenty-four years, who +lived in the neighbourhood on a cattle ranch inherited from their +father, who had died young. They had no relations and were the last of +their name in that part of the country, and their grazing land was but +a remnant of the estate as it had been a century before. The name of +the brothers first attracted my attention, for it was that of an old +highly-distinguished family of Spain, two or three of whose adventurous +sons had gone to South America early in the seventeenth century to seek +their fortunes, and had settled there. The real name need not be +stated: I will call it de la Rosa, which will serve as well as another. +Knowing something of the ancient history of the family I became curious +to meet the brothers, just to see what sort of men they were who had +blue blood and yet lived, as their forbears had done for generations, +in the rough primitive manner of the gauchos--the cattle-tending +horsemen of the pampas. A little later I met the younger brother at a +house in the village a few miles from the ranch I was staying at. His +name was Cyril; the elder was Ambrose. He was certainly a very fine +fellow in appearance, tall and strongly built, with a high colour on +his open genial countenance and a smile always playing about the +corners of his rather large sensual mouth and in his greenish-hazel +eyes; but of the noble ancestry there was no faintest trace. His +features were those of the unameliorated peasant, as he may be seen in +any European country, and in this country, in Ireland particularly, but +with us he is not so common. It would seem that in England there is a +larger mixture of better blood, or that the improvements in features +due to improved conditions, physical and moral, have gone further. At +all events, one may look at a crowd anywhere in England and see only a +face here and there of the unmodified plebeian type. In a very large +majority the forehead will be less low and narrow, the nose less coarse +with less wide-spreading alae, the depression in the bridge not so +deep, the mouth not so large nor the jowl so heavy. These marks of the +unimproved adult are present in all infants at birth. Lady Clara Vere +de Vere's little bantling is in a sense not hers at all but the child +of some ugly antique race; of a Palaeolithic mother, let us say, who +lived before the last Glacial epoch and was not very much better- +looking herself than an orang-utan. It is only when the bony and +cartilaginous framework, with the muscular covering of the face, +becomes modified, and the wrinkled brown visage of the ancient pigmy +grows white and smooth, that it can be recognised as Lady Clara's own +offspring. The infant is ugly, and where the infantile features survive +in the adult the man is and must be ugly too, _unless the expression +is good_. Thus, we may know numbers of persons who would certainly +be ugly but for the redeeming expression; and this good expression, +which is "feature in the making," is, like good features, an "outward +sign of inward perfections." + +To continue with the description of my young gentleman of blue blood +and plebeian countenance, his expression not only saved him from +ugliness but made him singularly attractive, it revealed a good nature, +friendliness, love of his fellows, sincerity, and other pleasing +qualities. After meeting and conversing with him I was not surprised to +hear that he was universally liked, but regarding him critically I +could not say that his manner was perfect. He was too self-conscious, +too anxious to shine, too vain of his personal appearance, of his wit, +his rich dress, his position as a de la Rosa and a landowner. There was +even a vulgarity in him, such as one looks for in a person risen from +the lower orders but does not expect in the descendant of an ancient +and once lustrous family, however much decayed and impoverished, or +submerged. + +Shortly afterwards a gossipy old native estanciero, who lived close by, +while sitting in our kitchen sipping mate, began talking freely about +his neighbour's lives and characters, and I told him I had felt +interested in the brothers de la Rosa; partly on account of the great +affection these two had for one another, which was like an ideal +friendship; and in part too on account of the ancient history of the +family they came from. I had met one of them, I told him,--Cyril--a +very fine fellow, but in some respects he was not exactly like my +preconceived idea of a de la Rosa. + +"No, and he isn't one!" shouted the old fellow, with a great laugh; and +more than delighted at having a subject presented to him and at his +capture of a fresh listener, he proceeded to give me an intimate +history of the brothers. + +The father, who was a fine and a lovable man, married early, and his +young wife died in giving birth to their only child--Ambrose. He did +not marry again: he was exceedingly fond of his child and was both +father and mother to it and kept it with him until the boy was about +nine years old, and then determined to send him to Buenos Ayres to give +him a year's schooling. He himself had been taught to read as a small +boy, also to write a letter, but he did not think himself equal to +teach the boy, and so for a time they would have to be separated. + +Meanwhile the boy had picked up with Cyril, a little waif in rags, the +bastard child of a woman who had gone away and left him in infancy to +the mercy of others. He had been reared in the hovel of a poor gaucho +on the de la Rosa land, but the poor orphan, although the dirtiest, +raggedest, most mischievous little beggar in the land, was an +attractive child, intelligent, full of fun, and of an adventurous +spirit. Half his days were spent miles from home, wading through the +vast reedy and rushy marshes in the neighbourhood, hunting for birds' +nests. Little Ambrose, with no child companion at home, where his life +had been made too soft for him, was exceedingly happy with his wild +companion, and they were often absent together in the marshes for a +whole day, to the great anxiety of the father. But he could not +separate them, because he could not endure to see the misery of his boy +when they were forcibly kept apart. Nor could he forbid his child from +heaping gifts in food and clothes and toys or whatever he had, on his +little playmate. Nor did the trouble cease when the time came now for +the boy to be sent from home to learn his letters: his grief at the +prospect of being separated from his companion was too much for the +father, and he eventually sent them together to the city, where they +spent a year or two and came back as devoted to one another as when +they went away. From that time Cyril lived with them, and eventually de +la Rosa adopted him, and to make his son happy he left all he possessed +to be equally divided at his death between them. He was in bad health, +and died when Ambrose was fifteen and Cyril fourteen; from that time +they were their own masters and refused to have any division of their +inheritance but continued to live together; and had so continued for +upwards of ten years. + +Shortly after hearing this history I met the brothers together at a +house in the village, and a greater contrast between two men it would +be impossible to imagine. They were alike only in both being big, well- +shaped, handsome, and well-dressed men, but in their faces they had the +stamp of widely separated classes, and differed as much as if they had +belonged to distinct species. Cyril, with a coarse, high-coloured skin +and the primitive features I have described; Ambrose, with a pale dark +skin of a silky texture, an oval face and classic features--forehead, +nose, mouth and chin, and his ears small and lying against his head, +not sticking out like handles as in his brother; he had black hair and +grey eyes. It was the face of an aristocrat, of a man of blue blood, or +of good blood, of an ancient family; and in his manner too he was a +perfect contrast to his brother and friend. There was no trace of +vulgarity in him; he was not self-conscious, not anxious to shine; he +was modesty itself, and in his speech and manner and appearance he was, +to put it all in one word, a gentleman. + +Seeing them together I was more amazed than ever at the fact of their +extraordinary affection for each other, their perfect amity which had +lasted so many years without a rift, which nothing could break, as +people said, except a woman. + +But the woman who would break or shatter it had not yet appeared on the +horizon, nor do I know whether she ever appeared or not, since after +leaving the neighbourhood I heard no more of the brothers de la Rosa. + + + + +V + +A STORY OF LONG DESCENT + + +It was rudely borne in upon me that there was another side to the +shield. I was too much immersed in my own thoughts to note the peculiar +character of the small remote old-world town I came to in the +afternoon; next day was Sunday, and on my way to the church to attend +morning service, it struck me as one of the oldest-looking of the small +old towns I had stumbled upon in my rambles in this ancient land. There +was the wide vacant space where doubtless meetings had taken place for +a thousand years, and the steep narrow crooked medieval streets, and +here and there some stately building rising like a castle above the +humble cottage houses clustering round it as if for protection. Best of +all was the church with its noble tower where a peal of big bells were +just now flooding the whole place with their glorious noise. + +It was even better when, inside, I rose from my knees and looked about +me, to find myself in an ideal interior, the kind I love best; rich in +metal and glass and old carved wood, the ornaments which the good +Methody would scornfully put in the hay and stubble category, but which +owing to long use and associations have acquired for others a symbolic +and spiritual significance. The beauty and richness were all the +fresher for the dimness, and the light was dim because it filtered +through old oxydised stained glass of that unparalleled loveliness of +colour which time alone can impart. It was, excepting in vastness, like +a cathedral interior, and in some ways better than even the best of +these great fanes, wonderful as they are. Here, recalling them, one +could venture to criticise and name their several deficits:--a Wells +divided, a ponderous Ely, a vacant and cold Canterbury, a too light and +airy Salisbury, and so on even to Exeter, supreme in beauty, spoilt by +a monstrous organ in the wrong place. That wood and metal giant, +standing as a stone bridge to mock the eyes' efforts to dodge past it +and have sight of the exquisite choir beyond, and of an east window +through which the humble worshipper in the nave might hope, in some +rare mystical moment, to catch a glimpse of the far Heavenly country +beyond. + +I also noticed when looking round that it was an interior rich in +memorials to the long dead--old brasses and stone tablets on the walls, +and some large monuments. By chance the most imposing of the tombs was +so near my seat that with little difficulty I succeeded in reading and +committing to memory the whole contents of the very long inscription +cut in deep letters on the hard white stone. It was to the memory of +Sir Ranulph Damarell, who died in 1531, and was the head of a family +long settled in those parts, lord of the manor and many other things. +On more than one occasion he raised a troop from his own people and +commanded it himself, fighting for his king and country both in and out +of England. He was, moreover, a friend of the king and his counsellor, +and universally esteemed for his virtues and valour; greatly loved by +all his people, especially by the poor and suffering, on account of his +generosity and kindness of heart. + +A very glorious record, and by-and-by I believed every word of it. +For after reading the inscription I began to examine the effigy in +marble of the man himself which surmounted the tomb. He was lying +extended full length, six feet and five inches, his head on a low +pillow, his right hand grasping the handle of his drawn sword. The more +I looked at it, both during and after the service, the more convinced I +became that this was no mere conventional figure made by some lapidary +long after the subject's death, but was the work of an inspired artist, +an exact portrait of the man, even to his stature, and that he had +succeeded in giving to the countenance the very expression of the +living Sir Ranulph. And what it expressed was power and authority and, +with it, spirituality. A noble countenance with a fine forehead and +nose, the lower part of the face covered with the beard, and long hair +that fell to the shoulders. + +It produced a feeling such as I have whenever I stand before a certain +sixteenth-century portrait in the National Gallery: a sense or an +illusion of being in the presence of a living person with whom I am +engaged in a wordless conversation, and who is revealing his inmost +soul to me. And it is only the work of a genius that can affect you in +that way. + +Quitting the church I remembered with satisfaction that my hostess at +the quiet home-like family hotel where I had put up, was an educated +intelligent woman (good-looking, too), and that she would no doubt be +able to tell me something of the old history of the town and +particularly of Sir Ranulph. For this marble man, this knight of +ancient days, had taken possession of me and I could think of nothing +else. + +At luncheon we met as in a private house at our table with our nice +hostess at the head, and beside her three or four guests staying in the +house; a few day visitors to the town came in and joined us. Next to me +I had a young New Zealand officer whose story I had heard with painful +interest the previous evening. Like so many of the New Zealanders I had +met before, he was a splendid young fellow; but he had been terribly +gassed at the front and had been told by the doctors that he would not +be fit to go back even if the war lasted another year, and we were then +well through the third. The way the poison in his lungs affected him +was curious. He had his bad periods when for a fortnight or so he would +lie in his hospital suffering much and terribly depressed, and at such +time black spots would appear all over his chest and neck and arms so +that he would be spotted like a pard. Then the spots would fade and he +would rise apparently well, and being of an energetic disposition, was +allowed to do local war work. + +On the other side of the table facing us sat a lady and gentleman who +had come in together for luncheon. A slim lady of about thirty, with a +well-shaped but colourless face and very bright intelligent eyes. She +was a lively talker, but her companion, a short fat man with a round +apple face and cheeks of an intensely red colour and a black moustache, +was reticent, and when addressed directly replied in monosyllables. He +gave his undivided attention to the thing on his plate. + +The young officer talked to me of his country, describing with +enthusiasm his own district which he averred contained the finest +mountain and forest scenery in New Zealand. The lady sitting opposite +began to listen and soon cut in to say she knew it all well, and agreed +in all he said in praise of the scenery. She had spent weeks of delight +among those great forests and mountains. Was she then his country- +woman? he asked. Oh, no, she was English but had travelled extensively +and knew a great deal of New Zealand. And after exhausting this subject +the conversation, which had become general, drifted into others, and +presently we were all comparing notes about our experience of the late +great frost. Here I had my say about what had happened in the village I +had been staying in. The prolonged frost, I said, had killed all or +most of the birds in the open country round us, but in the village +itself a curious thing had happened to save the birds of the place. It +was a change of feeling in the people, who are by nature or training +great persecutors of birds. The sight of them dying of starvation had +aroused a sentiment of compassion, and all the villagers, men, women, +and children, even to the roughest bush-beating boys, started feeding +them, with the result that the birds quickly became tame and spent +their whole day flying from house to house, visiting every yard and +perching on the window-sills. While I was speaking the gentleman +opposite put down his knife and fork and gazed steadily at me with a +smile on his red-apple face, and when I concluded he exploded in a +half-suppressed sniggering laugh. + +It annoyed me, and I remarked rather sharply that I didn't see what +there was to laugh at in what I had told them. Then the lady with ready +tact interposed to say she had been deeply interested in my +experiences, and went on to tell what she had done to save the birds in +her own place; and her companion, taking it perhaps as a snub to +himself from her, picked up his knife and fork and went on with his +luncheon, and never opened his mouth to speak again. Or, at all events, +not till he had quite finished his meal. + +By-and-by, when I found an opportunity of speaking to our hostess, I +asked her who that charming lady was, and she told me she was a Miss +Somebody--I forget the name--a native of the town, also that she was a +great favourite there and was loved by everyone, rich and poor, and +that she had been a very hard worker ever since the war began, and had +inspired all the women in the place to work. + +"And who," I asked, "was the fellow who brought her in to lunch--a +relative or a lover?" + +"Oh, no, no relation and certainly not a lover. I doubt if she would +have him if he wanted her, in spite of his position." + +"I don't wonder at that--a perfect clown! And who is he?" + +"Oh, didn't you know! Sir Ranulph Damarell." + +"Good Lord!" I gasped. "That your great man--lord of the manor and what +not! He may bear the name, but I'm certain he's not a descendant of the +Sir Ranulph whose monument is in your church." + +"Oh, yes, he is," she replied. "I believe there has never been a break +in the line from father to son since that man's day. They were all +knights in the old time, but for the last two centuries or so have been +baronets." + +"Good Lord!" I exclaimed again. "And please tell me what is he----what +does he do? What is his distinction?" + +"His distinction for me," she smilingly replied, "is that he prefers +my house to have his luncheon in after Sunday morning service. He knows +where he can get good cooking. And as a rule he invites some friend in +the town to lunch with him, so that should there be any conversation at +table his guest can speak for both and leave him quite free to enjoy +his food." + +"And what part does he take in politics and public affairs--how does he +stand among your leading men?" + +Her answer was that he had never taken any part in politics--had never +been or desired to be in Parliament or in the County Council, and was +not even a J.P., nor had he done anything for his country during the +war. Nor was he a sportsman. He was simply a country gentleman, and +every morning he took a ride or walk, mainly she supposed to give him a +better appetite for his luncheon. And he was a good landlord to his +tenants and he was respected by everybody and no one had ever said a +word against him. + +There was nothing now for me to say except 'Good Lord!' so I said it +once more, and that made three times. + + + + +VI + +A SECOND STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +Shortly after writing the story of two brothers in the last part but +one I was reminded of another strange story of two brothers in that +same distant land, which I heard years ago and had forgotten. It now +came back to me in a newspaper from Miami, of all places in the world, +sent me by a correspondent in that town. He--Mr. J. L. Rodger--some +time ago when reading an autobiographical book of mine made the +discovery that we were natives of the same place in the Argentine +pampas--that the homes where we respectively first saw the light stood +but a couple of hours' ride on horseback apart. But we were not born on +the same day and so missed meeting in our youth; then left our homes, +and he, after wide wanderings, found an earthly paradise in Florida to +dwell in. So that now that we have in a sense met we have the Atlantic +between us. He has been contributing some recollections of the pampas +to the Miami paper, and told this story of two brothers among other +strange happenings. I tell it in my own way more briefly. + + * * * * * + +It begins in the early fifties and ends thirty years later in the early +eighties of last century. It then found its way into the Buenos Ayres +newspapers, and I heard it at the time but had utterly forgotten it +until this Florida paper came into my hand. + +In the fifties a Mr. Gilmour, a Scotch settler, had a sheep and cattle +ranch on the pampas far south of Buenos Ayres, near the Atlantic coast. +He lived there with his family, and one of the children, aged five, was +a bright active little fellow and was regarded with affection by one of +the hired native cattlemen, who taught the child to ride on a pony, and +taught him so well that even at that tender age the boy could follow +his teacher and guide at a fast gallop over the plain. One day Mr. +Gilmour fell out with the man on account of some dereliction of duty, +and after some hot words between them discharged him there and then. +The young fellow mounted his horse and rode off vowing vengeance, and +on that very day the child disappeared. The pony on which he had gone +out riding came home, and as it was supposed that the little boy had +been thrown or fallen off, a search was made all over the estate and +continued for days without result. Eventually some of the child's +clothing was found on the beach, and it was conjectured that the young +native had taken the child there and drowned him and left the clothes +to let the Gilmours know that he had had his revenge. But there was +room for doubt, as the body was never found, and they finally came to +think that the clothes had been left there to deceive them, and that as +the man had been so fond of the child he had carried him off. This +belief started them on a wider and longer quest; they invoked the aid +of the authorities all over the province; the loss of the child was +advertised and a large reward offered for his recovery and agents were +employed to look for him. In this search, which continued for years, +Mr. Gilmour spent a large part of his fortune, and eventually it had to +be dropped; and of all the family Mrs. Gilmour alone still believed +that her lost son was living, and still dreamed and hoped that she +would see him again before her life ended. + +One day the Gilmours entertained a traveller, a native gentleman, who, +as the custom was in my time on those great vacant plains where houses +were far apart, had ridden up to the gate at noon and asked for +hospitality. He was a man of education, a great traveller in the land, +and at table entertained them with an account of some of the strange +out-of-the-world places he had visited. + +Presently one of the sons of the house, a tall slim good-looking young +man of about thirty, came in, and saluting the stranger took his seat +at the table. Their guest started and seemed to be astonished at the +sight of him, and after the conversation was resumed he continued from +time to time to look with a puzzled questioning air at the young man. +Mrs. Gilmour had observed this in him and, with the thought of her lost +son ever in her mind, she became more and more agitated until, unable +longer to contain her excitement, she burst out: "O, Senor, why do you +look at my son in that way?--tell me if by chance you have not met +someone in your wanderings that was like him." + +Yes, he replied, he had met someone so like the young man before him +that it had almost produced the illusion of his being the same person; +that was why he had looked so searchingly at him. + +Then in reply to their eager questions he told them that it was an old +incident, that he had never spoken a word to the young man he had seen, +and that he had only seen him once for a few minutes. The reason of his +remembering him so well was that he had been struck by his appearance, +so strangely incongruous in the circumstances, and that had made him +look very sharply at him. Over two years had passed since, but it was +still distinct in his memory. He had come to a small frontier +settlement, a military outpost, on the extreme north-eastern border of +the Republic, and had seen the garrison turn out for exercise from the +fort. It was composed of the class of men one usually saw in these +border forts, men of the lowest type, miztiros and mulattos most of +them, criminals from the gaols condemned to serve in the frontier army +for their crimes. And in the midst of the low-browed, swarthy-faced, +ruffianly crew appeared the tall distinguished-looking young man with a +white skin, blue eyes and light hair--an amazing contrast! + +That was all he could tell them, but it was a clue, the first they had +had in thirty years, and when they told the story of the lost child to +their guest he was convinced that it was their son he had seen--there +could be no other explanation of the extraordinary resemblance between +the two young men. At the same time he warned them that the search +would be a difficult and probably a disappointing one, as these +frontier garrisons were frequently changed: also that many of the men +deserted whenever they got the chance, and that many of them got +killed, either in fight with the Indians, or among themselves over +their cards, as gambling was their only recreation. + +But the old hope, long dead in all of them except in the mother's +heart, was alive again, and the son, whose appearance had so strongly +attracted their guest's attention, at once made ready to go out on that +long journey. He went by way of Buenos Ayres where he was given a +passport by the War Office and a letter to the Commanding Officer to +discharge the blue-eyed soldier in the event of his being found and +proved to be a brother to the person in quest of him. But when he got +to the end of his journey on the confines of that vast country, after +travelling many weeks on horseback, it was only to hear that the men +who had formed the garrison two years before, had been long ordered +away to another province where they had probably been called to aid in +or suppress a revolutionary outbreak, and no certain news could be had +of them. He had to return alone but not to drop the search; it was but +the first of three great attempts he made, and the second was the most +disastrous, when in a remote Province and a lonely district he met with +a serious accident which kept him confined in some poor hovel for many +months, his money all spent, and with no means of communicating with +his people. He got back at last; and after recruiting his health and +providing himself with funds, and obtaining fresh help from the War +Office, he set out on his third venture; and at the end of three years +from the date of his first start, he succeeded in finding the object of +his search, still serving as a common soldier in the army. That they +were brothers there was no doubt in either of their minds, and together +they travelled home. + +And now the old father and mother had got their son back, and they told +him the story of the thirty years during which they had lamented his +loss, and of how at last they had succeeded in recovering him:--what +had he to tell them in return? It was a disappointing story. For, to +begin with, he had no recollection of his child life at home--no +faintest memory of mother or father or of the day when the sudden +violent change came and he was forcibly taken away. His earliest +recollection was of being taken about by someone--a man who owned him, +who was always at the cattle-estates where he worked, and how this man +treated him kindly until he was big enough to be set to work +shepherding sheep and driving cattle, and doing anything a boy could do +at any place they lived in, and that his owner and master then began to +be exacting and tyrannical, and treated him so badly that he eventually +ran away and never saw the man again. And from that time onward he +lived much the same kind of life as when with his master, constantly +going about from place to place, from province to province, and finally +he had for some unexplained reason been taken into the army. + +That was all--the story of his thirty years of wild horseback life told +in a few dry sentences! Could more have been expected! The mother had +expected more and would not cease to expect it. He was her lost one +found again, the child of her body who in his long absence had gotten a +second nature; but it was nothing but a colour, a garment, which would +wear thinner and thinner, and by-and-by reveal the old deeper +ineradicable nature beneath. So she imagined, and would take him out to +walk to be with him, to have him all to herself, to caress him, and +they would walk, she with an arm round his neck or waist; and when she +released him or whenever he could make his escape from the house, he +would go off to the quarters of the hired cattlemen and converse with +them. They were his people, and he was one of them in soul in spite of +his blue eyes, and like one of them he could lasso or break a horse and +throw a bull and put a brand on him, and kill a cow and skin it, or +roast it in its hide if it was wanted so; and he could do a hundred +other things, though he couldn't read a book, and I daresay he found it +a very misery to sit on a chair in the company of those who read in +books and spoke a language that was strange to him--the tongue he had +himself spoken as a child! + + + + +VII + +A THIRD STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +Stories of two brothers are common enough the world over--probably more +so than stories of young men who have fallen in love with their +grandmothers, and the main feature in most of them, as in the story I +have just told, is in the close resemblance of the two brothers, for on +that everything hinges. It is precisely the same in the one I am about + to relate, one I came upon a few years ago--just how many I wish not to +say, nor just where it happened except that it was in the west country; +and for the real names of people and places I have substituted +fictitious ones. For this too, like the last, is a true story. The +reader on finishing it will perhaps blush to think it true, but apart +from the moral aspect of the case it is, psychologically, a singularly +interesting one. + +One summer day I travelled by a public conveyance to Pollhampton, a +small rustic market town several miles distant from the nearest +railroad. My destination was not the town itself, but a lonely heath- +grown hill five miles further on, where I wished to find something that +grew and blossomed on it, and my first object on arrival was to secure +a riding horse or horse and trap to carry me there. I was told at once +that it was useless to look for such a thing, as it was market day and +everybody was fully occupied. That it was market day I already knew +very well, as the two or three main streets and wide market-place in +the middle of the town were full of sheep and cows and pigs and people +running about and much noise of shoutings and barking dogs. However, +the strange object of the strange-looking stranger in coming to the +town, interested some of the wild native boys, and they rushed about to +tell it, and in less than five minutes a nice neat-looking middle-aged +man stood at my elbow and said he had a good horse and trap and for +seven-and-sixpence would drive me to the hill, help me there to find +what I wanted, and bring me back in time to catch the conveyance. +Accordingly in a few minutes we were speeding out of the town drawn by +a fast-trotting horse. Fast trotters appeared to be common in these +parts, and as we went along the road from time to time a small cloud of +dust would become visible far ahead of us, and in two or three minutes +a farmer's trap would appear and rush past on its way to market, to +vanish behind us in two or three minutes more and be succeeded by +another and then others. By-and-by one came past driven by two young +women, one holding the reins, the other playing with the whip. They +were tall, dark, with black hair, and colourless faces, aged about +thirty, I imagined. As they flew by I remarked, "I would lay a +sovereign to a shilling that they are twins." "You'd lose your money-- +there's two or three years between them," said my driver. "Do you know +them--you didn't nod to them nor they to you?" I said. "I know them," +he returned, "as well as I know my own face when I look at myself in a +glass." On which I remarked that it was very wonderful. "'Tis only a +part of the wonder, and not the biggest part," he said. "You've seen +what they are like and how like they are, but if you passed a day with +them in the house you'd be able to tell one from the other; but if you +lived a year in the same house with their two brothers you'd never be +able to tell one from the other and be sure you were right. The +strangest thing is that the brothers who, like their sisters, have two +or three years between them, are not a bit like their sisters; they are +blue-eyed and seem a different race." + +That, I said, made it more wonderful still. A curiously symmetrical +family. Rather awkward for their neighbours, and people who had +business relations with them. + +"Yes--perhaps," he said, "but it served them very well on one occasion +to be so much alike." + +I began to smell a dramatic rat and begged him to tell me all about it. + +He said he didn't mind telling me. Their name was Prage--Antony and +Martin Prage, of Red Pit Farm, which they inherited from their father +and worked together. They were very united. One day one of them, when +riding six miles from home, met a girl coming along the road, and +stopped his horse to talk to her. She was a poor girl that worked at a +dairy farm near by, and lived with her mother, a poor old widow-woman, +in a cottage in the village. She was pretty, and the young man took a +liking to her and he persuaded her to come again to meet him on another +day at that spot; and there were many more meetings, and they were fond +of each other; but after she told him that something had happened to +her he never came again. When she made enquiries she found he had given +her a false name and address, and so she lost sight of him. Then her +child was born, and she lived with her mother. And you must know what +her life was--she and her old mother and her baby and nothing to keep +them. And though she was a shy ignorant girl she made up her mind to +look for him until she found him to make him pay for the child. She +said he had come on his horse so often to see her that he could not be +too far away, and every morning she would go off in search of him, and +she spent weeks and months tramping about the country, visiting all the +villages for many miles round looking for him. And one day in a small +village six miles from her home she caught sight of him galloping by on +his horse, and seeing a woman standing outside a cottage she ran to her +and asked who that young man was who had just ridden by. The woman told +her she thought it was Mr. Antony Prage of Red Pit Farm, about two +miles from the village. Then the girl came home and was advised what to +do. She had to do it all herself as there was no money to buy a lawyer, +so she had him brought to court and told her own story, and the judge +was very gentle with her and drew out all the particulars. But Mr. +Prage had got a lawyer, and when the girl had finished her story he got +up and put just one question to her. First he called on Antony Prage to +stand up in court, then he said to her, "Do you swear that the man +standing before you is the father of your child?" + +And just when he put that question Antony's brother Martin, who had +been sitting at the back of the court, got up, and coming forward stood +at his brother's side. The girl stared at the two, standing together, +too astonished to speak for some time. She looked from one to the other +and at last said, "I swear it is one of them." That, the lawyer said, +wasn't good enough. If she could not swear that Antony Prage, the man +she had brought into court, was the guilty person, then the case fell +to the ground. + +My informant finished his story and I asked "Was that then the end--was +nothing more done about it?" "No, nothing." "Did not the judge say it +was a mean dirty trick arranged between the brothers and the lawyer?" +"No, he didn't--he non-suited her and that was all." "And did not +Antony Prage, or both of them, go into the witness box and swear that +they were innocent of the charge?" "No, they never opened their mouths +in court. When the judge told the young woman that she had failed to +establish her case, they walked out smiling, and their friends came +round them and they went off together." "And these brothers, I suppose, +still live among you at their farm and are regarded as good respectable +young men, and go to chapel on Sundays, and by-and-by will probably +marry nice respectable Methodist girls, and the girls' friends will +congratulate them on making such good matches." + +"Oh, no doubt; one has been married some time and his wife has got a +baby; the other one will be married before long." + +"And what do you think about it all?" + +"I've told you what happened because the facts came out in court and +are known to everyone. What I think about it is what I think, and I've +no call to tell that." + +"Oh, very well!" I said, vexed at his noncommittal attitude. Then I +looked at him, but his face revealed nothing; he was just the man with +a quiet manner and low voice who had put himself at my service and +engaged to drive me five miles out to a hill, help me to find what I +wanted and bring me back in time to catch the conveyance to my town, +all for the surprisingly moderate sum of seven-and-sixpence. But he had +told me the story of the two brothers; and besides, in spite of our +faces being masks, if one make them so, mind converses with mind in +some way the psychologists have not yet found out, and I knew that in +his heart of hearts he regarded those two respectable members of the +Pollhampton community much as I did. + + + + +VIII + +THE TWO WHITE HOUSES: A MEMORY + + +There's no connection--not the slightest--between this two and the +other twos; it was nevertheless the telling of the stories of the +brothers which brought back to me this ancient memory of two houses. +Nor were the two houses connected in any way, except that they were +both white, situated on the same road, on the same side of it; also +both stood a little way back from the road in grounds beautifully +shaded with old trees. It was the great southern road which leads from +the city of Buenos Ayres, the Argentine capital, to the vast level +cattle-country of the pampas, where I was born and bred. Naturally it +was a tremendously exciting adventure to a child's mind to come from +these immense open plains, where one lived in rude surroundings with +the semi-barbarous gauchos for only neighbours, to a great civilised +town full of people and of things strange and beautiful to see. And to +touch and taste. + +Thus it happened that when I, a child, with my brothers and sisters, +were taken to visit the town we would become more and more excited as +we approached it at the end of a long journey, which usually took us +two days, at all we saw--ox-carts and carriages and men on horseback on +the wide hot dusty road, and the houses and groves and gardens on +either side.... It was thus that we became acquainted with the two +white houses, and were attracted to them because in their whiteness and +green shade they looked beautiful to us and cool and restful, and we +wished we could live in them. + +They were well outside of the town, the nearest being about two miles +from its old south wall and fortifications, the other one a little over +two miles further out. The last being the farthest out was the first +one we came to on our journeys to the city; it was a somewhat singular- +looking building with a verandah supported by pillars painted green, +and it had a high turret. And near it was a large dovecot with a cloud +of pigeons usually flying about it, and we came to calling it Dovecot +House. The second house was plainer in form but was not without a +peculiar distinction in its large wrought-iron front gate with white +pillars on each side, and in front of each pillar a large cannon +planted postwise in the earth. + +This we called Cannon House, but who lived in these two houses none +could tell us. + +When I was old enough to ride as well as any grown-up, and my +occasional visits to town were made on horseback, I once had three +young men for my companions, the oldest about twenty-eight, the two not +more than nineteen and twenty-one respectively. I was eagerly looking +out for the first white house, and when we were coming to it I cried +out, "Now we are coming to Dovecot House, let's go slow and look at +it." + +Without a word they all pulled up, and for some minutes we sat silently +gazing at the house. Then the eldest of the three said that if he was a +rich man he would buy the house and pass the rest of his life very +happily in it and in the shade of its old trees. + +In what, the others asked, would his happiness consist, since a +rational being must have something besides a mere shelter from the +storm and a tree to shade him from the sun to be happy? + +He answered that after securing the house he would range the whole +country in search of the most beautiful woman in it, and that when he +had found and made her his wife he would spend his days and years in +adoring her for her beauty and charm. + +His two young companions laughed scornfully. Then one of them--the +younger--said that he too if wealthy would buy the house, as he had not +seen another so well suited for the life he would like to live. A life +spent with books! He would send to Europe for all the books he desired +to read and would fill the house with them; and he would spend his days +in the house or in the shade of the trees, reading every day from +morning to night undisturbed by traffic and politics and revolutions in +the land, and by happenings all the world over. + +He too was well laughed at; then the last of the three said he didn't +care for either of their ideals. He liked wine best, and if he had +great wealth he would buy the house and send to Europe--O not for books +nor for a beautiful wife! but for wine--wines of all the choicest kinds +in bottle and casks--and fill the cellars with it. And his choice wines +would bring choice spirits to help him drink them; and then in the +shade of the old trees they would have their table and sit over their +wine--the merriest, wittiest, wisest, most eloquent gathering in all +the land. + +The others in their turn laughed at him, despising his ideal, and then +we set off once more. + +They had not thought to put the question to me, because I was only a +boy while they were grown men; but I had listened with such intense +interest to that colloquy that when I recall the scene now I can see +the very expressions of their sun-burnt faces and listen to the very +sound of their speech and laughter. For they were all intimately known +to me and I knew they were telling openly just what their several +notions of a happy life were, caring nothing for the laughter of the +others. I was mightily pleased that they, too, had felt the attractions +of my Dovecot House as a place where a man, whatsoever his individual +taste, might find a happy abiding-place. + +Time rolled on, as the slow-going old storybooks written before we were +born used to say, and I still preserved the old habit of pulling up my +horse on coming abreast of each one of the two houses on every journey +to and from town. Then one afternoon when walking my horse past the +Cannon House I saw an old man dressed in black with snow-white hair and +side-whiskers in the old, old style, and an ashen grey face, standing +motionless by the side of one of the guns and gazing out at the +distance. His eyes were blue--the dim weary blue of a tired old man's +eyes, and he appeared not to see me as I walked slowly by him within a +few yards, but to be gazing at something beyond, very far away. I took +him to be a resident, perhaps the owner of the house, and this was the +first time I had seen any person there. So strongly did the sight of +that old man impress me that I could not get his image out of my mind, +and I spoke to those I knew in the city, and before long I met with one +who was able to satisfy my curiosity about him. The old man I had seen, +he told me, was Admiral Brown, an Englishman who many years before had +taken service with the Dictator Rosas at the time when Rosas was at war +with the neighbouring Republic of Uruguay, and had laid siege to the +city of Montevideo. Garibaldi, who was spending the years of his exile +from Italy in South America, fighting as usual wherever there was any +fighting to be had, flew to the help of Uruguay, and having acquired +great fame as a sea-fighter was placed in command of the naval forces, +such as they were, of the little Republic. But Brown was a better +fighter, and he soon captured and destroyed his enemies' ships, +Garibaldi himself escaping shortly afterwards to come back to the old +world to renew the old fight against Austria. + +When old Admiral Brown retired he built this house, or had it given to +him by Rosas who, I was told, had a great affection for him, and he +then had the two cannons he had taken from one of the captured ships +planted at his front gate. + +Shortly after that one glimpse I had had of the old Admiral, he died. +And I think that when I saw him standing at his gate gazing past me at +the distance, he was looking out for an expected messenger--a figure in +black moving swiftly towards him with a drawn sword in his hand. + +Oddly enough it was but a short time after seeing the old man at his +gate that I had my first sight of an inmate of Dovecot House. While +slowly riding by it I saw a lady come out from the front door--young, +good-looking, very pale and dressed in the deepest mourning. She had a +bowl in her hand, and going a little distance from the house she called +the pigeons and down they flew in a crowd to her feet to be fed. + +A few months later when passing I saw this same lady once more, and on +this occasion she was coming to the gate as I rode by, and I saw her +closely, for she turned and looked at me, not unseeingly like the old +man, and her face was perfectly colourless and her large dark eyes the +most sorrowful I had ever seen. + +That was my last sight of her, nor did I see any human creature about +the house after that for about two years. Then one hot summer day I +caught sight of three persons who looked like servants or caretakers, +sitting in the shade some distance from the house and drinking mate, +the tea of the country. + +Here, thought I, is an opportunity not to be lost--one long waited for! +Leaving my horse at the gate I went to them, and addressing a large +woman, the most important-looking person of the three, as politely as I +could, I said I was not, as they perhaps imagined, a long absent friend +or relation returned from the wars, but a perfect stranger, a traveller +on the great south road; that I was hot and thirsty, and the sight of +them refreshing themselves in that pleasant shade had tempted me to +intrude myself upon them. + +She received me with smiles and a torrent of welcoming words, and the +expected invitation to sit down and drink mate with them. She was a +very large woman, very fat and very dark, of that reddish or mahogany +colour which, taken with the black eyes and coarse black hair, is +commonly seen in persons of mixed blood--Iberian with aboriginal. I +took her age to be about fifty years. And she was as voluble as she was +fat and dark, and poured out such a stream of talk on or rather over me +like warm greasy water, and so forcing me to keep my eyes on her, that +it was almost impossible to give any attention to the other two. One +was her husband, Spanish and dark too, but with a different sort of +darkness; a skeleton of a man with a bony ghastly face, in old frayed +workman's clothes and dust-covered boots; his hands very grimy. And the +third person was their daughter, as they called her, a girl of fifteen +with a clear white and pink skin, regular features, beautiful grey eyes +and light brown hair. A perfect type of a nice looking English girl +such as one finds in any village, in almost any cottage, in the +Midlands or anywhere else in this island. + +These two were silent, but at length, in one of the fat woman's brief +pauses, the girl spoke, in a Spanish in which one could detect no trace +of a foreign accent, in a low and pleasing voice, only to say something +about the garden. She was strangely earnest and appeared anxious to +impress on them that it was necessary to have certain beds of +vegetables they cultivated watered that very day lest they should be +lost owing to the heat and dryness. The man grunted and the woman said +yes, yes, yes, a dozen times. Then the girl left us, going back to her +garden, and the fat woman went on talking to me. I tried once or twice +to get her to tell me about her daughter, as she called her, but she +would not respond--she would at once go off into other subjects. Then I +tried something else and told her of my sight of a handsome young lady +in mourning I had once seen there feeding the pigeons. And now she +responded readily enough and told me the whole story of the lady. + +She belonged to a good and very wealthy family of the city and was an +only child, and lost both parents when very young. She was a very +pretty girl of a joyous nature and a great favourite in society. At the +age of sixteen she became engaged to a young man who was also of a good +and wealthy family. After becoming engaged to her he went to the war in +Paraguay, and after an absence of two years, during which he had +distinguished himself in the field and won his captaincy, he returned +to marry her. She was at her own house waiting in joyful excitement to +receive him when his carriage arrived, and she flew to the door to +welcome him. He, seeing her, jumped out and came running to her with +his arms out to embrace her, but when still three or four yards distant +suddenly stopped short and throwing up his arms fell to the earth a +dead man. The shock of his death at this moment of supreme bliss for +both of them was more than she could bear; it brought on a fever of the +brain and it was feared that if she ever recovered it would be with a +shattered mind. But it was not so: she got well and her reason was not +lost, but she was changed into a different being from the happy girl of +other days--fond of society, of dress, of pleasures; full of life and +laughter. "Now she is sadness itself and will continue to wear mourning +for the rest of her life, and prefers always to be alone. This old +house, built by her grandfather when there were few houses in this +suburb, she once liked to visit, but since her loss she has been but +once in it. That was when you saw her, when she came to spend a few +months in solitude. She would not even allow me to come and sit and +talk to her! Think of that! She thinks nothing of her possessions and +allows us to live here rent free, to grow vegetables and raise poultry +for the market. That is what we do for a living; my husband and our +little daughter attend to these things out of doors, and I look after +the house." + +When she got to the end of this long relation I rose and thanked her +for her hospitality and made my escape. But the mystery of the white, +gentle-voiced, grey-eyed girl haunted me, and from that time I made it +my custom to call at Dovecot House on every journey to town, always to +be received with open arms, so to speak, by the great fat woman. But +she always baffled me. The girl was usually to be seen, always the +same, quiet, unsmiling, silent, or else speaking in Spanish in that +gentle un-Spanish voice of some practical matter about the garden, the +poultry, and so on. I was not in love with her, but extremely curious +to know who she really was and how she came to be a "daughter," or in +the hands of these unlikely people. For it was really one of the +strangest things I had ever come across up to that early period of my +life. Since then I have met with even more curious things; but being +then of an age when strange things have a great fascination I was bent +on getting to the bottom of the mystery. However, it was in vain; +doubtless the fat woman suspected my motives in calling on her and +sipping mate and listening to her talk, for whenever I mentioned her +daughter in a tentative way, hoping it would lead to talk on that +subject, she quickly and skilfully changed it for some other subject. +And at last seeing that I was wasting my time, I dropped calling, but +to this day I am rather sorry I allowed myself to be defeated. + +And now once more I must return for the space of two or three pages to +the _brother_ white house before saying good-bye to both. + +For it had come to pass that while my investigations into the mystery +of Dovecot House were in progress I had by chance got my foot in Cannon +House. And this is how it happened. When the old Admiral whose ghostly +image haunted me had received his message and vanished from this scene, +the house was sold and was bought by an Englishman, an old resident in +the town, who for thirty years had been toiling and moiling in a +business of some kind until he had built a small fortune. It then +occurred to him, or more likely his wife and daughters suggested it, +that it was time to get a little way out of the hurly-burly, and they +accordingly came to live at the house. There were two daughters, tall, +slim, graceful girls, one, the elder, dark and pale like her old +Cornish father, with black hair; the other a blonde with a rose colour +and of a lively merry disposition. These girls happened to be friends +of my sisters, and so it fell out that I too became an occasional +visitor to Cannon House. + +Then a strange thing happened, which made it a sad and anxious home to +the inmates for many long months, running to nigh on two years. They +were fond of riding, and one afternoon when there was no visitor or any +person to accompany them, the youngest girl said she would have her +ride and ordered her horse to be brought from the paddock and saddled. +Her elder sister, who was of a somewhat timid disposition, tried to +dissuade her from riding out alone on the highway. She replied that she +would just have one little gallop--a mile or so--and then come back. +Her sister, still anxious, followed her out of the gate and said she +would wait there for her return. Half a mile or so from the gate the +horse, a high-spirited animal, took fright at something and bolted with +its rider. The sister waiting and looking out saw them coming, the +horse at a furious pace, the rider clinging for dear life to the pummel +of the saddle. It flashed on her mind that unless the horse could be +stopped before he came crashing through the gate her sister would be +killed, and running out to a distance of thirty yards from the gate she +jumped at the horse's head as it came rushing by and succeeded in +grasping the reins, and holding fast to them she was dragged to within +two or three yards of the gate, when the horse was brought to a +standstill, whereupon her grasp relaxed and she fell to the ground in a +dead faint. + +She had done a marvellous thing--almost incredible. I have had horses +bolt with me and have seen horses bolt with others many times; and +every person who has seen such a thing and who knows a horse--its power +and the blind mad terror it is seized with on occasions--will agree +with me that it is only at the risk of his life that even a strong and +agile man can attempt to stop a bolting horse. We all said that she had +saved her sister's life and were lost in admiration of her deed, but +presently it seemed that she would pay for it with her own life. She +recovered from the faint, but from that day began a decline, until in +about three months' time she appeared to me more like a ghost than a +being of flesh and blood. She had not strength to cross the rooms--all +her strength and life were dying out of her because of that one +unnatural, almost supernatural, act. She passed the days lying on a +couch, speaking, when obliged to speak, in a whisper, her eyes sunk, +her face white even to the lips, seeming the whiter for the mass of +loose raven-black hair in which it was set. There were few doctors, +English and native, who were not first and last called into +consultation over the case, and still no benefit, no return to life, +but ever the slow drifting towards the end. And at the last +consultation of all this happened. When it was over and the doctors +were asked into a room where refreshments were placed for them, the +father of the girl spoke aside to a young doctor, a stranger to him, +and begged him to tell him truly if there was no hope. The other +replied that he should not lose all hope if--then he paused, and when +he spoke again it was to say, "I am, you see, a very young man, a +beginner in the profession, with little experience, and hardly know why +I am called here to consult with these older and wiser men; and +naturally my small voice received but little attention." + +By-and-by, when they had all gone except the family doctor, he informed +the distracted parents that it was impossible to save their daughter's +life. The father cried out that he would not lose all hope and would +call in another man, whereupon old Dr. Wormwood seized his brass-headed +cane and took himself off in a huff. The young stranger was then called +in. The patient had been given arsenic with other drugs; he gave her +arsenic only, increasing the doses enormously, until she was given as +much in a day or two as would have killed a healthy person; with milk +for only nourishment. As a result, in a week or so the decline was +stayed, and in that condition, very near to dissolution, she continued +some weeks, and then slowly, imperceptibly, began to mend. But so slow +was the improvement that it went on for months before she was well. It +was a complete recovery; she had got back all her old strength and joy +in life, and went again for a ride every day with her sister. + +Not very long afterwards both sisters were married, and my visits to +Cannon House ceased automatically. + +Now the two White Houses are but a memory, revived for a brief period +to vanish quickly again into oblivion, a something seen long ago and +far away in another hemisphere; and they are like two white cliffs seen +in passing from the ship at the beginning of its voyage--gazed at with +a strange interest as I passed them, and as they receded from me, until +they faded from sight in the distance. + + + + +IX + +DANDY A STORY OF A DOG + + +He was of mixed breed, and was supposed to have a strain of Dandy +Dinmont blood which gave him his name. A big ungainly animal with a +rough shaggy coat of blue-grey hair and white on his neck and clumsy +paws. He looked like a Sussex sheep-dog with legs reduced to half their +proper length. He was, when I first knew him, getting old and +increasingly deaf and dim of sight, otherwise in the best of health and +spirits, or at all events very good-tempered. + +Until I knew Dandy I had always supposed that the story of Ludlam's dog +was pure invention, and I daresay that is the general opinion about it; +but Dandy made me reconsider the subject, and eventually I came to +believe that Ludlam's dog did exist once upon a time, centuries ago +perhaps, and that if he had been the laziest dog in the world Dandy was +not far behind him in that respect. It is true he did not lean his head +against a wall to bark; he exhibited his laziness in other ways. He +barked often, though never at strangers; he welcomed every visitor, +even the tax-collector, with tail-waggings and a smile. He spent a good +deal of his time in the large kitchen, where he had a sofa to sleep on, +and when the two cats of the house wanted an hour's rest they would +coil themselves up on Dandy's broad shaggy side, preferring that bed to +cushion or rug. They were like a warm blanket over him, and it was a +sort of mutual benefit society. After an hour's sleep Dandy would go +out for a short constitutional as far as the neighbouring thoroughfare, +where he would blunder against people, wag his tail to everybody, and +then come back. He had six or eight or more outings each day, and, +owing to doors and gates being closed and to his lazy disposition, he +had much trouble in getting out and in. First he would sit down in the +hall and bark, bark, bark, until some one would come to open the door +for him, whereupon he would slowly waddle down the garden path, and if +he found the gate closed he would again sit down and start barking. And +the bark, bark would go on until some one came to let him out. But if +after he had barked about twenty or thirty times no one came, he would +deliberately open the gate himself, which he could do perfectly well, +and let himself out. In twenty minutes or so he would be back at the +gate and barking for admission once more, and finally, if no one paid +any attention, letting himself in. + +Dandy always had something to eat at mealtimes, but he too liked a +snack between meals once or twice a day. The dog-biscuits were kept in +an open box on the lower dresser shelf, so that he could get one +"whenever he felt so disposed," but he didn't like the trouble this +arrangement gave him, so he would sit down and start barking, and as he +had a bark which was both deep and loud, after it had been repeated a +dozen times at intervals of five seconds, any person who happened to be +in or near the kitchen was glad to give him his biscuit for the sake of +peace and quietness. If no one gave it him, he would then take it out +himself and eat it. + +Now it came to pass that during the last year of the war dog-biscuits, +like many other articles of food for man and beast, grew scarce, and +were finally not to be had at all. At all events, that was what +happened in Dandy's town of Penzance. He missed his biscuits greatly +and often reminded us of it by barking; then, lest we should think he +was barking about something else, he would go and sniff and paw at the +empty box. He perhaps thought it was pure forgetfulness on the part of +those of the house who went every morning to do the marketing and had +fallen into the habit of returning without any dog-biscuits in the +basket. One day during that last winter of scarcity and anxiety I went +to the kitchen and found the floor strewn all over with the fragments +of Dandy's biscuit-box. Dandy himself had done it; he had dragged the +box from its place out into the middle of the floor, and then +deliberately set himself to bite and tear it into small pieces and +scatter them about. He was caught at it just as he was finishing the +job, and the kindly person who surprised him in the act suggested that +the reason of his breaking up the box in that way that he got something +of the biscuit flavour by biting the pieces. My own theory was that as +the box was there to hold biscuits and now held none, he had come to +regard it as useless--as having lost its function, so to speak--also +that its presence there was an insult to his intelligence, a constant +temptation to make a fool of himself by visiting it half a dozen times +a day only to find it empty as usual. Better, then, to get rid of it +altogether, and no doubt when he did it he put a little temper into the +business! + +Dandy, from the time I first knew him, was strictly teetotal, but in +former and distant days he had been rather fond of his glass. If a +person held up a glass of beer before him, I was told, he wagged his +tail in joyful anticipation, and a little beer was always given him at +mealtime. Then he had an experience, which, after a little hesitation, +I have thought it best to relate, as it is perhaps the most curious +incident in Dandy's somewhat uneventful life. + +One day Dandy, who after the manner of his kind, had attached himself +to the person who was always willing to take him out for a stroll, +followed his friend to a neighbouring public-house, where the said +friend had to discuss some business matter with the landlord. They went +into the taproom, and Dandy, finding that the business was going to be +a rather long affair, settled himself down to have a nap. Now it +chanced that a barrel of beer which had just been broached had a leaky +tap, and the landlord had set a basin on the floor to catch the waste. +Dandy, waking from his nap and hearing the trickling sound, got up, and +going to the basin quenched his thirst, after which he resumed his nap. +By-and-by he woke again and had a second drink, and altogether he woke +and had a drink five or six times; then, the business being concluded, +they went out together, but no sooner were they in the fresh air than +Dandy began to exhibit signs of inebriation. He swerved from side to +side, colliding with the passers-by, and finally fell off the pavement +into the swift stream of water which at that point runs in the gutter +at one side of the street. Getting out of the water, he started again, +trying to keep close to the wall to save himself from another ducking. +People looked curiously at him, and by-and-by they began to ask what +the matter was. "Is your dog going to have a fit--or what is it?" they +asked. Dandy's friend said he didn't know; something was the matter no +doubt, and he would take him home as quickly as possible and see to it. + +When they finally got to the house Dandy staggered to his sofa, and +succeeded in climbing on to it and, throwing himself on his cushion, +went fast asleep, and slept on without a break until the following +morning. Then he rose quite refreshed and appeared to have forgotten +all about it; but that day when at dinner-time some one said "Dandy" +and held up a glass of beer, instead of wagging his tail as usual he +dropped it between his legs and turned away in evident disgust. And +from that time onward he would never touch it with his tongue, and it +was plain that when they tried to tempt him, setting beer before him +and smilingly inviting him to drink, he knew they were mocking him, and +before turning away he would emit a low growl and show his teeth. It +was the one thing that put him out and would make him angry with his +friends and life companions. + +I should not have related this incident if Dandy had been alive. But he +is no longer with us. He was old--half-way between fifteen and sixteen: +it seemed as though he had waited to see the end of the war, since no +sooner was the armistice proclaimed than he began to decline rapidly. +Gone deaf and blind, he still insisted on taking several +constitutionals every day, and would bark as usual at the gate, and if +no one came to let him out or admit him, he would open it for himself +as before. This went on till January, 1919, when some of the boys he +knew were coming back to Penzance and to the house. Then he established +himself on his sofa, and we knew that his end was near, for there he +would sleep all day and all night, declining food. It is customary in +this country to chloroform a dog and give him a dose of strychnine to +"put him out of his misery." But it was not necessary in this case, as +he was not in misery; not a groan did he ever emit, waking or sleeping; +and if you put a hand on him he would look up and wag his tail just to +let you know that it was well with him. And in his sleep he passed +away--a perfect case of euthanasia--and was buried in the large garden +near the second apple-tree. + + + + +X + +THE SAMPHIRE GATHERER + + +At sunset, when the strong wind from the sea was beginning to feel +cold, I stood on the top of the sandhill looking down at an old woman +hurrying about over the low damp ground beneath--a bit of sea-flat +divided from the sea by the ridge of sand; and I wondered at her, +because her figure was that of a feeble old woman, yet she moved--I had +almost said flitted--over that damp level ground in a surprisingly +swift light manner, pausing at intervals to stoop and gather something +from the surface. But I couldn't see her distinctly enough to satisfy +myself: the sun was sinking below the horizon, and that dimness in the +air and coldness in the wind at day's decline, when the year too was +declining, made all objects look dim. Going down to her I found that +she was old, with thin grey hair on an uncovered head, a lean dark face +with regular features and grey eyes that were not old and looked +steadily at mine, affecting me with a sudden mysterious sadness. For +they were unsmiling eyes and themselves expressed an unutterable +sadness, as it appeared to me at the first swift glance; or perhaps not +that, as it presently seemed, but a shadowy something which sadness had +left in them, when all pleasure and all interest in life forsook her, +with all affections, and she no longer cherished either memories or +hopes. This may be nothing but conjecture or fancy, but if she had been +a visitor from another world she could not have seemed more strange to +me. + +I asked her what she was doing there so late in the day, and she +answered in a quiet even voice which had a shadow in it too, that she +was gathering samphire of that kind which grows on the flat saltings +and has a dull green leek-like fleshy leaf. At this season, she +informed me, it was fit for gathering to pickle and put by for use +during the year. She carried a pail to put it in, and a table-knife in +her hand to dig the plants up by the roots, and she also had an old +sack in which she put every dry stick and chip of wood she came across. +She added that she had gathered samphire at this same spot every August +end for very many years. + +I prolonged the conversation, questioning her and listening with +affected interest to her mechanical answers, while trying to fathom +those unsmiling, unearthly eyes that looked so steadily at mine. + +And presently, as we talked, a babble of human voices reached our ears, +and half turning we saw the crowd, or rather procession, of golfers +coming from the golf-house by the links where they had been drinking +tea. Ladies and gentlemen players, forty or more of them, following in +a loose line, in couples and small groups, on their way to the Golfers' +Hotel, a little further up the coast; a remarkably good-looking lot +with well-fed happy faces, well-dressed and in a merry mood, all freely +talking and laughing. Some were staying at the hotel, and for the +others a score or so of motor-cars were standing before its gates to +take them inland to their homes, or to houses where they were staying. + +We suspended the conversation while they were passing us, within three +yards of where we stood, and as they passed the story of the links +where they had been amusing themselves since luncheon-time came into my +mind. The land there was owned by an old, an ancient, family; they had +occupied it, so it is said, since the Conquest; but the head of the +house was now poor, having no house property in London, no coal mines +in Wales, no income from any other source than the land, the twenty or +thirty thousand acres let for farming. Even so he would not have been +poor, strictly speaking, but for the sons, who preferred a life of +pleasure in town, where they probably had private establishments of +their own. At all events they kept race-horses, and had their cars, and +lived in the best clubs, and year by year the patient old father was +called upon to discharge their debts of honour. It was a painful +position for so estimable a man to be placed in, and he was much pitied +by his friends and neighbours, who regarded him as a worthy +representative of the best and oldest family in the county. But he was +compelled to do what he could to make both ends meet, and one of the +little things he did was to establish golf-links over a mile or so of +sand-hills, lying between the ancient coast village and the sea, and to +build and run a Golfers' Hotel in order to attract visitors from all +parts. In this way, incidentally, the villagers were cut off from their +old direct way to the sea and deprived of those barren dunes, which +were their open space and recreation ground and had stood them in the +place of a common for long centuries. They were warned off and told +that they must use a path to the beach which took them over half a mile +from the village. And they had been very humble and obedient and had +made no complaint. Indeed, the agent had assured them that they had +every reason to be grateful to the overlord, since in return for that +trivial inconvenience they had been put to they would have the golfers +there, and there would be employment for some of the village boys as +caddies. Nevertheless, I had discovered that they were not grateful but +considered that an injustice had been done to them, and it rankled in +their hearts. + +I remembered all this while the golfers were streaming by, and wondered +if this poor woman did not, like her fellow-villagers, cherish a secret +bitterness against those who had deprived them of the use of the dunes +where for generations they had been accustomed to walk or sit or lie on +the loose yellow sands among the barren grasses, and had also cut off +their direct way to the sea where they went daily in search of bits of +firewood and whatever else the waves threw up which would be a help to +them in their poor lives. + +If it be so, I thought, some change will surely come into those +unchanging eyes at the sight of all these merry, happy golfers on their +way to their hotel and their cars and luxurious homes. But though I +watched her face closely there was no change, no faintest trace of ill- +feeling or feeling of any kind; only that same shadow which had been +there was there still, and her fixed eyes were like those of a captive +bird or animal, that gaze at us, yet seem not to see us but to look +through and beyond us. And it was the same when they had all gone by +and we finished our talk and I put money in her hand; she thanked me +without a smile, in the same quiet even tone of voice in which she had +replied to my question about the samphire. + +I went up once more to the top of the ridge, and looking down saw her +again as I had seen her at first, only dimmer, swiftly, lightly moving +or flitting moth-like or ghost-like over the low flat salting, still +gathering samphire in the cold wind, and the thought that came to me +was that I was looking at and had been interviewing a being that was +very like a ghost, or in any case a soul, a something which could not +be described, like certain atmospheric effects in earth and water and +sky which are ignored by the landscape painter. To protect himself he +cultivates what is called the "sloth of the eye": he thrusts his +fingers into his ears so to speak, not to hear that mocking voice that +follows and mocks him with his miserable limitations. He who seeks to +convey his impressions with a pen is almost as badly off: the most he +can do in such instances as the one related, is to endeavour to convey +the emotion evoked by what he has witnessed. + +Let me then take the case of the man who has trained his eyes, or +rather whose vision has unconsciously trained itself, to look at every +face he meets, to find in most cases something, however little, of the +person's inner life. Such a man could hardly walk the length of the +Strand and Fleet-street or of Oxford-street without being startled at +the sight of a face which haunts him with its tragedy, its mystery, the +strange things it has half revealed. But it does not haunt him long; +another arresting face follows, and then another, and the impressions +all fade and vanish from the memory in a little while. But from time to +time, at long intervals, once perhaps in a lustrum, he will encounter a +face that will not cease to haunt him, whose vivid impression will not +fade for years. It was a face and eyes of that kind which I met in the +samphire gatherer on that cold evening; but the mystery of it is a +mystery still. + + + + +XI + +A SURREY VILLAGE + + +Through the scattered village of Churt, in its deepest part, runs a +clear stream, broad in places, where it spreads over the road-way and +is so shallow that the big carthorses are scarce wetted above their +fetlocks in crossing; in other parts narrow enough for a man to jump +over, yet deep enough for the trout to hide in. And which is the +prettiest one finds it hard to say--the wide splashy places where the +cattle come to drink, and the real cow and the illusory inverted cow +beneath it are to be seen touching their lips; or where the oaks and +ashes and elms stretch and mingle their horizontal branches;--where +there is a green leafy canopy above and its green reflection below with +the glassy current midway between. On one side the stream is Surrey, on +the other Hampshire. Where the two counties meet there is a vast extent +of heath-land--brown desolate moors and hills so dark as to look almost +black. + +It is wild, and its wildness is of that kind which comes of a barren +soil. It is a country best appreciated by those who, rich or poor, take +life easily, who love all aspects of nature, all weathers, and above +everything the liberty of wide horizons. To others the cry of "Back to +the land" would have a somewhat dreary and mocking sound in such a +place, like that curious cry, half laughter and half wail, which the +peewit utters as he anxiously winnows the air with creaking wings above +the pedestrian's head. But it is not all of this character. From some +black hill-top one looks upon a green expanse, fresh and lively by +contrast as the young leaves of deciduous trees in spring, with black +again or dark brown of pine and heath beyond. It is the oasis where +Churt is. The vivifying spirit of the wind at that height, and that +vision of verdure beneath, produce an exhilarating effect on the mind. +It is common knowledge that the devil once lived in or haunted these +parts: now my hill-top fancy tells me that once upon a time a better +being, a wandering angel, flew over the country, and looking down and +seeing it so dark-hued and desolate, a compassionate impulse took him, +and unclasping his light mantle he threw it down, so that the human +inhabitants should not be without that sacred green colour that +elsewhere beautifies the earth. There to this day it lies where it +fell--a mantle of moist vivid green, powdered with silver and gold, +embroidered with all floral hues; all reds from the faint blush on the +petals of the briar-rose to the deep crimson of the red trifolium; and +all yellows, and blues, and purples. + +It was pleasant to return from a ramble over the rough heather to the +shade of the green village lanes, to stand aside in some deep narrow +road to make room for a farmer's waggon to pass, drawn by five or six +ponderous horses; to meet the cows too, smelling of milk and new-mown +hay, attended by the small cow-boy. One notices in most rural districts +how stunted in growth many of the boys of the labourers are; here I was +particularly struck by it on account of the fine physique of many of +the young men. It is possible that the growing time may be later and +more rapid here than in most places. Some of the young men are +exceptionally tall, and there was a larger percentage of tall handsome +women than I have seen in any village in Surrey and Hampshire. But the +children were almost invariably too small for their years. The most +stunted specimen was a little boy I met near Hindhead. He was thin, +with a dry wizened face, and looked at the most about eight years old; +he assured me that he was twelve. I engaged this gnome-like creature to +carry something for me, and we had three or four miles ramble together. +A curious couple we must have seemed--a giant and a pigmy, the pigmy +looking considerably older than the giant. He was a heath-cutter's +child, the eldest of seven children! They were very poor, but he could +earn nothing himself, except by gathering whortleberries in their +season; then he said, all seven of them turned out with their parents, +the youngest in its mother's arms. I questioned him about the birds of +the district; he stoutly maintained that he recognised only four, and +proceeded to name them. + +"Here is another," said I, "a fifth you didn't name, singing in the +bushes half a dozen yards from where we stand--the best singer of all." + +"I did name it," he returned, "that's a thrush." + +It was a nightingale, a bird he did not know. But he knew a thrush--it +was one of the four birds he knew, and he stuck to it that it was a +thrush singing. Afterwards he pointed out the squalid-looking cottage +he lived in. It was on the estate of a great lady. + +"Tell me," I said, "is she much liked on the estate?" + +He pondered the question for a few moments, then replied, "Some likes +her and some don't," and not a word more would he say on that subject. +A curious amalgam of stupidity and shrewdness; a bad observer of bird- +life, but a cautious little person in answering leading questions; he +was evidently growing up (or not doing so) in the wrong place. + +Going out for a stroll in the evening, I came to a spot where two small +cottages stood on one side of the road, and a large pond fringed with +rushes and a coppice on the other. Just by the cottage five boys were +amusing themselves by throwing stones at a mark, talking, laughing and +shouting at their play. Not many yards from the noisy boys some fowls +were picking about on the turf close to the pond; presently out of the +rushes came a moorhen and joined them. It was in fine feather, very +glossy, the brightest nuptial yellow and scarlet on beak and shield. It +moved about, heedless of my presence and of the noisy stone-throwing +boys, with that pretty dignity and unconcern which make it one of the +most attractive birds. What a contrast its appearance and motions +presented to those of the rough-hewn, ponderous fowls, among which it +moved so daintily! I was about to say that he was "just like a modern +gentleman" in the midst of a group of clodhoppers in rough old coats, +hob-nailed boots, and wisps of straw round their corduroys, standing +with clay pipes in their mouths, each with a pot of beer in his hand. +Such a comparison would have been an insult to the moorhen. +Nevertheless some ambitious young gentleman of aesthetic tastes might +do worse than get himself up in this bird's livery. An open coat of +olive-brown silk, with an oblique white band at the side; waistcoat or +cummerbund, and knickerbockers, slaty grey; stockings and shoes of +olive green; and, for a touch of bright colour, an orange and scarlet +tie. It would be pleasant to meet him in Piccadilly. But he would +never, never be able to get that quaint pretty carriage. The "Buzzard +lope" and the crane's stately stride are imitable by man, but not the +moorhen's gait. And what a mess of it our young gentleman would make in +attempting at each step to throw up his coat tails in order to display +conspicuously the white silk underlining! + +While I watched the pretty creature, musing sadly the while on the +ugliness of men's garments, a sudden storm of violent rasping screams +burst from some holly bushes a few yards away. It proceeded from three +excited jays, but whether they were girding at me, the shouting boys, +or a skulking cat among the bushes, I could not make out. + +When I finally left this curious company--noisy boys, great yellow +feather-footed fowls, dainty moorhen and vociferous jays--it was late, +but another amusing experience was in store for me. Leaving the village +I went up the hill to the Devil's Jumps to see the sun set. The Devil, +as I have said, was much about these parts in former times; his habits +were quite familiar to the people, and his name became associated with +some of the principal landmarks and features of the landscape. It was +his custom to go up into these rocks, where, after drawing his long +tail over his shoulder to have it out of his way, he would take one of +his great flying leaps or jumps. On the opposite side of the village we +have the Poor Devil's Bottom--a deep treacherous hole that cuts like a +ravine through the moor, into which the unfortunate fellow once fell +and broke several of his bones. A little further away, on Hindhead, we +have the Devil's Punch Bowl, that huge basin-shaped hollow on the hill +which has now become almost as famous as Flamborough Head or the Valley +of Rocks. + +At the Jumps a shower came on, and to escape a wetting I crept into a +hole or hollow in the rude mass of black basaltic rock which stands +like a fortress or ruined castle on the summit of the hill. When the +shower was nearly over I heard the wing-beats and low guttural voice of +a cuckoo; he did not see my crouching form in the hollow and settled on +a projecting block of stone close to me--not three yards from my head. +Presently he began to call, and it struck me as very curious that his +voice did not sound louder or different in quality than when heard at a +distance of forty or fifty yards. When he had finished calling and +flown away I crept out of my hole and walked back over the wet heath, +thinking now of the cuckoo and now of that half natural, half +supernatural but not very sublime being who, as I have said, was +formerly a haunter of these parts. This was a question that puzzled my +mind. It is easy to say that legends of the Devil are common enough all +over the land, and date back to old monkish times or to the beginning +of Christianity, when the spiritual enemy was very much in man's +thoughts; the curious thing is, that the devil associated in tradition +with certain singular features in the landscape, as it is here in this +Surrey village, and in a thousand other places, has little or no +resemblance to the true and only Satan. He is at his greatest a sort of +demi-god, or a semi-human being or monster of abnormal power and wildly +eccentric habits, but not really bad. Thus, I was told by a native of +Churt that when the Devil met with that serious accident which gave its +name to the Poor Devil's Bottom, his painful cries and groans attracted +the villagers, and they ministered to him, giving him food and drink +and applying such remedies as they knew of to his hurts until he +recovered and got out of the hole. Whether or not this legend has ever +been recorded I cannot say; one is struck with its curious resemblance +to some of the giant legends of the west of England. Near Devizes there +is a deep impression in the earth about which a very different story is +told: it is called the Devil's Jumps and is, I believe, supposed to be +an entrance to his subterranean dwelling-place. He jumps down through +that hole, the earth opens to receive him, and closes behind him. And +it is (or was) believed that if any person will run three times round +the hole the Devil will issue from it and start off in chase of a hare! +Why he comes forth and chases a hare nobody knows. + +It was only recently, when in Cornwall, the most legendary of the +counties, that I found out who and what this rural village devil I had +been thinking of really was. In Cornwall one finds many legends of the +Devil, as many in fact as in Flintshire, where the Devil has left so +many memorials on the downs, but they are few to those relating to the +giants. These legends were collected by Robert Hunt, and first +published over half a century ago in his _Popular Romances of the +West of England_, and he points out in this work that "devil" in +most of the legends appears to be but another name for "giant," that in +many cases the character of the being is practically the same. He +believes that traditions of giants, which probably date back to +prehistoric times, were once common all over the country, that they +were always associated with certain impressive features in the +landscape--grotesque hills, chasms and hollows in the downs and huge +masses of rock; that the early teachers of Christianity, anxious to +kill these traditions, or to blot out a false belief or superstition +with the darker and more terrible image of a powerful being at war with +man, taught that "giant" was but another name for Devil. If this is so, +the teaching was not altogether good policy. The giants, it is true, +were an awesome folk and flung immense rocks about in a reckless manner +and did many other mad things; and there were some that were wholly +bad, just as there are rogue elephants and as there are black sheep in +the human flock, but they were not really bad as a rule, and certainly +not too intelligent. Even little men with their cunning little brains +could get the better of them. The result of such teaching could only be +that the Devil would be regarded as not the unmitigated monster they +had been told that he was, nor without human weaknesses and virtues. +When we say now that he is not "as black as he is painted" we may be +merely repeating what was being said by the common people of England in +the days of St. Augustine and St. Colomb, and of the Irish missionaries +in Cornwall. + + + + +XII + +A WILTSHIRE VILLAGE + + +"What is your nearest village?" I asked of a labourer I met on the road +one bleak day in early spring, after a great frost: for I had walked +far enough and was cold and tired, and it seemed to me that it would be +well to find shelter for the night and a place to settle down in for a +season. + +"Burbage," he answered, pointing the way to it. + +And when I came to it, and walked slowly and thoughtfully the entire +length of its one long street or road, my sister said to me: + +"Yet another old ancient village!" and then, with a slight tremor in +her voice, "And you are going to stay in it!" + +"Yes," I replied, in a tone of studied indifference: but as to whether +it was ancient or not I could not say;--I had never heard its name +before, and knew nothing about it: doubtless it was characteristic-- +"That weary word," she murmured. + +--But it was neither strikingly picturesque, nor quaint, nor did I wish +it were either one or the other, nor anything else attractive or +remarkable, since I sought only for a quiet spot where my brain might +think the thoughts and my hand do the work that occupied me. A village +remote, rustic, commonplace, that would make no impression on my +preoccupied mind and leave no lasting image, nor anything but a faint +and fading memory. + + Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, + And tempted her out of her gloom-- + And conquered her scruples and gloom. + +And fortune favoured her, all things conspiring to keep me content to +walk in that path which I had so readily, so lightly, promised to keep: +for the work to be done was bread and cheese to me, and in a sense to +her, and had to be done, and there was nothing to distract attention. + +It was quiet in my chosen cottage, in the low-ceilinged room where I +usually sat: outside, the walls were covered with ivy which made it +like a lonely lodge in a wood; and when I opened my small outward- +opening latticed window there was no sound except the sighing of the +wind in the old yew tree growing beside and against the wall, and at +intervals the chirruping of a pair of sparrows that flew up from time +to time from the road with long straws in their bills. They were +building a nest beneath my window--possibly it was the first nest made +that year in all this country. + +All the day long it was quiet; and when, tired of work, I went out and +away from the village across the wide vacant fields, there was nothing +to attract the eye. The deadly frost which had held us for long weeks +in its grip had gone, for it was now drawing to the end of March, but +winter was still in the air and in the earth. Day after day a dull +cloud was over all the sky and the wind blew cold from the north-east. +The aspect of the country, as far as one could see in that level plain, +was wintry and colourless. The hedges in that part are kept cut and +trimmed so closely that they seemed less like hedges than mere faint +greyish fences of brushwood, dividing field from field: they would not +have afforded shelter to a hedge-sparrow. The trees were few and far +apart--grey naked oaks, un-visited even by the tits that find their +food in bark and twig; the wide fields between were bare and devoid of +life of man or beast or bird. Ploughed and grass lands were equally +desolate; for the grass was last year's, long dead and now of that +neutral, faded, and palest of all pale dead colours in nature. It is +not white nor yellow, and there is no name for it. Looking down when I +walked in the fields the young spring grass could be seen thrusting up +its blades among the old and dead, but at a distance of a few yards +these delicate living green threads were invisible. + +Coming back out of the bleak wind it always seemed strangely warm in +the village street--it was like coming into a room in which a fire has +been burning all day. So grateful did I find this warmth of the deep +old sheltered road, so vocal too and full of life did it seem after the +pallor and silence of the desolate world without, that I made it my +favourite walk, measuring its length from end to end. Nor was it +strange that at last, unconsciously, in spite of a preoccupied brain +and of the assurance given that I would reside in the village, like a +snail in its shell, without seeing it, an impression began to form and +an influence to be felt. + +Some vague speculations passed through my mind as to how old the +village might be. I had heard some person remark that it had formerly +been much more populous, that many of its people had from time to time +drifted away to the towns; their old empty cottages pulled down and no +new ones built. The road was deep and the cottages on either side stood +six to eight or nine feet above it. Where a cottage stood close to the +edge of the road and faced it, the door was reached by a flight of +stone or brick steps; at such cottages the landing above the steps was +like a balcony, where one could stand and look down upon a passing +cart, or the daily long straggling procession of children going to or +returning from the village school. I counted the steps that led up to +my own front door and landing place and found there were ten: I took it +that each step represented a century's wear of the road by hoof and +wheel and human feet, and the conclusion was thus that the village was +a thousand years old--probably it was over two thousand. A few +centuries more or less did not seem to matter much; the subject did not +interest me in the least, my passing thought about it was an idle straw +showing which way the mental wind was blowing. + +Albeit half-conscious of what that way was, I continued to assure +Psyche--my sister--that all was going well: that if she would only keep +quiet there would be no trouble, seeing that I knew my own weakness so +well--a habit of dropping the thing I am doing because something more +interesting always crops up. Here fortunately for us (and our bread and +cheese) there was nothing interesting--ab-so-lute-ly. + +But in the end, when the work was finished, the image that had been +formed could no longer be thrust away and forgotten. It was there, an +entity as well as an image--an intelligent masterful being who said to +me not in words but very plainly: _Try to ignore me and it will be +worse for you: a secret want will continually disquiet you: recognize +my existence and right to dwell in and possess your soul, as you dwell +in mine, and there will be a pleasant union and peace between us._ + +To resist, to argue the matter like some miserable metaphysician would +have been useless. + + +The persistent image was of the old deep road, the green bank on each +side, on which stood thatched cottages, whitewashed or of the pale red +of old weathered bricks; each with its plot of ground or garden with, +in some cases, a few fruit trees. Here and there stood a large shade +tree--oak or pine or yew; then a vacant space, succeeded by a hedge, +gapped and ragged and bare, or of evergreen holly or yew, smoothly +trimmed; then a ploughed field, and again cottages, looking up or down +the road, or placed obliquely, or facing it: and looking at one +cottage and its surrounding, there would perhaps be a water-butt +standing beside it; a spade and fork leaning against the wall; a +white cat sitting in the shelter idly regarding three or four fowls +moving about at a distance of a few yards, their red feathers ruffled +by the wind; further away a wood-pile; behind it a pigsty sheltered +by bushes, and on the ground, among the dead weeds, a chopping-block, +some broken bricks, little heaps of rusty iron, and other litter. Each +plot had its own litter and objects and animals. + +On the steeply sloping sides of the road the young grass was springing +up everywhere among the old rubbish of dead grass and leaves and sticks +and stems. More conspicuous than the grass blades, green as verdigris, +were the arrow-shaped leaves of the arum or cuckoo-pint. But there were +no flowers yet except the wild strawberry, and these so few and small +that only the eager eyes of the little children, seeking for spring, +might find them. + +Nor was the village less attractive in its sounds than in the natural +pleasing disorder of its aspect and the sheltering warmth of its +street. In the fields and by the skimpy hedges perfect silence reigned; +only the wind blowing in your face filled your ears with a rushing +aerial sound like that which lives in a seashell. Coming back from this +open bleak silent world, the village street seemed vocal with bird +voices. For the birds, too, loved the shelter which had enabled them to +live through that great frost; and they were now recovering their +voices; and whenever the wind lulled and a gleam of sunshine fell from +the grey sky, they were singing from end to end of the long street. + +Listening to, and in some instances seeing the singers and counting +them, I found that there were two thrushes, four blackbirds, several +chaffinches and green finches, one pair of goldfinches, half-a-dozen +linnets and three or four yellow-hammers; a sprinkling of hedge- +sparrows, robins and wrens all along the street; and finally, one +skylark from a field close by would rise and sing at a considerable +height directly above the road. Gazing up at the lark and putting +myself in his place, the village beneath with its one long street +appeared as a vari-coloured band lying across the pale earth. There +were dark and bright spots, lines and streaks, of yew and holly, red or +white cottage walls and pale yellow thatch; and the plots and gardens +were like large reticulated mottlings. Each had its centre of human +life with life of bird and beast, and the centres were in touch with +one another, connected like a row of children linked together by their +hands; all together forming one organism, instinct with one life, moved +by one mind, like a many-coloured serpent lying at rest, extended at +full length upon the ground. + +I imagined the case of a cottager at one end of the village occupied in +chopping up a tough piece of wood or stump and accidentally letting +fall his heavy sharp axe on to his foot, inflicting a grievous wound. +The tidings of the accident would fly from mouth to mouth to the other +extremity of the village, a mile distant; not only would every +individual quickly know of it, but have at the same time a vivid mental +image of his fellow villager at the moment of his misadventure, the +sharp glittering axe falling on to his foot, the red blood flowing from +the wound; and he would at the same time feel the wound in his own +foot, and the shock to his system. + +In like manner all thoughts and feelings would pass freely from one to +another, although not necessarily communicated by speech; and all would +be participants in virtue of that sympathy and solidarity uniting the +members of a small isolated community. No one would be capable of a +thought or emotion which would seem strange to the others. The temper, +the mood, the outlook, of the individual and the village would be the +same. + +I remember that something once occurred in a village where I was +staying, which was in a way important to the villagers, although it +gave them nothing and took nothing from them: it excited them without +being a question of politics, or of "morality," to use the word in its +narrow popular sense. I spoke first to a woman of the village about it, +and was not a little surprised at the view she took of the matter, for +to me this seemed unreasonable; but I soon found that all the villagers +took this same unreasonable view, their indignation, pity and other +emotions excited being all expended as it seemed to me in the wrong +direction. The woman had, in fact, merely spoken the mind of the +village. + +Owing to this close intimacy and family character of the village which +continues from generation to generation, there must be under all +differences on the surface a close mental likeness hardly to be +realised by those who live in populous centres; a union between mind +and mind corresponding to that reticulation as it appeared to me, of +plot with plot and with all they contained. It is perhaps equally hard +to realise that this one mind of a particular village is individual, +wholly its own, unlike that of any other village, near or far. For one +village differs from another; and the village is in a sense a body, and +this body and the mind that inhabits it, act and react on one another, +and there is between them a correspondence and harmony, although it may +be but a rude harmony. + +It is probable that we that are country born and bred are affected in +more ways and more profoundly than we know by our surroundings. The +nature of the soil we live on, the absence or presence of running +water, of hills, rocks, woods, open spaces; every feature in the +landscape, the vegetative and animal life--everything in fact that we +see, hear, smell and feel, enters not into the body only, but the soul, +and helps to shape and colour it. Equally important in its action on us +are the conditions created by man himself:--situation, size, form and +the arrangements of the houses in the village; its traditions, customs +and social life. + +On that airy _mirador_ which I occupied under (not in) the clouds, +after surveying the village beneath me I turned my sight abroad and +saw, near and far, many many other villages; and there was no other +exactly like Burbage nor any two really alike. + +Each had its individual character. To mention only two that were +nearest--East Grafton and Easton, or Easton Royal. The first, small +ancient rustic-looking place: a large green, park-like shaded by well- +grown oak, elm, beech, and ash trees; a small slow stream of water +winding through it: round this pleasant shaded and watered space the +low-roofed thatched cottages, each cottage in its own garden, its porch +and walls overgrown with ivy and creepers. Thus, instead of a straight +line like Burbage it formed a circle, and every cottage opened on to +the tree-shaded village green; and this green was like a great common +room where the villagers meet, where the children play, where lovers +whisper their secrets, where the aged and weary take their rest, and +all subjects of interest are daily discussed. If a blackcap or +chaffinch sung in one of the trees the strain could be heard in every +cottage in the circle. All hear and see the same things, and think and +feel the same. + +The neighbouring village was neither line, nor circle, but a cluster of +cottages. Or rather a group of clusters, so placed that a dozen or more +housewives could stand at their respective doors, very nearly facing +one another, and confabulate without greatly raising their voices. +Outside, all round, the wide open country--grass and tilled land and +hedges and hedgerow elms--is spread out before them. And in sight of +all the cottages, rising a little above them, stands the hoary ancient +church with giant old elm-trees growing near it, their branches laden +with rooks' nests, the air full of the continuous noise of the +wrangling birds, as they fly round and round, and go and come bringing +sticks all day, one to add to the high airy city, the other to drop as +an offering to the earth-god beneath, in whose deep-buried breast the +old trees have their roots. + +But the other villages that cannot be named were in scores and +hundreds, scattered all over Wiltshire, for the entire county was +visible from that altitude, and not Wiltshire only but Somerset, and +Berkshire and Hampshire, and all the adjoining counties, and finally, +the prospect still widening, all England from rocky Land's End to the +Cheviots and the wide windy moors sprinkled over with grey stone +villages. Thousands and thousands of villages; but I could only see a +few distinctly--not more than about two hundred, the others from their +great distance--not in space but time--appearing but vaguely as spots +of colour on the earth. Then, fixing my attention on those that were +most clearly seen, I found myself in thought loitering in them, +revisiting cottages and conversing with old people and children I knew; +and recalling old and remembered scenes and talks, I smiled and by-and- +by burst out laughing. + +It was then, when I laughed, that visions, dreams, memories, were put +to flight, for my wise sister was studying my face, and now, putting +her hand on mine, she said, "Listen!" And I listened, sadly, since I +could guess what was coming. + +"I know," she said, "just what is at the back of your mind, and all +these innumerable villages you are amusing yourself by revisiting, is +but a beginning, a preliminary canter. For not only is it the idea of +the village and the mental colour in which it dyes its children's mind +which fades never, however far they may go, though it may be to die at +last in remote lands and seas--" + +Here I interrupted, "O yes! Do you remember a poet's lines to the +little bourne in his childhood's home? A poet in that land where poetry +is a rare plant--I mean Scotland. I mean the lines: + + How men that niver have kenned aboot it + Can lieve their after lives withoot it + I canna tell, for day and nicht + It comes unca'd for to my sicht." + +"Yes," she replied, smiling sadly, and then, mocking my bad Scotch, +"and do ye ken that ither one, a native too of that country where, as +you say, poetry is a rare plant; that great wanderer over many lands +and seas, seeker after summer everlasting, who died thousands of miles +from home in a tropical island, and was borne to his grave on a +mountain top by the dark-skinned barbarous islanders, weeping and +lamenting their dead Tusitala, and the lines he wrote--do you remember? + + Be it granted to me to behold you again in dying, + Hills of my home! and to hear again the call-- + Hear about the graves of the martyrs, the pee-wees crying, + And hear no more at all!" + +"Oh, I was foolish to quote those lines on a Scotch burn to you, +knowing how you would take such a thing up! For you are the very soul +of sadness--a sadness that is like a cruelty--and for all your love, my +sister, you would have killed me with your sadness had I not refused to +listen so many many times!" + +"No! No! No! Listen now to what I had to say without interrupting me +again: All this about the villages, viewed from up there where the lark +sings, is but a preliminary--a little play to deceive yourself and me. +For, all the time you are thinking of other things, serious and some +exceedingly sad--of those who live not in villages but in dreadful +cities, who are like motherless men who have never known a mother's +love and have never had a home on earth. And you are like one who has +come upon a cornfield, ripe for the harvest with you alone to reap it. +And viewing it you pluck an ear of corn, and rub the grains out in the +palm of your hand, and toss them up, laughing and playing with them +like a child, pretending you are thinking of nothing, yet all the time +thinking--thinking of the task before you. And presently you will take +to the reaping and reap until the sun goes down, to begin again at +sunrise to toil and sweat again until evening. Then, lifting your bent +body with pain and difficulty, you will look to see how little you have +done, and that the field has widened and now stretches away before you +to the far horizon. And in despair you will cast the sickle away and +abandon the task." + +"What then, O wise sister, would you have me do?" + +"Leave it now, and save yourself this fresh disaster and suffering." + +"So be it! I cannot but remember that there have been many disasters-- +more than can be counted on the fingers of my two hands--which I would +have saved myself if I had listened when I turned a deaf ear to you. +But tell me, do you mind just a little more innocent play on my part-- +just a little picture of, say, one of the villages viewed a while ago +from under the cloud--or perhaps two?" + +And Psyche, my sister, having won _her_ point and pacified me, and +conquered my scruples and gloom, and seeing me now submissive, smiled a +gracious consent. + + + + +XIII + +HER OWN VILLAGE + + +One afternoon when cycling among the limestone hills of Derbyshire I +came to an unlovely dreary-looking little village named Chilmorton. It +was an exceptionally hot June day and I was consumed with thirst: never +had I wanted tea so badly. Small gritstone-built houses and cottages of +a somewhat sordid aspect stood on either side of the street, but there +was no shop of any kind and not a living creature could I see. It was +like a village of the dead or sleeping. At the top of the street I came +to the church standing in the middle of its church yard with the +public-house for nearest neighbour. Here there was life. Going in I +found it the most squalid and evil-smelling village pub I had ever +entered. Half a dozen grimy-looking labourers were drinking at the bar, +and the landlord was like them in appearance, with his dirty shirt- +front open to give his patrons a view of his hairy sweating chest. I +asked him to get me tea. "Tea!" he shouted, staring at me as if I had +insulted him; "There's no tea here!" A little frightened at his +aggressive manner I then meekly asked for soda-water, which he gave me, +and it was warm and tasted like a decoction of mouldy straw. After +taking a sip and paying for it I went to look at the church, which I +was astonished to find open. + +It was a relief to be in that cool, twilight, not unbeautiful interior +after my day in the burning sun. + +After resting and taking a look round I became interested in watching +and listening to the talk of two other visitors who had come in before +me. One was a slim, rather lean brown-skinned woman, still young but +with the incipient crow's-feet, the lines on the forehead, the dusty- +looking dark hair, and other signs of time and toil which almost +invariably appear in the country labourer's wife before she attains to +middle age. She was dressed in a black gown, presumably her best +although it was getting a little rusty. Her companion was a fat, red- +cheeked young girl in a towny costume, a straw hat decorated with +bright flowers and ribbons, and a string of big coloured beads about +her neck. + +In a few minutes they went out, and when going by me I had a good look +at the woman's face, for it was turned towards me with an eager +questioning look in her dark eyes and a very friendly smile on her +lips. What was the attraction I suddenly found in that sunburnt face?-- +what did it say to me or remind me of?--what did it suggest? + +I followed them out to where they were standing talking among the +gravestones, and sitting down on a tomb near them spoke to the woman. +She responded readily enough, apparently pleased to have some one to +talk to, and pretty soon began to tell me the history of their lives. +She told me that Chilmorton was her native place, but that she had been +absent from it many many years. She knew just how many years because +her child was only six months old when she left and was now fourteen +though she looked more. She was such a big girl! Then her man took them +to his native place in Staffordshire, where they had lived ever since. +But their girl didn't live with them now. An aunt, a sister of her +husband, had taken her to the town where she lived, and was having her +taught at a private school. As soon as she left school her aunt hoped +to get her a place in a draper's shop. For a long time past she had +wanted to show her daughter her native place, but had never been able +to manage it because it was so far to come and they didn't have much +money to spend; but now at last she had brought her and was showing her +everything. + +Glancing at the girl who stood listening but with no sign of interest +in her face, I remarked that her daughter would perhaps hardly think +the journey had been worth taking. + +"Why do you say that?" she quickly demanded. + +"Oh well," I replied, "because Chilmorton can't have much to interest a +girl living in a town." Then I foolishly went on to say what I thought +of Chilmorton. The musty taste of that warm soda-water was still in my +mouth and made me use some pretty strong words. + +At that she flared up and desired me to know that in spite of what I +thought it Chilmorton was the sweetest, dearest village in England; +that she was born there and hoped to be buried in its churchyard where +her parents were lying, and her grandparents and many others of her +family. She was thirty-six years old now, she said, and would perhaps +live to be an old woman, but it would make her miserable for all the +rest of her life if she thought she would have to lie in the earth at a +distance from Chilmorton. + +During this speech I began to think of the soft reply it would now be +necessary for me to make, when, having finished speaking, she called +sharply to her daughter, "Come, we've others to see yet," and, followed +by the girl, walked briskly away without so much as a good-bye, or even +a glance! + +Oh you poor foolish woman, thought I; why take it to heart like that! +and I was sorry and laughed a little as I went back down the street. It +was beginning to wake up now! A man in his shirt sleeves and without a +hat, a big angry man, was furiously hunting a rebellious pig all round +a small field adjoining a cottage, trying to corner it; he swore and +shouted, and out of the cottage came a frowsy-looking girl in a ragged +gown with her hair hanging all over her face, to help him with the pig. +A little further on I caught sight of yet another human being, a tall +gaunt old woman in cap and shawl, who came out of a cottage and moved +feebly towards a pile of faggots a few yards from the door. Just as she +got to the pile I passed, and she slowly turned and gazed at me out of +her dim old eyes. Her wrinkled face was the colour of ashes and was +like the face of a corpse, still bearing on it the marks of suffering +endured for many miserable years. And these three were the only +inhabitants I saw on my way down the street. + +At the end of the village the street broadened to a clean white road +with high ancient hedgerow elms on either side, their upper branches +meeting and forming a green canopy over it. As soon as I got to the +trees I stopped and dismounted to enjoy the delightful sensation the +shade produced: there out of its power I could best appreciate the sun +shining in splendour on the wide green hilly earth and in the green +translucent foliage above my head. In the upper branches a blackbird +was trolling out his music in his usual careless leisurely manner; when +I stopped under it the singing was suspended for half a minute or so, +then resumed, but in a lower key, which made it seem softer, sweeter, +inexpressibly beautiful. + +There are beautiful moments in our converse with nature when all the +avenues by which nature comes to our souls seem one, when hearing and +seeing and smelling and feeling are one sense, when the sweet sound +that falls from a bird, is but the blue of heaven, the green of earth, +and the golden sunshine made audible. + +Such a moment was mine, as I stood under the elms listening to the +blackbird. And looking back up the village street I thought of the +woman in the churchyard, her sun-parched eager face, her questioning +eyes and friendly smile: what was the secret of its attraction?--what +did that face say to me or remind me of?--what did it suggest? + +Now it was plain enough. She was still a child at heart, in spite of +those marks of time and toil on her countenance, still full of wonder +and delight at this wonderful world of Chilmorton set amidst its +limestone hills, under the wide blue sky--this poor squalid little +village where I couldn't get a cup of tea! + +It was the child surviving in her which had attracted and puzzled me; +it does not often shine through the dulling veil of years so brightly. +And as she now appeared to me as a child in heart I could picture her +as a child in years, in her little cotton frock and thin bare legs, a +sunburnt little girl of eight, with the wide-eyed, eager, half-shy, +half-trustful look, asking you, as the child ever asks, what you +think?--what you feel? It was a wonderful world, and the world was the +village, its streets of gritstone houses, the people living in them, +the comedies and tragedies of their lives and deaths, and burials in +the churchyard with grass and flowers to grow over them by-and-by. And +the church;--I think its interior must have seemed vaster, more +beautiful and sublime to her wondering little soul than the greatest +cathedral can be to us. I think that our admiration for the loveliest +blooms--the orchids and roses and chrysanthemums at our great annual +shows--is a poor languid feeling compared to what she experienced at +the sight of any common flower of the field. Best of all perhaps were +the elms at the village end, those mighty rough-barked trees that had +their tops "so close against the sky." And I think that when a +blackbird chanced to sing in the upper branches it was as if some +angelic being had dropped down out of the sky into that green +translucent cloud of leaves, and seeing the child's eager face looking +up had sung a little song of his own celestial country to please her. + + + + +XIV + +APPLE BLOSSOMS AND A LOST VILLAGE + + +The apple has not come to its perfection this season until the middle +of May; even here, in this west country, the very home of the spirit of +the apple tree! Now it is, or seems, all the more beautiful because of +its lateness, and of an April of snow and sleet and east winds, the +bitter feeling of which is hardly yet out of our blood. If I could +recover the images of all the flowering apple trees I have ever looked +delightedly at, adding those pictured by poets and painters, including +that one beneath which Fiammetta is standing, forever, with that fresh +glad face almost too beautiful for earth, looking out as from pink and +white clouds of the multitudinous blossoms--if I could see all that, I +could not find a match for one of the trees of to-day. It is like +nothing in earth, unless we say that, indescribable in its loveliness, +it is like all other sights in nature which wake in us a sense of the +supernatural. + +Undoubtedly the apple trees seem more beautiful to us than all other +blossoming trees, in all lands we have visited, just because it is so +common, so universal--I mean in this west country--so familiar a sight +to everyone from infancy, on which account it has more associations of +a tender and beautiful kind than the others. For however beautiful it +may be intrinsically, the greatest share of the charm is due to the +memories that have come to be part of and one with it--the forgotten +memories they may be called. For they mostly refer to a far period in +our lives, to our early years, to days and events that were happy and +sad. The events themselves have faded from the mind, but they +registered an emotion, cumulative in its effect, which endures and +revives from time to time and is that indefinable feeling, that tender +melancholy and "divine despair," and those idle tears of which the poet +says, "I know not what they mean," which gather to the eyes at the +sight of happy autumn fields and of all lovely natural sights familiar +from of old. + +To-day, however, looking at the apple blooms, I find the most +beautifying associations and memories not in a far-off past, but in +visionary apple trees seen no longer ago than last autumn! + +And this is how it comes about. In this red and green country of Devon +I am apt to meet with adventures quite unlike those experienced in +other counties, only they are mostly adventures of the spirit. + +Lying awake at six o'clock last October, in Exeter, and seeing it was a +grey misty morning, my inclination was to sleep again. I only dozed and +was in the twilight condition when the mind is occupied with idle +images and is now in the waking world, now in dreamland. A thought of +the rivers in the red and green country floated through my brain--of +the Clyst among others; then of the villages on the Clyst; of +Broadclyst, Clyst St. Mary, Clyst St. Lawrence, finally of Clyst Hyden; +and although dozing I half laughed to remember how I went searching for +that same village last May and how I wouldn't ask my way of anyone, +just because it was Clyst Hyden, because the name of that little hidden +rustic village had been written in the hearts of some who had passed +away long ago, far far from home:--how then could I fail to find it?-- +it would draw my feet like a magnet! + +I remembered how I searched among deep lanes, beyond rows and rows of +ancient hedgerow elms, and how I found its little church and thatched +cottages at last, covered with ivy and roses and creepers, all in a +white and pink cloud of apple blossoms. Searching for it had been great +fun and finding it a delightful experience; why not have the pleasure +once more now that it was May again and the apple orchards in blossom? +No sooner had I asked myself the question than I was on my bicycle +among those same deep lanes, with the unkept hedges and the great +hedgerow elms shutting out a view of the country, searching once more +for the village of Clyst Hyden. And as on the former occasion, years +ago it seemed, I would not enquire my way of anyone. I had found it +then for myself and was determined to do so again, although I had set +out with the vaguest idea as to the right direction. + +But hours went by and I could not find it, and now it was growing late. +Through a gap in the hedge I saw the great red globe of the sun quite +near the horizon, and immediately after seeing it I was in a narrow +road with a green border, which stretched away straight before me +further than I could see. Then the thatched cottages of a village came +into sight; all were on one side of the road, and the setting sun +flamed through the trees had kindled road and trees and cottages to a +shining golden flame. + +"This is it!" I cried. "This is my little lost village found again, and +it is well I found it so late in the day, for now it looks less like +even the loveliest old village in Devon than one in fairyland, or in +Beulah." + +When I came near it that sunset splendour did not pass off and it was +indeed like no earthly village; then people came out from the houses to +gaze at me, and they too were like people glorified with the sunset +light and their faces shone as they advanced hurriedly to meet me, +pointing with their hands and talking and laughing excitedly as if my +arrival among them had been an event of great importance. In a moment +they surrounded and crowded round me, and sitting still among them +looking from radiant face to face I at length found my speech and +exclaimed, "O how beautiful!" + +Then a girl pressed forward from among the others, and putting up her +hand she placed it on my temple, the fingers resting on my forehead; +and gazing with a strange earnestness in my eyes she said: "Beautiful?-- +only that! Do you see nothing more?" + +I answered, looking back into her eyes: "Yes--I think there is +something more but I don't know what it is. Does it come from you--your +eyes--your voice, all this that is passing in my mind?" + +"What is passing in your mind?" she asked. + +"I don't know. Thoughts--perhaps memories: hundreds, thousands--they +come and go like lightning so that I can't arrest them--not even one!" + +She laughed, and the laugh was like her eyes and her voice and the +touch of her hand on my temples. + +Was it sad or glad? I don't know, but it was the most beautiful sound I +had ever heard, yet it seemed familiar and stirred me in the strangest +way. + +"Let me think," I said. + +"Yes, think!" they all together cried laughingly; and then instantly +when I cast my eyes down there was a perfect stillness as if they were +all holding their breath and watching me. + +That sudden strange stillness startled me: I lifted my eyes and they +were gone--the radiant beautiful people who had surrounded and +interrogated me, and with them their shining golden village, had all +vanished. There was no village, no deep green lanes and pink and white +clouds of apple blossoms, and it was not May, it was late October and I +was lying in bed in Exeter seeing through the window the red and grey +roofs and chimneys and pale misty white sky. + + + + +XV + +THE VANISHING CURTSEY + + +'Tis impossible not to regret the dying out of the ancient, quaintly- +pretty custom of curtseying in rural England; yet we cannot but see the +inevitableness of it, when we consider the earthward drop of the body-- +the bird-like gesture pretty to see in the cottage child, not so +spontaneous nor pretty in the grown girl, and not pretty nor quaint, +but rather grotesque (as we think now) in the middle-aged or elderly +person--and that there is no longer a corresponding self-abasement and +worshipping attitude in the village mind. It is a sign or symbol that +has lost, or is losing, its significance. + +I have been rambling among a group of pretty villages on and near the +Somerset Avon, some in that county, others in Wiltshire; and though +these small rustic centres, hidden among the wooded hills, had an +appearance of antiquity and of having continued unchanged for very many +years, the little ones were as modern in their speech and behaviour as +town children. Of all those I met and, in many instances, spoke to, in +the village street and in the neighbouring woods and lanes, not one +little girl curtseyed to me. The only curtsey I had dropped to me in +this district was from an old woman in the small hill-hidden village of +Englishcombe. It was on a frosty afternoon in February, and she stood +near her cottage gate with nothing on her head, looking at the same +time very old and very young. Her eyes were as blue and bright as a +child's, and her cheeks were rosy-red; but the skin was puckered with +innumerable wrinkles as in the very old. Surprised at her curtsey I +stopped to speak to her, and finally went into her cottage and had tea +and made the acquaintance of her husband, a gaunt old man with a face +grey as ashes and dim colourless eyes, whom Time had made almost an +imbecile, and who sat all day groaning by the fire. Yet this worn-out +old working man was her junior by several years. Her age was eighty- +four. She was very good company, certainly the brightest and liveliest +of the dozen or twenty octogenarians I am acquainted with. I heard the +story of her life,--that long life in the village where she was born +and had spent sixty-five years of married life, and where she would lie +in the churchyard with her mate. Her Christian name, she mentioned, was +Priscilla, and it struck me that she must have been a very pretty and +charming Priscilla about the thirties of the last century. + +To return to the little ones; it was too near Bath for such a custom to +survive among them, and it is the same pretty well everywhere; you must +go to a distance of ten or twenty miles from any large town, or a big +station, to meet with curtseying children. Even in villages at a +distance from towns and railroads, in purely agricultural districts, +the custom is dying out, if, for some reason, strangers are often seen +in the place. Such a village is Selborne, and an amusing experience I +met with there some time ago serves to show that the old rustic +simplicity of its inhabitants is now undergoing a change. + +I was walking in the village street with a lady friend when we noticed +four little girls coming towards us with arms linked. As they came near +they suddenly stopped and curtseyed all together in an exaggerated +manner, dropping till their knees touched the ground, then springing to +their feet they walked rapidly away. From the bold, free, easy way in +which the thing was done it was plain to see that they had been +practising the art in something of a histrionic spirit for the benefit +of the pilgrims and strangers frequently seen in the village, and for +their own amusement. As the little Selbornians walked off they glanced +back at us over their shoulders, exhibiting four roguish smiles on +their four faces. The incident greatly amused us, but I am not sure +that the Reverend Gilbert White would have regarded it in the same +humorous light. + +Occasionally one even finds a village where strangers are not often +seen, which has yet outlived the curtsey. Such a place, I take it, is +Alvediston, the small downland village on the upper waters of the +Ebble, in southern Wiltshire. One day last summer I was loitering near +the churchyard, when a little girl, aged about eight, came from an +adjoining copse with some wild flowers in her hand. She was singing as +she walked and looked admiringly at the flowers she carried; but she +could see me watching her out of the corners of her eyes. + +"Good morning," said I. "It is nice to be out gathering flowers on such +a day, but why are you not in school?" + +"Why am I not in school?" in a tone of surprise. "Because the holidays +are not over. On Monday we open." + +"How delighted you will be." + +"Oh no, I don't _think_ I shall be delighted," she returned. Then +I asked her for a flower, and apparently much amused she presented me +with a water forget-me-not, then she sauntered on to a small cottage +close by. Arrived there, she turned round and faced me, her hand on the +gate, and after gazing steadily for some moments exclaimed, "Delighted +at going back to school--who ever heard such a thing?" and, bursting +into a peal of musical child-laughter, she went into the cottage. + +One would look for curtseys in the Flower Walk in Kensington Gardens as +soon as in the hamlet of this remarkably self-possessed little maid. +Her manner was exceptional; but, if we must lose the curtsey, and the +rural little ones cease to mimic that pretty drooping motion of the +nightingale, the kitty wren, and wheatear, cannot our village pastors +and masters teach them some less startling and offensive form of +salutation than the loud "Hullo!" with which they are accustomed to +greet the stranger within their gates? + +I shall finish with another story which might be entitled "The Democrat +against Curtseying." The scene was a rustic village, a good many miles +from any railroad station, in the south of England. Here I made the +acquaintance and was much in the society of a man who was not a native +of the place, but had lived several years in it. Although only a +working man, he had, by sheer force of character, made himself a power +in the village. A total abstainer and non-smoker, a Dissenter in +religion and lay-preacher where Dissent had never found a foothold +until his coming, and an extreme Radical in politics, he was naturally +something of a thorn in the side of the vicar and of the neighbouring +gentry. + +But in spite of his extreme views and opposition to old cherished ideas +and conventions, he was so liberal-minded, so genial in temper, so +human, that he was very much liked even by those who were his enemies +on principle; and they were occasionally glad to have his help and to +work with him in any matter that concerned the welfare of the very poor +in the village. + +After the first bitterness between him and the important inhabitants +had been outlived and a _modus vivendi_ established, the vicar +ventured one day to remonstrate with the good but mistaken man on the +subject of curtseying, which had always been strictly observed in the +village. The complaint was that the parishioner's wife did not curtsey +to the vicaress, but on the contrary, when she met or passed her on the +road she maintained an exceedingly stiff, erect attitude, which was not +right, and far from pleasant to the other. + +"Is it then your desire," said my democratic friend, "that my wife +shall curtsey to your wife when they meet or pass each other in the +village?" + +"Certainly, that is my wish," said the vicar. + +"Very well," said the other; "my wife is guided by me in such matters, +and I am very happy to say that she is an obedient wife, and I shall +tell her that she is to curtsey to your wife in future." + +"Thank you," said the vicar, "I am glad that you have taken it in a +proper spirit." + +"But I have not yet finished," said the other. "I was going to add that +this command to my wife to curtsey to your wife will be made by me on +the understanding that you will give a similar command to your wife, +and that when they meet and my wife curtseys to your wife, your wife +shall at the same time curtsey to my wife." + +The vicar was naturally put out and sharply told his rebellious +parishioner that he was setting himself against the spirit of the +teaching of the Master whom they both acknowledged, and who commanded +us to give to everyone his due, with more to the same effect. But he +failed to convince, and there was no curtseying. + +It was sometimes pleasant and amusing to see these two--the good old +clergyman, weak and simple-minded, and his strong antagonist, the +aggressive working man with his large frame and genial countenance and +great white flowing beard--a Walt Whitman in appearance--working +together for some good object in the village. It was even more amusing, +but touching as well, to witness an unexpected meeting between the two +wives, perhaps at the door of some poor cottage, to which both had gone +on the same beautiful errand of love and compassion to some stricken +soul, and exchanging only a short "Good-day," the democrat's wife +stiffening her knee-joints so as to look straighter and taller than +usual. + + + + +XVI + + +LITTLE GIRLS I HAVE MET + + +Perhaps some reader who does not know a little girl her psychology, +after that account of the Alvediston maidie who presented me with a +flower with an arch expression on her face just bordering on a mocking +smile, will say, "What a sophisticated child to be sure!" He would be +quite wrong unless we can say that the female child is born +sophisticated, which sounds rather like a contradiction in terms. That +appearance of sophistication, common in little girls even in a remote +rustic village hidden away among the Wiltshire downs, is implicit in, +and a quality of the child's mind--the _female_ child, it will be +understood--and is the first sign of the flirting instinct which shows +itself as early as the maternal one. This, we know, appears as soon as +a child is able to stand on its feet, perhaps even before it quits the +cradle. It seeks to gratify itself by mothering something, even an +inanimate something, so that it is as common to put a doll in a baby- +child's hands as it is to put a polished cylindrical bit of ivory--I +forget the name of it--in its mouth. The child grows up nursing this +image of itself, whether with or without a wax face, blue eyes and tow- +coloured hair, and if or when the unreality of the doll begins to spoil +its pleasure, it will start mothering something with life in it--a +kitten for preference, and if no kitten, or puppy or other such +creature easy to be handled or cuddled, is at hand, it will take kindly +to any mild-mannered old gentleman of its circle. + +It is just these first instinctive impulses of the girl-child, combined +with her imitativeness and wonderful precocity, which make her so +fascinating. But do they think? They do, but this first early thinking +does not make them self-conscious as does their later thinking, to the +spoiling of their charm. The thinking indeed begins remarkably early. I +remember one child, a little five-year-old and one of my favourites, +climbing to my knee one day and exhibiting a strangely grave face. +"Doris, what makes you look so serious?" I asked. And after a few +moments of silence, during which she appeared to be thinking hard, she +startled me by asking me what was the use of living, and other +questions which it almost frightened me to hear from those childish +innocent lips. Yet I have seen this child grow up to womanhood--a quite +commonplace conventional woman, who when she has a child of her own of +five would be unspeakably shocked to hear from it the very things she +herself spoke at that tender age. And if I were to repeat to her now +the words she spoke (the very thought of Byron in his know-that- +whatever-thou-hast-been-'Twere-something-better-not-to-be poem) she +would not believe it. + +It is, however, rare for the child mind in its first essays at +reflection to take so far a flight. It begins as a rule like the +fledgling by climbing with difficulty out of the nest and on to the +nearest branches. + +It is interesting to observe these first movements. Quite recently I +met with a child of about the same age as the one just described, who +exhibited herself to me in the very act of trying to climb out of the +nest--trying to grasp something with her claws, so to speak, and pull +herself up. She was and is a very beautiful child, full of life and fun +and laughter, and came out to me when I was sitting on the lawn to ask +me for a story. + +"Very well," I said. "But you must wait for half an hour until I +remember all about it before I begin. It is a long story about things +that happened a long time ago." + +She waited as patiently as she could for about three minutes, and then +said: "What do you mean by a long time ago?" + +I explained, but could see that I had not made her understand, and at +last put it in days, then weeks, then seasons, then years, until she +appeared to grasp the meaning of a year, and then finished by saying a +long time ago in this case meant a hundred years. + +Again she was at a loss, but still trying to understand she asked me: +"What is a hundred years?" + +"Why, it's a hundred years," I replied. "Can you count to a hundred?" + +"I'll try," she said, and began to count and got to nineteen, then +stopped. I prompted her, and she went on to twenty-nine, and so on, +hesitating after each nine, until she reached fifty. "That's enough," I +said, "it's too hard to go the whole way; but now don't you begin to +understand what a hundred years means?" + +She looked at me and then away, and her beautiful blue intelligent eyes +told me plainly that she did not, and that she felt baffled and +worried. + +After an interval she pointed to the hedge. "Look at the leaves," she +said. "I could go and count a hundred leaves, couldn't I? Well, would +that be a hundred years?" + +And no further could we get, since I could not make out just what the +question meant. At first it looked as if she thought of the leaves as +an illustration--or a symbol; and then that she had failed to grasp the +idea of time, or that it had slipped from her, and she had fallen back, +as it were, to the notion that a hundred meant a hundred objects, which +you could see and feel. There appeared to be no way out of the puzzle- +dom into which we had both got, so that it came as a relief to both of +us when she heard her mother calling--calling her back into a world she +could understand. + +I believe that when we penetrate to the real mind of girl children we +find a strong likeness in them even when they appear to differ as +widely from one another as adults do. The difference in the little ones +is less in disposition and character than in unlikeness due to +unconscious imitation. They take their mental colour from their +surroundings. The red men of America are the gravest people on the +globe, and their children are like them when with them; but this +unnatural gravity is on the surface and is a mask which drops or fades +off when they assemble together out of sight and hearing of their +elders. In like manner our little ones have masks to fit the character +of the homes they are bred in. + +Here I recall a little girl I once met when I was walking somewhere on +the borders of Dorset and Hampshire. It was at the close of an autumn +day, and I was on a broad road in a level stretch of country with the +low buildings of a farmhouse a quarter of a mile ahead of me, and no +other building in sight. A lonely land with but one living creature in +sight--a very small girl, slowly coming towards me, walking in the +middle of the wet road; for it had been raining a greater part of the +day. It was amazing to see that wee solitary being on the lonely road, +with the wide green and brown earth spreading away to the horizon on +either side under the wide pale sky. She was a sturdy little thing of +about five years old, in heavy clothes and cloth cap, and long knitted +muffler wrapped round her neck and crossed on her chest, then tied or +bound round her waist, thick boots and thick leggings! And she had a +round serious face, and big blue eyes with as much wonder in them at +seeing me as I suppose mine expressed at seeing her. When we were still +a little distance apart she drew away to the opposite side of the road, +thinking perhaps that so big a man would require the whole of its +twenty-five yards width for himself. But no, that was not the reason of +her action, for on gaining the other side she stopped and turned so as +to face me when I should be abreast of her, and then at the proper +moment she bent her little knees and dropped me an elaborate curtsey; +then, rising again to her natural height, she continued regarding me +with those wide-open astonished eyes! Nothing in little girls so +deliciously quaint and old-worldish had ever come in my way before; and +though it was late in the day and the road long, I could not do less +than cross over to speak to her. She belonged to a cottage I had left +some distance behind, and had been to the farm with a message and was +on her way back, she told me, speaking with slow deliberation and +profound respect, as to a being of a higher order than man. Then she +took my little gift and after making a second careful curtsey proceeded +slowly and gravely on her way. + +Undoubtedly all this unsmiling, deeply respectful manner was a mask, or +we may go so far as to call it second nature, and was the result of +living in a cottage in an agricultural district with adults or old +people:--probably her grandmother was the poor little darling's model, +and any big important-looking man she met was the lord of the manor! + +What an amazing difference outwardly between the rustic and the city +child of a society woman, accustomed to be addressed and joked with and +caressed by scores of persons every day--her own people, friends, +visitors, strangers! Such a child I met last summer at a west-end shop +or emporium where women congregate in a colossal tea-room under a glass +dome, with glass doors opening upon an acre of flat roof. + +There, one afternoon, after drinking my tea I walked away to a good +distance on the roof and sat down to smoke a cigarette, and presently +saw a charming-looking child come dancing out from among the tea- +drinkers. Round and round she whirled, heedless of the presence of all +those people, happy and free and wild as a lamb running a race with +itself on some green flowery down under the wide sky. And by-and-by she +came near and was pirouetting round my chair, when I spoke to her, and +congratulated her on having had a nice holiday at the seaside. One knew +it from her bare brown legs. Oh yes, she said, it was a nice holiday at +Bognor, and she had enjoyed it very much. + +"Particularly the paddling," I remarked. + +No, there was no paddling--her mother wouldn't let her paddle. + +"What a cruel mother!" I said, and she laughed merrily, and we talked a +little longer, and then seeing her about to go, I said, "you must be +just seven years old." + +"No, only five," she replied. + +"Then," said I, "you must be a wonderfully clever child." + +"Oh yes, I know I'm clever," she returned quite naturally, and away she +went, spinning over the wide space, and was presently lost in the +crowd. + +A few minutes later a pleasant-looking but dignified lady came out from +among the tea-drinkers and bore down directly on me. "I hear," she +said, "you've been talking to my little girl, and I want you to know I +was very sorry I couldn't let her paddle. She was just recovering from +whooping-cough when I took her to the seaside, and I was afraid to let +her go in the water." + +I commended her for her prudence, and apologised for having called her +cruel, and after a few remarks about her charming child, she went her +way. + +And now I have no sooner done with this little girl than another cometh +up as a flower in my memory and I find I'm compelled to break off. +There are too many for me. It is true that the child's beautiful life +is a brief one, like that of the angel-insect, and may be told in a +paragraph; yet if I were to write only as many of them as there are +"Lives" in Plutarch it would still take an entire book--an octavo of at +least three hundred pages. But though I can't write the book I shall +not leave the subject just yet, and so will make a pause here, to +continue the subject in the next sketch, then the next to follow, and +probably the next after that. + + + + +XVII + +MILLICENT AND ANOTHER + + +They were two quite small maidies, aged respectively four and six years +with some odd months in each case. They are older now and have probably +forgotten the stranger to whom they gave their fresh little hearts, who +presently left their country never to return; for all this happened a +long time ago--I think about three years. In a way they were rivals, +yet had never seen one another, perhaps never will, since they inhabit +two villages more than a dozen miles apart in a wild, desolate, hilly +district of West Cornwall. + +Let me first speak of Millicent, the elder. I knew Millicent well, +having at various times spent several weeks with her in her parents' +house, and she, an only child, was naturally regarded as the most +important person in it. In Cornwall it is always so. Tall for her +years, straight and slim, with no red colour on her cheeks; she had +brown hair and large serious grey eyes; those eyes and her general air +of gravity, and her forehead, which was too broad for perfect beauty, +made me a little shy of her and we were not too intimate. And, indeed, +that feeling on my part, which made me a little careful and ceremonious +in our intercourse, seemed to be only what she expected of me. One day +in a forgetful or expansive moment I happened to call her "Millie," +which caused her to look to me in surprise. "Don't you like me to call +you Millie--for short?" I questioned apologetically. "No," she returned +gravely; "it is not my name--my name is Millicent." And so it had to be +to the end of the chapter. + +Then there was her speech--I wondered how she got it! For it was unlike +that of the people she lived among of her own class. No word-clipping +and slurring, no "naughty English" as old Nordin called it, and sing- +song intonation with her! She spoke with an almost startling +distinctness, giving every syllable its proper value, and her words +were as if they had been read out of a nicely written book. + +Nevertheless, we got on fairly well together, meeting on most days at +tea-time in the kitchen, when we would have nice sober little talks and +look at her lessons and books and pictures, sometimes unbending so far +as to draw pigs on her slate with our eyes shut, and laughing at the +result just like ordinary persons. + +It was during my last visit, after an absence of some months from that +part of the country, that one evening on coming in I was told by her +mother that Millicent had gone for the milk, and that I would have to +wait for my tea till she came back. Now the farm that supplied the milk +was away at the other end of the village, quite half a mile, and I went +to meet her, but did not see her until I had walked the whole distance, +when just as I arrived at the gate she came out of the farm-house +burdened with a basket of things in one hand and a can of milk in the +other. She graciously allowed me to relieve her of both, and taking +basket and can with one hand I gave her the other, and so, hand in +hand, very friendly, we set off down the long, bleak, windy road just +when it was growing dark. + +"I'm afraid you are rather thinly clad for this bleak December +evening," I remarked. "Your little hand feels cold as ice." + +She smiled sweetly and said she was not feeling cold, after which there +was a long interval of silence. From time to time we met a villager, a +fisherman in his ponderous sea-boots, or a farm-labourer homeward +plodding his weary way. But though heavy-footed after his day's labour +he is never so stolid as an English ploughman is apt to be; invariably +when giving us a good-night in passing the man would smile and look at +Millicent very directly with a meaning twinkle in his Cornish eye. He +might have been congratulating her on having a male companion to pay +her all these nice little attentions, and perhaps signalling the hope +that something would come of it. + +Grave little Millicent, I was pleased to observe, took no notice of +this Cornubian foolishness. At length when we had walked half the +distance home, in perfect silence, she said impressively: "Mr. Hudson, +I have something I want to tell you very much." + +I begged her to speak, pressing her cold little hand. + +She proceeded: "I shall never forget that morning when you went away +the last time. You said you were going to Truro; but I'm not sure-- +perhaps it was to London. I only know that it was very far away, and +you were going for a very long time. It was early in the morning, and I +was in bed. You know how late I always am. I heard you calling to me to +come down and say good-bye; so I jumped up and came down in my +nightdress and saw you standing waiting for me at the foot of the +stairs. Then, when I got down, you took me up in your arms and kissed +me. I shall never forget it!" + +"Why?" I said, rather lamely, just because it was necessary to say +something. And after a little pause, she returned, "Because I shall +never forget it." + +Then, as I said nothing, she resumed: "That day after school I saw +Uncle Charlie and told him, and he said: 'What! you allowed that tramp +to kiss you! then I don't want to take you on my knee any more--you've +lowered yourself too much." + +"Did he dare to say that?" I returned. + +"Yes, that's what Uncle Charlie said, but it makes no difference. I +told him you were not a tramp, Mr. Hudson, and he said you could call +yourself Mister-what-you-liked but you were a tramp all the same, +nothing but a common tramp, and that I ought to be ashamed of myself. +'You've disgraced the family,' that's what he said, but I don't care--I +shall never forget it, the morning you went away and took me up in your +arms and kissed me." + +Here was a revelation! It saddened me, and I made no reply although I +think she expected one. And so after a minute or two of uncomfortable +silence she repeated that she would never forget it. For all the time I +was thinking of another and sweeter one who was also a person of +importance in her own home and village over a dozen miles away. + +In thoughtful silence we finished our talk; then there were lights and +tea and general conversation; and if Millicent had intended returning +to the subject she found no opportunity then or afterwards. + +It was better so, seeing that the other character possessed my whole +heart. _She_ was not intellectual; no one would have said of her, +for example, that she would one day blossom into a second Emily Bronte; +that to future generations her wild moorland village would be the +Haworth of the West. She was perhaps something better--a child of earth +and sun, exquisite, with her flossy hair a shining chestnut gold, her +eyes like the bugloss, her whole face like a flower or rather like a +ripe peach in bloom and colour; we are apt to associate these delicious +little beings with flavours as well as fragrances. But I am not going +to be so foolish as to attempt to describe her. + +Our first meeting was at the village spring, where the women came with +pails and pitchers for water; she came, and sitting on the stone rim of +the basin into which the water gushed, regarded me smilingly, with +questioning eyes. I started a conversation, but though smiling she was +shy. Luckily I had my luncheon, which consisted of fruit, in my +satchel, and telling her about it she grew interested and confessed to +me that of all good things fruit was what she loved best. I then opened +my stores, and selecting the brightest yellow and richest purple +fruits, told her that they were for her--on one condition--that she +would love me and give me a kiss. And she consented and came to me. O +that kiss! And what more can I find to say of it? Why nothing, unless +one of the poets, Crawshaw for preference, can tell me. "My song," I +might say with that mystic, after an angel had kissed him in the +morning, + + Tasted of that breakfast all day long. + +From that time we got on swimmingly, and were much in company, for +soon, just to be near her, I went to stay at her village. I then made +the discovery that Mab, for that is what they called her, although so +unlike, so much softer and sweeter than Millicent, was yet like her in +being a child of character and of an indomitable will. She never cried, +never argued, or listened to arguments, never demonstrated after the +fashion of wilful children generally, by throwing herself down +screaming and kicking; she simply very gently insisted on having her +own way and living her own life. In the end she always got it, and the +beautiful thing was that she never wanted to be naughty or do anything +really wrong! She took a quite wonderful interest in the life of the +little community, and would always be where others were, especially +when any gathering took place. Thus, long before I knew her at the age +of four, she made the discovery that the village children, or most of +them, passed much of their time in school, and to school she +accordingly resolved to go. Her parents opposed, and talked seriously +to her and used force to restrain her, but she overcame them in the +end, and to the school they had to take her, where she was refused +admission on account of her tender years. But she had resolved to go, +and go she would; she laid siege to the schoolmistress, to the vicar, +who told me how day after day she would come to the door of the +vicarage, and the parlour-maid would come rushing into his study to +announce, "Miss Mab to speak to you Sir," and how he would talk +seriously to her, and then tell her to run home to her mother and be a +good child. But it was all in vain, and in the end, because of her +importunity or sweetness, he had to admit her. + +When I went, during school hours, to give a talk to the children, there +I found Mab, one of the forty, sitting with her book, which told her +nothing, in her little hands. She listened to the talk with an +appearance of interest, although understanding nothing, her bugloss +eyes on me, encouraging me with a very sweet smile, whenever I looked +her way. + +It was the same about attending church. Her parents went to one service +on Sundays; she insisted on going to all three, and would sit and stand +and kneel, book in hand, as if taking a part in it all, but always when +you looked at her, her eyes would meet yours and the sweet smile would +come to her lips. + +I had been told by her mother that Mab would not have dolls and toys, +and this fact, recalled at an opportune moment, revealed to me her +secret mind--her baby philosophy. We, the inhabitants of the village, +grown-ups and children as well as the domestic animals, were her +playmates and playthings, so that she was independent of sham blue-eyed +babies made of sawdust and cotton and inanimate fluffy Teddy-bears; she +was in possession of the real thing! The cottages, streets, the church +and school, the fields and rocks and hills and sea and sky were all +contained in her nursery or playground; and we, her fellow-beings, were +all occupied from morn to night in an endless complicated game, which +varied from day to day according to the weather and time of year, and +had many beautiful surprises. She didn't understand it all, but was +determined to be in it and get all the fun she could out of it. This +mental attitude came out strikingly one day when we had a funeral-- +always a feast to the villagers; that is to say, an emotional feast; +and on this occasion the circumstances made the ceremony a peculiarly +impressive one. + +A young man, well known and generally liked, son of a small farmer, +died with tragic suddenness, and the little stone farm-house being +situated away on the borders of the parish, the funeral procession had +a considerable distance to walk to the village. To the church I went to +view its approach; built on a rock, the church stands high in the +centre of the village, and from the broad stone steps in front one got +a fine view of the inland country and of the procession like an immense +black serpent winding along over green fields and stiles, now +disappearing in some hollow ground or behind grey masses of rock, then +emerging on the sight, and the voices of the singers bursting out loud +and clear in that still atmosphere. + +When I arrived on the steps Mab was already there; the whole village +would be at that spot presently, but she was first. On that morning no +sooner had she heard that the funeral was going to take place than she +gave herself a holiday from school and made her docile mother dress her +in her daintiest clothes. She welcomed me with a glad face and put her +wee hand in mine; then the villagers--all those not in the procession-- +began to arrive, and very soon we were in the middle of a throng; then, +as the six coffin-bearers came slowly toiling up the many steps, and +the singing all at once grew loud and swept as a big wave of sound over +us, the people were shaken with emotion, and all the faces, even of the +oldest men, were wet with tears--all except ours, Mab's and mine. + +Our tearless condition--our ability to keep dry when it was raining, so +to say--resulted from quite different causes. Mine just then were the +eyes of a naturalist curiously observing the demeanour of the beings +around me. To Mab the whole spectacle was an act, an interlude, or +scene in that wonderful endless play which was a perpetual delight to +witness and in which she too was taking a part. And to see all her +friends, her grown-up playmates, enjoying themselves in this unusual +way, marching in a procession to the church, dressed in black, singing +hymns with tears in their eyes--why, this was even better than school +or Sunday service, romps in the playground or a children's tea. Every +time I looked down at my little mate she lifted a rosy face to mine +with her sweetest smile and bugloss eyes aglow with ineffable +happiness. And now that we are far apart my loveliest memory of her is +as she appeared then. I would not spoil that lovely image by going back +to look at her again. Three years! It was said of Lewis Carroll that he +ceased to care anything about his little Alices when they had come to +the age of ten. Seven is my limit: they are perfect then: but in Mab's +case the peculiar exquisite charm could hardly have lasted beyond the +age of six. + + + + +XVIII + +FRECKLES + + +My meeting with Freckles only served to confirm me in the belief, +almost amounting to a conviction, that the female of our species +reaches its full mental development at an extraordinarily early age +compared to that of the male. In the male the receptive and elastic or +progressive period varies greatly; but judging from the number of cases +one meets with of men who have continued gaining in intellectual power +to the end of their lives, in spite of physical decay, it is reasonable +to conclude that the stationary individuals are only so because of the +condition of their lives having been inimical. In fact, stagnation +strikes us as an unnatural condition of mind. The man who dies at fifty +or sixty or seventy, after progressing all his life, doubtless would, +if he had lived a lustrum or a decade longer, have attained to a still +greater height. "How disgusting it is," cried Ruskin, when he had +reached his threescore years and ten, "to find that just when one's +getting interested in life one has got to die!" Many can say as much; +all could say it, had not the mental machinery been disorganised by +some accident, or become rusted from neglect and carelessness. He who +is no more in mind at sixty than at thirty is but a half-grown man: his +is a case of arrested development. + +It is hardly necessary to remark here that the mere accumulation of +knowledge is not the same thing as power of mind and its increase: the +man who astonishes you with the amount of knowledge stored in his brain +may be no greater in mind at seventy than at twenty. + +Comparing the sexes again, we might say that the female mind reaches +perfection in childhood, long before the physical change from a +generalised to a specialised form; whereas the male retains a +generalised form to the end of life and never ceases to advance +mentally. The reason is obvious. There is no need for continued +progression in women, and Nature, like the grand old economist she is, +or can be when she likes, matures the mind quickly in one case and +slowly in the other; so slowly that he, the young male, goes crawling +on all fours as it were, a long distance after his little flying +sister--slowly because he has very far to go and must keep on for a +very, very long time. + +I met Freckles in one of those small ancient out-of-the-world market +towns of the West of England--Somerset to be precise--which are just +like large old villages, where the turnpike road is for half a mile or +so a High Street, wide at one point, where the market is held. For a +short distance there are shops on either side, succeeded by quiet +dignified houses set back among trees, then by thatched cottages, after +which succeed fields and woods. + +I had lunched at the large old inn at noon on a hot summer's day; when +I sat down a black cloud was coming up, and by-and-by there was +thunder, and when I went to the door it was raining heavily. I leant +against the frame of the door, sheltered from the wet by a small tiled +portico over my head, to wait for the storm to pass before getting on +my bicycle. Then the innkeeper's child, aged five, came out and placed +herself against the door-frame on the other side. We regarded one +another with a good deal of curiosity, for she was a queer-looking +little thing. Her head, big for her size and years, was as perfectly +round as a Dutch cheese, and her face so thickly freckled that it was +all freckles; she had confluent freckles, and as the spots and blotches +were of different shades, one could see that they overlapped like the +scales of a fish. Her head was bound tightly round with a piece of +white calico, and no hair appeared under it. + +Just to open the conversation, I remarked that she was a little girl +rich in freckles. + +"Yes, I know," she returned, "there's no one in the town with such a +freckled face." + +"And that isn't all," I went on. "Why is your head in a night-cap or a +white cloth as if you wanted to hide your hair? or haven't you got +any?" + +"I can tell you about that," she returned, not in the least resenting +my personal remarks. "It is because I've had ringworms. My head is +shaved and I'm not allowed to go to school." + +"Well," I said, "all these unpleasant experiences--ringworm, shaved +head, freckles, and expulsion from school as an undesirable person--do +not appear to have depressed you much. You appear quite happy." + +She laughed good-humouredly, then looked up out of her blue eyes as if +asking what more I had to say. + +Just then a small girl about thirteen years old passed us--a child with +a thin anxious face burnt by the sun to a dark brown, and deep-set, +dark blue, penetrating eyes. It was a face to startle one; and as she +went by she stared intently at the little freckled girl. + +Then I, to keep the talk going, said I could guess the sort of life +that child led. + +"What sort of life does she lead?" asked Freckles. + +She was, I said, a child from some small farm in the neighbourhood, and +had a very hard life, and was obliged to do a great deal more work +indoors and out than was quite good for her at her tender age. "But I +wonder why she stared at you?" I concluded. + +"Did she stare at me!--Why did she stare?" + +"I suppose it was because she saw you, a mite of a child, with a +nightcap on her head, standing here at the door of the inn talking to a +stranger just like some old woman." + +She laughed again, and said it was funny for a child of five to be +called an old woman. Then, with a sudden change to gravity, she assured +me that I had been quite right in what I had said about that little +girl. She lived with her parents on a small farm, where no maid was +kept, and the little girl did as much work or more than any maid. She +had to take the cows to pasture and bring them back; she worked in the +fields and helped in the cooking and washing, and came every day to the +town with a basket of butter, and eggs, which she had to deliver at a +number of houses. Sometimes she came twice in a day, usually in a pony- +cart, but when the pony was wanted by her father she had to come on +foot with the basket, and the farm was three miles out. On Sunday she +didn't come, but had a good deal to do at home. + +"Ah, poor little slave! No wonder she gazed at you as she did;--she was +thinking how sweet your life must be with people to love and care for +you and no hard work to do." + +"And was that what made her stare at me, and not because I had a +nightcap on and was like an old woman talking to a stranger?" This +without a smile. + +"No doubt. But you seem to know a great deal about her. Now I wonder if +you can tell me something about this beautiful young lady with an +umbrella coming towards us? I should much like to know who she is--and +I should like to call on her." + +"Yes, I can tell you all about her. She is Miss Eva Langton, and lives +at the White House. You follow the street till you get out of the town +where there is a pond at this end of the common, and just a little the +other side of the pond there are big trees, and behind the trees a +white gate. That's the gate of the White House, only you can't see it +because the trees are in the way. Are you going to call on her?" + +I explained that I did not know her, and though I wished I did because +she was so pretty, it would not perhaps be quite right to go to her +house to see her. + +"I'm sorry you're not going to call, she's such a nice young lady. +Everybody likes her." And then, after a few moments, she looked up with +a smile, and said, "Is there anything else I can tell you about the +people of the town? There's a man going by in the rain with a lot of +planks on his head--would you like to know who he is and all about +him?" + +"Oh yes, certainly," I replied. "But of course I don't care so much +about him as I do about that little brown girl from the farm, and the +nice Miss Langton from the White House. But it's really very pleasant +to listen to you whatever you talk about. I really think you one of the +most charming little girls I have ever met, and I wonder what you will +be like in another five years. I think I must come and see for myself." + +"Oh, will you come back in five years? Just to see me! My hair will be +grown then and I won't have a nightcap on, and I'll try to wash off the +freckles before you come." + +"No, don't," I said. "I had forgotten all about them--I think they are +very nice." + +She laughed, then looking up a little archly, said: "You are saying all +that just for fun, are you not?" + +"Oh no, nothing of the sort. Just look at me, and say if you do not +believe what I tell you." + +"Yes, I do," she answered frankly enough, looking full in my eyes with +a great seriousness in her own. + +That sudden seriousness and steady gaze; that simple, frank +declaration! Would five years leave her in that stage? I fancy not, for +at ten she would be self-conscious, and the loss would be greater than +the gain. No, I would not come back in five years to see what she was +like. + +That was the end of our talk. She looked towards the wet street and her +face changed, and with a glad cry she darted out. The rain was over, +and a big man in a grey tweed coat was coming across the road to our +side. She met him half-way, and bending down he picked her up and set +her on his shoulder and marched with her into the house. + +There were others, it seemed, who were able to appreciate her bright +mind and could forget all about her freckles and her nightcap. + + + + +XIX + +ON CROMER BEACH + + +It is true that when little girls become self-conscious they lose their +charm, or the best part of it; they are at their best as a rule from +five to seven, after which begins a slow, almost imperceptible decline +(or evolution, if you like) until the change is complete. The charm in +decline was not good enough for Lewis Carroll; the successive little +favourites, we learn, were always dropped at about ten. That was the +limit. Perhaps he perceived, with a rare kind of spiritual sagacity +resembling that of certain animals with regard to approaching weather- +changes, that something had come into their heart, or would shortly +come, which would make them no longer precious to him. But that which +had made them precious was not far to seek: he would find it elsewhere, +and could afford to dismiss his Alice for the time being from his heart +and life, and even from his memory, without a qualm. + +To my seven-years' rule there are, however, many exceptions--little +girls who keep the child's charm in spite of the changes which years +and a newly developing sense can bring to them. I have met with some +rare instances of the child being as much to us at ten as at five. + +One instance which I have in my mind just now is of a little girl of +nine, or perhaps nearly ten, and it seemed to me in this case that this +new sense, the very quality which is the spoiler of the child-charm, +may sometimes have the effect of enhancing it or revealing it in a new +and more beautiful aspect. + +I met her at Cromer, where she was one of a small group of five +visitors; three ladies, one old, the others middle-aged, and a middle- +aged gentleman. He and one of the two younger ladies were perhaps her +parents, and the elderly lady her grandmother. What and who these +people were I never heard, nor did I enquire; but the child attracted +me, and in a funny way we became acquainted, and though we never +exchanged more than a dozen words, I felt that we were quite intimate +and very dear friends. + +The little group of grown-ups and the child were always together on the +front, where I was accustomed to see them sitting or slowly walking up +and down, always deep in conversation and very serious, always +regarding the more or less gaudily attired females on the parade with +an expression of repulsion. They were old-fashioned in dress and +appearance, invariably in black--black silk and black broadcloth. I +concluded that they were serious people, that they had inherited and +faithfully kept a religion, or religious temper, which has long been +outlived by the world in general--a puritanism or Evangelicalism dating +back to the far days of Wilberforce and Hannah More and the ancient +Sacred order of Claphamites. + +And the child was serious with them and kept pace with them with slow +staid steps. But she was beautiful, and under the mask and mantle which +had been imposed on her had a shining child's soul. Her large eyes were +blue, the rare blue of a perfect summer's day. There was no need to ask +her where she had got that colour; undoubtedly in heaven "as she came +through." The features were perfect, and she pale, or so it had seemed +to me at first, but when viewing her more closely I saw that colour was +an important element in her loveliness--a colour so delicate that I +fell to comparing her flower-like face with this or that particular +flower. I had thought of her as a snowdrop at first, then a windflower, +the March anemone, with its touch of crimson, then various white, +ivory, and cream-coloured blossoms with a faintly-seen pink blush to +them. + +Her dress, except the stocking, was not black; it was grey or dove- +colour, and over it a cream or pale-fawn-coloured cloak with hood, +which with its lace border seemed just the right setting for the +delicate puritan face. She walked in silence while they talked and +talked, ever in grave subdued tones. Indeed it would not have been +seemly for her to open her lips in such company. I called her +Priscilla, but she was also like Milton's pensive nun, devout and pure, +only her looks were not commercing with the skies; they were generally +cast down, although it is probable that they did occasionally venture +to glance at the groups of merry pink-legged children romping with the +waves below. + +I had seen her three or four or more times on the front before we +became acquainted; and she too had noticed me, just raising her blue +eyes to mine when we passed one another, with a shy sweet look of +recognition in them--a questioning look; so that we were not exactly +strangers. Then, one morning, I sat on the front when the black-clothed +group came by, deep in serious talk as usual, the silent child with +them, and after a turn or two they sat down beside me. The tide was at +its full and children were coming down to their old joyous pastime of +paddling. They were a merry company. After watching them I glanced at +my little neighbour and caught her eyes, and she knew what the question +in my mind was--Why are not you with them? And she was pleased and +troubled at the same time, and her face was all at once in a glow of +beautiful colour; it was the colour of the almond blossom;--her sister +flower on this occasion. + +A day or two later we were more fortunate. I went before breakfast to +the beach and was surprised to find her there watching the tide coming +in; in a moment of extreme indulgence her mother, or her people, had +allowed her to run down to look at the sea for a minute by herself. She +was standing on the shingle, watching the green waves break frothily at +her feet, her pale face transfigured with a gladness which seemed +almost unearthly. Even then in that emotional moment the face kept its +tender flower-like character; I could only compare it to the sweet-pea +blossom, ivory white or delicate pink; that Psyche-like flower with +wings upraised to fly, and expression of infantile innocence and fairy- +like joy in life. + +I walked down to her and we then exchanged our few and only words. How +beautiful the sea was, and how delightful to watch the waves coming in! +I remarked. She smiled and replied that it was very, very beautiful. +Then a bigger wave came and compelled us to step hurriedly back to save +our feet from a wetting, and we laughed together. Just at that spot +there was a small rock on which I stepped and asked her to give me her +hand, so that we could stand together and let the next wave rush by +without wetting us. "Oh, do you think I may?" she said, almost +frightened at such an adventure. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she +put her hand in mine, and we stood on the little fragment of rock, and +she watched the water rush up and surround us and break on the beach +with a fearful joy. And after that wonderful experience she had to +leave me; she had only been allowed out by herself for five minutes, +she said, and so, after a grateful smile, she hurried back. + +Our next encounter was on the parade, where she appeared as usual with +her people, and nothing beyond one swift glance of recognition and +greeting could pass between us. But it was a quite wonderful glance she +gave me, it said so much:--that we had a great secret between us and +were friends and comrades for ever. It would take half a page to tell +all that was conveyed in that glance. "I'm so glad to see you," it +said, "I was beginning to fear you had gone away. And now how +unfortunate that you see me with my people and we cannot speak! They +wouldn't understand. How could they, since they don't belong to our +world and know what we know? If I were to explain that we are different +from them, that we want to play together on the beach and watch the +waves and paddle and build castles, they would say, 'Oh yes, that's all +very well, but--' I shouldn't know what they meant by that, should you? +I do hope we'll meet again some day and stand once more hand in hand on +the beach--don't you?" + +And with that she passed on and was gone, and I saw her no more. +Perhaps that glance which said so much had been observed, and she had +been hurriedly removed to some place of safety at a great distance. But +though I never saw her again, never again stood hand in hand with her +on the beach and never shall, I have her picture to keep in all its +flowery freshness and beauty, the most delicate and lovely perhaps of +all the pictures I possess of the little girls I have met. + + + + +XX + +DIMPLES + + +It is not pleasant when you have had your say, made your point to your +own satisfaction, and gone cheerfully on to some fresh subject, to be +assailed with the suspicion that your interlocutor is saying mentally: +All very well--very pretty talk, no doubt, but you haven't convinced +me, and I even doubt that you have succeeded in convincing yourself! + +For example, a reader of the foregoing notes may say: "If you really +find all this beauty and charm and fascination you tell us in some +little girls, you must love them. You can't admire and take delight in +them as you can in a piece of furniture, or tapestry, or a picture or +statue or a stone of great brilliancy and purity of colour, or in any +beautiful inanimate object, without that emotion coming in to make +itself part of and one with your admiration. You can't, simply because +a child is a human being, and we do not want to lose sight of the being +we love. So long as the love lasts, the eye would follow its steps +because--we are what we are, and a mere image in the mind doesn't +satisfy the heart. Love is never satisfied, and asks not for less and +less each day but for more--always for more. Then, too, love is +credulous; it believes and imagines all things and, like all emotions, +it pushes reason and experience aside and sticks to the belief that +these beautiful qualities cannot die and leave nothing behind: they are +not on the surface only; they have their sweet permanent roots in the +very heart and centre of being." + +That, I suppose, is the best argument on the other side, and if you +look straight at it for six seconds, you will see it dissolve like a +lump of sugar in a tumbler of water and disappear under your very eyes. +For the fact remains that when I listen to the receding footsteps of my +little charmer, the sigh that escapes me expresses something of relief +as well as regret. The signs of change have perhaps not yet appeared, +and I wish not to see them. Good-bye, little one, we part in good time, +and may we never meet again! Undoubtedly one loses something, but it +cannot balance the gain. The loss in any case was bound to come, and +had I waited for it no gain would have been possible. As it is, I am +like that man in _The Pilgrim's Progress_, by some accounted mad, +who the more he cast away the more he had. And the way of it is this; +by losing my little charmers before they cease from charming, I make +them mine for always, in a sense. They are made mine because my mind +(other minds, too) is made that way. That which I see with delight I +continue to see when it is no more there, and will go on seeing to the +end: at all events I fail to detect any sign of decay or fading in +these mind pictures. There are people with money who collect gems-- +diamonds, rubies and other precious stones--who value their treasures +as their best possessions, and take them out from time to time to +examine and gloat over them. These things are trash to me compared with +the shining, fadeless images in my mind, which are my treasures and +best possessions. But the bright and beauteous images of the little +girl charmers would not have been mine if instead of letting the +originals disappear from my ken I had kept them too long in it. All +because our minds, our memories are made like that. If we see a thing +once, or several times, we see it ever after as we first saw it; if we +go on seeing it every day or every week for years and years, we do not +register a countless series of new distinct impressions, recording all +its changes: the new impressions fall upon and obliterate the others, +and it is like a series of photographs, not arranged side by side for +future inspection, but in a pile, the top one alone remaining visible. +Looking at this insipid face you would not believe, if told, that once +upon a time it was beautiful to you and had a great charm. The early +impressions are lost, the charm forgotten. + +This reminds me of the incident I set out to narrate when I wrote +"Dimples" at the head of this note. I was standing at a busy corner in +a Kensington thoroughfare waiting for a bus, when a group of three +ladies appeared and came to a stand a yard or two from me and waited, +too, for the traffic to pass before attempting to cross to the other +side. One was elderly and feeble and was holding the arm of another of +the trio, who was young and pretty. Her age was perhaps twenty; she was +of medium height, slim, with a nice figure and nicely dressed. She was +a blonde, with light blue-grey eyes and fluffy hair of pale gold: there +was little colour in her face, but the features were perfect and the +mouth with its delicate curves quite beautiful. + +But after regarding her attentively for a minute or so, looking out +impatiently for my bus at the same time, I said mentally: "Yes, you are +certainly very pretty, perhaps beautiful, but I don't like you and I +don't want you. There's nothing in you to correspond to that nice +outside. You are an exception to the rule that the beautiful is the +good. Not that you are bad--actively, deliberately bad--you haven't the +strength to be that or anything else; you have only a little shallow +mind and a little coldish heart." + +Now I can imagine one of my lady readers crying out: "How dared you say +such monstrous things of any person after just a glance at her face?" + +Listen to me, madam, and you will agree that I was not to blame for +saying these monstrous things. All my life I've had the instinct or +habit of seeing the things I see; that is to say, seeing them not as +cloud or mist-shapes for ever floating past, nor as people in endless +procession "seen rather than distinguished," but distinctly, +separately, as individuals each with a character and soul of its very +own; and while seeing it in that way some little unnamed faculty in +some obscure corner of my brain hastily scribbles a label to stick on +to the object or person before it passes out of sight. It can't be +prevented; it goes on automatically; it isn't _me_, and I can no +more interfere or attempt in any way to restrain or regulate its action +than I can take my legs to task for running up a flight of steps +without the mind's supervision. + +But I haven't finished with the young lady yet. I had no sooner said +what I have said and was just about to turn my eyes away and forget all +about her, when, in response to some remarks of her aged companion, she +laughed, and in laughing so great a change came into her face that it +was as if she had been transformed into another being. It was like a +sudden breath of wind and a sunbeam falling on the still cold surface +of a woodland pool. The eyes, icily cold a moment before, had warm +sunlight in them, and the half-parted lips with a flash of white teeth +between them had gotten a new beauty; and most remarkable of all was a +dimple which appeared and in its swift motions seemed to have a life of +its own, flitting about the corner of the mouth, then further away to +the middle of the cheek and back again. A dimple that had a story to +tell. For dimples, too, like a delicate, mobile mouth, and even like +eyes, have a character of their own. And no sooner had I seen that +sudden change in the expression, and especially the dimple, than I knew +the face; it was a face I was familiar with and was like no other face +in the world, yet I could not say who she was nor where and when I had +known her! Then, when the smile faded and the dimple vanished, she was +a stranger again--the pretty young person with the shallow brain that I +did not like! + +Naturally my mind worried itself with this puzzle of a being with two +distinct expressions, one strange to me, the other familiar, and it +went on worrying me all that day until I could stand it no longer, and +to get rid of the matter, I set up the theory (which didn't quite +convince me) that the momentary expression I had seen was like an +expression in some one I had known in the far past. But after +dismissing the subject in that way, the subconscious mind was still no +doubt working at it, for two days later it all at once flashed into my +mind that my mysterious young lady was no other than the little Lillian +I had known so well eight years before! She was ten years old when I +first knew her, and I was quite intimately acquainted with her for a +little over a year, and greatly admired her for her beauty and charm, +especially when she smiled and that dimple flew about the corner of her +mouth like a twilight moth vaguely fluttering at the rim of a red +flower. But alas! her charm was waning: she was surrounded by relations +who adored her, and was intensely self-conscious, so that when after a +year her people moved to a new district, I was not sorry to break the +connection, and to forget all about her. + +Now that I had seen and remembered her again, it was a consolation to +think that she was already in her decline when I first knew and was +attracted by her and on that account had never wholly lost my heart to +her. How different my feelings would have been if after pronouncing +that irrevocable judgment, I had recognised one of my vanished +darlings--one, say, like that child on Cromer Beach, or of dozens of +other fairylike little ones I have known and loved, and whose images +are enduring and sacred! + + + + +XXI + +WILD FLOWERS AND LITTLE GIRLS + + +Thinking of the numerous company of little girls of infinite charm I +have met, and of their evanishment, I have a vision of myself on +horseback on the illimitable green level pampas, under the wide sunlit +cerulean sky in late September or early October, when the wild flowers +are at their best before the wilting heats of summer. + +Seeing the flowers so abundant, I dismount and lead my horse by the +bridle and walk knee-deep in the lush grass, stooping down at every +step to look closely at the shy, exquisite blooms in their dewy morning +freshness and divine colours. Flowers of an inexpressible unearthly +loveliness and unforgettable; for how forget them when their images +shine in memory in all their pristine morning brilliance! + +That is how I remember and love to remember them, in that first fresh +aspect, not as they appear later, the petals wilted or dropped, sun- +browned, ripening their seed and fruit. + +And so with the little human flowers. I love to remember and think of +them as flowers, not as ripening or ripened into young ladies, wives, +matrons, mothers of sons and daughters. + +As little girls, as human flowers, they shone and passed out of sight. +Only of one do I think differently, the most exquisite among them, the +most beautiful in body and soul, or so I imagine, perhaps because of +the manner of her vanishing even while my eyes were still on her. That +was Dolly, aged eight, and because her little life finished then she is +the one that never faded, never changed. + +Here are some lines I wrote when grief at her going was still fresh. +They were in a monthly magazine at that time years ago, and were set to +music, although not very successfully, and I wish it could be done +again. + + Should'st thou come to me again + From the sunshine and the rain, + With thy laughter sweet and free, + O how should I welcome thee! + + Like a streamlet dark and cold + Kindled into fiery gold + By a sunbeam swift that cleaves + Downward through the curtained leaves; + + So this darkened life of mine + Lit with sudden joy would shine, + And to greet thee I should start + With a great cry in my heart. + + Back to drop again, the cry + On my trembling lips would die: + Thou would'st pass to be again + With the sunshine and the rain. + + + + +XXII + +A LITTLE GIRL LOST + + +Yet once more, O ye little girls, I come to bid you a last good-bye--a +very last one this time. Not to you, living little girls, seeing that I +must always keep a fair number of you on my visiting list, but to a +fascinating theme I had to write about. For I did really and truly +think I had quite finished with it, and now all at once I find myself +compelled by a will stronger than my own to make this one further +addition. The will of a little girl who is not present and is lost to +me--a wordless message from a distance, to tell me that she is not to +be left out of this gallery. And no sooner has her message come than I +find there are several good reasons why she should be included, the +first and obvious one being that she will be a valuable acquisition, an +ornament to the said gallery. And here I will give a second reason, a +very important one (to the psychological minded at all events), but not +the most important of all, for that must be left to the last. + +In the foregoing impressions of little girls I have touched on the +question of the child's age when that "little agitation in the brain +called thought," begins. There were two remarkable cases given; one, +the child who climbed upon my knee to amaze and upset me by her +pessimistic remarks about life; the second, my little friend Nesta-- +that was her name and she is still on my visiting list--who revealed +her callow mind striving to grasp an abstract idea--the idea of time +apart from some visible or tangible object. Now these two were aged +five years; but what shall we say of the child, the little girl-child +who steps out of the cradle, so to speak, as a being breathing +thoughtful breath? + +It makes me think of the cradle as the cocoon or chrysalis in which, as +by a miracle (for here natural and supernatural seem one and the same), +the caterpillar has undergone his transformation and emerging spreads +his wings and forthwith takes his flight a full-grown butterfly with +all its senses and faculties complete. + +Walking on the sea front at Worthing one late afternoon in late +November, I sat down at one end of a seat in a shelter, the other end +being occupied by a lady in black, and between us, drawn close up to +the seat, was a perambulator in which a little girl was seated. She +looked at me, as little girls always do, with that question--What are +you? in her large grey intelligent eyes. The expression tempted me to +address her, and I said I hoped she was quite well. + +"O yes," she returned readily. "I am quite well, thank you." + +"And may I know how old you are?" + +"Yes, I am just three years old." + +I should have thought, I said, that as she looked a strong healthy +child she would have been able to walk and run about at the age of +three. + +She replied that she could walk and run as well as any child, and that +she had her pram just to sit and rest in when tired of walking. + +Then, after apologising for putting so many questions to her, I asked +her if she could tell me her name. + +"My name," she said, "is Rose Mary Catherine Maude Caversham," or some +such name. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the lady in black, opening her lips for the first time, +and speaking sharply. "You must not say all those names! It is enough +to say your name is Rose." + +The child turned and looked at her, studying her face, and then with +heightened colour and with something like indignation in her tone, she +replied: "That _is_ my name! Why should I not tell it when I am +asked?" + +The lady said nothing, and the child turned her face to me again. + +I said it was a very pretty name and I had been pleased to hear it, and +glad she told it to me without leaving anything out. + +Silence still on the part of the lady. + +"I think," I resumed, "that you are a rather wonderful child;--have +they taught you the ABC?" + +"Oh no, they don't teach me things like that--I pick all that up." + +"And one and one make two--do you pick that up as well?" + +"Yes, I pick that up as well." + +"Then," said I, recollecting Humpty Dumpty's question in arithmetic to +Alice, "how much is one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one?"-- +speaking it as it should be spoken, very rapidly. + +She looked at me quite earnestly for a moment, then said, "And can +_you_ tell me how much is two-an'-two-an'-two-an'-two-an'-two-an'- +two?"--and several more two's all in a rapid strain. + +"No," I said, "you have turned the tables on me very cleverly. But tell +me, do they teach you nothing?" + +"Oh yes, they teach me something!" Then dropping her head a little on +one side and lifting her little hands she began practising scales on +the bar of her pram. Then, looking at me with a half-smile on her lips, +she said: "That's what they teach me." + +After a little further conversation she told me she was from London, +and was down with her people for their holiday. + +I said it seemed strange to me she should be having a holiday so late +in the season. "Look," I said, "at that cold grey sea and the great +stretch of sand with only one group of two or three children left on it +with their little buckets and spades." + +"Yes," she said, in a meditative way; "it is very late." Then, after a +pause, she turned towards me with an expression in her face which said +plainly enough: I am now going to give you a little confidential +information. Her words were: "The fact is we are just waiting for the +baby." + +"Oh!" screamed the lady in black. "Why have you said such a thing! You +must not say such things!" + +And again the child turned her head and looked earnestly, inquiringly +at the lady, trying, as one could see from her face, to understand why +she was not to say such a thing. But now she was not sure of her ground +as on the other occasion of being rebuked. There was a mystery here +about the expected baby which she could not fathom. Why was it wrong +for her to mention that simple fact? That question was on her face when +she looked at her attendant, the lady in black, and as no answer was +forthcoming, either from the lady, or out of her own head, she turned +to me again, the dissatisfied expression still in her eyes; then it +passed away and she smiled. It was a beautiful smile, all the more +because it came only at rare intervals and quickly vanished, because, +as it seemed to me, she was all the time thinking too closely about +what was being said to smile easily or often. And the rarity of her +smile made her sense of humour all the more apparent. She was not like +Marjorie Fleming, that immortal little girl, who was wont to be angry +when offensively condescending grown-ups addressed her as a babe in +intellect. For Marjorie had no real sense of humour; all the humour of +her literary composition, verse and prose, was of the unconscious +variety. This child was only amused at being taken for a baby. + +Then came the parting. I said I had spent a most delightful hour with +her, and she, smiling once more put out her tiny hand, and said in the +sweetest voice: "Perhaps we shall meet again." Those last five words! +If she had been some great lady, an invalid in a bath-chair, who had +conversed for half an hour with a perfect stranger and had wished to +express the pleasure and interest she had had in the colloquy, she +could not have said more, nor less, nor said it more graciously, more +beautifully. + +But we did not meet again, for when I looked for her she was not there: +she had gone out of my life, like Priscilla, and like so many beautiful +things that vanish and return not. + +And now I return to what I said at the beginning--that there were +several reasons for including this little girl in my series of +impressions. The most important one has been left until now. I want to +meet her again, but how shall I find her in this immensity of London-- +these six millions of human souls! Let me beg of any reader who knows +Rose Mary Angela Catherine Maude Caversham--a name like that--who has +identified her from my description--that he will inform me of her +whereabouts. + + + + +XXIII + +A SPRAY OF SOUTHERNWOOD + + +To pass from little girls to little boys is to go into quite another, +an inferior, coarser world. No doubt there are wonderful little boys, +but as a rule their wonderfulness consists in a precocious intellect: +this kind doesn't appeal to me, so that if I were to say anything on +the matter, it would be a prejudiced judgment. Even the ordinary +civilised little boy, the nice little gentleman who is as much at home +in the drawing-room as at his desk in the school-room or with a bat in +the playing-field--even that harmless little person seems somehow +unnatural, or denaturalised to my primitive taste. A result, I will +have it, of improper treatment. He has been under the tap, too +thoroughly scrubbed, boiled, strained and served up with melted butter +and a sprig of parsley for ornament in a gilt-edged dish. I prefer him +raw, and would rather have the street-Arab, if in town, and the +unkempt, rough and tough cottage boy in the country. But take them +civilised or natural, those who love and observe little children no +more expect to find that peculiar exquisite charm of the girl-child +which I have endeavoured to describe in the boy, than they would expect +the music of the wood-lark and the airy fairy grace and beauty of the +grey wagtail in Philip Sparrow. And yet, incredible as it seems, that +very quality of the miraculous little girl is sometimes found in the +boy and, with it, strange to say, the boy's proper mind and spirit. The +child lover will meet with one of that kind once in ten years, or not +so often--not oftener than a collector of butterflies will meet with a +Camberwell Beauty. The miraculous little girl, we know, is not more +uncommon than the Painted Lady, or White Admiral. And I will here give +a picture of such a boy--the child associated in my mind with a spray +of southernwood. + +And after this impression, I shall try to give one or two of ordinary +little boys. These live in memory like the little girls I have written +about, not, it will be seen, because of their boy nature, seeing that +the boy has nothing miraculous, nothing to capture the mind and +register an enduring impression in it, as in the case of the girl; but +owing solely to some unusual circumstance in their lives--something +adventitious. + +It was hot and fatiguing on the Wiltshire Downs, and when I had toiled +to the highest point of a big hill where a row of noble Scotch firs +stood at the roadside, I was glad to get off my bicycle and rest in the +shade. Fifty or sixty yards from the spot where I sat on the bank on a +soft carpet of dry grass and pine-needles, there was a small, old, +thatched cottage, the only human habitation in sight except the little +village at the foot of the hill, just visible among the trees a mile +ahead. An old woman in the cottage had doubtless seen me going by, for +she now came out into the road, and, shading her eyes with her hand, +peered curiously at me. A bent and lean old woman in a dingy black +dress, her face brown and wrinkled, her hair white. With her, watching +me too, was a little mite of a boy; and after they had stood there a +while he left her and went into the cottage garden, but presently came +out into the road again and walked slowly towards me. It was strange to +see that child in such a place! He had on a scarlet shirt or blouse, +wide lace collar, and black knickerbockers and stockings; but it was +his face rather than his clothes that caused me to wonder. Rarely had I +seen a more beautiful child, such a delicate rose-coloured skin, and +fine features, eyes of such pure intense blue, and such shining golden +hair. How came this angelic little being in that poor remote cottage +with that bent and wrinkled old woman for a guardian? + +He walked past me very slowly, a sprig of southernwood in his hand; +then after going by he stopped and turned, and approaching me in a shy +manner and without saying a word offered me the little pale green +feathery spray. I took it and thanked him, and we entered into +conversation, when I discovered that his little mind was as bright and +beautiful as his little person. He loved the flowers, both garden and +wild, but above everything he loved the birds; he watched them to find +their nests; there was nothing he liked better than to look at the +little spotted eggs in the nest. He could show me a nest if I wanted to +see one, only the little bird was sitting on her eggs. He was six years +old, and that cottage was his home--he knew no other; and the old bent +woman standing there in the road was his mother. They didn't keep a +pig, but they kept a yellow cat, only he was lost now; he had gone +away, and they didn't know where to find him. He went to school now--he +walked all the way there by himself and all the way back every day. It +was very hard at first, because the other boys laughed at and plagued +him. Then they hit him, but he hit them back as hard as he could. After +that they hurt him, but they couldn't make him cry. He never cried, and +always hit them back, and now they were beginning to leave him alone. +His father was named Mr. Job, and he worked at the farm, but he +couldn't do so much work now because he was such an old man. Sometimes +when he came home in the evening he sat in his chair and groaned as if +it hurt him. And he had two sisters; one was Susan; she was married and +had three big girls; and Jane was married too, but had no children. +They lived a great way off. So did his brother. His name was Jim, and +he was a great fat man and sometimes came from London, where he lived, +to see them. He didn't know much about Jim; he was very silent, but not +with mother. Those two would shut themselves up together and talk and +talk, but no one knew what they were talking about. He would write to +mother too; but she would always hide the letters and say to father: +"It's only from Jim; he says he's very well--that's all." But they were +very long letters, so he must have said more than that. + +Thus he prattled, while I, to pay him for the southernwood, drew +figures of the birds he knew best on the leaves I tore from my note- +book and gave them to him. He thanked me very prettily and put them in +his pocket. + +"And what is your name?" I asked. + +He drew himself up before me and in a clear voice, pronouncing the +words in a slow measured manner, as if repeating a lesson, he answered: +"Edmund Jasper Donisthorpe Stanley Overington." + +The name so astonished me that I remained silent for quite two minutes +during which I repeated it to myself many times to fix it in my memory. + +"But why," said I at length, "do you call yourself Overington when your +father's name is Job?" + +"Oh, that is because I have two fathers--Mr. Job, my very old father, +and Mr. Overington, who lives away from here. He comes to see me +sometimes, and he is my father too; but I have only one mother--there +she is out again looking at us." + +I questioned him no further, and no further did I seek those mysteries +to disclose, and so we parted; but I never see a plant or sprig of +southernwood, nor inhale its cedarwood smell, which one does not know +whether to like or dislike, without recalling the memory of that +miraculous cottage child with a queer history and numerous names. + + + + +XXIV + +IN PORTCHESTER CHURCHYARD + + +To the historically and archaeologically minded the castle and walls at +Portchester are of great importance. Romans, Britons, Saxons, Normans-- +they all made use of this well-defended place for long centuries, and +it still stands, much of it well preserved, to be explored and admired +by many thousands of visitors every year. What most interested me was +the sight of two small boys playing in the churchyard. The village +church, as at Silchester, is inside the old Roman walls, in a corner, +the village itself being some distance away. After strolling round the +churchyard I sat down on a stone under the walls and began watching the +two boys--little fellows of the cottage class from the village who had +come, each with a pair of scissors, to trim the turf on two adjoining +mounds. The bigger of the two, who was about ten years old, was very +diligent and did his work neatly, trimming the grass evenly and giving +the mound a nice smooth appearance. The other boy was not so much +absorbed in his work; he kept looking up and making jeering remarks and +faces at the other, and at intervals his busy companion put down his +shears and went for him with tremendous spirit. Then a chase among and +over the graves would begin; finally, they would close, struggle, +tumble over a mound and pommel one another with all their might. The +struggle over, they would get up, shake off the dust and straws, and go +back to their work. After a few minutes the youngest boy recovered from +his punishment, and, getting tired of the monotony, would begin teasing +again, and a fresh flight and battle would ensue. + +By-and-by, after witnessing several of these fights, I went down and +sat on a mound next to theirs and entered into conversation with them. + +"Whose grave are you trimming?" I asked the elder boy. + +It was his sister's, he said, and when I asked him how long she had +been dead, he answered, "Twenty years." She had died more than ten +years before he was born. He said there had been eight of them born, +and he was the youngest of the lot; his eldest brother was married and +had children five or six years old. Only one of the eight had died-- +this sister, when she was a little girl. Her name was Mary, and one day +every week his mother sent him to trim the mound. He did not remember +when it began--he must have been very small. He had to trim the grass, +and in summer to water it so as to keep it always smooth and fresh and +green. + +Before he had finished his story the other little fellow, who was not +interested in it and was getting tired again, began in a low voice to +mock at his companion, repeating his words after him. Then my little +fellow, with a very serious, resolute air, put the scissors down, and +in a moment they were both up and away, doubling this way and that, +bounding over the mounds, like two young dogs at play, until, rolling +over together, they fought again in the grass. There I left them and +strolled away, thinking of the mother busy and cheerful in her cottage +over there in the village, but always with that image of the little +girl, dead these twenty years, in her heart. + + + + +XXV + +HOMELESS + + +One cold morning at Penzance I got into an omnibus at the station to +travel to the small town of St. Just, six or seven miles away. Just +before we started, a party of eight or ten queer-looking people came +hurriedly up and climbed to the top seats. They were men and women, +with two or three children, the women carelessly dressed, the men +chalky-faced and long-haired, in ulsters of light colours and large +patterns. When we had travelled two or three miles one of the outside +passengers climbed down and came in to escape from the cold, and edged +into a place opposite mine. He was a little boy of about seven or eight +years old, and he had a small, quaint face with a tired expression on +it, and wore a soiled scarlet Turkish fez on his head, and a big +pepper-and-salt overcoat heavily trimmed with old, ragged imitation +astrachan. He was keenly alive to the sensation his entrance created +among us when the loud buzz of conversation ceased very suddenly and +all eyes were fixed on him; but he bore it very bravely, sitting back +in his seat, rubbing his cold hands together, then burying them deep in +his pockets and fixing his eyes on the roof. Soon the talk recommenced, +and the little fellow, wishing to feel more free, took his hands out +and tried to unbutton his coat. The top button--a big horn button-- +resisted the efforts he made with his stiff little fingers, so I undid +it for him and threw the coat open, disclosing a blue jersey striped +with red, green velvet knickerbockers, and black stockings, all soiled +like the old scarlet flower-pot shaped cap. In his get-up he reminded +me of a famous music-master and composer of my acquaintance, whose +sense of harmony is very perfect with regard to sounds, but exceedingly +crude as to colours. Imagine a big, long-haired man arrayed in a +bottle-green coat, scarlet waistcoat, pink necktie, blue trousers, +white hat, purple gloves and yellow boots! If it were not for the fact +that he wears his clothes a very long time and never has them brushed +or the grease spots taken out, the effect would be almost painful. But +he selects his colours, whereas the poor little boy probably had no +choice in the matter. + +By-and-by the humorous gentlemen who sat on either side of him began to +play him little tricks, one snatching off his scarlet cap and the other +blowing on his neck. He laughed a little, just to show that he didn't +object to a bit of fun at his expense, but when the annoyance was +continued he put on a serious face, and folding up his cap thrust it +into his overcoat pocket. He was not going to be made a butt of! + +"Where is your home?" I asked him. + +"I haven't got a home," he returned. + +"What, no home? Where was your home when you had one?" + +"I never had a home," he said. "I've always been travelling; but +sometimes we stay a month in a place." Then, after an interval, he +added: "I belong to a dramatic company." + +"And do you ever go on the stage to act?" I asked. + +"Yes," he returned, with a weary little sigh. + +Then our journey came to an end, and we saw the doors and windows of +the St. Just Working Men's Institute aflame with yellow placards +announcing a series of sensational plays to be performed there. + +The queer-looking people came down and straggled off to the Institute, +paying no attention to the small boy. "Let me advise you," I said, +standing over him on the pavement, "to treat yourself to a stiff +tumbler of grog after your cold ride," and at the same time I put my +hand in my pocket. + +He didn't smile, but at once held out his open hand. I put some pence +in it, and clutching them he murmured "Thank you," and went after the +others. + + + + +XXVI + +THE STORY OF A SKULL + + +A quarter of a century ago there were still to be seen in the outer +suburbs of London many good old roomy houses, standing in their own +ample and occasionally park-like grounds, which have now ceased to +exist. They were old manor-houses, mostly of the Georgian period, some +earlier, and some, too, were fine large farmhouses which a century or +more ago had been turned into private residences of city merchants and +other persons of means. Any middle-aged Londoner can recall a house or +perhaps several houses of this description, and in one of those that +were best known to me I met with the skull, the story of which I wish +to tell. + +It was a very old-looking, long, low red-brick building, with a +verandah in front, and being well within the grounds, sheltered by old +oak, elm, ash and beech trees, could hardly be seen from the road. The +lawns and gardens were large, and behind them were two good-sized grass +fields. Within the domain one had the feeling that he was far away in +the country in one of its haunts of ancient peace, and yet all round +it, outside of its old hedges and rows of elms, the ground had been +built over, mostly with good-sized brick houses standing in their own +gardens. It was a favourite suburb with well-to-do persons in the city, +rents were high and the builders had long been coveting and trying to +get possession of all this land which was "doing no good," in a +district where haunts of ancients peace were distinctly out of place +and not wanted. But the owner (aged ninety-eight) refused to sell. + +Not only the builders, but his own sons and sons' sons had represented +to him that the rent he was getting for this property was nothing but +an old song compared to what it would bring in, if he would let it on a +long building lease. There was room there for thirty or forty good +houses with big gardens. And his answer invariably was: "It shan't be +touched! I was born in that house, and though I'm too old ever to go +and see it again, it must not be pulled down--not a brick of it, not a +tree cut, while I'm alive. When I'm gone you can do what you like, +because then I shan't know what you are doing." + +My friends and relations, who were in occupation of the house, and +loved it, hoped that he would go on living many, many years: but alas! +the visit of the feared dark angel was to them and not to the old +owner, who was perhaps "too old to die"; the dear lady of the house and +its head was taken away and the family broken up, and from that day to +this I have never ventured to revisit that sweet spot, nor sought to +know what has been done to it. + +At that time it used to be my week-end home, and on one of my early +visits I noticed the skull of an animal nailed to the wall about a yard +above the stable door. It was too high to be properly seen without +getting a ladder, and when the gardener told me that it was a bulldog's +skull, I thought no more about it. + +One day, several months later, I took a long look at it and got the +idea that it was not a bulldog's skull--that it was more like the skull +of a human being of a very low type. I then asked my hostess to let me +have it, and she said, "Yes, certainly, take it if you want it." Then +she added, "But what in the world do you want that horrid old skull +for?" I said I wanted to find out what it was, and then she told me +that it was a bulldog's skull--the gardener had told her. I replied +that I did not think so, that it looked to me more like the skull of a +cave-man who had inhabited those parts half a million years ago, +perhaps. This speech troubled her very much, for she was a religious +woman, and it pained her to hear unorthodox statements about the age of +man on the earth. She said that I could not have the skull, that it was +dreadful to her to hear me say it might be a human skull; that she +would order the gardener to take it down and bury it somewhere in the +grounds at a distance from the house. Until that was done she would not +go near the stables--it would be like a nightmare to see that dreadful +head on the wall. I said I would remove it immediately; it was mine, as +she had given it to me, and it was not a man's skull at all--I was only +joking, so that she need not have any qualms about it. + +That pacified her, and I took down the old skull, which looked more +dreadful than ever when I climbed up to it, for though the dome of it +was bleached white, the huge eye cavities and mouth were black and +filled with old black mould and dead moss. Doubtless it had been very +many years in that place, as the long nails used in fastening it there +were eaten up with rust. + +When I got back to London the box with the skull in it was put away in +my book-room, and rested there forgotten for two or three years. Then +one day I was talking on natural history subjects to my publisher, and +he told me that his son, just returned from Oxford, had developed a +keen interest in osteology and was making a collection of mammalian +skulls from the whale and elephant and hippopotamus to the harvest- +mouse and lesser shrew. This reminded me of the long-forgotten skull, +and I told him I had something to send him for his boy's collection, +but before sending it I would find out what it was. Accordingly I sent +the skull to Mr. Frank E. Beddard, the prosector of the Zoological +Society, asking him to tell me what it was. His reply was that it was +the skull of an adult gorilla--a fine large specimen. + +It was then sent on to the young collector of skulls--who will, alas! +collect no more, having now given his life to his country. It saddened +me a little to part with it, certainly not because it was a pretty +object to possess, but only because that bleached dome beneath which +brains were once housed, and those huge black cavities which were once +the windows of a strange soul, and that mouth that once had a fleshy +tongue that youled and clicked in an unknown language could not tell me +its own life-and-death history from the time of its birth in the +African forest to its final translation to a wall over a stable door in +an old house near London. + +There are now several writers on animals who are not exactly +naturalists, nor yet mere fictionists, but who, to a considerable +knowledge of animal psychology and extraordinary sympathy with all +wildness, unite an imaginative insight which reveals to them much of +the inner, the mind life of brutes. No doubt the greatest of these is +Charles Roberts, the Canadian, and I only wish it had been he who had +discovered the old gorilla skull above the stable door, and that the +incident had fired the creative brain which gave us _Red Fox_ and +many another wonderful biography. + +Now here is an odd coincidence. After writing the skull story it came +into my head to relate it to a lady I was dining with, and I also told +her of my intention of putting it in this book of Little Things. She +said it was funny that she too had a story of a skull which she had +thought of telling in her volume of Little Things; but no, she would +not venture to do so, although it was a better story than mine. + +She was good enough to let me hear it, and as it is not to appear +elsewhere I can't resist the temptation of bringing it in here. + +On her return to Europe after travelling and residing for some years in +the Far East, she established herself in Paris and proceeded to +decorate her apartment with some of the wonderful rich and rare objects +she had collected in outlandish parts. Gorgeous fabrics, embroideries, +pottery, metal and woodwork, and along with these products of an +ancient civilisation, others of rude or primitive tribes, quaint +headgear and plumes, strings and ropes of beads, worn as garments +by people who run wild in woods, with arrows, spears and other +weapons. These last were arranged in the form of a wheel over the +entrance, with the bleached and polished skull of an orang-utan in the +centre. It was a very perfect skull, with all the formidable teeth +intact and highly effective. + +She lived happily for some months in her apartment and was very popular +in Parisian society and visited by many distinguished people, who all +greatly admired her Eastern decorations, especially the skull, before +which they would stand expressing their delight with fervent +exclamations. + +One day when on a visit at a friend's house, her host brought up a +gentleman who wished to be introduced to her. He made himself extremely +agreeable, but was a little too effusive with his complimentary +speeches, telling her how delighted he was to meet her, and how much he +had been wishing for that honour. + +After hearing this two or three times she turned on him and asked him +in the directest way why he had wished to see her so very much; then, +anticipating that the answer would be that it was because of what he +had heard of her charm, her linguistic, musical and various other +accomplishments, and so on, she made ready to administer a nice little +snub, when he made this very unexpected reply: + +"O madame, how can you ask? You must know we all admire you because you +are the only person in all Paris who has the courage and originality to +decorate her _salon_ with a human skull." + + + + +XXVII + +A STORY OF A WALNUT + + +He was a small old man, curious to look at, and every day when I came +out of my cottage and passed his garden he was there, his crutches +under his arms, leaning on the gate, silently regarding me as I went +by. Not boldly; his round dark eyes were like those of some shy animal +peering inquisitively but shyly at the passer-by. His was a tumble-down +old thatched cottage, leaky and miserable to live in, with about three- +quarters of an acre of mixed garden and orchard surrounding it. The +trees were of several kinds--cherry, apple, pear, plum, and one big +walnut; and there were also shade trees, some shrubs and currant and +gooseberry bushes, mixed with vegetables, herbs, and garden flowers. +The man himself was in harmony with his disorderly but picturesque +surroundings, his clothes dirty and almost in rags; an old jersey in +place of a shirt, and over it two and sometimes three waistcoats of +different shapes and sizes, all of one indeterminate earthy colour; and +over these an ancient coat too big for the wearer. The thin hair, worn +on the shoulders, was dust-colour mixed with grey, and to crown all +there was a rusty rimless hat, shaped like an inverted flowerpot. From +beneath this strange hat the small strange face, with the round, +furtive, troubled eyes, watched me as I passed. + +The people I lodged with told me his history. He had lived there many +years, and everybody knew him, but nobody liked him,--a cunning, foxy, +grabbing old rascal; unsocial, suspicious, unutterably mean. Never in +all the years of his life in the village had he given a sixpence or a +penny to anyone; nor a cabbage, nor an apple, nor had he ever lent a +helping hand to a neighbour nor shown any neighbourly feeling. + +He had lived for himself alone; and was alone in the world, in his +miserable cottage, and no person had any pity for him in his loneliness +and suffering now when he was almost disabled by rheumatism. + +He was not a native of the village; he had come to it a young man, and +some kindly-disposed person had allowed him to build a small hut as a +shelter at the side of his hedge. Now the village was at one end of a +straggling common, and many irregular strips and patches of common-land +existed scattered about among the cottages and orchards. It was at a +hedge-side on the border of one of these isolated patches that the +young stranger, known as an inoffensive, diligent, and exceedingly +quiet young man, set up his hovel. To protect it from the cattle he +made a small ditch before it. This ditch he made very deep, and the +earth thrown out he built into a kind of rampart, and by its outer edge +he put a row of young holly plants, which a good-natured woodman made +him a present of. He was advised to plant the holly behind the ditch, +but he thought his plan the best, and to protect the young plants he +made a little fence of odd sticks and bits of old wire and hoop iron. +But the sheep would get in, so he made a new ditch; and then something +else, until in the course of years the three-quarters of an acre had +been appropriated. That was the whole history, and the pilfering had +gone no further only because someone in authority had discovered and +put a stop to it. Still, one could see that (in spite of the powers) a +strip a few inches in breadth was being added annually to the estate. + +I was so much interested in all this that from time to time I began to +pause beside his gate to converse with him. By degrees the timid, +suspicious expression wore away, and his eyes looked only wistful, and +he spoke of his aches and pains as if it did him good to tell them to +another. + +I then left the village, but visited it from time to time, usually at +intervals of some months, always to find him by his gate, on his own +property, which he won for himself in the middle of the village, and +from which he watched his neighbours moving about their cottages, going +and coming, and was not of them. Then a whole year went by, and when I +found him at the old gate in the old attitude, with the old wistful +look in the eyes, he seemed glad to see me, and we talked of many +things. We talked, that is, of the weather, with reference to the +crops, and his rheumatism. What else in the world was there to talk of? +He read no paper and heard no news and was of no politics; and if it +can be said that he had a philosophy of life it was a low-down one, +about on a level with that of a solitary old dog-badger who lives in an +earth he has excavated for himself with infinite pains in a strong +stubborn soil--his home and refuge in a hostile world. + +Finally, casting about in my mind for some new subject of conversation-- +for I was reluctant to leave him soon after so long an absence--it +occurred to me that we had not said anything about his one walnut tree. +Of all the other trees and the fruit he had gathered from them he had +already spoken. "By-the-way," I said, "did your walnut tree yield well +this year?" + +"Yes, very well," he returned; then he checked himself and said, +"Pretty well, but I did not get much for them." And after a little +hesitation he added, "That reminds me of something I had forgotten. +Something I have been keeping for you--a little present." + +He began to feel in the capacious pockets of his big outside waistcoat, +but found nothing. "I must give it up," he said; "I must have mislaid +it." + +He seemed a little relieved, and at the same time a little +disappointed; and by-and-by, on my remarking that he had not felt in +all his pockets, began searching again, and in the end produced the +lost something--a walnut! Holding it up a moment, he presented it to me +with a little forward jerk of the hand and a little inclination of the +head; and that little gesture, so unexpected in him, served to show +that he had thought a good deal about giving the walnut away, and had +looked on it as rather an important present. It was, perhaps, the only +one he had ever made in his life. While giving it to me he said very +nicely, "Pray make use of it." + +The use I have made of it is to put it carefully away among other +treasured objects, picked up at odd times in out-of-the-way places. It +may be that some minute mysterious insect or infinitesimal mite--there +is almost certain to be a special walnut mite--has found an entrance +into this prized nut and fed on its oily meat, reducing it within to a +rust-coloured powder. The grub or mite, or whatever it is, may do so at +its pleasure, and flourish and grow fat, and rear a numerous family, +and get them out if it can; but all these corroding processes and +changes going on inside the shell do not in the least diminish my nut's +intrinsic value. + + + + +XXVII + +A STORY OF A JACKDAW + + +At one end of the Wiltshire village where I was staying there was a +group of half-a-dozen cottages surrounded by gardens and shade trees, +and every time I passed this spot on my way to and from the downs on +that side, I was hailed by a loud challenging cry--a sort of "Hullo, +who goes there!" Unmistakably the voice of a jackdaw, a pet bird no +doubt, friendly and impudent as one always expects Jackie to be. And as +I always like to learn the history of every pet daw I come across, I +went down to the cottage the cry usually came from to make enquiries. +The door was opened to me by a tall, colourless, depressed-looking +woman, who said in reply to my question that she didn't own no jackdaw. +There was such a bird there, but it was her husband's and she didn't +know nothing about it. I couldn't see it because it had flown away +somewhere and wouldn't be back for a long time. I could ask her husband +about it; he was the village sweep, and also had a carpenter's shop. + +I did not venture to cross-question her; but the history of the daw +came to me soon enough--on the evening of the same day in fact. I was +staying at the inn and had already become aware that the bar-parlour +was the customary meeting-place of a majority of the men in that small +isolated centre of humanity. There was no club nor institute or +reading-room, nor squire or other predominant person to regulate things +differently. The landlord, wise in his generation, provided newspapers +liberally as well as beer, and had his reward. The people who gathered +there of an evening included two or three farmers, a couple of +professional gentlemen--not the vicar; a man of property, the postman, +the carrier, the butcher, the baker and other tradesmen, the farm and +other labourers, and last, but not least, the village sweep. A curious +democratic assembly to be met with in a rural village in a purely +agricultural district, extremely conservative in politics. + +I had already made the acquaintance of some of the people, high and +low, and on that evening, hearing much hilarious talk in the parlour, I +went in to join the company, and found fifteen or twenty persons +present. The conversation, when I found a seat, had subsided into a +quiet tone, but presently the door opened and a short, robust-looking +man with a round, florid, smiling face looked in upon us. + +"Hullo, Jimmy, what makes you so late?" said someone in the room. +"We're waiting to hear the finish of all that trouble about your bird +at home. Stolen any more of your wife's jewellery? Come in, and let's +hear all about it." + +"Oh, give him time," said another. "Can't you see his brain's busy +inventing something new to tell us!" + +"Inventing, you say!" exclaimed Jimmy, with affected anger. "There's no +need to do that! That there bird does tricks nobody would think of." + +Here the person sitting next to me, speaking low, informed me that this +was Jimmy Jacob, the sweep, that he owned a pet jackdaw, known to every +one in the village, and supposed to be the cleverest bird that ever +was. He added that Jimmy could be very amusing about his bird. + +"I'd already begun to feel curious about that bird of yours," I said, +addressing the sweep. "I'd like very much to hear his history. Did you +take him from the nest?" + +"Yes, Jim," said the man next to me. "Tell us how you came by the bird; +it's sure to be a good story." + +Jimmy, having found a seat and had a mug of beer put before him, began +by remarking that he knew someone had been interesting himself in that +bird of his. "When I went home to tea this afternoon," he continued, +"my missus, she says to me: 'There's that bird of yours again,' she +says." + +"'What bird,' says I. 'If you mean Jac,' says I, 'what's he done now?-- +out with it.' + +"'We'll talk about what he's done bimeby,' says she. 'What I mean is, a +gentleman called to ask about that bird.' + +"'Oh, did he?' says I. 'Yes,' she says. 'I told him I didn't know +nothing about it. He could go and ask you. You'd be sure to tell him a +lot.' + +"'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. + +"'He arsked me who you was, an' I said you was the sweep an' you had a +carpenter's shop near the pub, and was supposed to do carpentering.' + +"_Supposed_ to do carpentering! That's how she said it. + +"'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. + +"'He said he thought he seen you at the inn, and I said that's just +where he would see you.' + +"'Anything more between you and the gentleman?' says I, and she said: +'No, nothing more except that he said he'd look you up and arst if you +was a funny little fat man, sort of round, with a little red face.' And +I said, 'Yes, that's him.'" + +Here I thought it time to break in. "It's true," I said, "I called at +your cottage and saw your wife, but there's no truth in the account +you've given of the conversation I had with her." + +There was a general laugh. "Oh, very well," said Jimmy. "After that +I've nothing more to say about the bird or anything else." + +I replied that I was sorry, but we need not begin our acquaintance by +quarrelling--that it would be better to have a drink together. + +Jimmy smiled consent, and I called for another pint for Jimmy and a +soda for myself; then added I was so sorry he had taken it that way as +I should have liked to hear how he got his bird. + +He answered that if I put it that way he wouldn't mind telling me. And +everybody was pleased, and composed ourselves once more to listen. + +"How I got that there bird was like this," he began. "It were about +half after four in the morning, summer before last, an' I was just +having what I may call my beauty sleep, when all of a sudding there +came a most thundering rat-a-tat-tat at the door. + +"'Good Lord,' says my missus, 'whatever is that?' + +"'Sounds like a knock at the door,' says I. 'Just slip on your thingamy +an' go see.' + +"'No,' she says, 'you must go, it might be a man.' + +"'No,' I says, 'it ain't nothing of such consekince as that. It's only +an old woman come to borrow some castor oil.' + +"So she went and bimeby comes back and says: 'It's a man that's called +to see you an' it's very important.' + +"'Tell him I'm in bed,' says I, 'and can't get up till six o'clock.' + +"Well, after a lot of grumbling, she went again, then came back and +says the man won't go away till he seen me, as it's very important. +'Something about a bird,' she says. + +"'A bird!' I says, 'what d'you mean by a bird?' + +"'A rook!' she says. + +"'A rook!' says I. 'Is he a madman, or what?' + +"'He's a man at the door,' she says, 'an' he won't go away till he sees +you, so you'd better git up and see him.' + +"'All right, old woman,' I says, 'I'll git up as you say I must, and +I'll smash him. Get me something to put on,' I says. + +"'No,' she says, 'don't smash him'; and she give me something to put on, +weskit and trousers, so I put on the weskit and got one foot in a +slipper, and went out to him with the trousers in my hand. And there he +was at the door, sure enough, a tramp! + +"'Now, my man,' says I, very severe-like, 'what's this something +important you've got me out of bed at four of the morning for? Is it +the end of the world, or what?' + +"He looked at me quite calm and said it was something important but not +that--not the end of the world. 'I'm sorry to disturb you,' he says, +'but women don't understand things properly,' he says, 'an' I always +think it best to speak to a man.' + +"'That's all very well,' I says, 'but how long do you intend to keep me +here with nothing but this on?' + +"'I'm just coming to it,' he says, not a bit put out. 'It's like this,' +he says. 'I'm from the north--Newcastle way--an' on my way to +Dorchester, looking for work,' he says. + +"'Yes, I see you are!' says I, looking him up and down, fierce-like. + +"'Last evening,' he says, 'I come to a wood about a mile from this 'ere +village, and I says to myself, "I'll stay here and go on in the +morning." So I began looking about and found some fern and cut an +armful and made a bed under a oak-tree. I slep' there till about three +this morning. When I opened my eyes, what should I see but a bird +sitting on the ground close to me? I no sooner see it than I says to +myself, "That bird is as good as a breakfast," I says. So I just put +out my hand and copped it. And here it is!' And out he pulled a bird +from under his coat. + +"'That's a young jackdaw,' I says. + +"'You may call it a jackdaw if you like,' says he; 'but what I want you +to understand is that it ain't no ornary bird. It's a bird,' he says, +'that'll do you hansom and you'll be proud to have, and I've called +here to make you a present of it. All I want is a bit of bread, a pinch +of tea, and some sugar to make my breakfast in an hour's time when I +git to some cottage by the road where they got a fire lighted,' he +says. + +"When he said that, I burst out laughing, a foolish thing to do, mark +you, for when you laugh, you're done for; but I couldn't help it for +the life of me. I'd seen many tramps but never such a cool one as this. + +"I no sooner laughed than he put the bird in my hands, and I had to +take it. 'Good Lord!' says I. Then I called to the missus to fetch me +the loaf and a knife, and when I got it I cut him off half the loaf. +'Don't give him that,' she says: I'll cut him a piece.' But all I says +was, 'Go and git me the tea.' + +"'There's a very little for breakfast,' she says. But I made her fetch +the caddy, and he put out his hand and I half filled it with tea. +'Isn't that enough?' says I; 'well, then, have some more,' I says; and +he had some more. Then I made her fetch the bacon and began cutting him +rashers. 'One's enough,' says the old woman. 'No,' says I, 'let him +have a good breakfast. The bird's worth it,' says I and went on cutting +him bacon. 'Anything more?' I arst him. + +"'If you've a copper or two to spare,' he says, 'it'll be a help to me +on my way to Dorchester.' "'Certainly,' says I, and I began to feel in +my trouser pockets and found a florin. 'Here,' I says, 'it's all I +have, but you're more than welcome to it.' + +"Then my missus she giv' a sort of snort, and walked off. + +"'And now,' says I, 'per'aps you won't mind letting me go back to git +some clothes on.' + +"In one minute,' he says, and went on calmly stowing the things away, +and when he finished, he looks at me quite serious, and says, 'I'm +obliged to you,' he says, 'and I hope you haven't ketched cold standing +with your feet on them bricks and nothing much on you,' he says. 'But I +want most particular to arst you not to forget to remember about that +bird I giv' you,' he says. 'You call it a jackdaw, and I've no +particular objection to that, only don't go and run away with the idea +that it's just an or'nary jackdaw. It's a different sort, and you'll +come to know its value bime-by, and that it ain't the kind of bird you +can buy with a bit of bread and a pinch of tea,' he says. 'And there's +something else you've got to think of--that wife of yours. I've been +sort of married myself and can feel for you,' he says. 'The time will +come when that there bird's pretty little ways will amuse her, and last +of all it'll make her smile, and you'll get the benefit of that,' he +says. 'And you'll remember the bird was giv' to you by a man named +Jones--that's my name, Jones--walking from Newcastle to Dorchester, +looking for work. A poor man, you'll say, down on his luck, but not one +of the common sort, not a greedy, selfish man, but a man that's always +trying to do something to make others happy,' he says. + +"And after that, he said, 'Good-bye,' without a smile, and walked off. + +"And there at the door I stood, I don't know how long, looking after +him going down the road. Then I laughed; I don't know that I ever +laughed so much in my life, and at last I had to sit down on the bricks +to go on laughing more comfortably, until the missus came and arst me, +sarcastic-like, if I'd got the high-strikes, and if she'd better get a +bucket of water to throw over me. + +"I says, 'No, I don't want no water. Just let me have my laugh out and +then it'll be all right.' Well, I don't see nothing to laugh at,' she +says. 'And I s'pose you thought you giv' him a penny. Well, it wasn't a +penny, it was a florin,' she says. + +"'And little enough, too,' I says. 'What that man said to me, to say +nothing of the bird, was worth a sovereign. But you are a woman, and +can't understand that,' I says. 'No,' she says, 'I can't, and lucky for +you, or we'd 'a' been in the workhouse before now,' she says. + +"And that's how I got the bird." + + + + +XXIX + +A WONDERFUL STORY OF A MACKEREL + + +The angler is a mighty spinner of yarns, but no sooner does he set +about the telling than I, knowing him of old, and accounting him not an +uncommon but an unconscionable liar, begin (as Bacon hath it) "to droop +and languish." Nor does the languishing end with the story if I am +compelled to sit it out, for in that state I continue for some hours +after. But oh! the difference when someone who is not an angler relates +a fishing adventure! A plain truthful man who never dined at an +anglers' club, nor knows that he who catches, or tries to catch a fish, +must tell you something to astonish and fill you with envy and +admiration. To a person of this description I am all attention, and +however prosaic and even dull the narrative may be, it fills me with +delight, and sends me happy to bed and (still chuckling) to a +refreshing sleep. + +Accordingly, when one of the "commercials" in the coffee-room of the +Plymouth Hotel began to tell a wonderful story of a mackerel he once +caught a very long time back, I immediately put down my pen so as to +listen with all my ears. For he was about the last person one would +have thought of associating with fish-catching--an exceedingly towny- +looking person indeed, one who from his conversation appeared to know +nothing outside of his business. He was past middle age--oldish-looking +for a traveller--his iron-grey hair brushed well up to hide the +baldness on top, disclosing a pair of large ears which stood out like +handles; a hatchet face with parchment skin, antique side whiskers, and +gold-rimmed glasses on his large beaky nose. He wore the whitest linen +and blackest, glossiest broadcloth, a big black cravat, diamond stud in +his shirt-front in the old fashion, and a heavy gold chain with a spade +guinea attached. His get-up and general appearance, though ancient, or +at all events mid-Victorian, proclaimed him a person of considerable +importance in his vocation. + +He had, he told us at starting, a very good customer at Bristol, +perhaps the best he ever had, at any rate the one who had stuck longest +to him, since what he was telling us happened about the year 1870. He +went to Bristol expressly to see this man, expecting to get a good +order from him, but when he arrived and saw the wife, and asked for her +husband, she replied that he was away on his holiday with the two +little boys. It was a great disappointment, for, of course, he couldn't +get an order from her. Confound the woman! she was always against him; +what she would have liked was to have half a dozen travellers dangling +about her, so as to pit one against another and distribute the orders +among them just as flirty females distribute their smiles, instead of +putting trust in one. + +Where had her husband gone for his holiday? he asked; she said Weymouth +and then was sorry she had let it out. But she refused to give the +address. "No, no," she said; "he's gone to enjoy himself, and mustn't +be reminded of business till he gets back." + +However, he resolved to follow him to Weymouth on the chance of finding +him there, and accordingly took the next train to that place. And, he +added, it was lucky for him that he did so, for he very soon found him +with his boys on the front, and, in spite of what she said, it was not +with this man as it was with so many others who refuse to do business +when away from the shop. On the contrary, at Weymouth he secured the +best order this man had given him up to that time; and it was because +he was away from his wife, who had always contrived to be present at +their business meetings, and was very interfering, and made her husband +too cautious in buying. + +It was early in the day when this business was finished. "And now," +said the man from Bristol, who was in a sort of gay holiday mood, "what +are you going to do with yourself for the rest of the day?" + +He answered that he was going to take the next train back to London. He +had finished with Weymouth--there was no other customer there. + +Here he digressed to tell us that he was a beginner at that time at the +salary of a pound a week and fifteen shillings a day for travelling +expenses. He thought this a great thing at first; when he heard what he +was to get he walked about on air all day long, repeating to himself, +"Fifteen shillings a day for expenses!" It was incredible; he had been +poor, earning about five shillings a week, and now he had suddenly come +into this splendid fortune. It wouldn't be much for him now! He began +by spending recklessly; and in a short time discovered that the fifteen +shillings didn't go far; now he had come to his senses and had to +practise a rigid economy. Accordingly, he thought he would save the +cost of a night's lodging and go back to town. But the Bristol man was +anxious to keep him and said he had hired a man and boat to go fishing +with the boys,--why couldn't he just engage a bedroom for the night and +spend the afternoon with them? + +After some demur he consented, and took his bag to a modest Temperance +Hotel, where he secured a room, and then, protesting he had never +caught a fish or seen one caught in his life, he got into the boat, and +was taken into the bay where he was to have his first and only +experience of fishing. Perhaps it was no great thing, but it gave him +something to remember all his life. After a while his line began to +tremble and move about in an extraordinary way with sudden little tugs +which were quite startling, and on pulling it in he found he had a +mackerel on his hook. He managed to get it into the boat all right and +was delighted at his good luck, and still more at the sight of the +fish, shining like silver and showing the most beautiful colours. He +had never seen anything so beautiful in his life! Later, the same thing +happened again with the line and a second mackerel was caught, and +altogether he caught three. His friend also caught a few, and after a +most pleasant and exciting afternoon they returned to the town well +pleased with their sport. His friend wanted him to take a share of the +catch, and after a little persuasion he consented to take one, and he +selected the one he had caught first, just because it was the first +fish he had ever caught in his life, and it had looked more beautiful +than any other, so would probably taste better. + +Going back to the hotel he called the maid and told her he had brought +in a mackerel which he had caught for his tea, and ordered her to have +it prepared. He had it boiled and enjoyed it very much, but on the +following morning when the bill was brought to him he found that he had +been charged two shillings for fish. + +"Why, what does this item mean?" he exclaimed. "I've had no fish in +this hotel except a mackerel which I caught myself and brought back for +my tea, and now I'm asked to pay two shillings for it? Just take the +bill back to your mistress and tell her the fish was mine--I caught it +myself in the Bay yesterday afternoon." + +The girl took it up, and by-and-by returned and said her mistress had +consented to take threepence off the bill as he had provided the fish +himself. + +"No," he said, indignantly, "I'll have nothing off the bill, I'll pay +the full amount," and pay it he did in his anger, then went off to say +goodbye to his friend, to whom he related the case. + +His friend, being in the same hilarious humour as on the previous day, +burst out laughing and made a good deal of fun over the matter. + +That, he said, was the whole story of how he went fishing and caught a +mackerel, and what came of it. But it was not quite all, for he went on +to tell us that he still visited Bristol regularly to receive big and +ever bigger orders from that same old customer of his, whose business +had gone on increasing ever since; and invariably after finishing their +business his friend remarks in a casual sort of way: "By the way, old +man, do you remember that mackerel you caught at Weymouth which you had +for tea, and were charged two shillings for?" "Then he laughs just as +heartily as if it had only happened yesterday, and I leave him in a +good humour, and say to myself: 'Now, I'll hear no more about that +blessed mackerel till I go round to Bristol again in three months' +time.'" + +"How long ago did you say it was since you caught the mackerel?" I +inquired. + +"About forty years." + +"Then," I said, "it was a very lucky fish for you--worth more perhaps +than if a big diamond had been found in its belly. The man had got his +joke--the one joke of his life perhaps--and was determined to stick to +it, and that kept him faithful to you in spite of his wife's wish to +distribute their orders among a lot of travellers." + +He replied that I was perhaps right and that it had turned out a lucky +fish for him. But his old customer, though his business was big, was +not so important to him now when he had big customers in most of the +large towns in England, and he thought it rather ridiculous to keep up +that joke so many years. + + + + +XXX + +STRANGERS YET + + +The man who composed that familiar delightful rhyme about blue eyes and +black, and how you are to beware of the hidden knife in the one case +and of a different sort of danger which may threaten you in the other, +must have lived a good long time ago, or else be a very old man. Oh, so +old, thousands of years, thousands of years, if all were told. And he, +when he exhibited such impartiality, must have had other-coloured eyes +himself. Most probably the sheep and goat eye, one which no person in +his senses--except an anthropologist--can classify as either dark or +light. It is that marmalade yellow, excessively rare in this country, +but not very uncommon in persons of Spanish race. For who at this day, +this age, after the mixing together of the hostile races has been going +on these twenty centuries or longer, can believe that any inherited or +instinctive animosity can still survive? If we do find such a feeling +here and there, would it not be more reasonable to regard it as an +individual antipathy, or as a prejudice, imbibed early in life from +parents or others, which endures in spite of reason, long after its +origin had been forgotten? + +Nevertheless, one does meet with cases from time to time which do throw +a slight shadow of doubt on the mind, and of several I have met I will +here relate one. + +At an hotel on the South Coast I met a Miss Browne, which is not her +name, and I rather hope this sketch will not be read by anyone nearly +related to her, as they might identify her from the description. A +middle-aged lady with a brown skin, black hair and dark eyes, an oval +face, fairly good-looking, her manner lively and attractive, her +movements quick without being abrupt or jerky. She was highly +intelligent and a good talker, with more to say than most women, and +better able than most to express herself. We were at the same small +table and got on well together, as I am a good listener and she knew-- +being a woman, how should she not?--that she interested me. One day at +our table the conversation happened to be about the races of men and +the persistence of racial characteristics, physical and mental, in +persons of mixed descent. The subject interested her. "What would you +call me?" she asked. + +"An Iberian," I returned. + +She laughed and said: "This makes the third time I have been called an +Iberian, so perhaps it is true, and I'm curious to know what an Iberian +is, and why I'm called an Iberian. Is it because I have something of a +Spanish look?" + +I answered that the Iberians were the ancient Britons, a dark-eyed, +brown-skinned people who inhabited this country and all Southern Europe +before the invasion of the blue-eyed races; that doubtless there had +been an Iberian mixture in her ancestors, perhaps many centuries ago, +and that these peculiar characters had come out strongly in her; she +had the peculiar kind of blood in her veins and the peculiar sort of +soul which goes with the blood. + +"But what a mystery it is!" she exclaimed. "I am the only small one in +a family of tall sisters. My parents were both tall and light, and the +others took after them. I was small and dark, and they were tall +blondes with blue eyes and pale gold hair. And in disposition I was +unlike them as in physique. How do you account for it?" + +It was a long question, I said, and I had told her all I could about +it. I couldn't go further into it; I was too ignorant. I had just +touched on the subject in one of my books. It was in other books, with +reference to a supposed antagonism which still survives in blue-eyed +and dark-eyed people. + +She asked me to give her the titles of the books I spoke of. "You +imagine, I daresay," she said, "that it is mere idle curiosity on my +part. It isn't so. The subject has a deep and painful interest for me." + +That was all, and I had forgotten all about the conversation until some +time afterwards, when I had a letter from her recalling it. I quote one +passage without the alteration of a syllable: + +"Oh, why did I not know before, when I was young, in the days when my +beautiful blue-eyed but cruel and remorseless mother and sisters made +my life an inexplicable grief and torment! It might have lifted the +black shadows from my youth by explaining the reason of their +persecutions--it might have taken the edge from my sufferings by +showing that I was not personally to blame, also that nothing could +ever obviate it, that I but wasted my life and broke my heart in for +ever vain efforts to appease an hereditary enemy and oppressor." + +Cases of this kind cannot, however, appear conclusive. The cases in +which mother and daughters unite in persecuting a member of the family +are not uncommon. I have known several in my experience in which +respectable, well-to-do, educated, religious people have displayed a +perfectly fiendish animosity against one of the family. In all these +cases it has been mother and daughters combining against one daughter, +and so far as one can see into the matter, the cause is usually to be +traced to some strangeness or marked peculiarity, physical or mental, +in the persecuted one. The peculiarity may be a beauty of disposition, +or some virtue or rare mental quality which the others do not possess. + +It would perhaps be worth while to form a society to investigate all +these cases of persecution in families, to discover whether or not they +afford any support to the notion of an inherited antagonism of dark and +light races. The Anthropological, Eugenic and Psychical Research +Societies might consider the suggestion. + + + + +XXXI + +THE RETURN OF THE CHIFF-CHAFF + +(SPRING SADNESS) + + +On a warm, brilliant morning in late April I paid a visit to a shallow +lakelet or pond five or six acres in extent which I had discovered some +weeks before hidden in a depression in the land, among luxuriant furze, +bramble, and blackthorn bushes. Between the thickets the boggy ground +was everywhere covered with great tussocks of last year's dead and +faded marsh grass--a wet, rough, lonely place where a lover of solitude +need have no fear of being intruded on by a being of his own species, +or even a wandering moorland donkey. On arriving at the pond I was +surprised and delighted to find half the surface covered with a thick +growth of bog-bean just coming into flower. The quaint three-lobed +leaves, shaped like a grebe's foot, were still small, and the +flowerstocks, thick as corn in a field, were crowned with pyramids of +buds, cream and rosy-red like the opening dropwort clusters, and at the +lower end of the spikes were the full-blown singular, snow-white, +cottony flowers--our strange and beautiful water edelweiss. + +A group of ancient, gnarled and twisted alder bushes, with trunks like +trees, grew just on the margin of the pond, and by-and-by I found a +comfortable arm-chair on the lower stout horizontal branches +overhanging the water, and on that seat I rested for a long time, +enjoying the sight of that rare unexpected loveliness. + +The chiff-chaff, the common warbler of this moorland district, was now +abundant, more so than anywhere else in England; two or three were +flitting about among the alder leaves within a few feet of my head, and +a dozen at least were singing within hearing, chiff-chaffing near and +far, their notes sounding strangely loud at that still, sequestered +spot. Listening to that insistent sound I was reminded of Warde +Fowler's words about the sweet season which brings new life and hope to +men, and how a seal and sanction is put on it by that same small bird's +clear resonant voice. I endeavoured to recall the passage, saying to +myself that in order to enter fully into the feeling expressed it is +sometimes essential to know an author's exact words. Failing in this, I +listened again to the bird, then let my eyes rest on the expanse of red +and cream-coloured spikes before me, then on the masses of flame-yellow +furze beyond, then on something else. I was endeavouring to keep my +attention on these extraneous things, to shut my mind resolutely +against a thought, intolerably sad, which had surprised me in that +quiet solitary place. Surely, I said, this springtime verdure and +bloom, this fragrance of the furze, the infinite blue of heaven, the +bell-like double note of this my little feathered neighbour in the +alder tree, flitting hither and thither, light and airy himself as a +wind-fluttered alder leaf--surely this is enough to fill and to satisfy +any heart, leaving no room for a grief so vain and barren, which +nothing in nature suggested! That it should find me out here in this +wilderness of all places--the place to which a man might come to divest +himself of himself--that second self which he has unconsciously +acquired--to be like the trees and animals, outside of the sad +atmosphere of human life and its eternal tragedy! A vain effort and a +vain thought, since that from which I sought to escape came from nature +itself, from every visible thing; every leaf and flower and blade was +eloquent of it, and the very sunshine, that gave life and brilliance to +all things, was turned to darkness by it. + +Overcome and powerless, I continued sitting there with half-closed eyes +until those sad images of lost friends, which had risen with so strange +a suddenness in my mind, appeared something more than mere memories and +mentally-seen faces and forms, seen for a moment, then vanishing. They +were with me, standing by me, almost as in life; and I looked from one +to another, looking longest at the one who was the last to go; who was +with me but yesterday, as it seemed, and stood still in our walk and +turned to bid me listen to that same double note, that little spring +melody which had returned to us; and who led me, waist-deep in the +flowering meadow grasses to look for this same beautiful white flower +which I had found here, and called it our "English edelweiss." How +beautiful it all was! We thought and felt as one. That bond uniting us, +unlike all other bonds, was unbreakable and everlasting. If one had +said that life was uncertain it would have seemed a meaningless phrase. +Spring's immortality was in us; ever-living earth was better than any +home in the stars which eye hath not seen nor heart conceived. Nature +was all in all; we worshipped her and her wordless messages in our +hearts were sweeter than honey and the honeycomb. + +To me, alone on that April day, alone on the earth as it seemed for a +while, the sweet was indeed changed to bitter, and the loss of those +who were one with me in feeling, appeared to my mind as a monstrous +betrayal, a thing unnatural, almost incredible. Could I any longer love +and worship this dreadful power that made us and filled our hearts with +gladness--could I say of it, "Though it slay me yet will I trust it?" + +By-and-by the tempest subsided, but the clouds returned after the rain, +and I sat on in a deep melancholy, my mind in a state of suspense. Then +little by little the old influence began to re-assert itself, and it +was as if one was standing there by me, one who was always calm, who +saw all things clearly, who regarded me with compassion and had come to +reason with me. "Come now," it appeared to say, "open your eyes once +more to the sunshine; let it enter freely and fill your heart, for +there is healing in it and in all nature. It is true the power you have +worshipped and trusted will destroy you, but you are living to-day and +the day of your end will be determined by chance only. Until you are +called to follow them into that 'world of light,' or it may be of +darkness and oblivion, you are immortal. Think then of to-day, humbly +putting away the rebellion and despondency corroding your life, and it +will be with you as it has been; you shall know again the peace which +passes understanding, the old ineffable happiness in the sights and +sounds of earth. Common things shall seem rare and beautiful to you. +Listen to the chiff-chaff ingeminating the familiar unchanging call and +message of spring. Do you know that this frail feathered mite with its +short, feeble wings has come back from an immense distance, crossing +two continents, crossing mountains, deserts illimitable, and, worst of +all, the salt, grey desert of the sea. North and north-east winds and +snow and sleet assailed it when, weary with its long journey, it drew +near to its bourne, and beat it back, weak and chilled to its little +anxious heart, so that it could hardly keep itself from falling into +the cold, salt waves. Yet no sooner is it here in the ancient home and +cradle of its race, than, all perils and pains forgot, it begins to +tell aloud the overflowing joy of the resurrection, calling earth to +put on her living garment, to rejoice once more in the old undying +gladness--that small trumpet will teach you something. Let your reason +serve you as well as its lower faculties have served this brave little +traveller from a distant land." + +Is this then the best consolation my mysterious mentor can offer? How +vain, how false it is!--how little can reason help us! The small bird +exists only in the present; there is no past, nor future, nor knowledge +of death. Its every action is the result of a stimulus from outside; +its "bravery" is but that of a dead leaf or ball of thistle-down +carried away by the blast. Is there no escape, then, from this +intolerable sadness--from the thought of springs that have been, the +beautiful multitudinous life that has vanished? Our maker and mother +mocks at our efforts--at our philosophic refuges, and sweeps them away +with a wave of emotion. And yet there is deliverance, the old way of +escape which is ours, whether we want it or not. Nature herself in her +own good time heals the wound she inflicts--even this most grievous in +seeming when she takes away from us the faith and hope of reunion with +our lost. They may be in a world of light, waiting our coming--we do +not know; but in that place they are unimaginable, their state +inconceivable. They were like us, beings of flesh and blood, or we +should not have loved them. If we cannot grasp their hands their +continued existence is nothing to us. Grief at their loss is just as +great for those who have kept their faith as for those who have lost +it; and on account of its very poignancy it cannot endure in either +case. It fades, returning in its old intensity at ever longer intervals +until it ceases. The poet of nature was wrong when he said that without +his faith in the decay of his senses he would be worse than dead, +echoing the apostle who said that if we had hope in this world only we +should be of all men the most miserable. So, too, was the later poet +wrong when he listened to the waves on Dover beach bringing the eternal +notes of sadness in; when he saw in imagination the ebbing of the great +sea of faith which had made the world so beautiful, in its withdrawal +disclosing the deserts drear and naked shingles of the world. That +desolation, as he imagined it, which made him so unutterably sad, was +due to the erroneous idea that our earthly happiness comes to us from +otherwhere, some region outside our planet, just as one of our modern +philosophers has imagined that the principle of life on earth came +originally from the stars. + +The "naked shingles of the world" is but a mood of our transitional +day; the world is just as beautiful as it ever was, and our dead as +much to us as they have ever been, even when faith was at its highest. +They are not wholly, irretrievably lost, even when we cease to remember +them, when their images come no longer unbidden to our minds. They are +present in nature: through ourselves, receiving but what we give, they +have become part and parcel of it and give it an expression. As when +the rain clouds disperse and the sun shines out once more, heaven and +earth are filled with a chastened light, sweet to behold and very +wonderful, so because of our lost ones, because of the old grief at +their loss, the visible world is touched with a new light, a tenderness +and grace and beauty not its own. + + + + +XXXII + +A WASP AT TABLE + + +Even to a naturalist with a tolerant feeling for all living things, +both great and small, it is not always an unmixed pleasure to have a +wasp at table. I have occasionally felt a considerable degree of +annoyance at the presence of a self-invited guest of that kind. + +Some time ago when walking I sat down at noon on a fallen tree-trunk to +eat my luncheon, which consisted of a hunk of cake and some bananas. +The wind carried the fragrance of the fruit into the adjacent wood, and +very soon wasps began to arrive, until there were fifteen or twenty +about me. They were so aggressive and greedy, almost following every +morsel I took into my mouth, that I determined to let them have as much +as they wanted--_and something more_! I proceeded to make a mash +of the ripest portions of the fruit mixed with whisky from my pocket- +flask, and spread it nicely on the bark. At once they fell on it with +splendid appetites, but to my surprise the alcohol produced no effect. +I have seen big locusts and other important insects tumbling about and +acting generally as if demented after a few sips of rum and sugar, but +these wasps, when they had had their full of banana and whisky, buzzed +about and came and went and quarrelled with one another just as usual, +and when I parted from them there was not one of the company who could +be said to be the worse for liquor. Probably there is no more steady- +headed insect than the wasp, unless it be his noble cousin and prince, +the hornet, who has a quite humanlike unquenchable thirst for beer and +cider. + +But the particular wasp at table I had in my mind remains to be spoken +of. I was lunching at the house of a friend, the vicar of a lonely +parish in Hampshire, and besides ourselves there were five ladies, four +of them young, at our round table. The window stood open, and by-and-by +a wasp flew in and began to investigate the dishes, the plates, then +the eaters themselves, impartially buzzing before each face in turn. On +his last round, before taking his departure, he continued to buzz so +long before my face, first in front of one eye then the other, as if to +make sure that they were fellows and had the same expression, that I at +length impatiently remarked that I did not care for his too flattering +attentions. And that was really the only inconsiderate or inhospitable +word his visit had called forth. Yet there were, I have said, five +ladies present! They had neither welcomed nor repelled him, and had not +regarded him; and although it was impossible to be unconscious of his +presence at table, it was as if he had not been there. But then these +ladies were cyclists: one, in addition to the beautiful brown colour +with which the sun had painted her face, showed some dark and purple +stains on cheek and forehead--marks of a resent dangerous collision +with a stone wall at the foot of a steep hill. + +Here I had intended telling about other meetings with other wasps, but +having touched on a subject concerning which nothing is ever said and +volumes might be written--namely, the Part played by the bicycle in the +emancipation of women--I will go on with it. That they are not really +emancipated doesn't matter, since they move towards that goal, and +doubtless they would have gone on at the same old, almost imperceptible +rate for long years but for the sudden impulse imparted by the wheel. +Middle-aged people can recall how all England held up its hands and +shouted "No, no!" from shore to shore at the amazing and upsetting +spectacle of a female sitting astride on a safety machine, indecently +moving her legs up and down just like a man. But having tasted the +delights of swift easy motion, imparted not by any extraneous agency, +but--oh, sweet surprise!--by her own in-dwelling physical energy, she +refused to get off. By staying on she declared her independence; and we +who were looking on--some of us--rejoiced to see it; for did we not +also see, when these venturesome leaders returned to us from careering +unattended over the country, when easy motion had tempted them long +distances into strange, lonely places, where there was no lover nor +brother nor any chivalrous person to guard and rescue them from +innumerable perils--from water and fire, mad bulls and ferocious dogs, +and evil-minded tramps and drunken, dissolute men, and from all +venomous, stinging, creeping, nasty, horrid things--did we not see that +they were no longer the same beings we had previously known, that in +their long flights in heat and cold and rain and wind and dust they had +shaken off some ancient weakness that was theirs, that without loss of +femininity they had become more like ourselves in the sense that they +were more self-centred and less irrational? + +But women, alas! can seldom follow up a victory. They are, as even the +poet when most anxious to make the best of them mournfully confesses: + + variable as the shade + By the light quivering aspen made. + +Inconstant in everything, they soon cast aside the toy which had taught +them so great a lesson and served them so well, carrying them so far in +the direction they wished to go. And no sooner had they cast it aside +than a fresh toy, another piece of mechanism, came on the scene to +captivate their hearts, and instead of a help, to form a hindrance. The +motor not only carried them back over all the ground they had covered +on the bicycle, but further still, almost back to the times of chairs +and fans and smelling-salts and sprained ankles at Lyme Regis. A +painful sight was the fair lady not yet forty and already fat, +overclothed and muffled up in heavy fabrics and furs, a Pekinese +clasped in her arms, reclining in her magnificent forty-horse-power car +with a man (_Homo sapiens_) in livery to drive her from shop to +shop and house to house. One could shut one's eyes until it passed-- +shut them a hundred or five hundred times a day in every thoroughfare +in every town in England; but alas! one couldn't shut out the fact that +this spectacle had fascinated and made captive the soul of womankind, +that it was now their hope, their dream, their beautiful ideal--the one +universal ideal that made all women sisters, from the greatest ladies +in the land downwards, and still down, from class to class, even to the +semi-starved ragged little pariah girl scrubbing the front steps of a +house in Mean Street for a penny. + +The splendid spectacle has now been removed from their sight, but is it +out of mind? Are they not waiting and praying for the war to end so +that there may be petrol to buy and men returned from the front to cast +off their bloodstained clothes and wash and bleach their blackened +faces, to put themselves in a pretty livery and drive the ladies and +their Pekinese once more? + +A friend of mine once wrote a charming booklet entitled _Wheel +Magic_, which was all about his rambles on the machine and its +effect on him. He is not an athlete--on the contrary he is a bookish +man who has written books enough to fill a cart, and has had so much to +do with books all his life that one might imagine he had by some +strange accident been born in the reading-room of the British Museum; +or that originally he had actually been a bookworm, a sort of mite, +spontaneously engendered between the pages of a book, and that the +supernatural being who presides over the reading-room had, as a little +pleasantry, transformed him into a man so as to enable him to read the +books on which he had previously nourished himself. + +I can't follow my friend's wanderings and adventures as, springing out +of his world of books, he flits and glides like a vagrant, swift- +winged, irresponsible butterfly about the land, sipping the nectar from +a thousand flowers and doing his hundred miles in a day and feeling all +the better for it, for this was a man's book, and the wheel and its +magic was never a necessity in man's life. But it has a magic of +another kind for woman, and I wish that some woman of genius would +arise and, inspired perhaps by the ghost of Benjamin Ward Richardson in +his prophetic mood, tell of this magic to her sisters. Tell them, if +they are above labour in the fields or at the wash-tub, that the wheel, +without fatiguing, will give them the deep breath which will purify the +blood, invigorate the heart, stiffen the backbone, harden the muscles; +that the mind will follow and accommodate itself to these physical +changes; finally, that the wheel will be of more account to them than +all the platforms in the land, and clubs of all the pioneers and +colleges, all congresses, titles, honours, votes, and all the books +that have been or ever will be written. + + + + +XXXIII + +WASPS AND MEN + + +I now find that I must go back to the subject of my last paper on the +wasp in order to define my precise attitude towards that insect. Then, +too, there was another wasp at table, not in itself a remarkably +interesting incident, but I am anxious to relate it for the following +reason. + +If there is one sweetest thought, one most cherished memory in a man's +mind, especially if he be a person of gentle pacific disposition, whose +chief desire is to live in peace and amity with all men, it is the +thought and recollection of a good fight in which he succeeded in +demolishing his adversary. If his fights have been rare adventures and +in most cases have gone against him, so much the more will he rejoice +in that one victory. + +It chanced that a wasp flew into the breakfast room of a country house +in which I was a guest, when we were all--about fourteen in number, +mostly ladies, young and middle-aged--seated at the table. The wasp +went his rounds in the usual way, dropping into this or that plate or +dish, feeling foods with his antennae or tasting with his tongue, but +staying nowhere, and as he moved so did the ladies, starting back with +little screams and exclamations of disgust and apprehension. For these +ladies, it hardly need be said, were not cyclists. Then the son of the +house, a young gentleman of twenty-two, a footballer and general +athlete, got up, pushed back his chair and said: "Don't worry, I'll +soon settle his hash." + +Then I too rose from my seat, for I had made a vow not to allow a wasp +to be killed unnecessarily in my presence. + +"Leave it to me, please," I said, "and I'll put him out in a minute." + +"No, sit down," he returned. "I have said I'm going to kill it." + +"You shall not," I returned; and then the two of us, serviettes in +hand, went for the wasp, who got frightened and flew all round the +room, we after it. After some chasing he rose high and then made a dash +at the window, but instead of making its escape at the lower open part, +struck the glass. + +"Now I've got him!" cried my sportsman in great glee; but he had not +got him, for I closed with him, and we swayed about and put forth all +our strength, and finally came down with a crash on a couch under the +window. Then after some struggling I succeeded in getting on top, and +with my right hand on his face and my knee on his body to keep him +pressed down, I managed with my left hand to capture the wasp and put +him out. + +Then we got up--he with a scarlet face, furious at being baulked; but +he was a true sportsman, and without one word went back to his seat at +the table. + +Undoubtedly it was a disgraceful scene in a room full of ladies, but +he, not I, provoked it and was the ruffian, as I'm sure he will be +ready to confess if he ever reads this. + +But why all this fuss over a wasp's life, and in such circumstances, in +a room full of nervous ladies, in a house where I was a guest? It was +not that I care more for a wasp than for any other living creature--I +don't love them in the St. Francis way; the wasp is not my little +sister; but I hate to see any living creature unnecessarily, +senselessly, done to death. There are other creatures I can see killed +without a qualm--flies, for instance, especially houseflies and the big +blue-bottle; these are, it was formerly believed, the progeny of Satan, +and modern scientists are inclined to endorse that ancient notion. The +wasp is a redoubtable fly-killer, and apart from his merits, he is a +perfect and beautiful being, and there is no more sense in killing him +than in destroying big game and a thousand beautiful wild creatures +that are harmless to man. Yet this habit of killing a wasp is so +common, ingrained as it were, as to be almost universal among us, and +is found in the gentlest and humanest person, and even the most +spiritual-minded men come to regard it as a sort of religious duty and +exercise, as the incident I am going to relate will show. + +I came to Salisbury one day to find it full of visitors, but I +succeeded in getting a room in one of the small family hotels. I was +told by the landlord that a congress was being held, got up by the +Society for the pursuit or propagation of Holiness, and that delegates, +mostly evangelical clergymen and ministers of the gospel of all +denominations, with many lay brothers, had come in from all over the +kingdom and were holding meetings every day and all day long at one of +the large halls. The three bedrooms on the same floor with mine, he +said, were all occupied by delegates who had travelled from the extreme +north of England. + +In the evening I met these three gentlemen and heard all about their +society and congress and its aim and work from them. + +Next morning at about half-past six I was roused from sleep by a +tremendous commotion in the room adjoining mine: cries and shouts, +hurried trampings over the floor, blows on walls and windows and the +crash of overthrown furniture. However, before I could shake my sleep +off and get up to find out the cause, there were shouts of laughter, a +proof that no one had been killed or seriously injured, and I went to +sleep again. + +At breakfast we met once more, and I was asked if I had been much +disturbed by the early morning noise and excitement. They proceeded to +explain that a wasp had got into the room of their friend--indicating +the elderly gentleman who had taken the head of the table; and as he +was an invalid and afraid of being stung, he had shouted to them to +come to his aid. They had tumbled out of bed and rushed in, and before +beginning operations had made him cover his face and head with the +bedclothes, after which they started hunting the wasp. But he was too +clever for them. They threw things at him and struck at him with their +garments, pillows, slippers, whatever came to hand, and still he +escaped, and in rushing round in their excitement everything in the +room except the bedstead was overthrown. At last the wasp, tired out or +terrified dropped to the floor, and they were on him like a shot and +smashed him with the slippers they had in their hands. + +"And you call yourselves religious men!" I remarked when they had +finished their story and looked at me expecting me to say something. + +They stared astonished at me, then exchanged glances and burst out +laughing, and laughed as if they had heard something too excruciatingly +funny. The elderly clergyman who had been saved from the winged man- +eating dragon that had invaded his room managed at last to recover his +gravity, and his friends followed suit; they then all three silently +looked at me again as if they expected to hear something more. + +Not to disappoint them, I started telling them about the life and work +of a famous nobleman, one of England's great pro-consuls, who for many +years had ruled over various countries in distant regions of the earth, +and many barbarous and semi-savage nations, by whom he was regarded, +for his wisdom and justice and sympathy with the people he governed, +almost as a god. This great man, who was now living in retirement at +home, had just founded a Society for the Protection of Wasps, and had +so far admitted two of his friends who were in sympathy with his +objects to membership. As soon as I heard of the society I had sent in +an application to be admitted, too, and felt it would be a proud day +for me if the founder considered me worthy of being the fourth member. + +Having concluded my remarks, the three religious gentlemen, who had +listened attentively and seriously to my praises of the great pro- +consul, once more exchanged glances and again burst out laughing, and +continued laughing, rocking in their chairs with laughter, until they +could laugh no more for exhaustion, and the elderly gentleman removed +his spectacles to wipe the tears from his eyes. + +Such extravagant mirth surprised me in that grey-haired man who was +manifestly in very bad health, yet had travelled over three hundred +miles from his remote Cumberland parish to give the benefit of his +burning thoughts to his fellow-seekers after holiness congregated at +Salisbury from all parts of the country. + +The gust of merriment having blown its fill, ending quite naturally in +"minute drops from off the eaves," I gravely wished them good-bye and +left the room. They did not know, they never suspected that the +amusement had been on both sides, and that despite their laughter it +had been ten times greater on mine than on theirs. + +I can't in conclusion resist the temptation to tell just one more wasp +incident, although I fear it will hurt the tender-hearted and religious +reader's susceptibilities more than any of those I have already told. +But it will be told briefly, without digression and moralisings. + +We have come to regard Nature as a sort of providence who is mindful of +us and recompenses us according to what our lives are--whether we +worship her and observe her ordinances or find our pleasure in breaking +them and mocking her who will not be mocked. But it is sad for those +who have the feeling of kinship for all living things, both great and +small, from the whale and the elephant down even to the harvest mouse +and beetle and humble earthworm, to know that killing--killing for +sport or fun--is not forbidden in her decalogue. If the killing at home +is not sufficient to satisfy a man, he can transport himself to the +Dark Continent and revel in the slaughter of all the greatest and +noblest forms of life on the globe. There is no crime and no punishment +and no comfort to those who are looking on, except some on exceedingly +rare occasion when we receive a thrill of joy at the lamentable tidings +of the violent death of some noble young gentleman beloved of everybody +and a big-game hunter, who was elephant-shooting, when one of the great +brutes, stung to madness by his wounds, turned, even when dying, on his +persecutor and trampled him to death. + +In a small, pretty, out-of-the-world village in the West of England I +made the acquaintance of the curate, a boyish young fellow not long +from Oxford, who was devoted to sport and a great killer. He was not +satisfied with cricket and football in their seasons and golf and lawn +tennis--he would even descend to croquet when there was nothing else-- +and boxing and fencing, and angling in the neighbouring streams, but he +had to shoot something every day as well. And it was noticed by the +villagers that the shooting fury was always strongest on him on +Mondays. They said it was a reaction; that after the restraint of +Sunday with its three services, especially the last when he was +permitted to pour out his wild curatical eloquence, the need of doing +something violent and savage was most powerful; that he had, so to say, +to wash out the Sunday taste with blood. + +One August, on one of these Mondays, he was dodging along a hedge-side +with his gun trying to get a shot at some bird, when he unfortunately +thrust his foot into a populous wasps' nest, and the infuriated wasps +issued in a cloud and inflicted many stings on his head and face and +neck and hands, and on other parts of his anatomy where they could +thrust their little needles through his clothes. + +This mishap was the talk of the village. "Never mind," they said +cheerfully--they were all very cheerful over it--"he's a good sports- +man, and like all of that kind, hard as nails, and he'll soon be all +right, making a joke of it." + +The result "proved the rogues, they lied," that he was not hard as +nails, but from that day onwards was a very poor creature indeed. The +brass and steel wires in his system had degenerated into just those +poor little soft grey threads which others have and are subject to many +fantastical ailments. He fell into a nervous condition and started and +blanched and was confused when suddenly hailed or spoken to even by +some harmless old woman. He trembled at a shadow, and the very sight +and sound of a wasp in the breakfast room when he was trying to eat a +little toast and marmalade filled him, thrilled him, with fantastic +terrors never felt before. And in vain to still the beating of his +heart he would sit repeating: "It's only a wasp and nothing more." Then +some of the parishioners who loved animals, for there are usually one +or two like that in a village, began to say that it was a "judgment" on +him, that old Mother Nature, angry at the persecutions of her feathered +children by this young cleric who was supposed to be a messenger of +mercy, had revenged herself on him in that way, using her little yellow +insects as her ministers. + + + + +XXXIV + +IN CHITTERNE CHURCHYARD + + +Chitterne is one of those small out-of-the-world villages in the south +Wiltshire downs which attract one mainly because of their isolation and +loneliness and their unchangeableness. Here, however, you discover that +there has been an important change in comparatively recent years--some +time during the first half of the last century. Chitterne, like most +villages, possesses one church, a big building with a tall spire +standing in its central part. Before it was built there were two +churches and two Chitternes--two parishes with one village, each with +its own proper church. These were situated at opposite ends of the one +long street, and were small ancient buildings, each standing in its own +churchyard. One of these disused burying-places, with a part of the old +building still standing in it, is a peculiarly attractive spot, all the +more so because of long years of neglect and of ivy, bramble, and weed +and flower of many kinds that flourish in it, and have long obliterated +the mounds and grown over the few tombs and headstones that still exist +in the ground. + +It was an excessively hot August afternoon when I last visited +Chitterne, and, wishing to rest for an hour before proceeding on my +way, I went to this old churchyard, naturally thinking that I should +have it all to myself. But I found two persons there, both old women of +the peasant class, meanly dressed; yet it was evident they had their +good clothes on and were neat and clean, each with a basket on her arm, +probably containing her luncheon. For they were only visitors and +strangers there, and strangers to one another as they were to me--that, +too, I could guess: also that they had come there with some object-- +perhaps to find some long unvisited grave, for they were walking about, +crossing and recrossing each other's track, pausing from time to time +to look round, then pulling the ivy aside from some old tomb and +reading or trying to read the worn, moss-grown inscription. I began to +watch their movements with growing interest, and could see that they, +too, were very much interested in each other, although for a long time +they did not exchange a word. Presently I, too, fell to examining the +gravestones, just to get near them, and while pretending to be absorbed +in the inscriptions I kept a sharp eye on their movements. They took no +notice of me. I was nothing to them--merely one of another class, a +foreigner, so to speak, a person cycling about the country who was just +taking a ten minutes' peep at the place to gratify an idle curiosity. +But who was _she_--that other old woman; and what did she want +hunting about there in this old forsaken churchyard? was doubtless what +each of those two was saying to herself. And by-and-by their curiosity +got the better of them; then contrived to meet at one stone which they +both appeared anxious to examine. + +I had anticipated this, and no sooner were they together than I was +down on my knees busily pulling the ivy aside from a stone three or +four yards from theirs, absorbed in my business. They bade each other +good day and said something about the hot weather, which led one to +remark that she had found it very trying as she had left home early to +walk to Salisbury to take the train to Codford, and from there she had +walked again to Chitterne. Oddly enough, the other old woman had also +been travelling all day, but from an opposite direction, over Somerset +way, just to visit Chitterne. It seemed an astonishing thing to them +when it came out that they had both been looking forward for years to +this visit, and that it should have been made on the same day, and that +they should have met there in that same forsaken little graveyard. It +seemed stranger still when they came to tell why they had made this +long-desired visit. They were both natives of the village, and had both +left it early in life, one aged seven, the other ten; they had left +much about the same time, and had never returned until now. And they +were now here with the same object--just to find the graves, unmarked +by a stone, where the mother of one of them, the grandparents of both, +and other relatives they still remembered had been buried more than +half a century ago. They were surprised and troubled at their failure +to identify the very spots where the mounds used to be. "It do all look +so different," said one, "an' the old stones be mostly gone." Finally, +when they told their names and their fathers' names--farm-labourers +both--they failed to remember each other, and could only suppose that +they must have forgotten many things about their far-off childhood, +although others were still as well remembered as the incidents of +yesterday. + +The old dames had become very friendly and confidential by this time. +"I dare say," I said to myself, "that if I can manage to stay to the +end I shall see them embrace and kiss at parting," and I also thought +that their strange meeting in the old village churchyard would be a +treasured memory for the rest of their lives. I feared they would +suspect me of eavesdropping, and taking out my penknife, I began +diligently scraping the dead black moss from the letters on the stone, +after which I made pretence of copying the illegible inscription in my +notebook. They, however, took no notice of me, and began telling each +other what their lives had been since they left Chitterne. Both had +married working men and had lost their husbands many years ago; one was +sixty-nine, the other in her sixty-sixth year, and both were strong and +well able to work, although they had had hard lives. Then in a tone of +triumph, their faces lighting up with a kind of joy, they informed each +other that they had never had to go to the parish for relief. Each was +anxious to be first in telling how it had come about that she, the poor +widow of a working man, had been so much happier in her old age than so +many others. So eager were they to tell it that when one spoke the +other would cut in long before she finished, and when they talked +together it was not easy to keep the two narratives distinct. One was +the mother of four daughters, all still unmarried, earning their own +livings, one in a shop, another a sempstress, two in service in good +houses, earning good wages. Never had woman been so blessed in her +children! They would never see their mother go to the House! The other +had but one, a son, and not many like him; no son ever thought more of +his mother. He was at sea, but every nine to ten months he was back in +Bristol, and then on to visit her, and never let a month pass without +writing to her and sending money to pay her rent and keep a nice +comfortable home for him. + +They congratulated one another; then the mother of four said she always +thanked God for giving her daughters, because they were women and could +feel for a mother. The other replied that it was true, she had often +seen it, the way daughters stuck to their mother--_until they +married_. She was thankful to have a son; a man, she said, is a man +and can go out in the world and do things, and if he is a good son he +will never see his mother want. + +The other was nettled at that speech. "Of course a man's a man," she +returned, "but we all know what men are. They are all right till they +pick up with a girl who wants all their wages; then everyone, mother +and all, must be given up." But a daughter was a daughter always; she +had four, she was happy to say. + +This made matters worse. "Daughters always daughters!" came the quick +rejoinder. "I never learned that before. What, my son take up with a +girl and leave his old mother to starve or go to the workhouse! I never +heard such a foolish thing said in my life!" And, being now quite +angry, she looked round for her basket and shawl so as to get away as +quickly as possible from that insulting woman; but the other, guessing +her intention, was too quick for her and started at once to the gate, +but after going four or five steps turned and delivered her last shot: +"Say what you like about your son, and I don't doubt he's been good to +you, and I only hope it'll always be the same; but what I say is, give +me a daughter, and I know, ma'am, that if you had a daughter you'd be +easier in your mind!" + +Having spoken, she made for the gate, and the other, stung in some +vital part by the last words, stood motionless, white with anger, +staring after her, first in silence, but presently she began talking +audibly to herself. "My son--my son pick up with a girl! My son leave +his mother to go on the parish!"--but I stayed to hear no more; it made +me laugh and--it was too sad. + + + + +XXXV + +A HAUNTER OF CHURCHYARDS + + +I said a little while ago that when staying at a village I am apt to +become a haunter of its churchyard; but I go not to it in the spirit of +our well-beloved Mr. Pecksniff. He, it will be remembered, was +accustomed to take an occasional turn among the tombs in the graveyard +at Amesbury, or wherever it was, to read and commit to memory the pious +and admonitory phrases he found on the stones, to be used later as a +garnish to his beautiful, elevating talk. The attraction for me, which +has little to do with inscriptions, was partly stated in the last +sketch, and I may come to it again by-and-by. + +Nevertheless, I cannot saunter or sit down among these memorials +without paying some attention to the lettering on them, and always with +greatest interest in those which time and weather and the corrosive +lichen have made illegible. The old stones that are no longer visited, +on which no fresh-gathered flower is ever laid, which mark the last +resting-places of the men and women who were once the leading members +of the little rustic community, and are now forgotten for ever, whose +bones for a century past have been crumbling to dust. And the +children's children, and remoter descendants of these dead, where are +they? since one refuses to believe that they inhabit this land any +longer. Under what suns, then, by what mountains and what mighty +rivers, on what great green or sun-parched plains and in what roaring +cities in far-off continents? They have forgotten; they have no memory +nor tradition of these buried ones, nor perhaps even know the name of +this village where they lived and died. Yet we believe that something +from these same dead survives in them--something, too, of the place, +the village, the soil, an inherited memory and emotion. At all events +we know that, wheresoever they may be, that their soul is English +still, that they will hearken to their mother's voice when she calls +and come to her from the very ends of the earth. + +As to the modern stones with inscriptions made so plain that you can +read them at a distance of twenty yards, one cultivates the art of not +seeing them, since if you look attentively at them and read the dull +formal inscription, the disgust you will experience at their extreme +ugliness will drive you from the spot, and so cause you to miss some +delicate loveliness lurking there, like a violet "half hidden from the +eye." But I need not go into this subject here, as I have had my say +about it in a well-known book--Hampshire Days. + +The stones I look at are of the seventeenth, eighteenth and first half +of the nineteenth centuries, for even down to the fifties of last +century something of the old tradition lingered on, and not all the +stones were shaped and lettered in imitation of an auctioneer's +advertisement posted on a barn door. + +In reading the old inscriptions, often deciphered with difficulty after +scraping away the moss and lichen, we occasionally discover one that +has the charm of quaintness, or which touches our heart or sense of +humour in such a way as to tempt us to copy it into a note-book. + +In this way I have copied a fair number, and in glancing over my old +note-books containing records of my rambles and observations, mostly +natural history, I find these old epitaphs scattered through them. But +I have never copied an inscription with the intention of using it. And +this for the sufficient reason that epitaphs collected in a book do not +interest me or anyone. They are in the wrong place in a book and cannot +produce the same effect as when one finds and spells them out on a +weathered stone or mural tablet out or inside a village church. It is +the atmosphere--the place, the scene, the associations, which give it +its only value and sometimes make it beautiful and precious. The stone +itself, its ancient look, half-hidden in many cases by ivy, and clothed +over in many-coloured moss and lichen and aerial algae, and the +stonecutter's handiwork, his lettering, and the epitaphs he revelled +in--all this is lost when you take the inscription away and print it. +Take this one, for instance, as a specimen of a fairly good +seventeenth-century epitaph, from Shrewton, a village on Salisbury +Plain, not far from Stonehenge: + + HERE IS MY HOPE TILL TRVMP + SHALL SOVND AND CHRIST + FOR MEE DOTH CALL THEN + SHALL I RISE FROM DEATH + TO LIFE NOE MORETO + DYE AT ALL + + R + HERE LIES THE BODY OF ROBET + WANESBROVGH THE SD + E O ED + OF Y NAME W DEPART THIS + R E + LIFE DEC Y 9TH AODNI 1675 + +It would not be very interesting to put this in a book: + + Here is my hope till trump shall sound + And Christ for me doth call, + Then shall I rise from death to life + No more to die at all. + +But it was interesting to find it there, to examine the old lettering +and think perhaps that if you had been standing at the elbow of the old +lapidary, two and a half centuries ago, you might have given him a +wrinkle in the economising of space and labour. In any case, to find it +there in the dim, rich interior of that ancient village church, to view +it in a religious or reverent mood, and then by-and-by in the dusty +belfry to stumble on other far older memorials of the same family, and +finally, coming out into the sunny churchyard, to come upon the same +name once more in an inscription which tells you that he died in 1890, +aged 88. And you think it a good record after nine generations, and +that the men who lie under these wide skies on these open chalk downs +do not degenerate. + +I have copied these inscriptions for a purpose of my own, just as one +plucks a leaf or a flower and drops it between the pages of a book he +is reading to remind him on some future occasion, when by chance he +finds it again on opening the book at some future time, of the scene, +the place, the very mood of the moment. + +Now, after all said, I am going to quote a few of my old gleanings from +gravestones, not because they are good of their kind--my collection +will look poor and meagre enough compared with those that others have +made--but I have an object in doing it which will appear presently in +the comments. + +Always the best epitaphs to be found in books are those composed by +versifiers for their own and the reading public's amusement, and always +the best in the collection are the humorous ones. + +The first collection I ever read was by the Spanish poet, Martinez de +la Rosa, and although I was a boy then, I can still remember one: + + Aqui Fray Diego reposa, + Jamas hiso otra cosa. + +Which, translated literally, means: + + Here Friar James reposes: + He never did anything else. + +This does well enough on the printed page, but would shock the mind if +seen on a gravestone, and perhaps the rarest of all epitaphs are the +humorous ones. But one is pleased to meet with the unconsciously +humorous; the little titillation, the smile, is a relief, and does not +take away the sense of the tragedy of life and the mournful end. + +A good specimen of the unconsciously humorous epitaph is on a stone in +the churchyard at Maddington, a small village in the Wiltshire Downs, +dated 1843: + + These few lines have been procured + To tell the pains which he endured, + He was crushed to death by the fall + Of an old mould'ring, tottering wall. + All ye young people that pass by + Remember this and breathe a sigh, + Lord, let him hear thy pard'ning voice + And make his broken bones rejoice. + +A better one, from the little village of Mylor, near Falmouth, has I +fancy been often copied: + + His foot it slipped and he did fall, + Help! help! he cried, and that was all. + +And still a better one I found in the churchyard of St. Margaret's at +Lynn, to John Holgate, aged 27, who died in 1712: + + He hath gained his port and is at ease, + And hath escapt ye danger of ye seas, + His glass is run his life is gone, + Which to my thought never did no man no wronge. + +That last line is remarkable, for although its ten slow words have +apparently fallen by chance into that form and express nothing but a +little negative praise of their subject, they say something more by +implication. They conceal a mournful protest against the cruelty and +injustice of his lot, and remind us of the old Italian folk-song, "O +Barnaby, why did you die?" With plenty of wine in the house and salad +in the garden, how wrong, how unreasonable of you to die! But even +while blaming you in so many words, we know, O Barnaby, that the +decision came not from you, and was an outrage, but dare not say so +lest he himself should be listening, and in his anger at one word +should take us away too before our time. It is unconsciously humorous, +yet with the sense of tears in it. + +But there is no sense of tears in the unconscious humour of the solemn +or pompous epitaph composed by the village ignoramus. + +A century ago the village idiot was almost always a member of the +little rustic community, and was even useful to it in two distinct +ways. He was "God's Fool," and compassion and sweet beneficent +instinct, or soul growths, flourished the more for his presence; and +secondly, he was a perpetual source of amusement, a sort of free cinema +provided by Nature for the children's entertainment. I am not sure that +his removal has not been a loss to the little rural centres of life. + +Side by side with the village idiot there was the pompous person who +could not only read a book, but could put whole sentences together and +even make rhymes, and who on these grounds took an important part in +the life of the community. He was not only adviser and letter-writer to +his neighbours, but often composed inscriptions for their gravestones +when they were dead. But in the best specimen of this kind which I have +come upon, I feel pretty sure, from internal evidence, that the buried +man had composed his own epitaph, and probably designed the form of the +stone and its ornamentation. I found this stone in the churchyard of +Minturne Magna, in Dorset. The stone was five feet high and four and a +half broad--a large canvas, so to speak. On the upper half a Tree of +Knowledge was depicted, with leaves and apples, the serpent wound about +the trunk, with Adam and Eve standing on either side. Eve is extending +her arm, with an apple in her open hand, to Adam, and he, foolish man, +is putting out a hand to take it. Then follows the extraordinary +inscription: + + Here lyeth the Body + Of Richard Elambert, + Late of Holnust, who died + June 6, in the year 1805, in the + 100 year of his age. + Neighbours make no stay, + Return unto the Lord, + Nor put it off from day to day, + For Death's a debt ye all must pay. + Ye knoweth not how soon, + It may be the next moment, + Night, morning or noon. + I set this as a caution + To my neighbours in rime, + God give grace that you + May all repent in time. + For what God has decreed, + We surely must obey, + For when please God to send + His death's dart into us so keen, + O then we must go hence + And be no more here seen. + + ALSO + + Handy lyeth here + Dianna Elambert, + Which was my only daughter dear, + Who died Jan. 10, 1776, + In the 18th year of her age. + +Poor Diana deserved a less casual word! + +Enough of that kind. The next to follow is the quite plain, sensible, +narrative inscription, with no pretension to fine diction, albeit in +rhyme. Oddly enough the most perfect example I have found is in the +churchyard at Kew, which seems too near to London: + + + Here lyith the bodies of Robert and Ann + Plaistow, late of Tyre, Edghill, in Warwickshire, + Dyed August 23, 1728. + At Tyre they were born and bred + And in the same good lives they led, + Until they come to married state, + Which was to them most fortunate. + Near sixty years of mortal life + They were a happy man and wife, + And being so by Nature tyed + When one fell sick the other dyed, + And both together laid in dust + To await the rising of the just. + They had six children born and bred, + And five before them being dead, + Their only then surviving son + Hath caused this stone for to be done. + +After this little masterpiece I will quote no other in this class. + +After copying some scores of inscriptions, we find that there has +always been a convention or fashion in such things, and that it has +been constantly but gradually changing during the last three centuries. +Very few of the seventeenth century, which are the best, are now +decipherable, out of doors at all events. In an old graveyard you will +perhaps find two or three among two or three hundred stones, yet you +believe that two to three hundred years ago the small space was as +thickly peopled with stones as now. The two or three or more that have +not perished are of the very hardest kind of stone, and the old letters +often show that they were cut with great difficulty. We also find that +apart from the convention of the age or time, there were local +conventions or fashions. In some parts of the South of England you find +numbers of enormous stones five feet high and nearly as broad. This +mode has long vanished. But you find a resemblance in the inscriptions +as well. Thus, wherever the Methodists obtained a firm hold on the +community, you find the spirit of ugliness appearing in the village +churchyard from the middle of the eighteenth century onwards, when the +old ornate and beautiful stones with figures of winged cherubs bearing +torches, scattering flowers or blowing trumpets, were the usual +decorations, giving place to the plain or ugly stone with its square +ugly lettering and the dull monotonous form of the inscription. "To the +memory of Mr. Buggins of this parish, who died on February 27th, 1801, +aged 67." And then, to save trouble and expense, a verse from a hymn, +or the simple statement that he is asleep in Jesus, or is awaiting the +resurrection. + +I am inclined to blame Methodism for these horrors simply because it +is, as we know, the cult of ugliness, but there may have been another +cause for the change; it was perhaps to some extent a reaction against +the stilted, the pompous and silly epitaph which one finds most common +in the first half of the eighteenth century. + +Here is a perfect specimen which I found at St. Just, in Cornwall, to a +Martin Williams, 1771: + + Life's but a snare, a Labyrinth of Woe + Which wretched Man is doomed to struggle through. + To-day he's great, to-morrow he's undone, + And thus with Hope and Fear he blunders on, + Till some disease, or else perhaps old Age + Calls us poor Mortals trembling from the Stage. + +An amusing variant of one of the commoner forms of that time appears at +Lelant, a Cornish village near St. Ives: + + What now you are so once was me, + What now I am that you will be, + Therefore prepare to follow me. + +No less remarkable in grammar as in the identical or perfect rhyme in +the first and third lines. The author or adapter could have escaped +this by making the two first the expression of the person buried +beneath, and the third the comment from the outsider, as follows: + + Therefore prepare to follow _she_, + +It was a woman, I must say. + +This form of epitaph is quite common, and I need not give here more +examples from my notes, but the better convention coming down from the +preceding age goes on becoming more and more modified all through the +eighteenth, and even to the middle of the nineteenth century. + +The following from St. Erth, a Cornish village, is a most suitable +inscription on the grave of an old woman who was a nurse in the same +family from 1750 to 1814: + + + Time rolls her ceaseless course; the race of yore + That danced our infancy on their knee + And told our wondering children Legends lore + Of strange adventures haped by Land and Sea, + How are they blotted from the things that be! + +There are many beautiful stones and appropriate inscriptions during all +that long period, in spite of the advent of Mr. Buggins and his +ugliness, and the charm and pathos is often in a phrase, a single line, +as in this from St. Keverne, 1710, a widow's epitaph on her husband: + + Rest here awhile, thou dearest part of me. + +But let us now get back another century at a jump, to the Jacobean and +Caroline period. And for these one must look as a rule in interiors, +seeing that, where exposed to the weather, the lettering, if not the +whole stone, has perished. Perhaps the best specimen of the grave +inscription, lofty but not pompous, of that age which I have met with +is on a tablet in Ripon Cathedral to Hugh de Ripley, a locally +important man who died in 1637: + + Others seek titles to their tombs + Thy deeds to thy name prove new wombes + And scutcheons to deck their Herse + Which thou need'st not like teares and vers. + If I should praise thy thriving witt + Or thy weighed judgment serving it + Thy even and thy like straight ends + Thy pitie to God and to friends + The last would still the greatest be + And yet all jointly less than thee. + Thou studiedst conscience more than fame + Still to thy gathered selfe the same. + Thy gold was not thy saint nor welth + Purchased by rapine worse than stealth + Nor did'st thou brooding on it sit + Not doing good till death with it. + This many may blush at when they see + What thy deeds were what theirs should be. + Thou'st gone before and I wait now + T'expect my when and wait my how + Which if my Jesus grant like thine + Who wets my grave's no friend of mine. + +Rather too long for my chapter, but I quote it for the sake of the last +four lines, characteristic of that period, the age of conceits, of the +love of fantasticalness, of Donne, Crashaw, Vaughan. + +A jump from Ripon of 600 odd miles to the little village of Ludgvan, +near Penzance, brings us to a tablet of nearly the same date, 1635, and +an inscription conceived in the same style and spirit. It is +interesting, on account of the name of Catherine Davy, an ancestress of +the famous Sir Humphry, whose marble statue stands before the Penzance +Market House facing Market Jew Street. + + Death shall not make her memory to rott + Her virtues were too great to be forgott. + Heaven hath her soul where it must still remain + The world her worth to blazon forth her fame + The poor relieved do honour and bless her name. + Earth, Heaven, World, Poor, do her immortalize + Who dying lives and living never dies. + +Here is another of 1640: + + Here lyeth the body of my Husband deare + Whom next to God I did most love and fear. + Our loves were single: we never had but one + And so I'll be although that thou art gone. + +Which means that she has no intention of marrying again. Why have I set +this inscription down? Solely to tell how I copied it. I saw it on a +brass in the obscure interior of a small village church in Dorset, but +placed too high up on the wall to be seen distinctly. By piling seven +hassocks on top of one another I got high up enough to read the date +and inscription, but before securing the name I had to get quickly down +for fear of falling and breaking my neck. The hassocks had added five +feet to my six. + +The convention of that age appears again in the following inscription +from a tablet in Aldermaston church, in that beautiful little Berkshire +village, once the home of the Congreves: + + Like borne, like new borne, here like dead they lie, + Four virgin sisters decked with pietie + Beauty and other graces which commend + And made them like blessed in the end. + +Which means they were very much like each other, and were all as pure +in heart as new-born babes, and that they all died unmarried. + +Where the epitaph-maker of that time occasionally went wrong was in his +efforts to get his fantasticalness in willy-nilly, or in a silly play +upon words, as in the following example from the little village of +Boyton on the Wylie river, on a man named Barnes, who died in 1638: + + Stay Passenger and view a stack of corne + Reaped and laid up in the Almighty's Barne + Or rather Barnes of Choyce and precious grayne + Put in his garner there still to remaine. + +But in the very next village--that of Stockton--I came on the best I +have found of that time. It is, however, a little earlier in time, +before fantasticalness came into fashion, and in spirit is of the +nobler age. It is to Elizabeth Potecary, who died in 1590. + + Here she interred lies deprived of breath + Whose light of virtue once on Earth did shyne + Who life contemned ne feared ghostly death + Whom worlde ne worldlye cares could cause repine + Resolved to die with hope in Heaven placed + Her Christ to see whom living she embraced + In paynes most fervent still in zeal most strong + In death delighting God to magnifye + How long will thou forgett me Lord! this cry + In greatest pangs was her sweet harmonye + Forgett thee? No! he will not thee forgett + In books of Lyfe thy name for aye is set. + +And with Elizabeth Potecary, that dear lady dead these three centuries +and longer, I must bring this particular Little Thing to an end. + + + + +XXXVI + +THE DEAD AND THE LIVING + + +The last was indeed in essence a small thing, but was running to such a +great length it had to be ended before my selected best inscriptions +were used up, also before the true answer to the question: "Why, if +inscriptions do not greatly interest me, do I haunt churchyards?" was +given. Let me give it now: it will serve as a suitable conclusion to +what has already been said on the subject in this and in a former book. + +When we have sat too long in a close, hot, brilliantly-lighted, over- +crowded room, a sense of unutterable relief is experienced on coming +forth into the pure, fresh, cold night and filling our lungs with air +uncontaminated with the poisonous gases discharged from other lungs. An +analogous sense of immense relief, of escape from confinement and +joyful liberation, is experienced mentally when after long weeks or +months in London I repair to a rustic village. Yet, like the person who +has in his excitement been inhaling poison into his system for long +hours, I am not conscious of the restraint at the time. Not consciously +conscious. The mind was too exclusively occupied with itself--its own +mind affairs. The cage was only recognised as a cage, an unsuitable +habitation, when I was out of it. An example, this, of the eternal +disharmony between the busy mind and nature--or Mother Nature, let us +say; the more the mind is concentrated on its own business the blinder +we are to the signals of disapproval on her kindly countenance, the +deafer to her warning whispers in our ear. + +The sense of relief is chiefly due to the artificiality of the +conditions of London or town life, and no doubt varies greatly in +strength in town and country-bred persons; in me it is so strong that +on first coming out to where there are woods and fields and hedges, I +am almost moved to tears. + +We have recently heard the story of the little East-end boy on his +holiday in a quiet country spot, who exclaimed: "How full of sound the +country is! Now in London we can't hear the sound because of the +noises." And as with sound--the rural sounds that are familiar from of +old and find an echo in us--so with everything: we do not hear nor see +nor smell nor feel the earth, which he is, physically and mentally, in +such per-period, the years that run to millions, that it has "entered +the soul"; an environment with which he is physically and mentally, in +such perfect harmony that it is like an extension of himself into the +surrounding space. Sky and cloud and wind and rain, and rock and soil +and water, and flocks and herds and all wild things, with trees and +flowers--everywhere grass and everlasting verdure--it is all part of +men, and is me, as I sometimes feel in a mystic mood, even as a +religious man in a like mood feels that he is in a heavenly place and +is a native there, one with it. + +Another less obvious cause of my feeling is that the love of our kind +cannot exist, or at all events not unmixed with contempt and various +other unpleasant ingredients, in people who live and have their being +amidst thousands and millions of their fellow-creatures herded +together. The great thoroughfares in which we walk are peopled with an +endless procession, an innumerable multitude; we hardly see and do not +look at or notice them, knowing beforehand that we do not know and +never will know them to our dying day; from long use we have almost +ceased to regard them as fellow-beings. + +I recall here a tradition of the Incas, which tells that in the +beginning a benevolent god created men on the slopes of the Andes, and +that after a time another god, who was at enmity with the first, +spitefully transformed them into insects. Here we have a contrary +effect--it is the insects which have been transformed; the millions of +wood-ants, let us say, inhabiting an old and exceedingly populous nest +have been transformed into men, but in form only; mentally they are +still ants, all silently, everlastingly hurrying by, absorbed in their +ant-business. You can almost smell the formic acid. Walking in the +street, one of the swarming multitude, you are in but not of it. You +are only one with the others in appearance; in mind you are as unlike +them as a man is unlike an ant, and the love and sympathy you feel +towards them is about equal to that which you experience when looking +down on the swarm in a wood-ants' nest. + +Undoubtedly when I am in the crowd, poisoned by contact with the crowd- +mind--the formic acid of the spirits--I am not actually or keenly +conscious of the great gulf between me and the others, but, as in the +former case, the sense of relief is experienced here too in escaping +from it. The people of the small rustic community have not been de- +humanised. I am a stranger, and they do not meet me with blank faces +and pass on in ant-like silence. So great is the revulsion that I look +on them as of my kin, and am so delighted to be with them again after +an absence of centuries, that I want to embrace and kiss them all. I am +one of them, a villager with the village mind, and no wish for any +other. + +This mind or heart includes the dead as well as the living, and the +church and churchyard is the central spot and half-way house or +camping-ground between this and the other world, where dead and living +meet and hold communion--a fact that is unknown to or ignored by +persons of the "better class," the parish priest or vicar sometimes +included. + +And as I have for the nonce taken on the village mind, I am as much +interested in my incorporeal, invisible neighbours as in those I see +and am accustomed to meet and converse with every day. They are here in +the churchyard, and I am pleased to be with them. Even when I sit, as I +sometimes do of an evening, on a flat tomb with a group of laughing +children round me, some not yet tired of play, climbing up to my side +only to jump down again, I am not oblivious of their presence. They are +there, and are glad to see the children playing among the tombs where +they too had their games a century ago. I notice that the village woman +passing through the ground pauses a minute with her eyes resting on a +certain spot; even the tired labourer, coming home to his tea, will let +his eyes dwell on some green mound, to see sitting or standing there +someone who in life was very near and dear to him, with whom he is now +exchanging greetings. But the old worn-out labourer, who happily has +not gone to end his days in captivity in the bitter Home of the Poor-- +he, sitting on a tomb to rest and basking in the sunshine, has a whole +crowd of the vanished villagers about him. + +It is useless their telling us that when we die we are instantly judged +and packed straight off to some region where we are destined to spend +an eternity. We know better. Nature, our own hearts, have taught us +differently. Furthermore, we have heard of the resurrection--that the +dead will rise again at the last day; and with all our willingness to +believe what our masters tell us, we know that even a dead man can't be +in two places at the same time. Our dead are here where we laid them; +sleeping, no doubt, but not so soundly sleeping, we imagine, as not to +see and hear us when we visit and speak to them. And being villagers +still though dead, they like to see us often, whenever we have a few +spare minutes to call round and exchange a few words with them. + +This extremely beautiful--and in its effect beneficial--feeling and +belief, or instinct, or superstition if the superior inhabitants of the +wood-ants' nest, who throw their dead away and think no more about +them, will have it so--is a sweet and pleasant thing in the village +life and a consolation to those who are lonely. Let me in conclusion +give an instance. + +The churchyard I like best is situated in the village itself, and is in +use both for the dead and living, and the playground of the little +ones, but some time ago I by chance discovered one which was over half +a mile from the village; an ancient beautiful church and churchyard +which so greatly attracted me that in my rambles in that part I often +went a mile or two out of my way just for the pleasure of spending an +hour or two in that quiet sacred spot. It was in a wooded district in +Hampshire, and there were old oak woods all round the church, with no +other building in sight and seldom a sound of human life. There was an +old road outside the gate, but few used it. The tombs and stones were +many and nearly covered with moss and lichen and half-draped in +creeping ivy. There, sitting on a tomb, I would watch the small +woodland birds that made it their haunt, and listen to the delicate +little warbling or tinkling notes, and admire the two ancient +picturesque yew trees growing there. + +One day, while sitting on a tomb, I saw a woman coming from the village +with a heavy basket on her head, and on coming to the gate she turned +in, and setting the basket down walked to a spot about thirty yards +from where I sat, and at that spot she remained for several minutes +standing motionless, her eyes cast down, her arms hanging at her sides. +A cottage woman in a faded cotton gown, of a common Hampshire type, +flat-chested, a rather long oval face, almost colourless, and black +dusty hair. She looked thirty-five, but was probably less than thirty, +as women of their class age early in this county and get the toil-worn, +tired face when still young. + +By-and-by I went over to her and asked her if she was visiting some of +her people at that spot. Yes, she returned; her mother and father were +buried under the two grass mounds at her feet; and then quite +cheerfully she went on to tell me all about them--how all their other +children had gone away to live at a distance from home, and she was +left alone with them when they grew old and infirm. They were natives +of the village, and after they were both dead, five years ago, she got +a place at a farm about a mile up the road. There she had been ever +since, but fortunately she had to come to the village every week, and +always on her way back she spent a quarter or half an hour with her +parents. She was sure they looked for that weekly visit from her, as +they had no other relation in the place now, and that they liked to +hear all the village news from her. + +All this and more she told me in the most open way. Like Wordsworth's +"simple child," what could she know of death? But being a villager +myself I was better informed than Wordsworth, and didn't enter on a +ponderous argument to prove to her that when people die they die, and +being dead, they can't be alive--therefore to pay them a weekly visit +and tell them all the news was a mere waste of time and breath. + + + + +XXXVII + +A STORY OF THREE POEMS + + +I wrote in the last sketch but one of the villager with a literary gift +who composes the epitaphs in rhyme of his neighbours when they pass +away and are buried in the churchyard. This has served to remind me of +a kindred subject--the poetry or verse (my own included) of those who +are not poets by profession: also of an incident. Undoubtedly there is +a vast difference between the village rhymester and the true poet, and +the poetry I am now concerned with may be said to come somewhat between +these two extremes. Or to describe it in metaphor, it may be said to +come midway between the crow of the "tame villatic fowl" and the music +of the nightingale in the neighbouring copse or of the skylark singing +at heaven's gate. The impartial reader may say at the finish that the +incident was not worth relating. Are there any such readers? I doubt +it. I take it that we all, even those who appear the most matter-of- +fact in their minds and lives, have something of the root, the +elements, of poetry in their composition. How should it be otherwise, +seeing that we are all creatures of like passions, all in some degree +dreamers of dreams; and as we all possess the faculty of memory we must +at times experience emotions recollected in tranquillity. And that, our +masters have told us, is poetry. + +It is hardly necessary to say that it is nothing of the sort: it is the +elements, the essence, the feeling which makes poetry if expressed. I +have a passion for music, a perpetual desire to express myself in +music, but as I can't sing and can't perform on any musical instrument, +I can't call myself a musician. The poetic feeling that is in us and +cannot be expressed remains a secret untold, a warmth in the heart, a +rapture which cannot be communicated. But it cries to be told, and in +some rare instances the desire overcomes the difficulty: in a happy +moment the unknown language is captured as by a miracle and the secret +comes out. + +And, as a rule, when it has been expressed it is put in the fire, or +locked up in a desk. By-and-by the hidden poem will be taken out and +read with a blush. For how could he, a practical-minded man, with a +wholesome contempt for the small scribblers and people weak in their +intellectuals generally, have imagined himself a poet and produced this +pitiful stuff! + +Then, too, there are others who blush, but with pleasure, at the +thought that, without being poets, they have written something out of +their own heads which, to them at all events, reads just like poetry. +Some of these little poems find their way into an editor's hands, to be +looked at and thrown aside in most cases, but occasionally one wins a +place in some periodical, and my story relates to one of these chosen +products--or rather to three. + +One summer afternoon, many years ago--but I know the exact date: July +1st, 1897--I was drinking tea on the lawn of a house at Kew, when the +maid brought the letters out to her mistress, and she, Mrs. E. Hubbard, +looking over the pile remarked that she saw the _Selborne +Magazine_ had come and she would just glance over it to see if it +contained anything to interest both of us. + +After a minute or two she exclaimed "Why, here is a poem by Charlie +Longman! How strange--I never suspected him of being a poet!" + +She was speaking of C. J. Longman, the publisher, and it must be +explained that he was an intimate friend and connection of hers through +his marriage with her niece, the daughter of Sir John Evans the +antiquary, and sister of Sir Arthur Evans. + +The poem was _To the Orange-tip Butterfly_. + + Cardamines! Cardamines! + Thine hour is when the thrushes sing, + When gently stirs the vernal breeze, + When earth and sky proclaim the spring; + When all the fields melodious ring + With cuckoos' calls, when all the trees + Put on their green, then art thou king + Of butterflies, Cardamines. + + What though thine hour be brief, for thee + The storms of winter never blow, + No autumn gales shall scorn the lea, + Thou scarce shalt feel the summer's glow; + But soaring high or flitting low, + Or racing with the awakening bees + For spring's first draughts of honey--so + Thy life is passed, Cardamines. + + Cardamines! Cardamines! + E'en among mortal men I wot + Brief life while spring-time quickly flees + Might seem a not ungrateful lot: + For summer's rays are scorching hot + And autumn holds but summer's lees, + And swift in autumn is forgot + The winter comes, Cardamines. + +So well pleased were we with this little lyric that we read it aloud +two or three times over to each other: for it was a hot summer's day +when the early, freshness and bloom is over and the foliage takes on a +deeper, almost sombre green; and it brought back to us the vivid spring +feeling, the delight we had so often experienced on seeing again the +orange-tip, that frail delicate flutterer, the loveliest, the most +spiritual, of our butterflies. + +Oddly enough, the very thing which, one supposes, would spoil a lyric +about any natural object--the use of a scientific instead of a popular +name, with the doubling and frequent repetition of it--appeared in this +instance to add a novel distinction and beauty to the verses. + +The end of our talk on the subject was a suggestion I made that it +would be a nice act on her part to follow Longman's lead and write a +little nature poem for the next number of the magazine. This she said +she would do if I on my part would promise to follow her poem with one +by me, and I said I would. + +Accordingly her poem, which I transcribe, made its appearance in the +next number. + + MY MOOR + + Purple with heather, and golden with gorse, + Stretches the moorland for mile after mile; + Over it cloud-shadows float in their course,-- + Grave thoughts passing athwart a smile,-- + Till the shimmering distance, grey and gold, + Drowns all in a glory manifold. + + O the blue butterflies quivering there, + Hovering, flickering, never at rest, + Quickened flecks of the upper air + Brought down by seeing the earth so blest; + And the grasshoppers shrilling their quaint delight + At having been born in a world so bright! + + Overhead circles the lapwing slow, + Waving his black-tipped curves of wings, + Calling so clearly that I, as I go, + Call back an answering "Peewit," that brings + The sweep of his circles so low as he flies + That I see his green plume, and the doubt in his eyes. + + Harebell and crowfoot and bracken and ling + Gladden my heart as it beats all aglow + In a brotherhood true with each living thing, + From the crimson-tipped bee, and the chaffer slow, + And the small lithe lizard, with jewelled eye, + To the lark that has lost herself far in the sky. + + Ay me, where am I? for here I sit + With bricks all round me, bilious and brown; + And not a chance this summer to quit + The bustle and roar and the cries of town, + Nor to cease to breathe this over-breathed air, + Heavy with toil and bitter with care. + + Well,--face it and chase it, this vain regret; + Which would I choose, to see my moor + With eyes such as many that I have met, + Which see and are blind, which all wealth leaves poor, + Or to sit, brick-prisoned, but free within, + Freeborn by a charter no gold can win? + +When my turn came, the poem I wrote, which duly appeared, was, like my +friend's _Moor_, a recollected emotion, a mental experience +relived. Mine was in the New Forest; when walking there on day, the +loveliness of that green leafy world, its silence and its melody and +the divine sunlight, so wrought on me that for a few precious moments +it produced a mystical state, that rare condition of beautiful +illusions when the feet are off the ground, when, on some occasions, we +appear to be one with nature, unbodied like the poet's bird, floating, +diffused in it. There are also other occasions when this transfigured +aspect of nature produces the idea that we are in communion with or in +the presence of unearthly entities. + + THE VISIONARY + + I + + It must be true, I've somtimes thought, + That beings from some realm afar + Oft wander in the void immense, + Flying from star to star. + + In silence through this various world, + They pass, to mortal eyes unseen, + And toiling men in towns know not + That one with them has been. + + But oft, when on the woodland falls + A sudden hush, and no bird sings; + When leaves, scarce fluttered by the wind, + Speak low of sacred things, + + My heart has told me I should know, + In such a lonely place, if one + From other worlds came there and stood + Between me and the sun. + + II + + At noon, within the woodland shade + I walked and listened to the birds; + And feeling glad like them I sang + A low song without words. + + When all at once a radiance white, + Not from the sun, all round me came; + The dead leaves burned like gold, the grass + Like tongues of emerald flame. + + The murmured song died on my lips; + Scarce breathing, motionless I stood; + So strange that splendour was! so deep + A silence held the wood! + + The blood rushed to and from my heart, + Now felt like ice, now fire in me, + Till putting forth my hands, I cried, + "O let me hear and see!" + + But even as I spake, and gazed + Wide-eyed, and bowed my trembling knees, + The glory and the silence passed + Like lightning from the trees. + + And pale at first the sunlight seemed + When it was gone; the leaves were stirred + To whispered sound, and loud rang out + The carol of a bird. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Traveller in Little Things, by W. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Traveller in Little Things + +Author: W. H. Hudson + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7982] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 8, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Joshua Hutchinson, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS + +BY + +W. H. HUDSON + + + + +NOTE + + +Of the sketches contained in this volume, fourteen have appeared in the +following periodicals: _The New Statesman_, _The Saturday +Review_, _The Nation_, and _The Cornhill Magazine_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. HOW I FOUND MY TITLE + II. THE OLD MAN'S DELUSION + III. AS A TREE FALLS + IV. BLOOD: A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + V. A STORY OF LONG DESCENT + VI. A SECOND STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + VII. A THIRD STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + VIII. THE TWO WHITE HOUSES: A MEMORY + IX. DANDY: A STORY OF A DOG + X. THE SAMPHIRE GATHERER + XI. A SURREY VILLAGE + XII. A WILTSHIRE VILLAGE + XIII. HER OWN VILLAGE + XIV. APPLE BLOSSOMS AND A LOST VILLAGE + XV. THE VANISHING CURTSEY + XVI. LITTLE GIRLS I HAVE MET + XVII. MILLICENT AND ANOTHER + XVIII. FRECKLES + XIX. ON CROMER BEACH + XX. DIMPLES + XXI. WILD FLOWERS AND LITTLE GIRLS + XXII. A LITTLE GIRL LOST + XXIII. A SPRAY OF SOUTHERNWOOD + XXIV. IN PORCHESTER CHURCHYARD + XXV. HOMELESS + XXVI. THE STORY OF A SKULL + XXVII. A STORY OF A WALNUT + XXVIII. A STORY OF A JACKDAW + XXIX. A WONDERFUL STORY OF A MACKEREL + XXX. STRANGERS YET + XXXI. THE RETURN OF THE CHIFF-CHAFF + XXXII. A WASP AT TABLE + XXXIII. WASPS AND MEN + XXXIV. IN CHITTERNE CHURCHYARD + XXXV. A HAUNTER OF CHURCHYARDS + XXXVI. THE DEAD AND THE LIVING + XXXVII. A STORY OF THREE POEMS + + + + +A TRAVELLER IN LITTLE THINGS + + +I + +HOW I FOUND MY TITLE + + +It is surely a rare experience for an unclassified man, past middle +age, to hear himself accurately and aptly described for the first time +in his life by a perfect stranger! This thing happened to me at +Bristol, some time ago, in the way I am about to relate. I slept at a +Commercial Hotel, and early next morning was joined in the big empty +coffee-room, smelling of stale tobacco, by an intensely respectable- +looking old gentleman, whose hair was of silvery whiteness, and who +wore gold-rimmed spectacles and a heavy gold watch-chain with many +seals attached thereto; whose linen was of the finest, and whose outer +garments, including the trousers, were of the newest and blackest +broadcloth. A glossier and at the same time a more venerable-looking +"commercial" I had never seen in the west country, nor anywhere in the +three kingdoms. He could not have improved his appearance if he had +been on his way to attend the funeral of a millionaire. But with all +his superior look he was quite affable, and talked fluently and +instructively on a variety of themes, including trade, politics, and +religion. Perceiving that he had taken me for what I was not--one of +the army in which he served, but of inferior rank--I listened +respectfully as became me. Finally he led the talk to the subject of +agriculture, and the condition and prospects of farming in England. +Here I perceived that he was on wholly unfamiliar ground, and in return +for the valuable information he had given me on other and more +important subjects, I proceeded to enlighten him. When I had finished +stating my facts and views, he said: "I perceive that you know a great +deal more about the matter than I do, and I will now tell you why you +know more. You are a traveller in little things--in something very +small--which takes you into the villages and hamlets, where you meet +and converse with small farmers, innkeepers, labourers and their wives, +with other persons who live on the land. In this way you get to hear a +good deal about rent and cost of living, and what the people are able +and not able to do. Now I am out of all that; I never go to a village +nor see a farmer. I am a traveller in something very large. In the +south and west I visit towns like Salisbury, Exeter, Bristol, +Southampton; then I go to the big towns in the Midlands and the North, +and to Glasgow and Edinburgh; and afterwards to Belfast and Dublin. It +would simply be a waste of time for me to visit a town of less than +fifty or sixty thousand inhabitants." + +He then gave me some particulars concerning the large thing he +travelled in; and when I had expressed all the interest and admiration +the subject called for, he condescendingly invited me to tell him +something about my own small line. + +Now this was wrong of him; it was a distinct contravention of an +unwritten law among "Commercials" that no person must be interrogated +concerning the nature of his business. The big and the little man, once +inside the hostel, which is their club as well, are on an equality. I +did not remind my questioner of this--I merely smiled and said nothing, +and he of course understood and respected my reticence. With a pleasant +nod and a condescending let-us-say-no-more-about-it wave of the hand he +passed on to other matters. + +Notwithstanding that I was amused at his mistake, the label he had +supplied me with was something to be grateful for, and I am now finding +a use for it. And I think that if he, my labeller, should see this +sketch by chance and recognise himself in it, he will say with his +pleasant smile and wave of the hand, "Oh, that's his line! Yes, yes, I +described him rightly enough, thinking it haberdashery or floral texts +for cottage bedrooms, or something of that kind; I didn't imagine he +was a traveller in anything quite so small as this." + + + + +II + +THE OLD MAN'S DELUSION + + +We know that our senses are subject to decay, that from our middle +years they are decaying all the time; but happily it is as if we didn't +know and didn't believe. The process is too gradual to trouble us; we +can only say, at fifty or sixty or seventy, that it is doubtless the +case that we can't see as far or as well, or hear or smell as sharply, +as we did a decade ago, but that we don't notice the difference. Lately +I met an extreme case, that of a man well past seventy who did not +appear to know that his senses had faded at all. He noticed that the +world was not what it had been to him, as it had appeared, for example, +when he was a plough-boy, the time of his life he remembered most +vividly, but it was not the fault of his senses; the mirror was all +right, it was the world that had grown dim. I found him at the gate +where I was accustomed to go of an evening to watch the sun set over +the sea of yellow corn and the high green elms beyond, which divide the +cornfields from the Maidenhead Thicket. An old agricultural labourer, +he had a grey face and grey hair and throat-beard; he stooped a good +deal, and struck me as being very feeble and long past work. But he +told me that he still did some work in the fields. The older farmers +who had employed him for many years past gave him a little to do; he +also had his old-age pension, and his children helped to keep him in +comfort. He was quite well off, he said, compared to many. There was a +subdued and sombre cheerfulness in him, and when I questioned him about +his early life, he talked very freely in his slow old peasant way. He +was born in a village in the Vale of Aylesbury, and began work as a +ploughboy on a very big farm. He had a good master and was well fed, +the food being bacon, vegetables, and homemade bread, also suet pudding +three times a week. But what he remembered best was a rice pudding +which came by chance in his way during his first year on the farm. +There was some of the pudding left in a dish after the family had +dined, and the farmer said to his wife, "Give it to the boy"; so he had +it, and never tasted anything so nice in all his life. How he enjoyed +that pudding! He remembered it now as if it had been yesterday, though +it was sixty-five years ago. + +He then went on to talk of the changes that had been going on in the +world since that happy time; but the greatest change of all was in the +appearance of things. He had had a hard life, and the hardest time was +when he was a ploughboy and had to work so hard that he was tired to +death at the end of every day; yet at four o'clock in the morning he +was ready and glad to get up and go out to work all day again because +everything looked so bright, and it made him happy just to look up at +the sky and listen to the birds. In those days there were larks. The +number of larks was wonderful; the sound of their singing filled the +whole air. He didn't want any greater happiness than to hear them +singing over his head. A few days ago, not more than half a mile from +where we were standing, he was crossing a field when a lark got up +singing near him and went singing over his head. He stopped to listen +and said to himself, "Well now, that do remind me of old times!" + +"For you know," he went on, "it is a rare thing to hear a lark now. +What's become of all the birds I used to see I don't know. I remember +there was a very pretty bird at that time called the yellow-hammer--a +bird all a shining yellow, the prettiest of all the birds." He never +saw nor heard that bird now, he assured me. + +That was how the old man talked, and I never told him that yellow +hammers could be seen and heard all day long anywhere on the common +beyond the green wall of the elms, and that a lark was singing loudly +high up over our heads while he was talking of the larks he had +listened to sixty-five years ago in the Vale of Aylesbury, and saying +that it was a rare thing to hear that bird now. + + + + +III + +AS A TREE FALLS + + +At the Green Dragon, where I refreshed myself at noon with bread and +cheese and beer, I was startlingly reminded of a simple and, I suppose, +familiar psychological fact, yet one which we are never conscious of +except at rare moments when by chance it is thrust upon us. + +There are many Green Dragons in this world of wayside inns, even as +there are many White Harts, Red Lions, Silent Women and other +incredible things; but when I add that my inn is in a Wiltshire +village, the headquarters of certain gentlemen who follow a form of +sport which has long been practically obsolete in this country, and +indeed throughout the civilised world, some of my readers will have no +difficulty in identifying it. + +After lunching I had an hour's pleasant conversation with the genial +landlord and his buxom good-looking wife; they were both natives of a +New Forest village and glad to talk about it with one who knew it +intimately. During our talk I happened to use the words--I forget what +about--"As a tree falls so must it lie." The landlady turned on me her +dark Hampshire eyes with a sudden startled and pained look in them, and +cried: "Oh, please don't say that!' + +"Why not?" I asked. "It is in the Bible, and a quite common saying." + +"I know," she returned, "but I can't bear it--I hate to hear it!" + +She would say no more, but my curiosity was stirred, and I set about +persuading her to tell me. "Ah, yes," I said, "I can guess why. It's +something in your past life--a sad story of one of your family--one +very much loved perhaps--who got into trouble and was refused all help +from those who might have saved him." + +"No," she said, "it all happened before my time--long before. I never +knew her." And then presently she told me the story. + +When her father was a young man he lived and worked with his father, a +farmer in Hampshire and a widower. There were several brothers and +sisters, and one of the sisters, named Eunice, was most loved by all of +them and was her father's favourite on account of her beauty and sweet +disposition. Unfortunately she became engaged to a young man who was +not liked by the father, and when she refused to break her engagement +to please him he was dreadfully angry and told her that if she went +against him and threw herself away on that worthless fellow he would +forbid her the house and would never see or speak to her again. + +Being of an affectionate disposition and fond of her father it grieved +her sorely to disobey him, but her love compelled her, and by-and-by +she went away and was married in a neighbouring village where her lover +had his home. It was not a happy marriage, and after a few anxious +years she fell into a wasting illness, and when it became known to her +that she was near her end she sent a message by a brother to the old +father to come and see her before she died. She had never ceased to +love him, and her one insistent desire was to receive his forgiveness +and blessing before finishing her life. His answer was, "As a tree +falls so shall it lie." He would not go near her. Shortly afterwards +the unhappy young wife passed away. + +The landlady added that the brother who had taken the message was her +father, that he was now eighty-two years old and still spoke of his +long dead and greatly loved sister, and always said he had never +forgiven and would never forgive his father, dead half a century ago, +for having refused to go to his dying daughter and for speaking those +cruel words. + + + + +IV + +"BLOOD" + +A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +A certain titled lady, great in the social world, was walking down the +village street between two ladies of the village, and their +conversation was about some person known to the two who had behaved in +the noblest manner in difficult circumstances, and the talk ran on +between the two like a duet, the great lady mostly silent and paying +but little attention to it. At length the subject was exhausted, and as +a proper conclusion to round the discourse off, one of them remarked: +"It is what I have always said,--there's nothing like blood!" Whereupon +the great person returned, "I don't agree with you: it strikes me you +two are always praising blood, and I think it perfectly horrid. The +very sight of a black pudding for instance turns me sick and makes me +want to be a vegetarian." + +The others smiled and laboriously explained that they were not praising +blood as an article of diet, but had used the word in its other and +partly metamorphical sense. They simply meant that as a rule persons of +good blood or of old families had better qualities and a higher +standard of conduct and action than others. + +The other listened and said nothing, for although of good blood herself +she was an out-and-out democrat, a burning Radical, burning bright in +the forests of the night of dark old England, and she considered that +all these lofty notions about old families and higher standards were +confined to those who knew little or nothing about the life of the +upper classes. + +She, the aristocrat, was wrong, and the two village ladies, members of +the middle class, were right, although they were without a sense of +humour and did not know that their distinguished friend was poking a +little fun at them when she spoke about black puddings. + +They were right, and it was never necessary for Herbert Spencer to tell +us that the world is right in looking for nobler motives and ideals, a +higher standard of conduct, better, sweeter manners, from those who are +highly placed than from the ruck of men; and as this higher, better +life, which is only possible in the leisured classes, is correlated +with the "aspects which please," the regular features and personal +beauty, the conclusion is the beauty and goodness or "inward +perfections" are correlated. + +All this is common, universal knowledge: to all men of all races and in +all parts of the world it comes as a shock to hear that a person of a +noble countenance has been guilty of an ignoble action. It is only the +ugly (and bad) who fondly cherish the delusion that beauty doesn't +matter, that it is only skin-deep and the rest of it. + +Here now arises a curious question, the subject of this little paper. +When a good old family, of good character, falls on evil days and is +eventually submerged in the classes beneath, we know that the aspects +which please, the good features and expression, will often persist for +long generations. Now this submerging process is perpetually going on +all over the land and so it has been for centuries. We notice from year +to year the rise from the ranks of numberless men to the highest +positions, who are our leaders and legislators, owners of great estates +who found great families and receive titles. But we do not notice the +corresponding decline and final disappearance of those who were highly +placed, since this is a more gradual process and has nothing +sensational about it. Yet the two processes are equally great and far- +reaching in their effects, and are like those two of Elaboration and +Degeneration which go on side by side for ever in nature, in the animal +world; and like darkness and light and heat and cold in the physical +world. + +As a fact, the country is full of the descendants of families that have +"died out." How long it takes to blot out or blur the finer features +and expression we do not know, and the time probably varies according +to the length of the period during which the family existed in its +higher phase. The question which confronts us is: Does the higher or +better nature, the "inward perfections" which are correlated with the +aspects which please, endure too, or do those who fall from their own +class degenerate morally to the level of the people they live and are +one with? + +It is a nice question. In Sussex, with Mr. M. A. Lower, who has written +about the vanished or submerged families of that county, for my guide +as to names, I have sought out persons of a very humble condition, some +who were shepherds and agricultural labourers, and have been surprised +at the good faces of many of them, the fine, even noble, features and +expression, and with these an exceptionally fine character. Labourers +on the lands that were once owned by their forefathers, and children of +long generations of labourers, yet still exhibiting the marks of their +aristocratic descent, the fine features and expression and the fine +moral qualities with which they are correlated. + +I will now give in illustration an old South American experience, an +example, which deeply impressed me at the time, of the sharp contrast +between a remote descendant of aristocrats and a child of the people in +a country where class distinctions have long ceased to exist. + +It happened that I went to stay at a cattle ranch for two or three +months one summer, in a part of the country new to me, where I knew +scarcely anyone. It was a good spot for my purpose, which was bird +study, and this wholly occupied my mind. By-and-by I heard about two +brothers, aged respectively twenty-three and twenty-four years, who +lived in the neighbourhood on a cattle ranch inherited from their +father, who had died young. They had no relations and were the last of +their name in that part of the country, and their grazing land was but +a remnant of the estate as it had been a century before. The name of +the brothers first attracted my attention, for it was that of an old +highly-distinguished family of Spain, two or three of whose adventurous +sons had gone to South America early in the seventeenth century to seek +their fortunes, and had settled there. The real name need not be +stated: I will call it de la Rosa, which will serve as well as another. +Knowing something of the ancient history of the family I became curious +to meet the brothers, just to see what sort of men they were who had +blue blood and yet lived, as their forbears had done for generations, +in the rough primitive manner of the gauchos--the cattle-tending +horsemen of the pampas. A little later I met the younger brother at a +house in the village a few miles from the ranch I was staying at. His +name was Cyril; the elder was Ambrose. He was certainly a very fine +fellow in appearance, tall and strongly built, with a high colour on +his open genial countenance and a smile always playing about the +corners of his rather large sensual mouth and in his greenish-hazel +eyes; but of the noble ancestry there was no faintest trace. His +features were those of the unameliorated peasant, as he may be seen in +any European country, and in this country, in Ireland particularly, but +with us he is not so common. It would seem that in England there is a +larger mixture of better blood, or that the improvements in features +due to improved conditions, physical and moral, have gone further. At +all events, one may look at a crowd anywhere in England and see only a +face here and there of the unmodified plebeian type. In a very large +majority the forehead will be less low and narrow, the nose less coarse +with less wide-spreading alae, the depression in the bridge not so +deep, the mouth not so large nor the jowl so heavy. These marks of the +unimproved adult are present in all infants at birth. Lady Clara Vere +de Vere's little bantling is in a sense not hers at all but the child +of some ugly antique race; of a Palaeolithic mother, let us say, who +lived before the last Glacial epoch and was not very much better- +looking herself than an orang-utan. It is only when the bony and +cartilaginous framework, with the muscular covering of the face, +becomes modified, and the wrinkled brown visage of the ancient pigmy +grows white and smooth, that it can be recognised as Lady Clara's own +offspring. The infant is ugly, and where the infantile features survive +in the adult the man is and must be ugly too, _unless the expression +is good_. Thus, we may know numbers of persons who would certainly +be ugly but for the redeeming expression; and this good expression, +which is "feature in the making," is, like good features, an "outward +sign of inward perfections." + +To continue with the description of my young gentleman of blue blood +and plebeian countenance, his expression not only saved him from +ugliness but made him singularly attractive, it revealed a good nature, +friendliness, love of his fellows, sincerity, and other pleasing +qualities. After meeting and conversing with him I was not surprised to +hear that he was universally liked, but regarding him critically I +could not say that his manner was perfect. He was too self-conscious, +too anxious to shine, too vain of his personal appearance, of his wit, +his rich dress, his position as a de la Rosa and a landowner. There was +even a vulgarity in him, such as one looks for in a person risen from +the lower orders but does not expect in the descendant of an ancient +and once lustrous family, however much decayed and impoverished, or +submerged. + +Shortly afterwards a gossipy old native estanciero, who lived close by, +while sitting in our kitchen sipping maté, began talking freely about +his neighbour's lives and characters, and I told him I had felt +interested in the brothers de la Rosa; partly on account of the great +affection these two had for one another, which was like an ideal +friendship; and in part too on account of the ancient history of the +family they came from. I had met one of them, I told him,--Cyril--a +very fine fellow, but in some respects he was not exactly like my +preconceived idea of a de la Rosa. + +"No, and he isn't one!" shouted the old fellow, with a great laugh; and +more than delighted at having a subject presented to him and at his +capture of a fresh listener, he proceeded to give me an intimate +history of the brothers. + +The father, who was a fine and a lovable man, married early, and his +young wife died in giving birth to their only child--Ambrose. He did +not marry again: he was exceedingly fond of his child and was both +father and mother to it and kept it with him until the boy was about +nine years old, and then determined to send him to Buenos Ayres to give +him a year's schooling. He himself had been taught to read as a small +boy, also to write a letter, but he did not think himself equal to +teach the boy, and so for a time they would have to be separated. + +Meanwhile the boy had picked up with Cyril, a little waif in rags, the +bastard child of a woman who had gone away and left him in infancy to +the mercy of others. He had been reared in the hovel of a poor gaucho +on the de la Rosa land, but the poor orphan, although the dirtiest, +raggedest, most mischievous little beggar in the land, was an +attractive child, intelligent, full of fun, and of an adventurous +spirit. Half his days were spent miles from home, wading through the +vast reedy and rushy marshes in the neighbourhood, hunting for birds' +nests. Little Ambrose, with no child companion at home, where his life +had been made too soft for him, was exceedingly happy with his wild +companion, and they were often absent together in the marshes for a +whole day, to the great anxiety of the father. But he could not +separate them, because he could not endure to see the misery of his boy +when they were forcibly kept apart. Nor could he forbid his child from +heaping gifts in food and clothes and toys or whatever he had, on his +little playmate. Nor did the trouble cease when the time came now for +the boy to be sent from home to learn his letters: his grief at the +prospect of being separated from his companion was too much for the +father, and he eventually sent them together to the city, where they +spent a year or two and came back as devoted to one another as when +they went away. From that time Cyril lived with them, and eventually de +la Rosa adopted him, and to make his son happy he left all he possessed +to be equally divided at his death between them. He was in bad health, +and died when Ambrose was fifteen and Cyril fourteen; from that time +they were their own masters and refused to have any division of their +inheritance but continued to live together; and had so continued for +upwards of ten years. + +Shortly after hearing this history I met the brothers together at a +house in the village, and a greater contrast between two men it would +be impossible to imagine. They were alike only in both being big, well- +shaped, handsome, and well-dressed men, but in their faces they had the +stamp of widely separated classes, and differed as much as if they had +belonged to distinct species. Cyril, with a coarse, high-coloured skin +and the primitive features I have described; Ambrose, with a pale dark +skin of a silky texture, an oval face and classic features--forehead, +nose, mouth and chin, and his ears small and lying against his head, +not sticking out like handles as in his brother; he had black hair and +grey eyes. It was the face of an aristocrat, of a man of blue blood, or +of good blood, of an ancient family; and in his manner too he was a +perfect contrast to his brother and friend. There was no trace of +vulgarity in him; he was not self-conscious, not anxious to shine; he +was modesty itself, and in his speech and manner and appearance he was, +to put it all in one word, a gentleman. + +Seeing them together I was more amazed than ever at the fact of their +extraordinary affection for each other, their perfect amity which had +lasted so many years without a rift, which nothing could break, as +people said, except a woman. + +But the woman who would break or shatter it had not yet appeared on the +horizon, nor do I know whether she ever appeared or not, since after +leaving the neighbourhood I heard no more of the brothers de la Rosa. + + + + +V + +A STORY OF LONG DESCENT + + +It was rudely borne in upon me that there was another side to the +shield. I was too much immersed in my own thoughts to note the peculiar +character of the small remote old-world town I came to in the +afternoon; next day was Sunday, and on my way to the church to attend +morning service, it struck me as one of the oldest-looking of the small +old towns I had stumbled upon in my rambles in this ancient land. There +was the wide vacant space where doubtless meetings had taken place for +a thousand years, and the steep narrow crooked medieval streets, and +here and there some stately building rising like a castle above the +humble cottage houses clustering round it as if for protection. Best of +all was the church with its noble tower where a peal of big bells were +just now flooding the whole place with their glorious noise. + +It was even better when, inside, I rose from my knees and looked about +me, to find myself in an ideal interior, the kind I love best; rich in +metal and glass and old carved wood, the ornaments which the good +Methody would scornfully put in the hay and stubble category, but which +owing to long use and associations have acquired for others a symbolic +and spiritual significance. The beauty and richness were all the +fresher for the dimness, and the light was dim because it filtered +through old oxydised stained glass of that unparalleled loveliness of +colour which time alone can impart. It was, excepting in vastness, like +a cathedral interior, and in some ways better than even the best of +these great fanes, wonderful as they are. Here, recalling them, one +could venture to criticise and name their several deficits:--a Wells +divided, a ponderous Ely, a vacant and cold Canterbury, a too light and +airy Salisbury, and so on even to Exeter, supreme in beauty, spoilt by +a monstrous organ in the wrong place. That wood and metal giant, +standing as a stone bridge to mock the eyes' efforts to dodge past it +and have sight of the exquisite choir beyond, and of an east window +through which the humble worshipper in the nave might hope, in some +rare mystical moment, to catch a glimpse of the far Heavenly country +beyond. + +I also noticed when looking round that it was an interior rich in +memorials to the long dead--old brasses and stone tablets on the walls, +and some large monuments. By chance the most imposing of the tombs was +so near my seat that with little difficulty I succeeded in reading and +committing to memory the whole contents of the very long inscription +cut in deep letters on the hard white stone. It was to the memory of +Sir Ranulph Damarell, who died in 1531, and was the head of a family +long settled in those parts, lord of the manor and many other things. +On more than one occasion he raised a troop from his own people and +commanded it himself, fighting for his king and country both in and out +of England. He was, moreover, a friend of the king and his counsellor, +and universally esteemed for his virtues and valour; greatly loved by +all his people, especially by the poor and suffering, on account of his +generosity and kindness of heart. + +A very glorious record, and by-and-by I believed every word of it. +For after reading the inscription I began to examine the effigy in +marble of the man himself which surmounted the tomb. He was lying +extended full length, six feet and five inches, his head on a low +pillow, his right hand grasping the handle of his drawn sword. The more +I looked at it, both during and after the service, the more convinced I +became that this was no mere conventional figure made by some lapidary +long after the subject's death, but was the work of an inspired artist, +an exact portrait of the man, even to his stature, and that he had +succeeded in giving to the countenance the very expression of the +living Sir Ranulph. And what it expressed was power and authority and, +with it, spirituality. A noble countenance with a fine forehead and +nose, the lower part of the face covered with the beard, and long hair +that fell to the shoulders. + +It produced a feeling such as I have whenever I stand before a certain +sixteenth-century portrait in the National Gallery: a sense or an +illusion of being in the presence of a living person with whom I am +engaged in a wordless conversation, and who is revealing his inmost +soul to me. And it is only the work of a genius that can affect you in +that way. + +Quitting the church I remembered with satisfaction that my hostess at +the quiet home-like family hotel where I had put up, was an educated +intelligent woman (good-looking, too), and that she would no doubt be +able to tell me something of the old history of the town and +particularly of Sir Ranulph. For this marble man, this knight of +ancient days, had taken possession of me and I could think of nothing +else. + +At luncheon we met as in a private house at our table with our nice +hostess at the head, and beside her three or four guests staying in the +house; a few day visitors to the town came in and joined us. Next to me +I had a young New Zealand officer whose story I had heard with painful +interest the previous evening. Like so many of the New Zealanders I had +met before, he was a splendid young fellow; but he had been terribly +gassed at the front and had been told by the doctors that he would not +be fit to go back even if the war lasted another year, and we were then +well through the third. The way the poison in his lungs affected him +was curious. He had his bad periods when for a fortnight or so he would +lie in his hospital suffering much and terribly depressed, and at such +time black spots would appear all over his chest and neck and arms so +that he would be spotted like a pard. Then the spots would fade and he +would rise apparently well, and being of an energetic disposition, was +allowed to do local war work. + +On the other side of the table facing us sat a lady and gentleman who +had come in together for luncheon. A slim lady of about thirty, with a +well-shaped but colourless face and very bright intelligent eyes. She +was a lively talker, but her companion, a short fat man with a round +apple face and cheeks of an intensely red colour and a black moustache, +was reticent, and when addressed directly replied in monosyllables. He +gave his undivided attention to the thing on his plate. + +The young officer talked to me of his country, describing with +enthusiasm his own district which he averred contained the finest +mountain and forest scenery in New Zealand. The lady sitting opposite +began to listen and soon cut in to say she knew it all well, and agreed +in all he said in praise of the scenery. She had spent weeks of delight +among those great forests and mountains. Was she then his country- +woman? he asked. Oh, no, she was English but had travelled extensively +and knew a great deal of New Zealand. And after exhausting this subject +the conversation, which had become general, drifted into others, and +presently we were all comparing notes about our experience of the late +great frost. Here I had my say about what had happened in the village I +had been staying in. The prolonged frost, I said, had killed all or +most of the birds in the open country round us, but in the village +itself a curious thing had happened to save the birds of the place. It +was a change of feeling in the people, who are by nature or training +great persecutors of birds. The sight of them dying of starvation had +aroused a sentiment of compassion, and all the villagers, men, women, +and children, even to the roughest bush-beating boys, started feeding +them, with the result that the birds quickly became tame and spent +their whole day flying from house to house, visiting every yard and +perching on the window-sills. While I was speaking the gentleman +opposite put down his knife and fork and gazed steadily at me with a +smile on his red-apple face, and when I concluded he exploded in a +half-suppressed sniggering laugh. + +It annoyed me, and I remarked rather sharply that I didn't see what +there was to laugh at in what I had told them. Then the lady with ready +tact interposed to say she had been deeply interested in my +experiences, and went on to tell what she had done to save the birds in +her own place; and her companion, taking it perhaps as a snub to +himself from her, picked up his knife and fork and went on with his +luncheon, and never opened his mouth to speak again. Or, at all events, +not till he had quite finished his meal. + +By-and-by, when I found an opportunity of speaking to our hostess, I +asked her who that charming lady was, and she told me she was a Miss +Somebody--I forget the name--a native of the town, also that she was a +great favourite there and was loved by everyone, rich and poor, and +that she had been a very hard worker ever since the war began, and had +inspired all the women in the place to work. + +"And who," I asked, "was the fellow who brought her in to lunch--a +relative or a lover?" + +"Oh, no, no relation and certainly not a lover. I doubt if she would +have him if he wanted her, in spite of his position." + +"I don't wonder at that--a perfect clown! And who is he?" + +"Oh, didn't you know! Sir Ranulph Damarell." + +"Good Lord!" I gasped. "That your great man--lord of the manor and what +not! He may bear the name, but I'm certain he's not a descendant of the +Sir Ranulph whose monument is in your church." + +"Oh, yes, he is," she replied. "I believe there has never been a break +in the line from father to son since that man's day. They were all +knights in the old time, but for the last two centuries or so have been +baronets." + +"Good Lord!" I exclaimed again. "And please tell me what is he----what +does he do? What is his distinction?" + +"His distinction for me," she smilingly replied, "is that he prefers +my house to have his luncheon in after Sunday morning service. He knows +where he can get good cooking. And as a rule he invites some friend in +the town to lunch with him, so that should there be any conversation at +table his guest can speak for both and leave him quite free to enjoy +his food." + +"And what part does he take in politics and public affairs--how does he +stand among your leading men?" + +Her answer was that he had never taken any part in politics--had never +been or desired to be in Parliament or in the County Council, and was +not even a J.P., nor had he done anything for his country during the +war. Nor was he a sportsman. He was simply a country gentleman, and +every morning he took a ride or walk, mainly she supposed to give him a +better appetite for his luncheon. And he was a good landlord to his +tenants and he was respected by everybody and no one had ever said a +word against him. + +There was nothing now for me to say except 'Good Lord!' so I said it +once more, and that made three times. + + + + +VI + +A SECOND STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +Shortly after writing the story of two brothers in the last part but +one I was reminded of another strange story of two brothers in that +same distant land, which I heard years ago and had forgotten. It now +came back to me in a newspaper from Miami, of all places in the world, +sent me by a correspondent in that town. He--Mr. J. L. Rodger--some +time ago when reading an autobiographical book of mine made the +discovery that we were natives of the same place in the Argentine +pampas--that the homes where we respectively first saw the light stood +but a couple of hours' ride on horseback apart. But we were not born on +the same day and so missed meeting in our youth; then left our homes, +and he, after wide wanderings, found an earthly paradise in Florida to +dwell in. So that now that we have in a sense met we have the Atlantic +between us. He has been contributing some recollections of the pampas +to the Miami paper, and told this story of two brothers among other +strange happenings. I tell it in my own way more briefly. + + * * * * * + +It begins in the early fifties and ends thirty years later in the early +eighties of last century. It then found its way into the Buenos Ayres +newspapers, and I heard it at the time but had utterly forgotten it +until this Florida paper came into my hand. + +In the fifties a Mr. Gilmour, a Scotch settler, had a sheep and cattle +ranch on the pampas far south of Buenos Ayres, near the Atlantic coast. +He lived there with his family, and one of the children, aged five, was +a bright active little fellow and was regarded with affection by one of +the hired native cattlemen, who taught the child to ride on a pony, and +taught him so well that even at that tender age the boy could follow +his teacher and guide at a fast gallop over the plain. One day Mr. +Gilmour fell out with the man on account of some dereliction of duty, +and after some hot words between them discharged him there and then. +The young fellow mounted his horse and rode off vowing vengeance, and +on that very day the child disappeared. The pony on which he had gone +out riding came home, and as it was supposed that the little boy had +been thrown or fallen off, a search was made all over the estate and +continued for days without result. Eventually some of the child's +clothing was found on the beach, and it was conjectured that the young +native had taken the child there and drowned him and left the clothes +to let the Gilmours know that he had had his revenge. But there was +room for doubt, as the body was never found, and they finally came to +think that the clothes had been left there to deceive them, and that as +the man had been so fond of the child he had carried him off. This +belief started them on a wider and longer quest; they invoked the aid +of the authorities all over the province; the loss of the child was +advertised and a large reward offered for his recovery and agents were +employed to look for him. In this search, which continued for years, +Mr. Gilmour spent a large part of his fortune, and eventually it had to +be dropped; and of all the family Mrs. Gilmour alone still believed +that her lost son was living, and still dreamed and hoped that she +would see him again before her life ended. + +One day the Gilmours entertained a traveller, a native gentleman, who, +as the custom was in my time on those great vacant plains where houses +were far apart, had ridden up to the gate at noon and asked for +hospitality. He was a man of education, a great traveller in the land, +and at table entertained them with an account of some of the strange +out-of-the-world places he had visited. + +Presently one of the sons of the house, a tall slim good-looking young +man of about thirty, came in, and saluting the stranger took his seat +at the table. Their guest started and seemed to be astonished at the +sight of him, and after the conversation was resumed he continued from +time to time to look with a puzzled questioning air at the young man. +Mrs. Gilmour had observed this in him and, with the thought of her lost +son ever in her mind, she became more and more agitated until, unable +longer to contain her excitement, she burst out: "O, Señor, why do you +look at my son in that way?--tell me if by chance you have not met +someone in your wanderings that was like him." + +Yes, he replied, he had met someone so like the young man before him +that it had almost produced the illusion of his being the same person; +that was why he had looked so searchingly at him. + +Then in reply to their eager questions he told them that it was an old +incident, that he had never spoken a word to the young man he had seen, +and that he had only seen him once for a few minutes. The reason of his +remembering him so well was that he had been struck by his appearance, +so strangely incongruous in the circumstances, and that had made him +look very sharply at him. Over two years had passed since, but it was +still distinct in his memory. He had come to a small frontier +settlement, a military outpost, on the extreme north-eastern border of +the Republic, and had seen the garrison turn out for exercise from the +fort. It was composed of the class of men one usually saw in these +border forts, men of the lowest type, miztiros and mulattos most of +them, criminals from the gaols condemned to serve in the frontier army +for their crimes. And in the midst of the low-browed, swarthy-faced, +ruffianly crew appeared the tall distinguished-looking young man with a +white skin, blue eyes and light hair--an amazing contrast! + +That was all he could tell them, but it was a clue, the first they had +had in thirty years, and when they told the story of the lost child to +their guest he was convinced that it was their son he had seen--there +could be no other explanation of the extraordinary resemblance between +the two young men. At the same time he warned them that the search +would be a difficult and probably a disappointing one, as these +frontier garrisons were frequently changed: also that many of the men +deserted whenever they got the chance, and that many of them got +killed, either in fight with the Indians, or among themselves over +their cards, as gambling was their only recreation. + +But the old hope, long dead in all of them except in the mother's +heart, was alive again, and the son, whose appearance had so strongly +attracted their guest's attention, at once made ready to go out on that +long journey. He went by way of Buenos Ayres where he was given a +passport by the War Office and a letter to the Commanding Officer to +discharge the blue-eyed soldier in the event of his being found and +proved to be a brother to the person in quest of him. But when he got +to the end of his journey on the confines of that vast country, after +travelling many weeks on horseback, it was only to hear that the men +who had formed the garrison two years before, had been long ordered +away to another province where they had probably been called to aid in +or suppress a revolutionary outbreak, and no certain news could be had +of them. He had to return alone but not to drop the search; it was but +the first of three great attempts he made, and the second was the most +disastrous, when in a remote Province and a lonely district he met with +a serious accident which kept him confined in some poor hovel for many +months, his money all spent, and with no means of communicating with +his people. He got back at last; and after recruiting his health and +providing himself with funds, and obtaining fresh help from the War +Office, he set out on his third venture; and at the end of three years +from the date of his first start, he succeeded in finding the object of +his search, still serving as a common soldier in the army. That they +were brothers there was no doubt in either of their minds, and together +they travelled home. + +And now the old father and mother had got their son back, and they told +him the story of the thirty years during which they had lamented his +loss, and of how at last they had succeeded in recovering him:--what +had he to tell them in return? It was a disappointing story. For, to +begin with, he had no recollection of his child life at home--no +faintest memory of mother or father or of the day when the sudden +violent change came and he was forcibly taken away. His earliest +recollection was of being taken about by someone--a man who owned him, +who was always at the cattle-estates where he worked, and how this man +treated him kindly until he was big enough to be set to work +shepherding sheep and driving cattle, and doing anything a boy could do +at any place they lived in, and that his owner and master then began to +be exacting and tyrannical, and treated him so badly that he eventually +ran away and never saw the man again. And from that time onward he +lived much the same kind of life as when with his master, constantly +going about from place to place, from province to province, and finally +he had for some unexplained reason been taken into the army. + +That was all--the story of his thirty years of wild horseback life told +in a few dry sentences! Could more have been expected! The mother had +expected more and would not cease to expect it. He was her lost one +found again, the child of her body who in his long absence had gotten a +second nature; but it was nothing but a colour, a garment, which would +wear thinner and thinner, and by-and-by reveal the old deeper +ineradicable nature beneath. So she imagined, and would take him out to +walk to be with him, to have him all to herself, to caress him, and +they would walk, she with an arm round his neck or waist; and when she +released him or whenever he could make his escape from the house, he +would go off to the quarters of the hired cattlemen and converse with +them. They were his people, and he was one of them in soul in spite of +his blue eyes, and like one of them he could lasso or break a horse and +throw a bull and put a brand on him, and kill a cow and skin it, or +roast it in its hide if it was wanted so; and he could do a hundred +other things, though he couldn't read a book, and I daresay he found it +a very misery to sit on a chair in the company of those who read in +books and spoke a language that was strange to him--the tongue he had +himself spoken as a child! + + + + +VII + +A THIRD STORY OF TWO BROTHERS + + +Stories of two brothers are common enough the world over--probably more +so than stories of young men who have fallen in love with their +grandmothers, and the main feature in most of them, as in the story I +have just told, is in the close resemblance of the two brothers, for on +that everything hinges. It is precisely the same in the one I am about + to relate, one I came upon a few years ago--just how many I wish not to +say, nor just where it happened except that it was in the west country; +and for the real names of people and places I have substituted +fictitious ones. For this too, like the last, is a true story. The +reader on finishing it will perhaps blush to think it true, but apart +from the moral aspect of the case it is, psychologically, a singularly +interesting one. + +One summer day I travelled by a public conveyance to Pollhampton, a +small rustic market town several miles distant from the nearest +railroad. My destination was not the town itself, but a lonely heath- +grown hill five miles further on, where I wished to find something that +grew and blossomed on it, and my first object on arrival was to secure +a riding horse or horse and trap to carry me there. I was told at once +that it was useless to look for such a thing, as it was market day and +everybody was fully occupied. That it was market day I already knew +very well, as the two or three main streets and wide market-place in +the middle of the town were full of sheep and cows and pigs and people +running about and much noise of shoutings and barking dogs. However, +the strange object of the strange-looking stranger in coming to the +town, interested some of the wild native boys, and they rushed about to +tell it, and in less than five minutes a nice neat-looking middle-aged +man stood at my elbow and said he had a good horse and trap and for +seven-and-sixpence would drive me to the hill, help me there to find +what I wanted, and bring me back in time to catch the conveyance. +Accordingly in a few minutes we were speeding out of the town drawn by +a fast-trotting horse. Fast trotters appeared to be common in these +parts, and as we went along the road from time to time a small cloud of +dust would become visible far ahead of us, and in two or three minutes +a farmer's trap would appear and rush past on its way to market, to +vanish behind us in two or three minutes more and be succeeded by +another and then others. By-and-by one came past driven by two young +women, one holding the reins, the other playing with the whip. They +were tall, dark, with black hair, and colourless faces, aged about +thirty, I imagined. As they flew by I remarked, "I would lay a +sovereign to a shilling that they are twins." "You'd lose your money-- +there's two or three years between them," said my driver. "Do you know +them--you didn't nod to them nor they to you?" I said. "I know them," +he returned, "as well as I know my own face when I look at myself in a +glass." On which I remarked that it was very wonderful. "'Tis only a +part of the wonder, and not the biggest part," he said. "You've seen +what they are like and how like they are, but if you passed a day with +them in the house you'd be able to tell one from the other; but if you +lived a year in the same house with their two brothers you'd never be +able to tell one from the other and be sure you were right. The +strangest thing is that the brothers who, like their sisters, have two +or three years between them, are not a bit like their sisters; they are +blue-eyed and seem a different race." + +That, I said, made it more wonderful still. A curiously symmetrical +family. Rather awkward for their neighbours, and people who had +business relations with them. + +"Yes--perhaps," he said, "but it served them very well on one occasion +to be so much alike." + +I began to smell a dramatic rat and begged him to tell me all about it. + +He said he didn't mind telling me. Their name was Prage--Antony and +Martin Prage, of Red Pit Farm, which they inherited from their father +and worked together. They were very united. One day one of them, when +riding six miles from home, met a girl coming along the road, and +stopped his horse to talk to her. She was a poor girl that worked at a +dairy farm near by, and lived with her mother, a poor old widow-woman, +in a cottage in the village. She was pretty, and the young man took a +liking to her and he persuaded her to come again to meet him on another +day at that spot; and there were many more meetings, and they were fond +of each other; but after she told him that something had happened to +her he never came again. When she made enquiries she found he had given +her a false name and address, and so she lost sight of him. Then her +child was born, and she lived with her mother. And you must know what +her life was--she and her old mother and her baby and nothing to keep +them. And though she was a shy ignorant girl she made up her mind to +look for him until she found him to make him pay for the child. She +said he had come on his horse so often to see her that he could not be +too far away, and every morning she would go off in search of him, and +she spent weeks and months tramping about the country, visiting all the +villages for many miles round looking for him. And one day in a small +village six miles from her home she caught sight of him galloping by on +his horse, and seeing a woman standing outside a cottage she ran to her +and asked who that young man was who had just ridden by. The woman told +her she thought it was Mr. Antony Prage of Red Pit Farm, about two +miles from the village. Then the girl came home and was advised what to +do. She had to do it all herself as there was no money to buy a lawyer, +so she had him brought to court and told her own story, and the judge +was very gentle with her and drew out all the particulars. But Mr. +Prage had got a lawyer, and when the girl had finished her story he got +up and put just one question to her. First he called on Antony Prage to +stand up in court, then he said to her, "Do you swear that the man +standing before you is the father of your child?" + +And just when he put that question Antony's brother Martin, who had +been sitting at the back of the court, got up, and coming forward stood +at his brother's side. The girl stared at the two, standing together, +too astonished to speak for some time. She looked from one to the other +and at last said, "I swear it is one of them." That, the lawyer said, +wasn't good enough. If she could not swear that Antony Prage, the man +she had brought into court, was the guilty person, then the case fell +to the ground. + +My informant finished his story and I asked "Was that then the end--was +nothing more done about it?" "No, nothing." "Did not the judge say it +was a mean dirty trick arranged between the brothers and the lawyer?" +"No, he didn't--he non-suited her and that was all." "And did not +Antony Prage, or both of them, go into the witness box and swear that +they were innocent of the charge?" "No, they never opened their mouths +in court. When the judge told the young woman that she had failed to +establish her case, they walked out smiling, and their friends came +round them and they went off together." "And these brothers, I suppose, +still live among you at their farm and are regarded as good respectable +young men, and go to chapel on Sundays, and by-and-by will probably +marry nice respectable Methodist girls, and the girls' friends will +congratulate them on making such good matches." + +"Oh, no doubt; one has been married some time and his wife has got a +baby; the other one will be married before long." + +"And what do you think about it all?" + +"I've told you what happened because the facts came out in court and +are known to everyone. What I think about it is what I think, and I've +no call to tell that." + +"Oh, very well!" I said, vexed at his noncommittal attitude. Then I +looked at him, but his face revealed nothing; he was just the man with +a quiet manner and low voice who had put himself at my service and +engaged to drive me five miles out to a hill, help me to find what I +wanted and bring me back in time to catch the conveyance to my town, +all for the surprisingly moderate sum of seven-and-sixpence. But he had +told me the story of the two brothers; and besides, in spite of our +faces being masks, if one make them so, mind converses with mind in +some way the psychologists have not yet found out, and I knew that in +his heart of hearts he regarded those two respectable members of the +Pollhampton community much as I did. + + + + +VIII + +THE TWO WHITE HOUSES: A MEMORY + + +There's no connection--not the slightest--between this two and the +other twos; it was nevertheless the telling of the stories of the +brothers which brought back to me this ancient memory of two houses. +Nor were the two houses connected in any way, except that they were +both white, situated on the same road, on the same side of it; also +both stood a little way back from the road in grounds beautifully +shaded with old trees. It was the great southern road which leads from +the city of Buenos Ayres, the Argentine capital, to the vast level +cattle-country of the pampas, where I was born and bred. Naturally it +was a tremendously exciting adventure to a child's mind to come from +these immense open plains, where one lived in rude surroundings with +the semi-barbarous gauchos for only neighbours, to a great civilised +town full of people and of things strange and beautiful to see. And to +touch and taste. + +Thus it happened that when I, a child, with my brothers and sisters, +were taken to visit the town we would become more and more excited as +we approached it at the end of a long journey, which usually took us +two days, at all we saw--ox-carts and carriages and men on horseback on +the wide hot dusty road, and the houses and groves and gardens on +either side.... It was thus that we became acquainted with the two +white houses, and were attracted to them because in their whiteness and +green shade they looked beautiful to us and cool and restful, and we +wished we could live in them. + +They were well outside of the town, the nearest being about two miles +from its old south wall and fortifications, the other one a little over +two miles further out. The last being the farthest out was the first +one we came to on our journeys to the city; it was a somewhat singular- +looking building with a verandah supported by pillars painted green, +and it had a high turret. And near it was a large dovecot with a cloud +of pigeons usually flying about it, and we came to calling it Dovecot +House. The second house was plainer in form but was not without a +peculiar distinction in its large wrought-iron front gate with white +pillars on each side, and in front of each pillar a large cannon +planted postwise in the earth. + +This we called Cannon House, but who lived in these two houses none +could tell us. + +When I was old enough to ride as well as any grown-up, and my +occasional visits to town were made on horseback, I once had three +young men for my companions, the oldest about twenty-eight, the two not +more than nineteen and twenty-one respectively. I was eagerly looking +out for the first white house, and when we were coming to it I cried +out, "Now we are coming to Dovecot House, let's go slow and look at +it." + +Without a word they all pulled up, and for some minutes we sat silently +gazing at the house. Then the eldest of the three said that if he was a +rich man he would buy the house and pass the rest of his life very +happily in it and in the shade of its old trees. + +In what, the others asked, would his happiness consist, since a +rational being must have something besides a mere shelter from the +storm and a tree to shade him from the sun to be happy? + +He answered that after securing the house he would range the whole +country in search of the most beautiful woman in it, and that when he +had found and made her his wife he would spend his days and years in +adoring her for her beauty and charm. + +His two young companions laughed scornfully. Then one of them--the +younger--said that he too if wealthy would buy the house, as he had not +seen another so well suited for the life he would like to live. A life +spent with books! He would send to Europe for all the books he desired +to read and would fill the house with them; and he would spend his days +in the house or in the shade of the trees, reading every day from +morning to night undisturbed by traffic and politics and revolutions in +the land, and by happenings all the world over. + +He too was well laughed at; then the last of the three said he didn't +care for either of their ideals. He liked wine best, and if he had +great wealth he would buy the house and send to Europe--O not for books +nor for a beautiful wife! but for wine--wines of all the choicest kinds +in bottle and casks--and fill the cellars with it. And his choice wines +would bring choice spirits to help him drink them; and then in the +shade of the old trees they would have their table and sit over their +wine--the merriest, wittiest, wisest, most eloquent gathering in all +the land. + +The others in their turn laughed at him, despising his ideal, and then +we set off once more. + +They had not thought to put the question to me, because I was only a +boy while they were grown men; but I had listened with such intense +interest to that colloquy that when I recall the scene now I can see +the very expressions of their sun-burnt faces and listen to the very +sound of their speech and laughter. For they were all intimately known +to me and I knew they were telling openly just what their several +notions of a happy life were, caring nothing for the laughter of the +others. I was mightily pleased that they, too, had felt the attractions +of my Dovecot House as a place where a man, whatsoever his individual +taste, might find a happy abiding-place. + +Time rolled on, as the slow-going old storybooks written before we were +born used to say, and I still preserved the old habit of pulling up my +horse on coming abreast of each one of the two houses on every journey +to and from town. Then one afternoon when walking my horse past the +Cannon House I saw an old man dressed in black with snow-white hair and +side-whiskers in the old, old style, and an ashen grey face, standing +motionless by the side of one of the guns and gazing out at the +distance. His eyes were blue--the dim weary blue of a tired old man's +eyes, and he appeared not to see me as I walked slowly by him within a +few yards, but to be gazing at something beyond, very far away. I took +him to be a resident, perhaps the owner of the house, and this was the +first time I had seen any person there. So strongly did the sight of +that old man impress me that I could not get his image out of my mind, +and I spoke to those I knew in the city, and before long I met with one +who was able to satisfy my curiosity about him. The old man I had seen, +he told me, was Admiral Brown, an Englishman who many years before had +taken service with the Dictator Rosas at the time when Rosas was at war +with the neighbouring Republic of Uruguay, and had laid siege to the +city of Montevideo. Garibaldi, who was spending the years of his exile +from Italy in South America, fighting as usual wherever there was any +fighting to be had, flew to the help of Uruguay, and having acquired +great fame as a sea-fighter was placed in command of the naval forces, +such as they were, of the little Republic. But Brown was a better +fighter, and he soon captured and destroyed his enemies' ships, +Garibaldi himself escaping shortly afterwards to come back to the old +world to renew the old fight against Austria. + +When old Admiral Brown retired he built this house, or had it given to +him by Rosas who, I was told, had a great affection for him, and he +then had the two cannons he had taken from one of the captured ships +planted at his front gate. + +Shortly after that one glimpse I had had of the old Admiral, he died. +And I think that when I saw him standing at his gate gazing past me at +the distance, he was looking out for an expected messenger--a figure in +black moving swiftly towards him with a drawn sword in his hand. + +Oddly enough it was but a short time after seeing the old man at his +gate that I had my first sight of an inmate of Dovecot House. While +slowly riding by it I saw a lady come out from the front door--young, +good-looking, very pale and dressed in the deepest mourning. She had a +bowl in her hand, and going a little distance from the house she called +the pigeons and down they flew in a crowd to her feet to be fed. + +A few months later when passing I saw this same lady once more, and on +this occasion she was coming to the gate as I rode by, and I saw her +closely, for she turned and looked at me, not unseeingly like the old +man, and her face was perfectly colourless and her large dark eyes the +most sorrowful I had ever seen. + +That was my last sight of her, nor did I see any human creature about +the house after that for about two years. Then one hot summer day I +caught sight of three persons who looked like servants or caretakers, +sitting in the shade some distance from the house and drinking maté, +the tea of the country. + +Here, thought I, is an opportunity not to be lost--one long waited for! +Leaving my horse at the gate I went to them, and addressing a large +woman, the most important-looking person of the three, as politely as I +could, I said I was not, as they perhaps imagined, a long absent friend +or relation returned from the wars, but a perfect stranger, a traveller +on the great south road; that I was hot and thirsty, and the sight of +them refreshing themselves in that pleasant shade had tempted me to +intrude myself upon them. + +She received me with smiles and a torrent of welcoming words, and the +expected invitation to sit down and drink maté with them. She was a +very large woman, very fat and very dark, of that reddish or mahogany +colour which, taken with the black eyes and coarse black hair, is +commonly seen in persons of mixed blood--Iberian with aboriginal. I +took her age to be about fifty years. And she was as voluble as she was +fat and dark, and poured out such a stream of talk on or rather over me +like warm greasy water, and so forcing me to keep my eyes on her, that +it was almost impossible to give any attention to the other two. One +was her husband, Spanish and dark too, but with a different sort of +darkness; a skeleton of a man with a bony ghastly face, in old frayed +workman's clothes and dust-covered boots; his hands very grimy. And the +third person was their daughter, as they called her, a girl of fifteen +with a clear white and pink skin, regular features, beautiful grey eyes +and light brown hair. A perfect type of a nice looking English girl +such as one finds in any village, in almost any cottage, in the +Midlands or anywhere else in this island. + +These two were silent, but at length, in one of the fat woman's brief +pauses, the girl spoke, in a Spanish in which one could detect no trace +of a foreign accent, in a low and pleasing voice, only to say something +about the garden. She was strangely earnest and appeared anxious to +impress on them that it was necessary to have certain beds of +vegetables they cultivated watered that very day lest they should be +lost owing to the heat and dryness. The man grunted and the woman said +yes, yes, yes, a dozen times. Then the girl left us, going back to her +garden, and the fat woman went on talking to me. I tried once or twice +to get her to tell me about her daughter, as she called her, but she +would not respond--she would at once go off into other subjects. Then I +tried something else and told her of my sight of a handsome young lady +in mourning I had once seen there feeding the pigeons. And now she +responded readily enough and told me the whole story of the lady. + +She belonged to a good and very wealthy family of the city and was an +only child, and lost both parents when very young. She was a very +pretty girl of a joyous nature and a great favourite in society. At the +age of sixteen she became engaged to a young man who was also of a good +and wealthy family. After becoming engaged to her he went to the war in +Paraguay, and after an absence of two years, during which he had +distinguished himself in the field and won his captaincy, he returned +to marry her. She was at her own house waiting in joyful excitement to +receive him when his carriage arrived, and she flew to the door to +welcome him. He, seeing her, jumped out and came running to her with +his arms out to embrace her, but when still three or four yards distant +suddenly stopped short and throwing up his arms fell to the earth a +dead man. The shock of his death at this moment of supreme bliss for +both of them was more than she could bear; it brought on a fever of the +brain and it was feared that if she ever recovered it would be with a +shattered mind. But it was not so: she got well and her reason was not +lost, but she was changed into a different being from the happy girl of +other days--fond of society, of dress, of pleasures; full of life and +laughter. "Now she is sadness itself and will continue to wear mourning +for the rest of her life, and prefers always to be alone. This old +house, built by her grandfather when there were few houses in this +suburb, she once liked to visit, but since her loss she has been but +once in it. That was when you saw her, when she came to spend a few +months in solitude. She would not even allow me to come and sit and +talk to her! Think of that! She thinks nothing of her possessions and +allows us to live here rent free, to grow vegetables and raise poultry +for the market. That is what we do for a living; my husband and our +little daughter attend to these things out of doors, and I look after +the house." + +When she got to the end of this long relation I rose and thanked her +for her hospitality and made my escape. But the mystery of the white, +gentle-voiced, grey-eyed girl haunted me, and from that time I made it +my custom to call at Dovecot House on every journey to town, always to +be received with open arms, so to speak, by the great fat woman. But +she always baffled me. The girl was usually to be seen, always the +same, quiet, unsmiling, silent, or else speaking in Spanish in that +gentle un-Spanish voice of some practical matter about the garden, the +poultry, and so on. I was not in love with her, but extremely curious +to know who she really was and how she came to be a "daughter," or in +the hands of these unlikely people. For it was really one of the +strangest things I had ever come across up to that early period of my +life. Since then I have met with even more curious things; but being +then of an age when strange things have a great fascination I was bent +on getting to the bottom of the mystery. However, it was in vain; +doubtless the fat woman suspected my motives in calling on her and +sipping maté and listening to her talk, for whenever I mentioned her +daughter in a tentative way, hoping it would lead to talk on that +subject, she quickly and skilfully changed it for some other subject. +And at last seeing that I was wasting my time, I dropped calling, but +to this day I am rather sorry I allowed myself to be defeated. + +And now once more I must return for the space of two or three pages to +the _brother_ white house before saying good-bye to both. + +For it had come to pass that while my investigations into the mystery +of Dovecot House were in progress I had by chance got my foot in Cannon +House. And this is how it happened. When the old Admiral whose ghostly +image haunted me had received his message and vanished from this scene, +the house was sold and was bought by an Englishman, an old resident in +the town, who for thirty years had been toiling and moiling in a +business of some kind until he had built a small fortune. It then +occurred to him, or more likely his wife and daughters suggested it, +that it was time to get a little way out of the hurly-burly, and they +accordingly came to live at the house. There were two daughters, tall, +slim, graceful girls, one, the elder, dark and pale like her old +Cornish father, with black hair; the other a blonde with a rose colour +and of a lively merry disposition. These girls happened to be friends +of my sisters, and so it fell out that I too became an occasional +visitor to Cannon House. + +Then a strange thing happened, which made it a sad and anxious home to +the inmates for many long months, running to nigh on two years. They +were fond of riding, and one afternoon when there was no visitor or any +person to accompany them, the youngest girl said she would have her +ride and ordered her horse to be brought from the paddock and saddled. +Her elder sister, who was of a somewhat timid disposition, tried to +dissuade her from riding out alone on the highway. She replied that she +would just have one little gallop--a mile or so--and then come back. +Her sister, still anxious, followed her out of the gate and said she +would wait there for her return. Half a mile or so from the gate the +horse, a high-spirited animal, took fright at something and bolted with +its rider. The sister waiting and looking out saw them coming, the +horse at a furious pace, the rider clinging for dear life to the pummel +of the saddle. It flashed on her mind that unless the horse could be +stopped before he came crashing through the gate her sister would be +killed, and running out to a distance of thirty yards from the gate she +jumped at the horse's head as it came rushing by and succeeded in +grasping the reins, and holding fast to them she was dragged to within +two or three yards of the gate, when the horse was brought to a +standstill, whereupon her grasp relaxed and she fell to the ground in a +dead faint. + +She had done a marvellous thing--almost incredible. I have had horses +bolt with me and have seen horses bolt with others many times; and +every person who has seen such a thing and who knows a horse--its power +and the blind mad terror it is seized with on occasions--will agree +with me that it is only at the risk of his life that even a strong and +agile man can attempt to stop a bolting horse. We all said that she had +saved her sister's life and were lost in admiration of her deed, but +presently it seemed that she would pay for it with her own life. She +recovered from the faint, but from that day began a decline, until in +about three months' time she appeared to me more like a ghost than a +being of flesh and blood. She had not strength to cross the rooms--all +her strength and life were dying out of her because of that one +unnatural, almost supernatural, act. She passed the days lying on a +couch, speaking, when obliged to speak, in a whisper, her eyes sunk, +her face white even to the lips, seeming the whiter for the mass of +loose raven-black hair in which it was set. There were few doctors, +English and native, who were not first and last called into +consultation over the case, and still no benefit, no return to life, +but ever the slow drifting towards the end. And at the last +consultation of all this happened. When it was over and the doctors +were asked into a room where refreshments were placed for them, the +father of the girl spoke aside to a young doctor, a stranger to him, +and begged him to tell him truly if there was no hope. The other +replied that he should not lose all hope if--then he paused, and when +he spoke again it was to say, "I am, you see, a very young man, a +beginner in the profession, with little experience, and hardly know why +I am called here to consult with these older and wiser men; and +naturally my small voice received but little attention." + +By-and-by, when they had all gone except the family doctor, he informed +the distracted parents that it was impossible to save their daughter's +life. The father cried out that he would not lose all hope and would +call in another man, whereupon old Dr. Wormwood seized his brass-headed +cane and took himself off in a huff. The young stranger was then called +in. The patient had been given arsenic with other drugs; he gave her +arsenic only, increasing the doses enormously, until she was given as +much in a day or two as would have killed a healthy person; with milk +for only nourishment. As a result, in a week or so the decline was +stayed, and in that condition, very near to dissolution, she continued +some weeks, and then slowly, imperceptibly, began to mend. But so slow +was the improvement that it went on for months before she was well. It +was a complete recovery; she had got back all her old strength and joy +in life, and went again for a ride every day with her sister. + +Not very long afterwards both sisters were married, and my visits to +Cannon House ceased automatically. + +Now the two White Houses are but a memory, revived for a brief period +to vanish quickly again into oblivion, a something seen long ago and +far away in another hemisphere; and they are like two white cliffs seen +in passing from the ship at the beginning of its voyage--gazed at with +a strange interest as I passed them, and as they receded from me, until +they faded from sight in the distance. + + + + +IX + +DANDY A STORY OF A DOG + + +He was of mixed breed, and was supposed to have a strain of Dandy +Dinmont blood which gave him his name. A big ungainly animal with a +rough shaggy coat of blue-grey hair and white on his neck and clumsy +paws. He looked like a Sussex sheep-dog with legs reduced to half their +proper length. He was, when I first knew him, getting old and +increasingly deaf and dim of sight, otherwise in the best of health and +spirits, or at all events very good-tempered. + +Until I knew Dandy I had always supposed that the story of Ludlam's dog +was pure invention, and I daresay that is the general opinion about it; +but Dandy made me reconsider the subject, and eventually I came to +believe that Ludlam's dog did exist once upon a time, centuries ago +perhaps, and that if he had been the laziest dog in the world Dandy was +not far behind him in that respect. It is true he did not lean his head +against a wall to bark; he exhibited his laziness in other ways. He +barked often, though never at strangers; he welcomed every visitor, +even the tax-collector, with tail-waggings and a smile. He spent a good +deal of his time in the large kitchen, where he had a sofa to sleep on, +and when the two cats of the house wanted an hour's rest they would +coil themselves up on Dandy's broad shaggy side, preferring that bed to +cushion or rug. They were like a warm blanket over him, and it was a +sort of mutual benefit society. After an hour's sleep Dandy would go +out for a short constitutional as far as the neighbouring thoroughfare, +where he would blunder against people, wag his tail to everybody, and +then come back. He had six or eight or more outings each day, and, +owing to doors and gates being closed and to his lazy disposition, he +had much trouble in getting out and in. First he would sit down in the +hall and bark, bark, bark, until some one would come to open the door +for him, whereupon he would slowly waddle down the garden path, and if +he found the gate closed he would again sit down and start barking. And +the bark, bark would go on until some one came to let him out. But if +after he had barked about twenty or thirty times no one came, he would +deliberately open the gate himself, which he could do perfectly well, +and let himself out. In twenty minutes or so he would be back at the +gate and barking for admission once more, and finally, if no one paid +any attention, letting himself in. + +Dandy always had something to eat at mealtimes, but he too liked a +snack between meals once or twice a day. The dog-biscuits were kept in +an open box on the lower dresser shelf, so that he could get one +"whenever he felt so disposed," but he didn't like the trouble this +arrangement gave him, so he would sit down and start barking, and as he +had a bark which was both deep and loud, after it had been repeated a +dozen times at intervals of five seconds, any person who happened to be +in or near the kitchen was glad to give him his biscuit for the sake of +peace and quietness. If no one gave it him, he would then take it out +himself and eat it. + +Now it came to pass that during the last year of the war dog-biscuits, +like many other articles of food for man and beast, grew scarce, and +were finally not to be had at all. At all events, that was what +happened in Dandy's town of Penzance. He missed his biscuits greatly +and often reminded us of it by barking; then, lest we should think he +was barking about something else, he would go and sniff and paw at the +empty box. He perhaps thought it was pure forgetfulness on the part of +those of the house who went every morning to do the marketing and had +fallen into the habit of returning without any dog-biscuits in the +basket. One day during that last winter of scarcity and anxiety I went +to the kitchen and found the floor strewn all over with the fragments +of Dandy's biscuit-box. Dandy himself had done it; he had dragged the +box from its place out into the middle of the floor, and then +deliberately set himself to bite and tear it into small pieces and +scatter them about. He was caught at it just as he was finishing the +job, and the kindly person who surprised him in the act suggested that +the reason of his breaking up the box in that way that he got something +of the biscuit flavour by biting the pieces. My own theory was that as +the box was there to hold biscuits and now held none, he had come to +regard it as useless--as having lost its function, so to speak--also +that its presence there was an insult to his intelligence, a constant +temptation to make a fool of himself by visiting it half a dozen times +a day only to find it empty as usual. Better, then, to get rid of it +altogether, and no doubt when he did it he put a little temper into the +business! + +Dandy, from the time I first knew him, was strictly teetotal, but in +former and distant days he had been rather fond of his glass. If a +person held up a glass of beer before him, I was told, he wagged his +tail in joyful anticipation, and a little beer was always given him at +mealtime. Then he had an experience, which, after a little hesitation, +I have thought it best to relate, as it is perhaps the most curious +incident in Dandy's somewhat uneventful life. + +One day Dandy, who after the manner of his kind, had attached himself +to the person who was always willing to take him out for a stroll, +followed his friend to a neighbouring public-house, where the said +friend had to discuss some business matter with the landlord. They went +into the taproom, and Dandy, finding that the business was going to be +a rather long affair, settled himself down to have a nap. Now it +chanced that a barrel of beer which had just been broached had a leaky +tap, and the landlord had set a basin on the floor to catch the waste. +Dandy, waking from his nap and hearing the trickling sound, got up, and +going to the basin quenched his thirst, after which he resumed his nap. +By-and-by he woke again and had a second drink, and altogether he woke +and had a drink five or six times; then, the business being concluded, +they went out together, but no sooner were they in the fresh air than +Dandy began to exhibit signs of inebriation. He swerved from side to +side, colliding with the passers-by, and finally fell off the pavement +into the swift stream of water which at that point runs in the gutter +at one side of the street. Getting out of the water, he started again, +trying to keep close to the wall to save himself from another ducking. +People looked curiously at him, and by-and-by they began to ask what +the matter was. "Is your dog going to have a fit--or what is it?" they +asked. Dandy's friend said he didn't know; something was the matter no +doubt, and he would take him home as quickly as possible and see to it. + +When they finally got to the house Dandy staggered to his sofa, and +succeeded in climbing on to it and, throwing himself on his cushion, +went fast asleep, and slept on without a break until the following +morning. Then he rose quite refreshed and appeared to have forgotten +all about it; but that day when at dinner-time some one said "Dandy" +and held up a glass of beer, instead of wagging his tail as usual he +dropped it between his legs and turned away in evident disgust. And +from that time onward he would never touch it with his tongue, and it +was plain that when they tried to tempt him, setting beer before him +and smilingly inviting him to drink, he knew they were mocking him, and +before turning away he would emit a low growl and show his teeth. It +was the one thing that put him out and would make him angry with his +friends and life companions. + +I should not have related this incident if Dandy had been alive. But he +is no longer with us. He was old--half-way between fifteen and sixteen: +it seemed as though he had waited to see the end of the war, since no +sooner was the armistice proclaimed than he began to decline rapidly. +Gone deaf and blind, he still insisted on taking several +constitutionals every day, and would bark as usual at the gate, and if +no one came to let him out or admit him, he would open it for himself +as before. This went on till January, 1919, when some of the boys he +knew were coming back to Penzance and to the house. Then he established +himself on his sofa, and we knew that his end was near, for there he +would sleep all day and all night, declining food. It is customary in +this country to chloroform a dog and give him a dose of strychnine to +"put him out of his misery." But it was not necessary in this case, as +he was not in misery; not a groan did he ever emit, waking or sleeping; +and if you put a hand on him he would look up and wag his tail just to +let you know that it was well with him. And in his sleep he passed +away--a perfect case of euthanasia--and was buried in the large garden +near the second apple-tree. + + + + +X + +THE SAMPHIRE GATHERER + + +At sunset, when the strong wind from the sea was beginning to feel +cold, I stood on the top of the sandhill looking down at an old woman +hurrying about over the low damp ground beneath--a bit of sea-flat +divided from the sea by the ridge of sand; and I wondered at her, +because her figure was that of a feeble old woman, yet she moved--I had +almost said flitted--over that damp level ground in a surprisingly +swift light manner, pausing at intervals to stoop and gather something +from the surface. But I couldn't see her distinctly enough to satisfy +myself: the sun was sinking below the horizon, and that dimness in the +air and coldness in the wind at day's decline, when the year too was +declining, made all objects look dim. Going down to her I found that +she was old, with thin grey hair on an uncovered head, a lean dark face +with regular features and grey eyes that were not old and looked +steadily at mine, affecting me with a sudden mysterious sadness. For +they were unsmiling eyes and themselves expressed an unutterable +sadness, as it appeared to me at the first swift glance; or perhaps not +that, as it presently seemed, but a shadowy something which sadness had +left in them, when all pleasure and all interest in life forsook her, +with all affections, and she no longer cherished either memories or +hopes. This may be nothing but conjecture or fancy, but if she had been +a visitor from another world she could not have seemed more strange to +me. + +I asked her what she was doing there so late in the day, and she +answered in a quiet even voice which had a shadow in it too, that she +was gathering samphire of that kind which grows on the flat saltings +and has a dull green leek-like fleshy leaf. At this season, she +informed me, it was fit for gathering to pickle and put by for use +during the year. She carried a pail to put it in, and a table-knife in +her hand to dig the plants up by the roots, and she also had an old +sack in which she put every dry stick and chip of wood she came across. +She added that she had gathered samphire at this same spot every August +end for very many years. + +I prolonged the conversation, questioning her and listening with +affected interest to her mechanical answers, while trying to fathom +those unsmiling, unearthly eyes that looked so steadily at mine. + +And presently, as we talked, a babble of human voices reached our ears, +and half turning we saw the crowd, or rather procession, of golfers +coming from the golf-house by the links where they had been drinking +tea. Ladies and gentlemen players, forty or more of them, following in +a loose line, in couples and small groups, on their way to the Golfers' +Hotel, a little further up the coast; a remarkably good-looking lot +with well-fed happy faces, well-dressed and in a merry mood, all freely +talking and laughing. Some were staying at the hotel, and for the +others a score or so of motor-cars were standing before its gates to +take them inland to their homes, or to houses where they were staying. + +We suspended the conversation while they were passing us, within three +yards of where we stood, and as they passed the story of the links +where they had been amusing themselves since luncheon-time came into my +mind. The land there was owned by an old, an ancient, family; they had +occupied it, so it is said, since the Conquest; but the head of the +house was now poor, having no house property in London, no coal mines +in Wales, no income from any other source than the land, the twenty or +thirty thousand acres let for farming. Even so he would not have been +poor, strictly speaking, but for the sons, who preferred a life of +pleasure in town, where they probably had private establishments of +their own. At all events they kept race-horses, and had their cars, and +lived in the best clubs, and year by year the patient old father was +called upon to discharge their debts of honour. It was a painful +position for so estimable a man to be placed in, and he was much pitied +by his friends and neighbours, who regarded him as a worthy +representative of the best and oldest family in the county. But he was +compelled to do what he could to make both ends meet, and one of the +little things he did was to establish golf-links over a mile or so of +sand-hills, lying between the ancient coast village and the sea, and to +build and run a Golfers' Hotel in order to attract visitors from all +parts. In this way, incidentally, the villagers were cut off from their +old direct way to the sea and deprived of those barren dunes, which +were their open space and recreation ground and had stood them in the +place of a common for long centuries. They were warned off and told +that they must use a path to the beach which took them over half a mile +from the village. And they had been very humble and obedient and had +made no complaint. Indeed, the agent had assured them that they had +every reason to be grateful to the overlord, since in return for that +trivial inconvenience they had been put to they would have the golfers +there, and there would be employment for some of the village boys as +caddies. Nevertheless, I had discovered that they were not grateful but +considered that an injustice had been done to them, and it rankled in +their hearts. + +I remembered all this while the golfers were streaming by, and wondered +if this poor woman did not, like her fellow-villagers, cherish a secret +bitterness against those who had deprived them of the use of the dunes +where for generations they had been accustomed to walk or sit or lie on +the loose yellow sands among the barren grasses, and had also cut off +their direct way to the sea where they went daily in search of bits of +firewood and whatever else the waves threw up which would be a help to +them in their poor lives. + +If it be so, I thought, some change will surely come into those +unchanging eyes at the sight of all these merry, happy golfers on their +way to their hotel and their cars and luxurious homes. But though I +watched her face closely there was no change, no faintest trace of ill- +feeling or feeling of any kind; only that same shadow which had been +there was there still, and her fixed eyes were like those of a captive +bird or animal, that gaze at us, yet seem not to see us but to look +through and beyond us. And it was the same when they had all gone by +and we finished our talk and I put money in her hand; she thanked me +without a smile, in the same quiet even tone of voice in which she had +replied to my question about the samphire. + +I went up once more to the top of the ridge, and looking down saw her +again as I had seen her at first, only dimmer, swiftly, lightly moving +or flitting moth-like or ghost-like over the low flat salting, still +gathering samphire in the cold wind, and the thought that came to me +was that I was looking at and had been interviewing a being that was +very like a ghost, or in any case a soul, a something which could not +be described, like certain atmospheric effects in earth and water and +sky which are ignored by the landscape painter. To protect himself he +cultivates what is called the "sloth of the eye": he thrusts his +fingers into his ears so to speak, not to hear that mocking voice that +follows and mocks him with his miserable limitations. He who seeks to +convey his impressions with a pen is almost as badly off: the most he +can do in such instances as the one related, is to endeavour to convey +the emotion evoked by what he has witnessed. + +Let me then take the case of the man who has trained his eyes, or +rather whose vision has unconsciously trained itself, to look at every +face he meets, to find in most cases something, however little, of the +person's inner life. Such a man could hardly walk the length of the +Strand and Fleet-street or of Oxford-street without being startled at +the sight of a face which haunts him with its tragedy, its mystery, the +strange things it has half revealed. But it does not haunt him long; +another arresting face follows, and then another, and the impressions +all fade and vanish from the memory in a little while. But from time to +time, at long intervals, once perhaps in a lustrum, he will encounter a +face that will not cease to haunt him, whose vivid impression will not +fade for years. It was a face and eyes of that kind which I met in the +samphire gatherer on that cold evening; but the mystery of it is a +mystery still. + + + + +XI + +A SURREY VILLAGE + + +Through the scattered village of Churt, in its deepest part, runs a +clear stream, broad in places, where it spreads over the road-way and +is so shallow that the big carthorses are scarce wetted above their +fetlocks in crossing; in other parts narrow enough for a man to jump +over, yet deep enough for the trout to hide in. And which is the +prettiest one finds it hard to say--the wide splashy places where the +cattle come to drink, and the real cow and the illusory inverted cow +beneath it are to be seen touching their lips; or where the oaks and +ashes and elms stretch and mingle their horizontal branches;--where +there is a green leafy canopy above and its green reflection below with +the glassy current midway between. On one side the stream is Surrey, on +the other Hampshire. Where the two counties meet there is a vast extent +of heath-land--brown desolate moors and hills so dark as to look almost +black. + +It is wild, and its wildness is of that kind which comes of a barren +soil. It is a country best appreciated by those who, rich or poor, take +life easily, who love all aspects of nature, all weathers, and above +everything the liberty of wide horizons. To others the cry of "Back to +the land" would have a somewhat dreary and mocking sound in such a +place, like that curious cry, half laughter and half wail, which the +peewit utters as he anxiously winnows the air with creaking wings above +the pedestrian's head. But it is not all of this character. From some +black hill-top one looks upon a green expanse, fresh and lively by +contrast as the young leaves of deciduous trees in spring, with black +again or dark brown of pine and heath beyond. It is the oasis where +Churt is. The vivifying spirit of the wind at that height, and that +vision of verdure beneath, produce an exhilarating effect on the mind. +It is common knowledge that the devil once lived in or haunted these +parts: now my hill-top fancy tells me that once upon a time a better +being, a wandering angel, flew over the country, and looking down and +seeing it so dark-hued and desolate, a compassionate impulse took him, +and unclasping his light mantle he threw it down, so that the human +inhabitants should not be without that sacred green colour that +elsewhere beautifies the earth. There to this day it lies where it +fell--a mantle of moist vivid green, powdered with silver and gold, +embroidered with all floral hues; all reds from the faint blush on the +petals of the briar-rose to the deep crimson of the red trifolium; and +all yellows, and blues, and purples. + +It was pleasant to return from a ramble over the rough heather to the +shade of the green village lanes, to stand aside in some deep narrow +road to make room for a farmer's waggon to pass, drawn by five or six +ponderous horses; to meet the cows too, smelling of milk and new-mown +hay, attended by the small cow-boy. One notices in most rural districts +how stunted in growth many of the boys of the labourers are; here I was +particularly struck by it on account of the fine physique of many of +the young men. It is possible that the growing time may be later and +more rapid here than in most places. Some of the young men are +exceptionally tall, and there was a larger percentage of tall handsome +women than I have seen in any village in Surrey and Hampshire. But the +children were almost invariably too small for their years. The most +stunted specimen was a little boy I met near Hindhead. He was thin, +with a dry wizened face, and looked at the most about eight years old; +he assured me that he was twelve. I engaged this gnome-like creature to +carry something for me, and we had three or four miles ramble together. +A curious couple we must have seemed--a giant and a pigmy, the pigmy +looking considerably older than the giant. He was a heath-cutter's +child, the eldest of seven children! They were very poor, but he could +earn nothing himself, except by gathering whortleberries in their +season; then he said, all seven of them turned out with their parents, +the youngest in its mother's arms. I questioned him about the birds of +the district; he stoutly maintained that he recognised only four, and +proceeded to name them. + +"Here is another," said I, "a fifth you didn't name, singing in the +bushes half a dozen yards from where we stand--the best singer of all." + +"I did name it," he returned, "that's a thrush." + +It was a nightingale, a bird he did not know. But he knew a thrush--it +was one of the four birds he knew, and he stuck to it that it was a +thrush singing. Afterwards he pointed out the squalid-looking cottage +he lived in. It was on the estate of a great lady. + +"Tell me," I said, "is she much liked on the estate?" + +He pondered the question for a few moments, then replied, "Some likes +her and some don't," and not a word more would he say on that subject. +A curious amalgam of stupidity and shrewdness; a bad observer of bird- +life, but a cautious little person in answering leading questions; he +was evidently growing up (or not doing so) in the wrong place. + +Going out for a stroll in the evening, I came to a spot where two small +cottages stood on one side of the road, and a large pond fringed with +rushes and a coppice on the other. Just by the cottage five boys were +amusing themselves by throwing stones at a mark, talking, laughing and +shouting at their play. Not many yards from the noisy boys some fowls +were picking about on the turf close to the pond; presently out of the +rushes came a moorhen and joined them. It was in fine feather, very +glossy, the brightest nuptial yellow and scarlet on beak and shield. It +moved about, heedless of my presence and of the noisy stone-throwing +boys, with that pretty dignity and unconcern which make it one of the +most attractive birds. What a contrast its appearance and motions +presented to those of the rough-hewn, ponderous fowls, among which it +moved so daintily! I was about to say that he was "just like a modern +gentleman" in the midst of a group of clodhoppers in rough old coats, +hob-nailed boots, and wisps of straw round their corduroys, standing +with clay pipes in their mouths, each with a pot of beer in his hand. +Such a comparison would have been an insult to the moorhen. +Nevertheless some ambitious young gentleman of aesthetic tastes might +do worse than get himself up in this bird's livery. An open coat of +olive-brown silk, with an oblique white band at the side; waistcoat or +cummerbund, and knickerbockers, slaty grey; stockings and shoes of +olive green; and, for a touch of bright colour, an orange and scarlet +tie. It would be pleasant to meet him in Piccadilly. But he would +never, never be able to get that quaint pretty carriage. The "Buzzard +lope" and the crane's stately stride are imitable by man, but not the +moorhen's gait. And what a mess of it our young gentleman would make in +attempting at each step to throw up his coat tails in order to display +conspicuously the white silk underlining! + +While I watched the pretty creature, musing sadly the while on the +ugliness of men's garments, a sudden storm of violent rasping screams +burst from some holly bushes a few yards away. It proceeded from three +excited jays, but whether they were girding at me, the shouting boys, +or a skulking cat among the bushes, I could not make out. + +When I finally left this curious company--noisy boys, great yellow +feather-footed fowls, dainty moorhen and vociferous jays--it was late, +but another amusing experience was in store for me. Leaving the village +I went up the hill to the Devil's Jumps to see the sun set. The Devil, +as I have said, was much about these parts in former times; his habits +were quite familiar to the people, and his name became associated with +some of the principal landmarks and features of the landscape. It was +his custom to go up into these rocks, where, after drawing his long +tail over his shoulder to have it out of his way, he would take one of +his great flying leaps or jumps. On the opposite side of the village we +have the Poor Devil's Bottom--a deep treacherous hole that cuts like a +ravine through the moor, into which the unfortunate fellow once fell +and broke several of his bones. A little further away, on Hindhead, we +have the Devil's Punch Bowl, that huge basin-shaped hollow on the hill +which has now become almost as famous as Flamborough Head or the Valley +of Rocks. + +At the Jumps a shower came on, and to escape a wetting I crept into a +hole or hollow in the rude mass of black basaltic rock which stands +like a fortress or ruined castle on the summit of the hill. When the +shower was nearly over I heard the wing-beats and low guttural voice of +a cuckoo; he did not see my crouching form in the hollow and settled on +a projecting block of stone close to me--not three yards from my head. +Presently he began to call, and it struck me as very curious that his +voice did not sound louder or different in quality than when heard at a +distance of forty or fifty yards. When he had finished calling and +flown away I crept out of my hole and walked back over the wet heath, +thinking now of the cuckoo and now of that half natural, half +supernatural but not very sublime being who, as I have said, was +formerly a haunter of these parts. This was a question that puzzled my +mind. It is easy to say that legends of the Devil are common enough all +over the land, and date back to old monkish times or to the beginning +of Christianity, when the spiritual enemy was very much in man's +thoughts; the curious thing is, that the devil associated in tradition +with certain singular features in the landscape, as it is here in this +Surrey village, and in a thousand other places, has little or no +resemblance to the true and only Satan. He is at his greatest a sort of +demi-god, or a semi-human being or monster of abnormal power and wildly +eccentric habits, but not really bad. Thus, I was told by a native of +Churt that when the Devil met with that serious accident which gave its +name to the Poor Devil's Bottom, his painful cries and groans attracted +the villagers, and they ministered to him, giving him food and drink +and applying such remedies as they knew of to his hurts until he +recovered and got out of the hole. Whether or not this legend has ever +been recorded I cannot say; one is struck with its curious resemblance +to some of the giant legends of the west of England. Near Devizes there +is a deep impression in the earth about which a very different story is +told: it is called the Devil's Jumps and is, I believe, supposed to be +an entrance to his subterranean dwelling-place. He jumps down through +that hole, the earth opens to receive him, and closes behind him. And +it is (or was) believed that if any person will run three times round +the hole the Devil will issue from it and start off in chase of a hare! +Why he comes forth and chases a hare nobody knows. + +It was only recently, when in Cornwall, the most legendary of the +counties, that I found out who and what this rural village devil I had +been thinking of really was. In Cornwall one finds many legends of the +Devil, as many in fact as in Flintshire, where the Devil has left so +many memorials on the downs, but they are few to those relating to the +giants. These legends were collected by Robert Hunt, and first +published over half a century ago in his _Popular Romances of the +West of England_, and he points out in this work that "devil" in +most of the legends appears to be but another name for "giant," that in +many cases the character of the being is practically the same. He +believes that traditions of giants, which probably date back to +prehistoric times, were once common all over the country, that they +were always associated with certain impressive features in the +landscape--grotesque hills, chasms and hollows in the downs and huge +masses of rock; that the early teachers of Christianity, anxious to +kill these traditions, or to blot out a false belief or superstition +with the darker and more terrible image of a powerful being at war with +man, taught that "giant" was but another name for Devil. If this is so, +the teaching was not altogether good policy. The giants, it is true, +were an awesome folk and flung immense rocks about in a reckless manner +and did many other mad things; and there were some that were wholly +bad, just as there are rogue elephants and as there are black sheep in +the human flock, but they were not really bad as a rule, and certainly +not too intelligent. Even little men with their cunning little brains +could get the better of them. The result of such teaching could only be +that the Devil would be regarded as not the unmitigated monster they +had been told that he was, nor without human weaknesses and virtues. +When we say now that he is not "as black as he is painted" we may be +merely repeating what was being said by the common people of England in +the days of St. Augustine and St. Colomb, and of the Irish missionaries +in Cornwall. + + + + +XII + +A WILTSHIRE VILLAGE + + +"What is your nearest village?" I asked of a labourer I met on the road +one bleak day in early spring, after a great frost: for I had walked +far enough and was cold and tired, and it seemed to me that it would be +well to find shelter for the night and a place to settle down in for a +season. + +"Burbage," he answered, pointing the way to it. + +And when I came to it, and walked slowly and thoughtfully the entire +length of its one long street or road, my sister said to me: + +"Yet another old ancient village!" and then, with a slight tremor in +her voice, "And you are going to stay in it!" + +"Yes," I replied, in a tone of studied indifference: but as to whether +it was ancient or not I could not say;--I had never heard its name +before, and knew nothing about it: doubtless it was characteristic-- +"That weary word," she murmured. + +--But it was neither strikingly picturesque, nor quaint, nor did I wish +it were either one or the other, nor anything else attractive or +remarkable, since I sought only for a quiet spot where my brain might +think the thoughts and my hand do the work that occupied me. A village +remote, rustic, commonplace, that would make no impression on my +preoccupied mind and leave no lasting image, nor anything but a faint +and fading memory. + + Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, + And tempted her out of her gloom-- + And conquered her scruples and gloom. + +And fortune favoured her, all things conspiring to keep me content to +walk in that path which I had so readily, so lightly, promised to keep: +for the work to be done was bread and cheese to me, and in a sense to +her, and had to be done, and there was nothing to distract attention. + +It was quiet in my chosen cottage, in the low-ceilinged room where I +usually sat: outside, the walls were covered with ivy which made it +like a lonely lodge in a wood; and when I opened my small outward- +opening latticed window there was no sound except the sighing of the +wind in the old yew tree growing beside and against the wall, and at +intervals the chirruping of a pair of sparrows that flew up from time +to time from the road with long straws in their bills. They were +building a nest beneath my window--possibly it was the first nest made +that year in all this country. + +All the day long it was quiet; and when, tired of work, I went out and +away from the village across the wide vacant fields, there was nothing +to attract the eye. The deadly frost which had held us for long weeks +in its grip had gone, for it was now drawing to the end of March, but +winter was still in the air and in the earth. Day after day a dull +cloud was over all the sky and the wind blew cold from the north-east. +The aspect of the country, as far as one could see in that level plain, +was wintry and colourless. The hedges in that part are kept cut and +trimmed so closely that they seemed less like hedges than mere faint +greyish fences of brushwood, dividing field from field: they would not +have afforded shelter to a hedge-sparrow. The trees were few and far +apart--grey naked oaks, un-visited even by the tits that find their +food in bark and twig; the wide fields between were bare and devoid of +life of man or beast or bird. Ploughed and grass lands were equally +desolate; for the grass was last year's, long dead and now of that +neutral, faded, and palest of all pale dead colours in nature. It is +not white nor yellow, and there is no name for it. Looking down when I +walked in the fields the young spring grass could be seen thrusting up +its blades among the old and dead, but at a distance of a few yards +these delicate living green threads were invisible. + +Coming back out of the bleak wind it always seemed strangely warm in +the village street--it was like coming into a room in which a fire has +been burning all day. So grateful did I find this warmth of the deep +old sheltered road, so vocal too and full of life did it seem after the +pallor and silence of the desolate world without, that I made it my +favourite walk, measuring its length from end to end. Nor was it +strange that at last, unconsciously, in spite of a preoccupied brain +and of the assurance given that I would reside in the village, like a +snail in its shell, without seeing it, an impression began to form and +an influence to be felt. + +Some vague speculations passed through my mind as to how old the +village might be. I had heard some person remark that it had formerly +been much more populous, that many of its people had from time to time +drifted away to the towns; their old empty cottages pulled down and no +new ones built. The road was deep and the cottages on either side stood +six to eight or nine feet above it. Where a cottage stood close to the +edge of the road and faced it, the door was reached by a flight of +stone or brick steps; at such cottages the landing above the steps was +like a balcony, where one could stand and look down upon a passing +cart, or the daily long straggling procession of children going to or +returning from the village school. I counted the steps that led up to +my own front door and landing place and found there were ten: I took it +that each step represented a century's wear of the road by hoof and +wheel and human feet, and the conclusion was thus that the village was +a thousand years old--probably it was over two thousand. A few +centuries more or less did not seem to matter much; the subject did not +interest me in the least, my passing thought about it was an idle straw +showing which way the mental wind was blowing. + +Albeit half-conscious of what that way was, I continued to assure +Psyche--my sister--that all was going well: that if she would only keep +quiet there would be no trouble, seeing that I knew my own weakness so +well--a habit of dropping the thing I am doing because something more +interesting always crops up. Here fortunately for us (and our bread and +cheese) there was nothing interesting--ab-so-lute-ly. + +But in the end, when the work was finished, the image that had been +formed could no longer be thrust away and forgotten. It was there, an +entity as well as an image--an intelligent masterful being who said to +me not in words but very plainly: _Try to ignore me and it will be +worse for you: a secret want will continually disquiet you: recognize +my existence and right to dwell in and possess your soul, as you dwell +in mine, and there will be a pleasant union and peace between us._ + +To resist, to argue the matter like some miserable metaphysician would +have been useless. + + +The persistent image was of the old deep road, the green bank on each +side, on which stood thatched cottages, whitewashed or of the pale red +of old weathered bricks; each with its plot of ground or garden with, +in some cases, a few fruit trees. Here and there stood a large shade +tree--oak or pine or yew; then a vacant space, succeeded by a hedge, +gapped and ragged and bare, or of evergreen holly or yew, smoothly +trimmed; then a ploughed field, and again cottages, looking up or down +the road, or placed obliquely, or facing it: and looking at one +cottage and its surrounding, there would perhaps be a water-butt +standing beside it; a spade and fork leaning against the wall; a +white cat sitting in the shelter idly regarding three or four fowls +moving about at a distance of a few yards, their red feathers ruffled +by the wind; further away a wood-pile; behind it a pigsty sheltered +by bushes, and on the ground, among the dead weeds, a chopping-block, +some broken bricks, little heaps of rusty iron, and other litter. Each +plot had its own litter and objects and animals. + +On the steeply sloping sides of the road the young grass was springing +up everywhere among the old rubbish of dead grass and leaves and sticks +and stems. More conspicuous than the grass blades, green as verdigris, +were the arrow-shaped leaves of the arum or cuckoo-pint. But there were +no flowers yet except the wild strawberry, and these so few and small +that only the eager eyes of the little children, seeking for spring, +might find them. + +Nor was the village less attractive in its sounds than in the natural +pleasing disorder of its aspect and the sheltering warmth of its +street. In the fields and by the skimpy hedges perfect silence reigned; +only the wind blowing in your face filled your ears with a rushing +aerial sound like that which lives in a seashell. Coming back from this +open bleak silent world, the village street seemed vocal with bird +voices. For the birds, too, loved the shelter which had enabled them to +live through that great frost; and they were now recovering their +voices; and whenever the wind lulled and a gleam of sunshine fell from +the grey sky, they were singing from end to end of the long street. + +Listening to, and in some instances seeing the singers and counting +them, I found that there were two thrushes, four blackbirds, several +chaffinches and green finches, one pair of goldfinches, half-a-dozen +linnets and three or four yellow-hammers; a sprinkling of hedge- +sparrows, robins and wrens all along the street; and finally, one +skylark from a field close by would rise and sing at a considerable +height directly above the road. Gazing up at the lark and putting +myself in his place, the village beneath with its one long street +appeared as a vari-coloured band lying across the pale earth. There +were dark and bright spots, lines and streaks, of yew and holly, red or +white cottage walls and pale yellow thatch; and the plots and gardens +were like large reticulated mottlings. Each had its centre of human +life with life of bird and beast, and the centres were in touch with +one another, connected like a row of children linked together by their +hands; all together forming one organism, instinct with one life, moved +by one mind, like a many-coloured serpent lying at rest, extended at +full length upon the ground. + +I imagined the case of a cottager at one end of the village occupied in +chopping up a tough piece of wood or stump and accidentally letting +fall his heavy sharp axe on to his foot, inflicting a grievous wound. +The tidings of the accident would fly from mouth to mouth to the other +extremity of the village, a mile distant; not only would every +individual quickly know of it, but have at the same time a vivid mental +image of his fellow villager at the moment of his misadventure, the +sharp glittering axe falling on to his foot, the red blood flowing from +the wound; and he would at the same time feel the wound in his own +foot, and the shock to his system. + +In like manner all thoughts and feelings would pass freely from one to +another, although not necessarily communicated by speech; and all would +be participants in virtue of that sympathy and solidarity uniting the +members of a small isolated community. No one would be capable of a +thought or emotion which would seem strange to the others. The temper, +the mood, the outlook, of the individual and the village would be the +same. + +I remember that something once occurred in a village where I was +staying, which was in a way important to the villagers, although it +gave them nothing and took nothing from them: it excited them without +being a question of politics, or of "morality," to use the word in its +narrow popular sense. I spoke first to a woman of the village about it, +and was not a little surprised at the view she took of the matter, for +to me this seemed unreasonable; but I soon found that all the villagers +took this same unreasonable view, their indignation, pity and other +emotions excited being all expended as it seemed to me in the wrong +direction. The woman had, in fact, merely spoken the mind of the +village. + +Owing to this close intimacy and family character of the village which +continues from generation to generation, there must be under all +differences on the surface a close mental likeness hardly to be +realised by those who live in populous centres; a union between mind +and mind corresponding to that reticulation as it appeared to me, of +plot with plot and with all they contained. It is perhaps equally hard +to realise that this one mind of a particular village is individual, +wholly its own, unlike that of any other village, near or far. For one +village differs from another; and the village is in a sense a body, and +this body and the mind that inhabits it, act and react on one another, +and there is between them a correspondence and harmony, although it may +be but a rude harmony. + +It is probable that we that are country born and bred are affected in +more ways and more profoundly than we know by our surroundings. The +nature of the soil we live on, the absence or presence of running +water, of hills, rocks, woods, open spaces; every feature in the +landscape, the vegetative and animal life--everything in fact that we +see, hear, smell and feel, enters not into the body only, but the soul, +and helps to shape and colour it. Equally important in its action on us +are the conditions created by man himself:--situation, size, form and +the arrangements of the houses in the village; its traditions, customs +and social life. + +On that airy _mirador_ which I occupied under (not in) the clouds, +after surveying the village beneath me I turned my sight abroad and +saw, near and far, many many other villages; and there was no other +exactly like Burbage nor any two really alike. + +Each had its individual character. To mention only two that were +nearest--East Grafton and Easton, or Easton Royal. The first, small +ancient rustic-looking place: a large green, park-like shaded by well- +grown oak, elm, beech, and ash trees; a small slow stream of water +winding through it: round this pleasant shaded and watered space the +low-roofed thatched cottages, each cottage in its own garden, its porch +and walls overgrown with ivy and creepers. Thus, instead of a straight +line like Burbage it formed a circle, and every cottage opened on to +the tree-shaded village green; and this green was like a great common +room where the villagers meet, where the children play, where lovers +whisper their secrets, where the aged and weary take their rest, and +all subjects of interest are daily discussed. If a blackcap or +chaffinch sung in one of the trees the strain could be heard in every +cottage in the circle. All hear and see the same things, and think and +feel the same. + +The neighbouring village was neither line, nor circle, but a cluster of +cottages. Or rather a group of clusters, so placed that a dozen or more +housewives could stand at their respective doors, very nearly facing +one another, and confabulate without greatly raising their voices. +Outside, all round, the wide open country--grass and tilled land and +hedges and hedgerow elms--is spread out before them. And in sight of +all the cottages, rising a little above them, stands the hoary ancient +church with giant old elm-trees growing near it, their branches laden +with rooks' nests, the air full of the continuous noise of the +wrangling birds, as they fly round and round, and go and come bringing +sticks all day, one to add to the high airy city, the other to drop as +an offering to the earth-god beneath, in whose deep-buried breast the +old trees have their roots. + +But the other villages that cannot be named were in scores and +hundreds, scattered all over Wiltshire, for the entire county was +visible from that altitude, and not Wiltshire only but Somerset, and +Berkshire and Hampshire, and all the adjoining counties, and finally, +the prospect still widening, all England from rocky Land's End to the +Cheviots and the wide windy moors sprinkled over with grey stone +villages. Thousands and thousands of villages; but I could only see a +few distinctly--not more than about two hundred, the others from their +great distance--not in space but time--appearing but vaguely as spots +of colour on the earth. Then, fixing my attention on those that were +most clearly seen, I found myself in thought loitering in them, +revisiting cottages and conversing with old people and children I knew; +and recalling old and remembered scenes and talks, I smiled and by-and- +by burst out laughing. + +It was then, when I laughed, that visions, dreams, memories, were put +to flight, for my wise sister was studying my face, and now, putting +her hand on mine, she said, "Listen!" And I listened, sadly, since I +could guess what was coming. + +"I know," she said, "just what is at the back of your mind, and all +these innumerable villages you are amusing yourself by revisiting, is +but a beginning, a preliminary canter. For not only is it the idea of +the village and the mental colour in which it dyes its children's mind +which fades never, however far they may go, though it may be to die at +last in remote lands and seas--" + +Here I interrupted, "O yes! Do you remember a poet's lines to the +little bourne in his childhood's home? A poet in that land where poetry +is a rare plant--I mean Scotland. I mean the lines: + + How men that niver have kenned aboot it + Can lieve their after lives withoot it + I canna tell, for day and nicht + It comes unca'd for to my sicht." + +"Yes," she replied, smiling sadly, and then, mocking my bad Scotch, +"and do ye ken that ither one, a native too of that country where, as +you say, poetry is a rare plant; that great wanderer over many lands +and seas, seeker after summer everlasting, who died thousands of miles +from home in a tropical island, and was borne to his grave on a +mountain top by the dark-skinned barbarous islanders, weeping and +lamenting their dead Tusitala, and the lines he wrote--do you remember? + + Be it granted to me to behold you again in dying, + Hills of my home! and to hear again the call-- + Hear about the graves of the martyrs, the pee-wees crying, + And hear no more at all!" + +"Oh, I was foolish to quote those lines on a Scotch burn to you, +knowing how you would take such a thing up! For you are the very soul +of sadness--a sadness that is like a cruelty--and for all your love, my +sister, you would have killed me with your sadness had I not refused to +listen so many many times!" + +"No! No! No! Listen now to what I had to say without interrupting me +again: All this about the villages, viewed from up there where the lark +sings, is but a preliminary--a little play to deceive yourself and me. +For, all the time you are thinking of other things, serious and some +exceedingly sad--of those who live not in villages but in dreadful +cities, who are like motherless men who have never known a mother's +love and have never had a home on earth. And you are like one who has +come upon a cornfield, ripe for the harvest with you alone to reap it. +And viewing it you pluck an ear of corn, and rub the grains out in the +palm of your hand, and toss them up, laughing and playing with them +like a child, pretending you are thinking of nothing, yet all the time +thinking--thinking of the task before you. And presently you will take +to the reaping and reap until the sun goes down, to begin again at +sunrise to toil and sweat again until evening. Then, lifting your bent +body with pain and difficulty, you will look to see how little you have +done, and that the field has widened and now stretches away before you +to the far horizon. And in despair you will cast the sickle away and +abandon the task." + +"What then, O wise sister, would you have me do?" + +"Leave it now, and save yourself this fresh disaster and suffering." + +"So be it! I cannot but remember that there have been many disasters-- +more than can be counted on the fingers of my two hands--which I would +have saved myself if I had listened when I turned a deaf ear to you. +But tell me, do you mind just a little more innocent play on my part-- +just a little picture of, say, one of the villages viewed a while ago +from under the cloud--or perhaps two?" + +And Psyche, my sister, having won _her_ point and pacified me, and +conquered my scruples and gloom, and seeing me now submissive, smiled a +gracious consent. + + + + +XIII + +HER OWN VILLAGE + + +One afternoon when cycling among the limestone hills of Derbyshire I +came to an unlovely dreary-looking little village named Chilmorton. It +was an exceptionally hot June day and I was consumed with thirst: never +had I wanted tea so badly. Small gritstone-built houses and cottages of +a somewhat sordid aspect stood on either side of the street, but there +was no shop of any kind and not a living creature could I see. It was +like a village of the dead or sleeping. At the top of the street I came +to the church standing in the middle of its church yard with the +public-house for nearest neighbour. Here there was life. Going in I +found it the most squalid and evil-smelling village pub I had ever +entered. Half a dozen grimy-looking labourers were drinking at the bar, +and the landlord was like them in appearance, with his dirty shirt- +front open to give his patrons a view of his hairy sweating chest. I +asked him to get me tea. "Tea!" he shouted, staring at me as if I had +insulted him; "There's no tea here!" A little frightened at his +aggressive manner I then meekly asked for soda-water, which he gave me, +and it was warm and tasted like a decoction of mouldy straw. After +taking a sip and paying for it I went to look at the church, which I +was astonished to find open. + +It was a relief to be in that cool, twilight, not unbeautiful interior +after my day in the burning sun. + +After resting and taking a look round I became interested in watching +and listening to the talk of two other visitors who had come in before +me. One was a slim, rather lean brown-skinned woman, still young but +with the incipient crow's-feet, the lines on the forehead, the dusty- +looking dark hair, and other signs of time and toil which almost +invariably appear in the country labourer's wife before she attains to +middle age. She was dressed in a black gown, presumably her best +although it was getting a little rusty. Her companion was a fat, red- +cheeked young girl in a towny costume, a straw hat decorated with +bright flowers and ribbons, and a string of big coloured beads about +her neck. + +In a few minutes they went out, and when going by me I had a good look +at the woman's face, for it was turned towards me with an eager +questioning look in her dark eyes and a very friendly smile on her +lips. What was the attraction I suddenly found in that sunburnt face?-- +what did it say to me or remind me of?--what did it suggest? + +I followed them out to where they were standing talking among the +gravestones, and sitting down on a tomb near them spoke to the woman. +She responded readily enough, apparently pleased to have some one to +talk to, and pretty soon began to tell me the history of their lives. +She told me that Chilmorton was her native place, but that she had been +absent from it many many years. She knew just how many years because +her child was only six months old when she left and was now fourteen +though she looked more. She was such a big girl! Then her man took them +to his native place in Staffordshire, where they had lived ever since. +But their girl didn't live with them now. An aunt, a sister of her +husband, had taken her to the town where she lived, and was having her +taught at a private school. As soon as she left school her aunt hoped +to get her a place in a draper's shop. For a long time past she had +wanted to show her daughter her native place, but had never been able +to manage it because it was so far to come and they didn't have much +money to spend; but now at last she had brought her and was showing her +everything. + +Glancing at the girl who stood listening but with no sign of interest +in her face, I remarked that her daughter would perhaps hardly think +the journey had been worth taking. + +"Why do you say that?" she quickly demanded. + +"Oh well," I replied, "because Chilmorton can't have much to interest a +girl living in a town." Then I foolishly went on to say what I thought +of Chilmorton. The musty taste of that warm soda-water was still in my +mouth and made me use some pretty strong words. + +At that she flared up and desired me to know that in spite of what I +thought it Chilmorton was the sweetest, dearest village in England; +that she was born there and hoped to be buried in its churchyard where +her parents were lying, and her grandparents and many others of her +family. She was thirty-six years old now, she said, and would perhaps +live to be an old woman, but it would make her miserable for all the +rest of her life if she thought she would have to lie in the earth at a +distance from Chilmorton. + +During this speech I began to think of the soft reply it would now be +necessary for me to make, when, having finished speaking, she called +sharply to her daughter, "Come, we've others to see yet," and, followed +by the girl, walked briskly away without so much as a good-bye, or even +a glance! + +Oh you poor foolish woman, thought I; why take it to heart like that! +and I was sorry and laughed a little as I went back down the street. It +was beginning to wake up now! A man in his shirt sleeves and without a +hat, a big angry man, was furiously hunting a rebellious pig all round +a small field adjoining a cottage, trying to corner it; he swore and +shouted, and out of the cottage came a frowsy-looking girl in a ragged +gown with her hair hanging all over her face, to help him with the pig. +A little further on I caught sight of yet another human being, a tall +gaunt old woman in cap and shawl, who came out of a cottage and moved +feebly towards a pile of faggots a few yards from the door. Just as she +got to the pile I passed, and she slowly turned and gazed at me out of +her dim old eyes. Her wrinkled face was the colour of ashes and was +like the face of a corpse, still bearing on it the marks of suffering +endured for many miserable years. And these three were the only +inhabitants I saw on my way down the street. + +At the end of the village the street broadened to a clean white road +with high ancient hedgerow elms on either side, their upper branches +meeting and forming a green canopy over it. As soon as I got to the +trees I stopped and dismounted to enjoy the delightful sensation the +shade produced: there out of its power I could best appreciate the sun +shining in splendour on the wide green hilly earth and in the green +translucent foliage above my head. In the upper branches a blackbird +was trolling out his music in his usual careless leisurely manner; when +I stopped under it the singing was suspended for half a minute or so, +then resumed, but in a lower key, which made it seem softer, sweeter, +inexpressibly beautiful. + +There are beautiful moments in our converse with nature when all the +avenues by which nature comes to our souls seem one, when hearing and +seeing and smelling and feeling are one sense, when the sweet sound +that falls from a bird, is but the blue of heaven, the green of earth, +and the golden sunshine made audible. + +Such a moment was mine, as I stood under the elms listening to the +blackbird. And looking back up the village street I thought of the +woman in the churchyard, her sun-parched eager face, her questioning +eyes and friendly smile: what was the secret of its attraction?--what +did that face say to me or remind me of?--what did it suggest? + +Now it was plain enough. She was still a child at heart, in spite of +those marks of time and toil on her countenance, still full of wonder +and delight at this wonderful world of Chilmorton set amidst its +limestone hills, under the wide blue sky--this poor squalid little +village where I couldn't get a cup of tea! + +It was the child surviving in her which had attracted and puzzled me; +it does not often shine through the dulling veil of years so brightly. +And as she now appeared to me as a child in heart I could picture her +as a child in years, in her little cotton frock and thin bare legs, a +sunburnt little girl of eight, with the wide-eyed, eager, half-shy, +half-trustful look, asking you, as the child ever asks, what you +think?--what you feel? It was a wonderful world, and the world was the +village, its streets of gritstone houses, the people living in them, +the comedies and tragedies of their lives and deaths, and burials in +the churchyard with grass and flowers to grow over them by-and-by. And +the church;--I think its interior must have seemed vaster, more +beautiful and sublime to her wondering little soul than the greatest +cathedral can be to us. I think that our admiration for the loveliest +blooms--the orchids and roses and chrysanthemums at our great annual +shows--is a poor languid feeling compared to what she experienced at +the sight of any common flower of the field. Best of all perhaps were +the elms at the village end, those mighty rough-barked trees that had +their tops "so close against the sky." And I think that when a +blackbird chanced to sing in the upper branches it was as if some +angelic being had dropped down out of the sky into that green +translucent cloud of leaves, and seeing the child's eager face looking +up had sung a little song of his own celestial country to please her. + + + + +XIV + +APPLE BLOSSOMS AND A LOST VILLAGE + + +The apple has not come to its perfection this season until the middle +of May; even here, in this west country, the very home of the spirit of +the apple tree! Now it is, or seems, all the more beautiful because of +its lateness, and of an April of snow and sleet and east winds, the +bitter feeling of which is hardly yet out of our blood. If I could +recover the images of all the flowering apple trees I have ever looked +delightedly at, adding those pictured by poets and painters, including +that one beneath which Fiammetta is standing, forever, with that fresh +glad face almost too beautiful for earth, looking out as from pink and +white clouds of the multitudinous blossoms--if I could see all that, I +could not find a match for one of the trees of to-day. It is like +nothing in earth, unless we say that, indescribable in its loveliness, +it is like all other sights in nature which wake in us a sense of the +supernatural. + +Undoubtedly the apple trees seem more beautiful to us than all other +blossoming trees, in all lands we have visited, just because it is so +common, so universal--I mean in this west country--so familiar a sight +to everyone from infancy, on which account it has more associations of +a tender and beautiful kind than the others. For however beautiful it +may be intrinsically, the greatest share of the charm is due to the +memories that have come to be part of and one with it--the forgotten +memories they may be called. For they mostly refer to a far period in +our lives, to our early years, to days and events that were happy and +sad. The events themselves have faded from the mind, but they +registered an emotion, cumulative in its effect, which endures and +revives from time to time and is that indefinable feeling, that tender +melancholy and "divine despair," and those idle tears of which the poet +says, "I know not what they mean," which gather to the eyes at the +sight of happy autumn fields and of all lovely natural sights familiar +from of old. + +To-day, however, looking at the apple blooms, I find the most +beautifying associations and memories not in a far-off past, but in +visionary apple trees seen no longer ago than last autumn! + +And this is how it comes about. In this red and green country of Devon +I am apt to meet with adventures quite unlike those experienced in +other counties, only they are mostly adventures of the spirit. + +Lying awake at six o'clock last October, in Exeter, and seeing it was a +grey misty morning, my inclination was to sleep again. I only dozed and +was in the twilight condition when the mind is occupied with idle +images and is now in the waking world, now in dreamland. A thought of +the rivers in the red and green country floated through my brain--of +the Clyst among others; then of the villages on the Clyst; of +Broadclyst, Clyst St. Mary, Clyst St. Lawrence, finally of Clyst Hyden; +and although dozing I half laughed to remember how I went searching for +that same village last May and how I wouldn't ask my way of anyone, +just because it was Clyst Hyden, because the name of that little hidden +rustic village had been written in the hearts of some who had passed +away long ago, far far from home:--how then could I fail to find it?-- +it would draw my feet like a magnet! + +I remembered how I searched among deep lanes, beyond rows and rows of +ancient hedgerow elms, and how I found its little church and thatched +cottages at last, covered with ivy and roses and creepers, all in a +white and pink cloud of apple blossoms. Searching for it had been great +fun and finding it a delightful experience; why not have the pleasure +once more now that it was May again and the apple orchards in blossom? +No sooner had I asked myself the question than I was on my bicycle +among those same deep lanes, with the unkept hedges and the great +hedgerow elms shutting out a view of the country, searching once more +for the village of Clyst Hyden. And as on the former occasion, years +ago it seemed, I would not enquire my way of anyone. I had found it +then for myself and was determined to do so again, although I had set +out with the vaguest idea as to the right direction. + +But hours went by and I could not find it, and now it was growing late. +Through a gap in the hedge I saw the great red globe of the sun quite +near the horizon, and immediately after seeing it I was in a narrow +road with a green border, which stretched away straight before me +further than I could see. Then the thatched cottages of a village came +into sight; all were on one side of the road, and the setting sun +flamed through the trees had kindled road and trees and cottages to a +shining golden flame. + +"This is it!" I cried. "This is my little lost village found again, and +it is well I found it so late in the day, for now it looks less like +even the loveliest old village in Devon than one in fairyland, or in +Beulah." + +When I came near it that sunset splendour did not pass off and it was +indeed like no earthly village; then people came out from the houses to +gaze at me, and they too were like people glorified with the sunset +light and their faces shone as they advanced hurriedly to meet me, +pointing with their hands and talking and laughing excitedly as if my +arrival among them had been an event of great importance. In a moment +they surrounded and crowded round me, and sitting still among them +looking from radiant face to face I at length found my speech and +exclaimed, "O how beautiful!" + +Then a girl pressed forward from among the others, and putting up her +hand she placed it on my temple, the fingers resting on my forehead; +and gazing with a strange earnestness in my eyes she said: "Beautiful?-- +only that! Do you see nothing more?" + +I answered, looking back into her eyes: "Yes--I think there is +something more but I don't know what it is. Does it come from you--your +eyes--your voice, all this that is passing in my mind?" + +"What is passing in your mind?" she asked. + +"I don't know. Thoughts--perhaps memories: hundreds, thousands--they +come and go like lightning so that I can't arrest them--not even one!" + +She laughed, and the laugh was like her eyes and her voice and the +touch of her hand on my temples. + +Was it sad or glad? I don't know, but it was the most beautiful sound I +had ever heard, yet it seemed familiar and stirred me in the strangest +way. + +"Let me think," I said. + +"Yes, think!" they all together cried laughingly; and then instantly +when I cast my eyes down there was a perfect stillness as if they were +all holding their breath and watching me. + +That sudden strange stillness startled me: I lifted my eyes and they +were gone--the radiant beautiful people who had surrounded and +interrogated me, and with them their shining golden village, had all +vanished. There was no village, no deep green lanes and pink and white +clouds of apple blossoms, and it was not May, it was late October and I +was lying in bed in Exeter seeing through the window the red and grey +roofs and chimneys and pale misty white sky. + + + + +XV + +THE VANISHING CURTSEY + + +'Tis impossible not to regret the dying out of the ancient, quaintly- +pretty custom of curtseying in rural England; yet we cannot but see the +inevitableness of it, when we consider the earthward drop of the body-- +the bird-like gesture pretty to see in the cottage child, not so +spontaneous nor pretty in the grown girl, and not pretty nor quaint, +but rather grotesque (as we think now) in the middle-aged or elderly +person--and that there is no longer a corresponding self-abasement and +worshipping attitude in the village mind. It is a sign or symbol that +has lost, or is losing, its significance. + +I have been rambling among a group of pretty villages on and near the +Somerset Avon, some in that county, others in Wiltshire; and though +these small rustic centres, hidden among the wooded hills, had an +appearance of antiquity and of having continued unchanged for very many +years, the little ones were as modern in their speech and behaviour as +town children. Of all those I met and, in many instances, spoke to, in +the village street and in the neighbouring woods and lanes, not one +little girl curtseyed to me. The only curtsey I had dropped to me in +this district was from an old woman in the small hill-hidden village of +Englishcombe. It was on a frosty afternoon in February, and she stood +near her cottage gate with nothing on her head, looking at the same +time very old and very young. Her eyes were as blue and bright as a +child's, and her cheeks were rosy-red; but the skin was puckered with +innumerable wrinkles as in the very old. Surprised at her curtsey I +stopped to speak to her, and finally went into her cottage and had tea +and made the acquaintance of her husband, a gaunt old man with a face +grey as ashes and dim colourless eyes, whom Time had made almost an +imbecile, and who sat all day groaning by the fire. Yet this worn-out +old working man was her junior by several years. Her age was eighty- +four. She was very good company, certainly the brightest and liveliest +of the dozen or twenty octogenarians I am acquainted with. I heard the +story of her life,--that long life in the village where she was born +and had spent sixty-five years of married life, and where she would lie +in the churchyard with her mate. Her Christian name, she mentioned, was +Priscilla, and it struck me that she must have been a very pretty and +charming Priscilla about the thirties of the last century. + +To return to the little ones; it was too near Bath for such a custom to +survive among them, and it is the same pretty well everywhere; you must +go to a distance of ten or twenty miles from any large town, or a big +station, to meet with curtseying children. Even in villages at a +distance from towns and railroads, in purely agricultural districts, +the custom is dying out, if, for some reason, strangers are often seen +in the place. Such a village is Selborne, and an amusing experience I +met with there some time ago serves to show that the old rustic +simplicity of its inhabitants is now undergoing a change. + +I was walking in the village street with a lady friend when we noticed +four little girls coming towards us with arms linked. As they came near +they suddenly stopped and curtseyed all together in an exaggerated +manner, dropping till their knees touched the ground, then springing to +their feet they walked rapidly away. From the bold, free, easy way in +which the thing was done it was plain to see that they had been +practising the art in something of a histrionic spirit for the benefit +of the pilgrims and strangers frequently seen in the village, and for +their own amusement. As the little Selbornians walked off they glanced +back at us over their shoulders, exhibiting four roguish smiles on +their four faces. The incident greatly amused us, but I am not sure +that the Reverend Gilbert White would have regarded it in the same +humorous light. + +Occasionally one even finds a village where strangers are not often +seen, which has yet outlived the curtsey. Such a place, I take it, is +Alvediston, the small downland village on the upper waters of the +Ebble, in southern Wiltshire. One day last summer I was loitering near +the churchyard, when a little girl, aged about eight, came from an +adjoining copse with some wild flowers in her hand. She was singing as +she walked and looked admiringly at the flowers she carried; but she +could see me watching her out of the corners of her eyes. + +"Good morning," said I. "It is nice to be out gathering flowers on such +a day, but why are you not in school?" + +"Why am I not in school?" in a tone of surprise. "Because the holidays +are not over. On Monday we open." + +"How delighted you will be." + +"Oh no, I don't _think_ I shall be delighted," she returned. Then +I asked her for a flower, and apparently much amused she presented me +with a water forget-me-not, then she sauntered on to a small cottage +close by. Arrived there, she turned round and faced me, her hand on the +gate, and after gazing steadily for some moments exclaimed, "Delighted +at going back to school--who ever heard such a thing?" and, bursting +into a peal of musical child-laughter, she went into the cottage. + +One would look for curtseys in the Flower Walk in Kensington Gardens as +soon as in the hamlet of this remarkably self-possessed little maid. +Her manner was exceptional; but, if we must lose the curtsey, and the +rural little ones cease to mimic that pretty drooping motion of the +nightingale, the kitty wren, and wheatear, cannot our village pastors +and masters teach them some less startling and offensive form of +salutation than the loud "Hullo!" with which they are accustomed to +greet the stranger within their gates? + +I shall finish with another story which might be entitled "The Democrat +against Curtseying." The scene was a rustic village, a good many miles +from any railroad station, in the south of England. Here I made the +acquaintance and was much in the society of a man who was not a native +of the place, but had lived several years in it. Although only a +working man, he had, by sheer force of character, made himself a power +in the village. A total abstainer and non-smoker, a Dissenter in +religion and lay-preacher where Dissent had never found a foothold +until his coming, and an extreme Radical in politics, he was naturally +something of a thorn in the side of the vicar and of the neighbouring +gentry. + +But in spite of his extreme views and opposition to old cherished ideas +and conventions, he was so liberal-minded, so genial in temper, so +human, that he was very much liked even by those who were his enemies +on principle; and they were occasionally glad to have his help and to +work with him in any matter that concerned the welfare of the very poor +in the village. + +After the first bitterness between him and the important inhabitants +had been outlived and a _modus vivendi_ established, the vicar +ventured one day to remonstrate with the good but mistaken man on the +subject of curtseying, which had always been strictly observed in the +village. The complaint was that the parishioner's wife did not curtsey +to the vicaress, but on the contrary, when she met or passed her on the +road she maintained an exceedingly stiff, erect attitude, which was not +right, and far from pleasant to the other. + +"Is it then your desire," said my democratic friend, "that my wife +shall curtsey to your wife when they meet or pass each other in the +village?" + +"Certainly, that is my wish," said the vicar. + +"Very well," said the other; "my wife is guided by me in such matters, +and I am very happy to say that she is an obedient wife, and I shall +tell her that she is to curtsey to your wife in future." + +"Thank you," said the vicar, "I am glad that you have taken it in a +proper spirit." + +"But I have not yet finished," said the other. "I was going to add that +this command to my wife to curtsey to your wife will be made by me on +the understanding that you will give a similar command to your wife, +and that when they meet and my wife curtseys to your wife, your wife +shall at the same time curtsey to my wife." + +The vicar was naturally put out and sharply told his rebellious +parishioner that he was setting himself against the spirit of the +teaching of the Master whom they both acknowledged, and who commanded +us to give to everyone his due, with more to the same effect. But he +failed to convince, and there was no curtseying. + +It was sometimes pleasant and amusing to see these two--the good old +clergyman, weak and simple-minded, and his strong antagonist, the +aggressive working man with his large frame and genial countenance and +great white flowing beard--a Walt Whitman in appearance--working +together for some good object in the village. It was even more amusing, +but touching as well, to witness an unexpected meeting between the two +wives, perhaps at the door of some poor cottage, to which both had gone +on the same beautiful errand of love and compassion to some stricken +soul, and exchanging only a short "Good-day," the democrat's wife +stiffening her knee-joints so as to look straighter and taller than +usual. + + + + +XVI + + +LITTLE GIRLS I HAVE MET + + +Perhaps some reader who does not know a little girl her psychology, +after that account of the Alvediston maidie who presented me with a +flower with an arch expression on her face just bordering on a mocking +smile, will say, "What a sophisticated child to be sure!" He would be +quite wrong unless we can say that the female child is born +sophisticated, which sounds rather like a contradiction in terms. That +appearance of sophistication, common in little girls even in a remote +rustic village hidden away among the Wiltshire downs, is implicit in, +and a quality of the child's mind--the _female_ child, it will be +understood--and is the first sign of the flirting instinct which shows +itself as early as the maternal one. This, we know, appears as soon as +a child is able to stand on its feet, perhaps even before it quits the +cradle. It seeks to gratify itself by mothering something, even an +inanimate something, so that it is as common to put a doll in a baby- +child's hands as it is to put a polished cylindrical bit of ivory--I +forget the name of it--in its mouth. The child grows up nursing this +image of itself, whether with or without a wax face, blue eyes and tow- +coloured hair, and if or when the unreality of the doll begins to spoil +its pleasure, it will start mothering something with life in it--a +kitten for preference, and if no kitten, or puppy or other such +creature easy to be handled or cuddled, is at hand, it will take kindly +to any mild-mannered old gentleman of its circle. + +It is just these first instinctive impulses of the girl-child, combined +with her imitativeness and wonderful precocity, which make her so +fascinating. But do they think? They do, but this first early thinking +does not make them self-conscious as does their later thinking, to the +spoiling of their charm. The thinking indeed begins remarkably early. I +remember one child, a little five-year-old and one of my favourites, +climbing to my knee one day and exhibiting a strangely grave face. +"Doris, what makes you look so serious?" I asked. And after a few +moments of silence, during which she appeared to be thinking hard, she +startled me by asking me what was the use of living, and other +questions which it almost frightened me to hear from those childish +innocent lips. Yet I have seen this child grow up to womanhood--a quite +commonplace conventional woman, who when she has a child of her own of +five would be unspeakably shocked to hear from it the very things she +herself spoke at that tender age. And if I were to repeat to her now +the words she spoke (the very thought of Byron in his know-that- +whatever-thou-hast-been-'Twere-something-better-not-to-be poem) she +would not believe it. + +It is, however, rare for the child mind in its first essays at +reflection to take so far a flight. It begins as a rule like the +fledgling by climbing with difficulty out of the nest and on to the +nearest branches. + +It is interesting to observe these first movements. Quite recently I +met with a child of about the same age as the one just described, who +exhibited herself to me in the very act of trying to climb out of the +nest--trying to grasp something with her claws, so to speak, and pull +herself up. She was and is a very beautiful child, full of life and fun +and laughter, and came out to me when I was sitting on the lawn to ask +me for a story. + +"Very well," I said. "But you must wait for half an hour until I +remember all about it before I begin. It is a long story about things +that happened a long time ago." + +She waited as patiently as she could for about three minutes, and then +said: "What do you mean by a long time ago?" + +I explained, but could see that I had not made her understand, and at +last put it in days, then weeks, then seasons, then years, until she +appeared to grasp the meaning of a year, and then finished by saying a +long time ago in this case meant a hundred years. + +Again she was at a loss, but still trying to understand she asked me: +"What is a hundred years?" + +"Why, it's a hundred years," I replied. "Can you count to a hundred?" + +"I'll try," she said, and began to count and got to nineteen, then +stopped. I prompted her, and she went on to twenty-nine, and so on, +hesitating after each nine, until she reached fifty. "That's enough," I +said, "it's too hard to go the whole way; but now don't you begin to +understand what a hundred years means?" + +She looked at me and then away, and her beautiful blue intelligent eyes +told me plainly that she did not, and that she felt baffled and +worried. + +After an interval she pointed to the hedge. "Look at the leaves," she +said. "I could go and count a hundred leaves, couldn't I? Well, would +that be a hundred years?" + +And no further could we get, since I could not make out just what the +question meant. At first it looked as if she thought of the leaves as +an illustration--or a symbol; and then that she had failed to grasp the +idea of time, or that it had slipped from her, and she had fallen back, +as it were, to the notion that a hundred meant a hundred objects, which +you could see and feel. There appeared to be no way out of the puzzle- +dom into which we had both got, so that it came as a relief to both of +us when she heard her mother calling--calling her back into a world she +could understand. + +I believe that when we penetrate to the real mind of girl children we +find a strong likeness in them even when they appear to differ as +widely from one another as adults do. The difference in the little ones +is less in disposition and character than in unlikeness due to +unconscious imitation. They take their mental colour from their +surroundings. The red men of America are the gravest people on the +globe, and their children are like them when with them; but this +unnatural gravity is on the surface and is a mask which drops or fades +off when they assemble together out of sight and hearing of their +elders. In like manner our little ones have masks to fit the character +of the homes they are bred in. + +Here I recall a little girl I once met when I was walking somewhere on +the borders of Dorset and Hampshire. It was at the close of an autumn +day, and I was on a broad road in a level stretch of country with the +low buildings of a farmhouse a quarter of a mile ahead of me, and no +other building in sight. A lonely land with but one living creature in +sight--a very small girl, slowly coming towards me, walking in the +middle of the wet road; for it had been raining a greater part of the +day. It was amazing to see that wee solitary being on the lonely road, +with the wide green and brown earth spreading away to the horizon on +either side under the wide pale sky. She was a sturdy little thing of +about five years old, in heavy clothes and cloth cap, and long knitted +muffler wrapped round her neck and crossed on her chest, then tied or +bound round her waist, thick boots and thick leggings! And she had a +round serious face, and big blue eyes with as much wonder in them at +seeing me as I suppose mine expressed at seeing her. When we were still +a little distance apart she drew away to the opposite side of the road, +thinking perhaps that so big a man would require the whole of its +twenty-five yards width for himself. But no, that was not the reason of +her action, for on gaining the other side she stopped and turned so as +to face me when I should be abreast of her, and then at the proper +moment she bent her little knees and dropped me an elaborate curtsey; +then, rising again to her natural height, she continued regarding me +with those wide-open astonished eyes! Nothing in little girls so +deliciously quaint and old-worldish had ever come in my way before; and +though it was late in the day and the road long, I could not do less +than cross over to speak to her. She belonged to a cottage I had left +some distance behind, and had been to the farm with a message and was +on her way back, she told me, speaking with slow deliberation and +profound respect, as to a being of a higher order than man. Then she +took my little gift and after making a second careful curtsey proceeded +slowly and gravely on her way. + +Undoubtedly all this unsmiling, deeply respectful manner was a mask, or +we may go so far as to call it second nature, and was the result of +living in a cottage in an agricultural district with adults or old +people:--probably her grandmother was the poor little darling's model, +and any big important-looking man she met was the lord of the manor! + +What an amazing difference outwardly between the rustic and the city +child of a society woman, accustomed to be addressed and joked with and +caressed by scores of persons every day--her own people, friends, +visitors, strangers! Such a child I met last summer at a west-end shop +or emporium where women congregate in a colossal tea-room under a glass +dome, with glass doors opening upon an acre of flat roof. + +There, one afternoon, after drinking my tea I walked away to a good +distance on the roof and sat down to smoke a cigarette, and presently +saw a charming-looking child come dancing out from among the tea- +drinkers. Round and round she whirled, heedless of the presence of all +those people, happy and free and wild as a lamb running a race with +itself on some green flowery down under the wide sky. And by-and-by she +came near and was pirouetting round my chair, when I spoke to her, and +congratulated her on having had a nice holiday at the seaside. One knew +it from her bare brown legs. Oh yes, she said, it was a nice holiday at +Bognor, and she had enjoyed it very much. + +"Particularly the paddling," I remarked. + +No, there was no paddling--her mother wouldn't let her paddle. + +"What a cruel mother!" I said, and she laughed merrily, and we talked a +little longer, and then seeing her about to go, I said, "you must be +just seven years old." + +"No, only five," she replied. + +"Then," said I, "you must be a wonderfully clever child." + +"Oh yes, I know I'm clever," she returned quite naturally, and away she +went, spinning over the wide space, and was presently lost in the +crowd. + +A few minutes later a pleasant-looking but dignified lady came out from +among the tea-drinkers and bore down directly on me. "I hear," she +said, "you've been talking to my little girl, and I want you to know I +was very sorry I couldn't let her paddle. She was just recovering from +whooping-cough when I took her to the seaside, and I was afraid to let +her go in the water." + +I commended her for her prudence, and apologised for having called her +cruel, and after a few remarks about her charming child, she went her +way. + +And now I have no sooner done with this little girl than another cometh +up as a flower in my memory and I find I'm compelled to break off. +There are too many for me. It is true that the child's beautiful life +is a brief one, like that of the angel-insect, and may be told in a +paragraph; yet if I were to write only as many of them as there are +"Lives" in Plutarch it would still take an entire book--an octavo of at +least three hundred pages. But though I can't write the book I shall +not leave the subject just yet, and so will make a pause here, to +continue the subject in the next sketch, then the next to follow, and +probably the next after that. + + + + +XVII + +MILLICENT AND ANOTHER + + +They were two quite small maidies, aged respectively four and six years +with some odd months in each case. They are older now and have probably +forgotten the stranger to whom they gave their fresh little hearts, who +presently left their country never to return; for all this happened a +long time ago--I think about three years. In a way they were rivals, +yet had never seen one another, perhaps never will, since they inhabit +two villages more than a dozen miles apart in a wild, desolate, hilly +district of West Cornwall. + +Let me first speak of Millicent, the elder. I knew Millicent well, +having at various times spent several weeks with her in her parents' +house, and she, an only child, was naturally regarded as the most +important person in it. In Cornwall it is always so. Tall for her +years, straight and slim, with no red colour on her cheeks; she had +brown hair and large serious grey eyes; those eyes and her general air +of gravity, and her forehead, which was too broad for perfect beauty, +made me a little shy of her and we were not too intimate. And, indeed, +that feeling on my part, which made me a little careful and ceremonious +in our intercourse, seemed to be only what she expected of me. One day +in a forgetful or expansive moment I happened to call her "Millie," +which caused her to look to me in surprise. "Don't you like me to call +you Millie--for short?" I questioned apologetically. "No," she returned +gravely; "it is not my name--my name is Millicent." And so it had to be +to the end of the chapter. + +Then there was her speech--I wondered how she got it! For it was unlike +that of the people she lived among of her own class. No word-clipping +and slurring, no "naughty English" as old Nordin called it, and sing- +song intonation with her! She spoke with an almost startling +distinctness, giving every syllable its proper value, and her words +were as if they had been read out of a nicely written book. + +Nevertheless, we got on fairly well together, meeting on most days at +tea-time in the kitchen, when we would have nice sober little talks and +look at her lessons and books and pictures, sometimes unbending so far +as to draw pigs on her slate with our eyes shut, and laughing at the +result just like ordinary persons. + +It was during my last visit, after an absence of some months from that +part of the country, that one evening on coming in I was told by her +mother that Millicent had gone for the milk, and that I would have to +wait for my tea till she came back. Now the farm that supplied the milk +was away at the other end of the village, quite half a mile, and I went +to meet her, but did not see her until I had walked the whole distance, +when just as I arrived at the gate she came out of the farm-house +burdened with a basket of things in one hand and a can of milk in the +other. She graciously allowed me to relieve her of both, and taking +basket and can with one hand I gave her the other, and so, hand in +hand, very friendly, we set off down the long, bleak, windy road just +when it was growing dark. + +"I'm afraid you are rather thinly clad for this bleak December +evening," I remarked. "Your little hand feels cold as ice." + +She smiled sweetly and said she was not feeling cold, after which there +was a long interval of silence. From time to time we met a villager, a +fisherman in his ponderous sea-boots, or a farm-labourer homeward +plodding his weary way. But though heavy-footed after his day's labour +he is never so stolid as an English ploughman is apt to be; invariably +when giving us a good-night in passing the man would smile and look at +Millicent very directly with a meaning twinkle in his Cornish eye. He +might have been congratulating her on having a male companion to pay +her all these nice little attentions, and perhaps signalling the hope +that something would come of it. + +Grave little Millicent, I was pleased to observe, took no notice of +this Cornubian foolishness. At length when we had walked half the +distance home, in perfect silence, she said impressively: "Mr. Hudson, +I have something I want to tell you very much." + +I begged her to speak, pressing her cold little hand. + +She proceeded: "I shall never forget that morning when you went away +the last time. You said you were going to Truro; but I'm not sure-- +perhaps it was to London. I only know that it was very far away, and +you were going for a very long time. It was early in the morning, and I +was in bed. You know how late I always am. I heard you calling to me to +come down and say good-bye; so I jumped up and came down in my +nightdress and saw you standing waiting for me at the foot of the +stairs. Then, when I got down, you took me up in your arms and kissed +me. I shall never forget it!" + +"Why?" I said, rather lamely, just because it was necessary to say +something. And after a little pause, she returned, "Because I shall +never forget it." + +Then, as I said nothing, she resumed: "That day after school I saw +Uncle Charlie and told him, and he said: 'What! you allowed that tramp +to kiss you! then I don't want to take you on my knee any more--you've +lowered yourself too much." + +"Did he dare to say that?" I returned. + +"Yes, that's what Uncle Charlie said, but it makes no difference. I +told him you were not a tramp, Mr. Hudson, and he said you could call +yourself Mister-what-you-liked but you were a tramp all the same, +nothing but a common tramp, and that I ought to be ashamed of myself. +'You've disgraced the family,' that's what he said, but I don't care--I +shall never forget it, the morning you went away and took me up in your +arms and kissed me." + +Here was a revelation! It saddened me, and I made no reply although I +think she expected one. And so after a minute or two of uncomfortable +silence she repeated that she would never forget it. For all the time I +was thinking of another and sweeter one who was also a person of +importance in her own home and village over a dozen miles away. + +In thoughtful silence we finished our talk; then there were lights and +tea and general conversation; and if Millicent had intended returning +to the subject she found no opportunity then or afterwards. + +It was better so, seeing that the other character possessed my whole +heart. _She_ was not intellectual; no one would have said of her, +for example, that she would one day blossom into a second Emily Bronte; +that to future generations her wild moorland village would be the +Haworth of the West. She was perhaps something better--a child of earth +and sun, exquisite, with her flossy hair a shining chestnut gold, her +eyes like the bugloss, her whole face like a flower or rather like a +ripe peach in bloom and colour; we are apt to associate these delicious +little beings with flavours as well as fragrances. But I am not going +to be so foolish as to attempt to describe her. + +Our first meeting was at the village spring, where the women came with +pails and pitchers for water; she came, and sitting on the stone rim of +the basin into which the water gushed, regarded me smilingly, with +questioning eyes. I started a conversation, but though smiling she was +shy. Luckily I had my luncheon, which consisted of fruit, in my +satchel, and telling her about it she grew interested and confessed to +me that of all good things fruit was what she loved best. I then opened +my stores, and selecting the brightest yellow and richest purple +fruits, told her that they were for her--on one condition--that she +would love me and give me a kiss. And she consented and came to me. O +that kiss! And what more can I find to say of it? Why nothing, unless +one of the poets, Crawshaw for preference, can tell me. "My song," I +might say with that mystic, after an angel had kissed him in the +morning, + + Tasted of that breakfast all day long. + +From that time we got on swimmingly, and were much in company, for +soon, just to be near her, I went to stay at her village. I then made +the discovery that Mab, for that is what they called her, although so +unlike, so much softer and sweeter than Millicent, was yet like her in +being a child of character and of an indomitable will. She never cried, +never argued, or listened to arguments, never demonstrated after the +fashion of wilful children generally, by throwing herself down +screaming and kicking; she simply very gently insisted on having her +own way and living her own life. In the end she always got it, and the +beautiful thing was that she never wanted to be naughty or do anything +really wrong! She took a quite wonderful interest in the life of the +little community, and would always be where others were, especially +when any gathering took place. Thus, long before I knew her at the age +of four, she made the discovery that the village children, or most of +them, passed much of their time in school, and to school she +accordingly resolved to go. Her parents opposed, and talked seriously +to her and used force to restrain her, but she overcame them in the +end, and to the school they had to take her, where she was refused +admission on account of her tender years. But she had resolved to go, +and go she would; she laid siege to the schoolmistress, to the vicar, +who told me how day after day she would come to the door of the +vicarage, and the parlour-maid would come rushing into his study to +announce, "Miss Mab to speak to you Sir," and how he would talk +seriously to her, and then tell her to run home to her mother and be a +good child. But it was all in vain, and in the end, because of her +importunity or sweetness, he had to admit her. + +When I went, during school hours, to give a talk to the children, there +I found Mab, one of the forty, sitting with her book, which told her +nothing, in her little hands. She listened to the talk with an +appearance of interest, although understanding nothing, her bugloss +eyes on me, encouraging me with a very sweet smile, whenever I looked +her way. + +It was the same about attending church. Her parents went to one service +on Sundays; she insisted on going to all three, and would sit and stand +and kneel, book in hand, as if taking a part in it all, but always when +you looked at her, her eyes would meet yours and the sweet smile would +come to her lips. + +I had been told by her mother that Mab would not have dolls and toys, +and this fact, recalled at an opportune moment, revealed to me her +secret mind--her baby philosophy. We, the inhabitants of the village, +grown-ups and children as well as the domestic animals, were her +playmates and playthings, so that she was independent of sham blue-eyed +babies made of sawdust and cotton and inanimate fluffy Teddy-bears; she +was in possession of the real thing! The cottages, streets, the church +and school, the fields and rocks and hills and sea and sky were all +contained in her nursery or playground; and we, her fellow-beings, were +all occupied from morn to night in an endless complicated game, which +varied from day to day according to the weather and time of year, and +had many beautiful surprises. She didn't understand it all, but was +determined to be in it and get all the fun she could out of it. This +mental attitude came out strikingly one day when we had a funeral-- +always a feast to the villagers; that is to say, an emotional feast; +and on this occasion the circumstances made the ceremony a peculiarly +impressive one. + +A young man, well known and generally liked, son of a small farmer, +died with tragic suddenness, and the little stone farm-house being +situated away on the borders of the parish, the funeral procession had +a considerable distance to walk to the village. To the church I went to +view its approach; built on a rock, the church stands high in the +centre of the village, and from the broad stone steps in front one got +a fine view of the inland country and of the procession like an immense +black serpent winding along over green fields and stiles, now +disappearing in some hollow ground or behind grey masses of rock, then +emerging on the sight, and the voices of the singers bursting out loud +and clear in that still atmosphere. + +When I arrived on the steps Mab was already there; the whole village +would be at that spot presently, but she was first. On that morning no +sooner had she heard that the funeral was going to take place than she +gave herself a holiday from school and made her docile mother dress her +in her daintiest clothes. She welcomed me with a glad face and put her +wee hand in mine; then the villagers--all those not in the procession-- +began to arrive, and very soon we were in the middle of a throng; then, +as the six coffin-bearers came slowly toiling up the many steps, and +the singing all at once grew loud and swept as a big wave of sound over +us, the people were shaken with emotion, and all the faces, even of the +oldest men, were wet with tears--all except ours, Mab's and mine. + +Our tearless condition--our ability to keep dry when it was raining, so +to say--resulted from quite different causes. Mine just then were the +eyes of a naturalist curiously observing the demeanour of the beings +around me. To Mab the whole spectacle was an act, an interlude, or +scene in that wonderful endless play which was a perpetual delight to +witness and in which she too was taking a part. And to see all her +friends, her grown-up playmates, enjoying themselves in this unusual +way, marching in a procession to the church, dressed in black, singing +hymns with tears in their eyes--why, this was even better than school +or Sunday service, romps in the playground or a children's tea. Every +time I looked down at my little mate she lifted a rosy face to mine +with her sweetest smile and bugloss eyes aglow with ineffable +happiness. And now that we are far apart my loveliest memory of her is +as she appeared then. I would not spoil that lovely image by going back +to look at her again. Three years! It was said of Lewis Carroll that he +ceased to care anything about his little Alices when they had come to +the age of ten. Seven is my limit: they are perfect then: but in Mab's +case the peculiar exquisite charm could hardly have lasted beyond the +age of six. + + + + +XVIII + +FRECKLES + + +My meeting with Freckles only served to confirm me in the belief, +almost amounting to a conviction, that the female of our species +reaches its full mental development at an extraordinarily early age +compared to that of the male. In the male the receptive and elastic or +progressive period varies greatly; but judging from the number of cases +one meets with of men who have continued gaining in intellectual power +to the end of their lives, in spite of physical decay, it is reasonable +to conclude that the stationary individuals are only so because of the +condition of their lives having been inimical. In fact, stagnation +strikes us as an unnatural condition of mind. The man who dies at fifty +or sixty or seventy, after progressing all his life, doubtless would, +if he had lived a lustrum or a decade longer, have attained to a still +greater height. "How disgusting it is," cried Ruskin, when he had +reached his threescore years and ten, "to find that just when one's +getting interested in life one has got to die!" Many can say as much; +all could say it, had not the mental machinery been disorganised by +some accident, or become rusted from neglect and carelessness. He who +is no more in mind at sixty than at thirty is but a half-grown man: his +is a case of arrested development. + +It is hardly necessary to remark here that the mere accumulation of +knowledge is not the same thing as power of mind and its increase: the +man who astonishes you with the amount of knowledge stored in his brain +may be no greater in mind at seventy than at twenty. + +Comparing the sexes again, we might say that the female mind reaches +perfection in childhood, long before the physical change from a +generalised to a specialised form; whereas the male retains a +generalised form to the end of life and never ceases to advance +mentally. The reason is obvious. There is no need for continued +progression in women, and Nature, like the grand old economist she is, +or can be when she likes, matures the mind quickly in one case and +slowly in the other; so slowly that he, the young male, goes crawling +on all fours as it were, a long distance after his little flying +sister--slowly because he has very far to go and must keep on for a +very, very long time. + +I met Freckles in one of those small ancient out-of-the-world market +towns of the West of England--Somerset to be precise--which are just +like large old villages, where the turnpike road is for half a mile or +so a High Street, wide at one point, where the market is held. For a +short distance there are shops on either side, succeeded by quiet +dignified houses set back among trees, then by thatched cottages, after +which succeed fields and woods. + +I had lunched at the large old inn at noon on a hot summer's day; when +I sat down a black cloud was coming up, and by-and-by there was +thunder, and when I went to the door it was raining heavily. I leant +against the frame of the door, sheltered from the wet by a small tiled +portico over my head, to wait for the storm to pass before getting on +my bicycle. Then the innkeeper's child, aged five, came out and placed +herself against the door-frame on the other side. We regarded one +another with a good deal of curiosity, for she was a queer-looking +little thing. Her head, big for her size and years, was as perfectly +round as a Dutch cheese, and her face so thickly freckled that it was +all freckles; she had confluent freckles, and as the spots and blotches +were of different shades, one could see that they overlapped like the +scales of a fish. Her head was bound tightly round with a piece of +white calico, and no hair appeared under it. + +Just to open the conversation, I remarked that she was a little girl +rich in freckles. + +"Yes, I know," she returned, "there's no one in the town with such a +freckled face." + +"And that isn't all," I went on. "Why is your head in a night-cap or a +white cloth as if you wanted to hide your hair? or haven't you got +any?" + +"I can tell you about that," she returned, not in the least resenting +my personal remarks. "It is because I've had ringworms. My head is +shaved and I'm not allowed to go to school." + +"Well," I said, "all these unpleasant experiences--ringworm, shaved +head, freckles, and expulsion from school as an undesirable person--do +not appear to have depressed you much. You appear quite happy." + +She laughed good-humouredly, then looked up out of her blue eyes as if +asking what more I had to say. + +Just then a small girl about thirteen years old passed us--a child with +a thin anxious face burnt by the sun to a dark brown, and deep-set, +dark blue, penetrating eyes. It was a face to startle one; and as she +went by she stared intently at the little freckled girl. + +Then I, to keep the talk going, said I could guess the sort of life +that child led. + +"What sort of life does she lead?" asked Freckles. + +She was, I said, a child from some small farm in the neighbourhood, and +had a very hard life, and was obliged to do a great deal more work +indoors and out than was quite good for her at her tender age. "But I +wonder why she stared at you?" I concluded. + +"Did she stare at me!--Why did she stare?" + +"I suppose it was because she saw you, a mite of a child, with a +nightcap on her head, standing here at the door of the inn talking to a +stranger just like some old woman." + +She laughed again, and said it was funny for a child of five to be +called an old woman. Then, with a sudden change to gravity, she assured +me that I had been quite right in what I had said about that little +girl. She lived with her parents on a small farm, where no maid was +kept, and the little girl did as much work or more than any maid. She +had to take the cows to pasture and bring them back; she worked in the +fields and helped in the cooking and washing, and came every day to the +town with a basket of butter, and eggs, which she had to deliver at a +number of houses. Sometimes she came twice in a day, usually in a pony- +cart, but when the pony was wanted by her father she had to come on +foot with the basket, and the farm was three miles out. On Sunday she +didn't come, but had a good deal to do at home. + +"Ah, poor little slave! No wonder she gazed at you as she did;--she was +thinking how sweet your life must be with people to love and care for +you and no hard work to do." + +"And was that what made her stare at me, and not because I had a +nightcap on and was like an old woman talking to a stranger?" This +without a smile. + +"No doubt. But you seem to know a great deal about her. Now I wonder if +you can tell me something about this beautiful young lady with an +umbrella coming towards us? I should much like to know who she is--and +I should like to call on her." + +"Yes, I can tell you all about her. She is Miss Eva Langton, and lives +at the White House. You follow the street till you get out of the town +where there is a pond at this end of the common, and just a little the +other side of the pond there are big trees, and behind the trees a +white gate. That's the gate of the White House, only you can't see it +because the trees are in the way. Are you going to call on her?" + +I explained that I did not know her, and though I wished I did because +she was so pretty, it would not perhaps be quite right to go to her +house to see her. + +"I'm sorry you're not going to call, she's such a nice young lady. +Everybody likes her." And then, after a few moments, she looked up with +a smile, and said, "Is there anything else I can tell you about the +people of the town? There's a man going by in the rain with a lot of +planks on his head--would you like to know who he is and all about +him?" + +"Oh yes, certainly," I replied. "But of course I don't care so much +about him as I do about that little brown girl from the farm, and the +nice Miss Langton from the White House. But it's really very pleasant +to listen to you whatever you talk about. I really think you one of the +most charming little girls I have ever met, and I wonder what you will +be like in another five years. I think I must come and see for myself." + +"Oh, will you come back in five years? Just to see me! My hair will be +grown then and I won't have a nightcap on, and I'll try to wash off the +freckles before you come." + +"No, don't," I said. "I had forgotten all about them--I think they are +very nice." + +She laughed, then looking up a little archly, said: "You are saying all +that just for fun, are you not?" + +"Oh no, nothing of the sort. Just look at me, and say if you do not +believe what I tell you." + +"Yes, I do," she answered frankly enough, looking full in my eyes with +a great seriousness in her own. + +That sudden seriousness and steady gaze; that simple, frank +declaration! Would five years leave her in that stage? I fancy not, for +at ten she would be self-conscious, and the loss would be greater than +the gain. No, I would not come back in five years to see what she was +like. + +That was the end of our talk. She looked towards the wet street and her +face changed, and with a glad cry she darted out. The rain was over, +and a big man in a grey tweed coat was coming across the road to our +side. She met him half-way, and bending down he picked her up and set +her on his shoulder and marched with her into the house. + +There were others, it seemed, who were able to appreciate her bright +mind and could forget all about her freckles and her nightcap. + + + + +XIX + +ON CROMER BEACH + + +It is true that when little girls become self-conscious they lose their +charm, or the best part of it; they are at their best as a rule from +five to seven, after which begins a slow, almost imperceptible decline +(or evolution, if you like) until the change is complete. The charm in +decline was not good enough for Lewis Carroll; the successive little +favourites, we learn, were always dropped at about ten. That was the +limit. Perhaps he perceived, with a rare kind of spiritual sagacity +resembling that of certain animals with regard to approaching weather- +changes, that something had come into their heart, or would shortly +come, which would make them no longer precious to him. But that which +had made them precious was not far to seek: he would find it elsewhere, +and could afford to dismiss his Alice for the time being from his heart +and life, and even from his memory, without a qualm. + +To my seven-years' rule there are, however, many exceptions--little +girls who keep the child's charm in spite of the changes which years +and a newly developing sense can bring to them. I have met with some +rare instances of the child being as much to us at ten as at five. + +One instance which I have in my mind just now is of a little girl of +nine, or perhaps nearly ten, and it seemed to me in this case that this +new sense, the very quality which is the spoiler of the child-charm, +may sometimes have the effect of enhancing it or revealing it in a new +and more beautiful aspect. + +I met her at Cromer, where she was one of a small group of five +visitors; three ladies, one old, the others middle-aged, and a middle- +aged gentleman. He and one of the two younger ladies were perhaps her +parents, and the elderly lady her grandmother. What and who these +people were I never heard, nor did I enquire; but the child attracted +me, and in a funny way we became acquainted, and though we never +exchanged more than a dozen words, I felt that we were quite intimate +and very dear friends. + +The little group of grown-ups and the child were always together on the +front, where I was accustomed to see them sitting or slowly walking up +and down, always deep in conversation and very serious, always +regarding the more or less gaudily attired females on the parade with +an expression of repulsion. They were old-fashioned in dress and +appearance, invariably in black--black silk and black broadcloth. I +concluded that they were serious people, that they had inherited and +faithfully kept a religion, or religious temper, which has long been +outlived by the world in general--a puritanism or Evangelicalism dating +back to the far days of Wilberforce and Hannah More and the ancient +Sacred order of Claphamites. + +And the child was serious with them and kept pace with them with slow +staid steps. But she was beautiful, and under the mask and mantle which +had been imposed on her had a shining child's soul. Her large eyes were +blue, the rare blue of a perfect summer's day. There was no need to ask +her where she had got that colour; undoubtedly in heaven "as she came +through." The features were perfect, and she pale, or so it had seemed +to me at first, but when viewing her more closely I saw that colour was +an important element in her loveliness--a colour so delicate that I +fell to comparing her flower-like face with this or that particular +flower. I had thought of her as a snowdrop at first, then a windflower, +the March anemone, with its touch of crimson, then various white, +ivory, and cream-coloured blossoms with a faintly-seen pink blush to +them. + +Her dress, except the stocking, was not black; it was grey or dove- +colour, and over it a cream or pale-fawn-coloured cloak with hood, +which with its lace border seemed just the right setting for the +delicate puritan face. She walked in silence while they talked and +talked, ever in grave subdued tones. Indeed it would not have been +seemly for her to open her lips in such company. I called her +Priscilla, but she was also like Milton's pensive nun, devout and pure, +only her looks were not commercing with the skies; they were generally +cast down, although it is probable that they did occasionally venture +to glance at the groups of merry pink-legged children romping with the +waves below. + +I had seen her three or four or more times on the front before we +became acquainted; and she too had noticed me, just raising her blue +eyes to mine when we passed one another, with a shy sweet look of +recognition in them--a questioning look; so that we were not exactly +strangers. Then, one morning, I sat on the front when the black-clothed +group came by, deep in serious talk as usual, the silent child with +them, and after a turn or two they sat down beside me. The tide was at +its full and children were coming down to their old joyous pastime of +paddling. They were a merry company. After watching them I glanced at +my little neighbour and caught her eyes, and she knew what the question +in my mind was--Why are not you with them? And she was pleased and +troubled at the same time, and her face was all at once in a glow of +beautiful colour; it was the colour of the almond blossom;--her sister +flower on this occasion. + +A day or two later we were more fortunate. I went before breakfast to +the beach and was surprised to find her there watching the tide coming +in; in a moment of extreme indulgence her mother, or her people, had +allowed her to run down to look at the sea for a minute by herself. She +was standing on the shingle, watching the green waves break frothily at +her feet, her pale face transfigured with a gladness which seemed +almost unearthly. Even then in that emotional moment the face kept its +tender flower-like character; I could only compare it to the sweet-pea +blossom, ivory white or delicate pink; that Psyche-like flower with +wings upraised to fly, and expression of infantile innocence and fairy- +like joy in life. + +I walked down to her and we then exchanged our few and only words. How +beautiful the sea was, and how delightful to watch the waves coming in! +I remarked. She smiled and replied that it was very, very beautiful. +Then a bigger wave came and compelled us to step hurriedly back to save +our feet from a wetting, and we laughed together. Just at that spot +there was a small rock on which I stepped and asked her to give me her +hand, so that we could stand together and let the next wave rush by +without wetting us. "Oh, do you think I may?" she said, almost +frightened at such an adventure. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she +put her hand in mine, and we stood on the little fragment of rock, and +she watched the water rush up and surround us and break on the beach +with a fearful joy. And after that wonderful experience she had to +leave me; she had only been allowed out by herself for five minutes, +she said, and so, after a grateful smile, she hurried back. + +Our next encounter was on the parade, where she appeared as usual with +her people, and nothing beyond one swift glance of recognition and +greeting could pass between us. But it was a quite wonderful glance she +gave me, it said so much:--that we had a great secret between us and +were friends and comrades for ever. It would take half a page to tell +all that was conveyed in that glance. "I'm so glad to see you," it +said, "I was beginning to fear you had gone away. And now how +unfortunate that you see me with my people and we cannot speak! They +wouldn't understand. How could they, since they don't belong to our +world and know what we know? If I were to explain that we are different +from them, that we want to play together on the beach and watch the +waves and paddle and build castles, they would say, 'Oh yes, that's all +very well, but--' I shouldn't know what they meant by that, should you? +I do hope we'll meet again some day and stand once more hand in hand on +the beach--don't you?" + +And with that she passed on and was gone, and I saw her no more. +Perhaps that glance which said so much had been observed, and she had +been hurriedly removed to some place of safety at a great distance. But +though I never saw her again, never again stood hand in hand with her +on the beach and never shall, I have her picture to keep in all its +flowery freshness and beauty, the most delicate and lovely perhaps of +all the pictures I possess of the little girls I have met. + + + + +XX + +DIMPLES + + +It is not pleasant when you have had your say, made your point to your +own satisfaction, and gone cheerfully on to some fresh subject, to be +assailed with the suspicion that your interlocutor is saying mentally: +All very well--very pretty talk, no doubt, but you haven't convinced +me, and I even doubt that you have succeeded in convincing yourself! + +For example, a reader of the foregoing notes may say: "If you really +find all this beauty and charm and fascination you tell us in some +little girls, you must love them. You can't admire and take delight in +them as you can in a piece of furniture, or tapestry, or a picture or +statue or a stone of great brilliancy and purity of colour, or in any +beautiful inanimate object, without that emotion coming in to make +itself part of and one with your admiration. You can't, simply because +a child is a human being, and we do not want to lose sight of the being +we love. So long as the love lasts, the eye would follow its steps +because--we are what we are, and a mere image in the mind doesn't +satisfy the heart. Love is never satisfied, and asks not for less and +less each day but for more--always for more. Then, too, love is +credulous; it believes and imagines all things and, like all emotions, +it pushes reason and experience aside and sticks to the belief that +these beautiful qualities cannot die and leave nothing behind: they are +not on the surface only; they have their sweet permanent roots in the +very heart and centre of being." + +That, I suppose, is the best argument on the other side, and if you +look straight at it for six seconds, you will see it dissolve like a +lump of sugar in a tumbler of water and disappear under your very eyes. +For the fact remains that when I listen to the receding footsteps of my +little charmer, the sigh that escapes me expresses something of relief +as well as regret. The signs of change have perhaps not yet appeared, +and I wish not to see them. Good-bye, little one, we part in good time, +and may we never meet again! Undoubtedly one loses something, but it +cannot balance the gain. The loss in any case was bound to come, and +had I waited for it no gain would have been possible. As it is, I am +like that man in _The Pilgrim's Progress_, by some accounted mad, +who the more he cast away the more he had. And the way of it is this; +by losing my little charmers before they cease from charming, I make +them mine for always, in a sense. They are made mine because my mind +(other minds, too) is made that way. That which I see with delight I +continue to see when it is no more there, and will go on seeing to the +end: at all events I fail to detect any sign of decay or fading in +these mind pictures. There are people with money who collect gems-- +diamonds, rubies and other precious stones--who value their treasures +as their best possessions, and take them out from time to time to +examine and gloat over them. These things are trash to me compared with +the shining, fadeless images in my mind, which are my treasures and +best possessions. But the bright and beauteous images of the little +girl charmers would not have been mine if instead of letting the +originals disappear from my ken I had kept them too long in it. All +because our minds, our memories are made like that. If we see a thing +once, or several times, we see it ever after as we first saw it; if we +go on seeing it every day or every week for years and years, we do not +register a countless series of new distinct impressions, recording all +its changes: the new impressions fall upon and obliterate the others, +and it is like a series of photographs, not arranged side by side for +future inspection, but in a pile, the top one alone remaining visible. +Looking at this insipid face you would not believe, if told, that once +upon a time it was beautiful to you and had a great charm. The early +impressions are lost, the charm forgotten. + +This reminds me of the incident I set out to narrate when I wrote +"Dimples" at the head of this note. I was standing at a busy corner in +a Kensington thoroughfare waiting for a bus, when a group of three +ladies appeared and came to a stand a yard or two from me and waited, +too, for the traffic to pass before attempting to cross to the other +side. One was elderly and feeble and was holding the arm of another of +the trio, who was young and pretty. Her age was perhaps twenty; she was +of medium height, slim, with a nice figure and nicely dressed. She was +a blonde, with light blue-grey eyes and fluffy hair of pale gold: there +was little colour in her face, but the features were perfect and the +mouth with its delicate curves quite beautiful. + +But after regarding her attentively for a minute or so, looking out +impatiently for my bus at the same time, I said mentally: "Yes, you are +certainly very pretty, perhaps beautiful, but I don't like you and I +don't want you. There's nothing in you to correspond to that nice +outside. You are an exception to the rule that the beautiful is the +good. Not that you are bad--actively, deliberately bad--you haven't the +strength to be that or anything else; you have only a little shallow +mind and a little coldish heart." + +Now I can imagine one of my lady readers crying out: "How dared you say +such monstrous things of any person after just a glance at her face?" + +Listen to me, madam, and you will agree that I was not to blame for +saying these monstrous things. All my life I've had the instinct or +habit of seeing the things I see; that is to say, seeing them not as +cloud or mist-shapes for ever floating past, nor as people in endless +procession "seen rather than distinguished," but distinctly, +separately, as individuals each with a character and soul of its very +own; and while seeing it in that way some little unnamed faculty in +some obscure corner of my brain hastily scribbles a label to stick on +to the object or person before it passes out of sight. It can't be +prevented; it goes on automatically; it isn't _me_, and I can no +more interfere or attempt in any way to restrain or regulate its action +than I can take my legs to task for running up a flight of steps +without the mind's supervision. + +But I haven't finished with the young lady yet. I had no sooner said +what I have said and was just about to turn my eyes away and forget all +about her, when, in response to some remarks of her aged companion, she +laughed, and in laughing so great a change came into her face that it +was as if she had been transformed into another being. It was like a +sudden breath of wind and a sunbeam falling on the still cold surface +of a woodland pool. The eyes, icily cold a moment before, had warm +sunlight in them, and the half-parted lips with a flash of white teeth +between them had gotten a new beauty; and most remarkable of all was a +dimple which appeared and in its swift motions seemed to have a life of +its own, flitting about the corner of the mouth, then further away to +the middle of the cheek and back again. A dimple that had a story to +tell. For dimples, too, like a delicate, mobile mouth, and even like +eyes, have a character of their own. And no sooner had I seen that +sudden change in the expression, and especially the dimple, than I knew +the face; it was a face I was familiar with and was like no other face +in the world, yet I could not say who she was nor where and when I had +known her! Then, when the smile faded and the dimple vanished, she was +a stranger again--the pretty young person with the shallow brain that I +did not like! + +Naturally my mind worried itself with this puzzle of a being with two +distinct expressions, one strange to me, the other familiar, and it +went on worrying me all that day until I could stand it no longer, and +to get rid of the matter, I set up the theory (which didn't quite +convince me) that the momentary expression I had seen was like an +expression in some one I had known in the far past. But after +dismissing the subject in that way, the subconscious mind was still no +doubt working at it, for two days later it all at once flashed into my +mind that my mysterious young lady was no other than the little Lillian +I had known so well eight years before! She was ten years old when I +first knew her, and I was quite intimately acquainted with her for a +little over a year, and greatly admired her for her beauty and charm, +especially when she smiled and that dimple flew about the corner of her +mouth like a twilight moth vaguely fluttering at the rim of a red +flower. But alas! her charm was waning: she was surrounded by relations +who adored her, and was intensely self-conscious, so that when after a +year her people moved to a new district, I was not sorry to break the +connection, and to forget all about her. + +Now that I had seen and remembered her again, it was a consolation to +think that she was already in her decline when I first knew and was +attracted by her and on that account had never wholly lost my heart to +her. How different my feelings would have been if after pronouncing +that irrevocable judgment, I had recognised one of my vanished +darlings--one, say, like that child on Cromer Beach, or of dozens of +other fairylike little ones I have known and loved, and whose images +are enduring and sacred! + + + + +XXI + +WILD FLOWERS AND LITTLE GIRLS + + +Thinking of the numerous company of little girls of infinite charm I +have met, and of their evanishment, I have a vision of myself on +horseback on the illimitable green level pampas, under the wide sunlit +cerulean sky in late September or early October, when the wild flowers +are at their best before the wilting heats of summer. + +Seeing the flowers so abundant, I dismount and lead my horse by the +bridle and walk knee-deep in the lush grass, stooping down at every +step to look closely at the shy, exquisite blooms in their dewy morning +freshness and divine colours. Flowers of an inexpressible unearthly +loveliness and unforgettable; for how forget them when their images +shine in memory in all their pristine morning brilliance! + +That is how I remember and love to remember them, in that first fresh +aspect, not as they appear later, the petals wilted or dropped, sun- +browned, ripening their seed and fruit. + +And so with the little human flowers. I love to remember and think of +them as flowers, not as ripening or ripened into young ladies, wives, +matrons, mothers of sons and daughters. + +As little girls, as human flowers, they shone and passed out of sight. +Only of one do I think differently, the most exquisite among them, the +most beautiful in body and soul, or so I imagine, perhaps because of +the manner of her vanishing even while my eyes were still on her. That +was Dolly, aged eight, and because her little life finished then she is +the one that never faded, never changed. + +Here are some lines I wrote when grief at her going was still fresh. +They were in a monthly magazine at that time years ago, and were set to +music, although not very successfully, and I wish it could be done +again. + + Should'st thou come to me again + From the sunshine and the rain, + With thy laughter sweet and free, + O how should I welcome thee! + + Like a streamlet dark and cold + Kindled into fiery gold + By a sunbeam swift that cleaves + Downward through the curtained leaves; + + So this darkened life of mine + Lit with sudden joy would shine, + And to greet thee I should start + With a great cry in my heart. + + Back to drop again, the cry + On my trembling lips would die: + Thou would'st pass to be again + With the sunshine and the rain. + + + + +XXII + +A LITTLE GIRL LOST + + +Yet once more, O ye little girls, I come to bid you a last good-bye--a +very last one this time. Not to you, living little girls, seeing that I +must always keep a fair number of you on my visiting list, but to a +fascinating theme I had to write about. For I did really and truly +think I had quite finished with it, and now all at once I find myself +compelled by a will stronger than my own to make this one further +addition. The will of a little girl who is not present and is lost to +me--a wordless message from a distance, to tell me that she is not to +be left out of this gallery. And no sooner has her message come than I +find there are several good reasons why she should be included, the +first and obvious one being that she will be a valuable acquisition, an +ornament to the said gallery. And here I will give a second reason, a +very important one (to the psychological minded at all events), but not +the most important of all, for that must be left to the last. + +In the foregoing impressions of little girls I have touched on the +question of the child's age when that "little agitation in the brain +called thought," begins. There were two remarkable cases given; one, +the child who climbed upon my knee to amaze and upset me by her +pessimistic remarks about life; the second, my little friend Nesta-- +that was her name and she is still on my visiting list--who revealed +her callow mind striving to grasp an abstract idea--the idea of time +apart from some visible or tangible object. Now these two were aged +five years; but what shall we say of the child, the little girl-child +who steps out of the cradle, so to speak, as a being breathing +thoughtful breath? + +It makes me think of the cradle as the cocoon or chrysalis in which, as +by a miracle (for here natural and supernatural seem one and the same), +the caterpillar has undergone his transformation and emerging spreads +his wings and forthwith takes his flight a full-grown butterfly with +all its senses and faculties complete. + +Walking on the sea front at Worthing one late afternoon in late +November, I sat down at one end of a seat in a shelter, the other end +being occupied by a lady in black, and between us, drawn close up to +the seat, was a perambulator in which a little girl was seated. She +looked at me, as little girls always do, with that question--What are +you? in her large grey intelligent eyes. The expression tempted me to +address her, and I said I hoped she was quite well. + +"O yes," she returned readily. "I am quite well, thank you." + +"And may I know how old you are?" + +"Yes, I am just three years old." + +I should have thought, I said, that as she looked a strong healthy +child she would have been able to walk and run about at the age of +three. + +She replied that she could walk and run as well as any child, and that +she had her pram just to sit and rest in when tired of walking. + +Then, after apologising for putting so many questions to her, I asked +her if she could tell me her name. + +"My name," she said, "is Rose Mary Catherine Maude Caversham," or some +such name. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the lady in black, opening her lips for the first time, +and speaking sharply. "You must not say all those names! It is enough +to say your name is Rose." + +The child turned and looked at her, studying her face, and then with +heightened colour and with something like indignation in her tone, she +replied: "That _is_ my name! Why should I not tell it when I am +asked?" + +The lady said nothing, and the child turned her face to me again. + +I said it was a very pretty name and I had been pleased to hear it, and +glad she told it to me without leaving anything out. + +Silence still on the part of the lady. + +"I think," I resumed, "that you are a rather wonderful child;--have +they taught you the ABC?" + +"Oh no, they don't teach me things like that--I pick all that up." + +"And one and one make two--do you pick that up as well?" + +"Yes, I pick that up as well." + +"Then," said I, recollecting Humpty Dumpty's question in arithmetic to +Alice, "how much is one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one?"-- +speaking it as it should be spoken, very rapidly. + +She looked at me quite earnestly for a moment, then said, "And can +_you_ tell me how much is two-an'-two-an'-two-an'-two-an'-two-an'- +two?"--and several more two's all in a rapid strain. + +"No," I said, "you have turned the tables on me very cleverly. But tell +me, do they teach you nothing?" + +"Oh yes, they teach me something!" Then dropping her head a little on +one side and lifting her little hands she began practising scales on +the bar of her pram. Then, looking at me with a half-smile on her lips, +she said: "That's what they teach me." + +After a little further conversation she told me she was from London, +and was down with her people for their holiday. + +I said it seemed strange to me she should be having a holiday so late +in the season. "Look," I said, "at that cold grey sea and the great +stretch of sand with only one group of two or three children left on it +with their little buckets and spades." + +"Yes," she said, in a meditative way; "it is very late." Then, after a +pause, she turned towards me with an expression in her face which said +plainly enough: I am now going to give you a little confidential +information. Her words were: "The fact is we are just waiting for the +baby." + +"Oh!" screamed the lady in black. "Why have you said such a thing! You +must not say such things!" + +And again the child turned her head and looked earnestly, inquiringly +at the lady, trying, as one could see from her face, to understand why +she was not to say such a thing. But now she was not sure of her ground +as on the other occasion of being rebuked. There was a mystery here +about the expected baby which she could not fathom. Why was it wrong +for her to mention that simple fact? That question was on her face when +she looked at her attendant, the lady in black, and as no answer was +forthcoming, either from the lady, or out of her own head, she turned +to me again, the dissatisfied expression still in her eyes; then it +passed away and she smiled. It was a beautiful smile, all the more +because it came only at rare intervals and quickly vanished, because, +as it seemed to me, she was all the time thinking too closely about +what was being said to smile easily or often. And the rarity of her +smile made her sense of humour all the more apparent. She was not like +Marjorie Fleming, that immortal little girl, who was wont to be angry +when offensively condescending grown-ups addressed her as a babe in +intellect. For Marjorie had no real sense of humour; all the humour of +her literary composition, verse and prose, was of the unconscious +variety. This child was only amused at being taken for a baby. + +Then came the parting. I said I had spent a most delightful hour with +her, and she, smiling once more put out her tiny hand, and said in the +sweetest voice: "Perhaps we shall meet again." Those last five words! +If she had been some great lady, an invalid in a bath-chair, who had +conversed for half an hour with a perfect stranger and had wished to +express the pleasure and interest she had had in the colloquy, she +could not have said more, nor less, nor said it more graciously, more +beautifully. + +But we did not meet again, for when I looked for her she was not there: +she had gone out of my life, like Priscilla, and like so many beautiful +things that vanish and return not. + +And now I return to what I said at the beginning--that there were +several reasons for including this little girl in my series of +impressions. The most important one has been left until now. I want to +meet her again, but how shall I find her in this immensity of London-- +these six millions of human souls! Let me beg of any reader who knows +Rose Mary Angela Catherine Maude Caversham--a name like that--who has +identified her from my description--that he will inform me of her +whereabouts. + + + + +XXIII + +A SPRAY OF SOUTHERNWOOD + + +To pass from little girls to little boys is to go into quite another, +an inferior, coarser world. No doubt there are wonderful little boys, +but as a rule their wonderfulness consists in a precocious intellect: +this kind doesn't appeal to me, so that if I were to say anything on +the matter, it would be a prejudiced judgment. Even the ordinary +civilised little boy, the nice little gentleman who is as much at home +in the drawing-room as at his desk in the school-room or with a bat in +the playing-field--even that harmless little person seems somehow +unnatural, or denaturalised to my primitive taste. A result, I will +have it, of improper treatment. He has been under the tap, too +thoroughly scrubbed, boiled, strained and served up with melted butter +and a sprig of parsley for ornament in a gilt-edged dish. I prefer him +raw, and would rather have the street-Arab, if in town, and the +unkempt, rough and tough cottage boy in the country. But take them +civilised or natural, those who love and observe little children no +more expect to find that peculiar exquisite charm of the girl-child +which I have endeavoured to describe in the boy, than they would expect +the music of the wood-lark and the airy fairy grace and beauty of the +grey wagtail in Philip Sparrow. And yet, incredible as it seems, that +very quality of the miraculous little girl is sometimes found in the +boy and, with it, strange to say, the boy's proper mind and spirit. The +child lover will meet with one of that kind once in ten years, or not +so often--not oftener than a collector of butterflies will meet with a +Camberwell Beauty. The miraculous little girl, we know, is not more +uncommon than the Painted Lady, or White Admiral. And I will here give +a picture of such a boy--the child associated in my mind with a spray +of southernwood. + +And after this impression, I shall try to give one or two of ordinary +little boys. These live in memory like the little girls I have written +about, not, it will be seen, because of their boy nature, seeing that +the boy has nothing miraculous, nothing to capture the mind and +register an enduring impression in it, as in the case of the girl; but +owing solely to some unusual circumstance in their lives--something +adventitious. + +It was hot and fatiguing on the Wiltshire Downs, and when I had toiled +to the highest point of a big hill where a row of noble Scotch firs +stood at the roadside, I was glad to get off my bicycle and rest in the +shade. Fifty or sixty yards from the spot where I sat on the bank on a +soft carpet of dry grass and pine-needles, there was a small, old, +thatched cottage, the only human habitation in sight except the little +village at the foot of the hill, just visible among the trees a mile +ahead. An old woman in the cottage had doubtless seen me going by, for +she now came out into the road, and, shading her eyes with her hand, +peered curiously at me. A bent and lean old woman in a dingy black +dress, her face brown and wrinkled, her hair white. With her, watching +me too, was a little mite of a boy; and after they had stood there a +while he left her and went into the cottage garden, but presently came +out into the road again and walked slowly towards me. It was strange to +see that child in such a place! He had on a scarlet shirt or blouse, +wide lace collar, and black knickerbockers and stockings; but it was +his face rather than his clothes that caused me to wonder. Rarely had I +seen a more beautiful child, such a delicate rose-coloured skin, and +fine features, eyes of such pure intense blue, and such shining golden +hair. How came this angelic little being in that poor remote cottage +with that bent and wrinkled old woman for a guardian? + +He walked past me very slowly, a sprig of southernwood in his hand; +then after going by he stopped and turned, and approaching me in a shy +manner and without saying a word offered me the little pale green +feathery spray. I took it and thanked him, and we entered into +conversation, when I discovered that his little mind was as bright and +beautiful as his little person. He loved the flowers, both garden and +wild, but above everything he loved the birds; he watched them to find +their nests; there was nothing he liked better than to look at the +little spotted eggs in the nest. He could show me a nest if I wanted to +see one, only the little bird was sitting on her eggs. He was six years +old, and that cottage was his home--he knew no other; and the old bent +woman standing there in the road was his mother. They didn't keep a +pig, but they kept a yellow cat, only he was lost now; he had gone +away, and they didn't know where to find him. He went to school now--he +walked all the way there by himself and all the way back every day. It +was very hard at first, because the other boys laughed at and plagued +him. Then they hit him, but he hit them back as hard as he could. After +that they hurt him, but they couldn't make him cry. He never cried, and +always hit them back, and now they were beginning to leave him alone. +His father was named Mr. Job, and he worked at the farm, but he +couldn't do so much work now because he was such an old man. Sometimes +when he came home in the evening he sat in his chair and groaned as if +it hurt him. And he had two sisters; one was Susan; she was married and +had three big girls; and Jane was married too, but had no children. +They lived a great way off. So did his brother. His name was Jim, and +he was a great fat man and sometimes came from London, where he lived, +to see them. He didn't know much about Jim; he was very silent, but not +with mother. Those two would shut themselves up together and talk and +talk, but no one knew what they were talking about. He would write to +mother too; but she would always hide the letters and say to father: +"It's only from Jim; he says he's very well--that's all." But they were +very long letters, so he must have said more than that. + +Thus he prattled, while I, to pay him for the southernwood, drew +figures of the birds he knew best on the leaves I tore from my note- +book and gave them to him. He thanked me very prettily and put them in +his pocket. + +"And what is your name?" I asked. + +He drew himself up before me and in a clear voice, pronouncing the +words in a slow measured manner, as if repeating a lesson, he answered: +"Edmund Jasper Donisthorpe Stanley Overington." + +The name so astonished me that I remained silent for quite two minutes +during which I repeated it to myself many times to fix it in my memory. + +"But why," said I at length, "do you call yourself Overington when your +father's name is Job?" + +"Oh, that is because I have two fathers--Mr. Job, my very old father, +and Mr. Overington, who lives away from here. He comes to see me +sometimes, and he is my father too; but I have only one mother--there +she is out again looking at us." + +I questioned him no further, and no further did I seek those mysteries +to disclose, and so we parted; but I never see a plant or sprig of +southernwood, nor inhale its cedarwood smell, which one does not know +whether to like or dislike, without recalling the memory of that +miraculous cottage child with a queer history and numerous names. + + + + +XXIV + +IN PORTCHESTER CHURCHYARD + + +To the historically and archaeologically minded the castle and walls at +Portchester are of great importance. Romans, Britons, Saxons, Normans-- +they all made use of this well-defended place for long centuries, and +it still stands, much of it well preserved, to be explored and admired +by many thousands of visitors every year. What most interested me was +the sight of two small boys playing in the churchyard. The village +church, as at Silchester, is inside the old Roman walls, in a corner, +the village itself being some distance away. After strolling round the +churchyard I sat down on a stone under the walls and began watching the +two boys--little fellows of the cottage class from the village who had +come, each with a pair of scissors, to trim the turf on two adjoining +mounds. The bigger of the two, who was about ten years old, was very +diligent and did his work neatly, trimming the grass evenly and giving +the mound a nice smooth appearance. The other boy was not so much +absorbed in his work; he kept looking up and making jeering remarks and +faces at the other, and at intervals his busy companion put down his +shears and went for him with tremendous spirit. Then a chase among and +over the graves would begin; finally, they would close, struggle, +tumble over a mound and pommel one another with all their might. The +struggle over, they would get up, shake off the dust and straws, and go +back to their work. After a few minutes the youngest boy recovered from +his punishment, and, getting tired of the monotony, would begin teasing +again, and a fresh flight and battle would ensue. + +By-and-by, after witnessing several of these fights, I went down and +sat on a mound next to theirs and entered into conversation with them. + +"Whose grave are you trimming?" I asked the elder boy. + +It was his sister's, he said, and when I asked him how long she had +been dead, he answered, "Twenty years." She had died more than ten +years before he was born. He said there had been eight of them born, +and he was the youngest of the lot; his eldest brother was married and +had children five or six years old. Only one of the eight had died-- +this sister, when she was a little girl. Her name was Mary, and one day +every week his mother sent him to trim the mound. He did not remember +when it began--he must have been very small. He had to trim the grass, +and in summer to water it so as to keep it always smooth and fresh and +green. + +Before he had finished his story the other little fellow, who was not +interested in it and was getting tired again, began in a low voice to +mock at his companion, repeating his words after him. Then my little +fellow, with a very serious, resolute air, put the scissors down, and +in a moment they were both up and away, doubling this way and that, +bounding over the mounds, like two young dogs at play, until, rolling +over together, they fought again in the grass. There I left them and +strolled away, thinking of the mother busy and cheerful in her cottage +over there in the village, but always with that image of the little +girl, dead these twenty years, in her heart. + + + + +XXV + +HOMELESS + + +One cold morning at Penzance I got into an omnibus at the station to +travel to the small town of St. Just, six or seven miles away. Just +before we started, a party of eight or ten queer-looking people came +hurriedly up and climbed to the top seats. They were men and women, +with two or three children, the women carelessly dressed, the men +chalky-faced and long-haired, in ulsters of light colours and large +patterns. When we had travelled two or three miles one of the outside +passengers climbed down and came in to escape from the cold, and edged +into a place opposite mine. He was a little boy of about seven or eight +years old, and he had a small, quaint face with a tired expression on +it, and wore a soiled scarlet Turkish fez on his head, and a big +pepper-and-salt overcoat heavily trimmed with old, ragged imitation +astrachan. He was keenly alive to the sensation his entrance created +among us when the loud buzz of conversation ceased very suddenly and +all eyes were fixed on him; but he bore it very bravely, sitting back +in his seat, rubbing his cold hands together, then burying them deep in +his pockets and fixing his eyes on the roof. Soon the talk recommenced, +and the little fellow, wishing to feel more free, took his hands out +and tried to unbutton his coat. The top button--a big horn button-- +resisted the efforts he made with his stiff little fingers, so I undid +it for him and threw the coat open, disclosing a blue jersey striped +with red, green velvet knickerbockers, and black stockings, all soiled +like the old scarlet flower-pot shaped cap. In his get-up he reminded +me of a famous music-master and composer of my acquaintance, whose +sense of harmony is very perfect with regard to sounds, but exceedingly +crude as to colours. Imagine a big, long-haired man arrayed in a +bottle-green coat, scarlet waistcoat, pink necktie, blue trousers, +white hat, purple gloves and yellow boots! If it were not for the fact +that he wears his clothes a very long time and never has them brushed +or the grease spots taken out, the effect would be almost painful. But +he selects his colours, whereas the poor little boy probably had no +choice in the matter. + +By-and-by the humorous gentlemen who sat on either side of him began to +play him little tricks, one snatching off his scarlet cap and the other +blowing on his neck. He laughed a little, just to show that he didn't +object to a bit of fun at his expense, but when the annoyance was +continued he put on a serious face, and folding up his cap thrust it +into his overcoat pocket. He was not going to be made a butt of! + +"Where is your home?" I asked him. + +"I haven't got a home," he returned. + +"What, no home? Where was your home when you had one?" + +"I never had a home," he said. "I've always been travelling; but +sometimes we stay a month in a place." Then, after an interval, he +added: "I belong to a dramatic company." + +"And do you ever go on the stage to act?" I asked. + +"Yes," he returned, with a weary little sigh. + +Then our journey came to an end, and we saw the doors and windows of +the St. Just Working Men's Institute aflame with yellow placards +announcing a series of sensational plays to be performed there. + +The queer-looking people came down and straggled off to the Institute, +paying no attention to the small boy. "Let me advise you," I said, +standing over him on the pavement, "to treat yourself to a stiff +tumbler of grog after your cold ride," and at the same time I put my +hand in my pocket. + +He didn't smile, but at once held out his open hand. I put some pence +in it, and clutching them he murmured "Thank you," and went after the +others. + + + + +XXVI + +THE STORY OF A SKULL + + +A quarter of a century ago there were still to be seen in the outer +suburbs of London many good old roomy houses, standing in their own +ample and occasionally park-like grounds, which have now ceased to +exist. They were old manor-houses, mostly of the Georgian period, some +earlier, and some, too, were fine large farmhouses which a century or +more ago had been turned into private residences of city merchants and +other persons of means. Any middle-aged Londoner can recall a house or +perhaps several houses of this description, and in one of those that +were best known to me I met with the skull, the story of which I wish +to tell. + +It was a very old-looking, long, low red-brick building, with a +verandah in front, and being well within the grounds, sheltered by old +oak, elm, ash and beech trees, could hardly be seen from the road. The +lawns and gardens were large, and behind them were two good-sized grass +fields. Within the domain one had the feeling that he was far away in +the country in one of its haunts of ancient peace, and yet all round +it, outside of its old hedges and rows of elms, the ground had been +built over, mostly with good-sized brick houses standing in their own +gardens. It was a favourite suburb with well-to-do persons in the city, +rents were high and the builders had long been coveting and trying to +get possession of all this land which was "doing no good," in a +district where haunts of ancients peace were distinctly out of place +and not wanted. But the owner (aged ninety-eight) refused to sell. + +Not only the builders, but his own sons and sons' sons had represented +to him that the rent he was getting for this property was nothing but +an old song compared to what it would bring in, if he would let it on a +long building lease. There was room there for thirty or forty good +houses with big gardens. And his answer invariably was: "It shan't be +touched! I was born in that house, and though I'm too old ever to go +and see it again, it must not be pulled down--not a brick of it, not a +tree cut, while I'm alive. When I'm gone you can do what you like, +because then I shan't know what you are doing." + +My friends and relations, who were in occupation of the house, and +loved it, hoped that he would go on living many, many years: but alas! +the visit of the feared dark angel was to them and not to the old +owner, who was perhaps "too old to die"; the dear lady of the house and +its head was taken away and the family broken up, and from that day to +this I have never ventured to revisit that sweet spot, nor sought to +know what has been done to it. + +At that time it used to be my week-end home, and on one of my early +visits I noticed the skull of an animal nailed to the wall about a yard +above the stable door. It was too high to be properly seen without +getting a ladder, and when the gardener told me that it was a bulldog's +skull, I thought no more about it. + +One day, several months later, I took a long look at it and got the +idea that it was not a bulldog's skull--that it was more like the skull +of a human being of a very low type. I then asked my hostess to let me +have it, and she said, "Yes, certainly, take it if you want it." Then +she added, "But what in the world do you want that horrid old skull +for?" I said I wanted to find out what it was, and then she told me +that it was a bulldog's skull--the gardener had told her. I replied +that I did not think so, that it looked to me more like the skull of a +cave-man who had inhabited those parts half a million years ago, +perhaps. This speech troubled her very much, for she was a religious +woman, and it pained her to hear unorthodox statements about the age of +man on the earth. She said that I could not have the skull, that it was +dreadful to her to hear me say it might be a human skull; that she +would order the gardener to take it down and bury it somewhere in the +grounds at a distance from the house. Until that was done she would not +go near the stables--it would be like a nightmare to see that dreadful +head on the wall. I said I would remove it immediately; it was mine, as +she had given it to me, and it was not a man's skull at all--I was only +joking, so that she need not have any qualms about it. + +That pacified her, and I took down the old skull, which looked more +dreadful than ever when I climbed up to it, for though the dome of it +was bleached white, the huge eye cavities and mouth were black and +filled with old black mould and dead moss. Doubtless it had been very +many years in that place, as the long nails used in fastening it there +were eaten up with rust. + +When I got back to London the box with the skull in it was put away in +my book-room, and rested there forgotten for two or three years. Then +one day I was talking on natural history subjects to my publisher, and +he told me that his son, just returned from Oxford, had developed a +keen interest in osteology and was making a collection of mammalian +skulls from the whale and elephant and hippopotamus to the harvest- +mouse and lesser shrew. This reminded me of the long-forgotten skull, +and I told him I had something to send him for his boy's collection, +but before sending it I would find out what it was. Accordingly I sent +the skull to Mr. Frank E. Beddard, the prosector of the Zoological +Society, asking him to tell me what it was. His reply was that it was +the skull of an adult gorilla--a fine large specimen. + +It was then sent on to the young collector of skulls--who will, alas! +collect no more, having now given his life to his country. It saddened +me a little to part with it, certainly not because it was a pretty +object to possess, but only because that bleached dome beneath which +brains were once housed, and those huge black cavities which were once +the windows of a strange soul, and that mouth that once had a fleshy +tongue that youled and clicked in an unknown language could not tell me +its own life-and-death history from the time of its birth in the +African forest to its final translation to a wall over a stable door in +an old house near London. + +There are now several writers on animals who are not exactly +naturalists, nor yet mere fictionists, but who, to a considerable +knowledge of animal psychology and extraordinary sympathy with all +wildness, unite an imaginative insight which reveals to them much of +the inner, the mind life of brutes. No doubt the greatest of these is +Charles Roberts, the Canadian, and I only wish it had been he who had +discovered the old gorilla skull above the stable door, and that the +incident had fired the creative brain which gave us _Red Fox_ and +many another wonderful biography. + +Now here is an odd coincidence. After writing the skull story it came +into my head to relate it to a lady I was dining with, and I also told +her of my intention of putting it in this book of Little Things. She +said it was funny that she too had a story of a skull which she had +thought of telling in her volume of Little Things; but no, she would +not venture to do so, although it was a better story than mine. + +She was good enough to let me hear it, and as it is not to appear +elsewhere I can't resist the temptation of bringing it in here. + +On her return to Europe after travelling and residing for some years in +the Far East, she established herself in Paris and proceeded to +decorate her apartment with some of the wonderful rich and rare objects +she had collected in outlandish parts. Gorgeous fabrics, embroideries, +pottery, metal and woodwork, and along with these products of an +ancient civilisation, others of rude or primitive tribes, quaint +headgear and plumes, strings and ropes of beads, worn as garments +by people who run wild in woods, with arrows, spears and other +weapons. These last were arranged in the form of a wheel over the +entrance, with the bleached and polished skull of an orang-utan in the +centre. It was a very perfect skull, with all the formidable teeth +intact and highly effective. + +She lived happily for some months in her apartment and was very popular +in Parisian society and visited by many distinguished people, who all +greatly admired her Eastern decorations, especially the skull, before +which they would stand expressing their delight with fervent +exclamations. + +One day when on a visit at a friend's house, her host brought up a +gentleman who wished to be introduced to her. He made himself extremely +agreeable, but was a little too effusive with his complimentary +speeches, telling her how delighted he was to meet her, and how much he +had been wishing for that honour. + +After hearing this two or three times she turned on him and asked him +in the directest way why he had wished to see her so very much; then, +anticipating that the answer would be that it was because of what he +had heard of her charm, her linguistic, musical and various other +accomplishments, and so on, she made ready to administer a nice little +snub, when he made this very unexpected reply: + +"O madame, how can you ask? You must know we all admire you because you +are the only person in all Paris who has the courage and originality to +decorate her _salon_ with a human skull." + + + + +XXVII + +A STORY OF A WALNUT + + +He was a small old man, curious to look at, and every day when I came +out of my cottage and passed his garden he was there, his crutches +under his arms, leaning on the gate, silently regarding me as I went +by. Not boldly; his round dark eyes were like those of some shy animal +peering inquisitively but shyly at the passer-by. His was a tumble-down +old thatched cottage, leaky and miserable to live in, with about three- +quarters of an acre of mixed garden and orchard surrounding it. The +trees were of several kinds--cherry, apple, pear, plum, and one big +walnut; and there were also shade trees, some shrubs and currant and +gooseberry bushes, mixed with vegetables, herbs, and garden flowers. +The man himself was in harmony with his disorderly but picturesque +surroundings, his clothes dirty and almost in rags; an old jersey in +place of a shirt, and over it two and sometimes three waistcoats of +different shapes and sizes, all of one indeterminate earthy colour; and +over these an ancient coat too big for the wearer. The thin hair, worn +on the shoulders, was dust-colour mixed with grey, and to crown all +there was a rusty rimless hat, shaped like an inverted flowerpot. From +beneath this strange hat the small strange face, with the round, +furtive, troubled eyes, watched me as I passed. + +The people I lodged with told me his history. He had lived there many +years, and everybody knew him, but nobody liked him,--a cunning, foxy, +grabbing old rascal; unsocial, suspicious, unutterably mean. Never in +all the years of his life in the village had he given a sixpence or a +penny to anyone; nor a cabbage, nor an apple, nor had he ever lent a +helping hand to a neighbour nor shown any neighbourly feeling. + +He had lived for himself alone; and was alone in the world, in his +miserable cottage, and no person had any pity for him in his loneliness +and suffering now when he was almost disabled by rheumatism. + +He was not a native of the village; he had come to it a young man, and +some kindly-disposed person had allowed him to build a small hut as a +shelter at the side of his hedge. Now the village was at one end of a +straggling common, and many irregular strips and patches of common-land +existed scattered about among the cottages and orchards. It was at a +hedge-side on the border of one of these isolated patches that the +young stranger, known as an inoffensive, diligent, and exceedingly +quiet young man, set up his hovel. To protect it from the cattle he +made a small ditch before it. This ditch he made very deep, and the +earth thrown out he built into a kind of rampart, and by its outer edge +he put a row of young holly plants, which a good-natured woodman made +him a present of. He was advised to plant the holly behind the ditch, +but he thought his plan the best, and to protect the young plants he +made a little fence of odd sticks and bits of old wire and hoop iron. +But the sheep would get in, so he made a new ditch; and then something +else, until in the course of years the three-quarters of an acre had +been appropriated. That was the whole history, and the pilfering had +gone no further only because someone in authority had discovered and +put a stop to it. Still, one could see that (in spite of the powers) a +strip a few inches in breadth was being added annually to the estate. + +I was so much interested in all this that from time to time I began to +pause beside his gate to converse with him. By degrees the timid, +suspicious expression wore away, and his eyes looked only wistful, and +he spoke of his aches and pains as if it did him good to tell them to +another. + +I then left the village, but visited it from time to time, usually at +intervals of some months, always to find him by his gate, on his own +property, which he won for himself in the middle of the village, and +from which he watched his neighbours moving about their cottages, going +and coming, and was not of them. Then a whole year went by, and when I +found him at the old gate in the old attitude, with the old wistful +look in the eyes, he seemed glad to see me, and we talked of many +things. We talked, that is, of the weather, with reference to the +crops, and his rheumatism. What else in the world was there to talk of? +He read no paper and heard no news and was of no politics; and if it +can be said that he had a philosophy of life it was a low-down one, +about on a level with that of a solitary old dog-badger who lives in an +earth he has excavated for himself with infinite pains in a strong +stubborn soil--his home and refuge in a hostile world. + +Finally, casting about in my mind for some new subject of conversation-- +for I was reluctant to leave him soon after so long an absence--it +occurred to me that we had not said anything about his one walnut tree. +Of all the other trees and the fruit he had gathered from them he had +already spoken. "By-the-way," I said, "did your walnut tree yield well +this year?" + +"Yes, very well," he returned; then he checked himself and said, +"Pretty well, but I did not get much for them." And after a little +hesitation he added, "That reminds me of something I had forgotten. +Something I have been keeping for you--a little present." + +He began to feel in the capacious pockets of his big outside waistcoat, +but found nothing. "I must give it up," he said; "I must have mislaid +it." + +He seemed a little relieved, and at the same time a little +disappointed; and by-and-by, on my remarking that he had not felt in +all his pockets, began searching again, and in the end produced the +lost something--a walnut! Holding it up a moment, he presented it to me +with a little forward jerk of the hand and a little inclination of the +head; and that little gesture, so unexpected in him, served to show +that he had thought a good deal about giving the walnut away, and had +looked on it as rather an important present. It was, perhaps, the only +one he had ever made in his life. While giving it to me he said very +nicely, "Pray make use of it." + +The use I have made of it is to put it carefully away among other +treasured objects, picked up at odd times in out-of-the-way places. It +may be that some minute mysterious insect or infinitesimal mite--there +is almost certain to be a special walnut mite--has found an entrance +into this prized nut and fed on its oily meat, reducing it within to a +rust-coloured powder. The grub or mite, or whatever it is, may do so at +its pleasure, and flourish and grow fat, and rear a numerous family, +and get them out if it can; but all these corroding processes and +changes going on inside the shell do not in the least diminish my nut's +intrinsic value. + + + + +XXVII + +A STORY OF A JACKDAW + + +At one end of the Wiltshire village where I was staying there was a +group of half-a-dozen cottages surrounded by gardens and shade trees, +and every time I passed this spot on my way to and from the downs on +that side, I was hailed by a loud challenging cry--a sort of "Hullo, +who goes there!" Unmistakably the voice of a jackdaw, a pet bird no +doubt, friendly and impudent as one always expects Jackie to be. And as +I always like to learn the history of every pet daw I come across, I +went down to the cottage the cry usually came from to make enquiries. +The door was opened to me by a tall, colourless, depressed-looking +woman, who said in reply to my question that she didn't own no jackdaw. +There was such a bird there, but it was her husband's and she didn't +know nothing about it. I couldn't see it because it had flown away +somewhere and wouldn't be back for a long time. I could ask her husband +about it; he was the village sweep, and also had a carpenter's shop. + +I did not venture to cross-question her; but the history of the daw +came to me soon enough--on the evening of the same day in fact. I was +staying at the inn and had already become aware that the bar-parlour +was the customary meeting-place of a majority of the men in that small +isolated centre of humanity. There was no club nor institute or +reading-room, nor squire or other predominant person to regulate things +differently. The landlord, wise in his generation, provided newspapers +liberally as well as beer, and had his reward. The people who gathered +there of an evening included two or three farmers, a couple of +professional gentlemen--not the vicar; a man of property, the postman, +the carrier, the butcher, the baker and other tradesmen, the farm and +other labourers, and last, but not least, the village sweep. A curious +democratic assembly to be met with in a rural village in a purely +agricultural district, extremely conservative in politics. + +I had already made the acquaintance of some of the people, high and +low, and on that evening, hearing much hilarious talk in the parlour, I +went in to join the company, and found fifteen or twenty persons +present. The conversation, when I found a seat, had subsided into a +quiet tone, but presently the door opened and a short, robust-looking +man with a round, florid, smiling face looked in upon us. + +"Hullo, Jimmy, what makes you so late?" said someone in the room. +"We're waiting to hear the finish of all that trouble about your bird +at home. Stolen any more of your wife's jewellery? Come in, and let's +hear all about it." + +"Oh, give him time," said another. "Can't you see his brain's busy +inventing something new to tell us!" + +"Inventing, you say!" exclaimed Jimmy, with affected anger. "There's no +need to do that! That there bird does tricks nobody would think of." + +Here the person sitting next to me, speaking low, informed me that this +was Jimmy Jacob, the sweep, that he owned a pet jackdaw, known to every +one in the village, and supposed to be the cleverest bird that ever +was. He added that Jimmy could be very amusing about his bird. + +"I'd already begun to feel curious about that bird of yours," I said, +addressing the sweep. "I'd like very much to hear his history. Did you +take him from the nest?" + +"Yes, Jim," said the man next to me. "Tell us how you came by the bird; +it's sure to be a good story." + +Jimmy, having found a seat and had a mug of beer put before him, began +by remarking that he knew someone had been interesting himself in that +bird of his. "When I went home to tea this afternoon," he continued, +"my missus, she says to me: 'There's that bird of yours again,' she +says." + +"'What bird,' says I. 'If you mean Jac,' says I, 'what's he done now?-- +out with it.' + +"'We'll talk about what he's done bimeby,' says she. 'What I mean is, a +gentleman called to ask about that bird.' + +"'Oh, did he?' says I. 'Yes,' she says. 'I told him I didn't know +nothing about it. He could go and ask you. You'd be sure to tell him a +lot.' + +"'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. + +"'He arsked me who you was, an' I said you was the sweep an' you had a +carpenter's shop near the pub, and was supposed to do carpentering.' + +"_Supposed_ to do carpentering! That's how she said it. + +"'And what did the gentleman say to that?' says I. + +"'He said he thought he seen you at the inn, and I said that's just +where he would see you.' + +"'Anything more between you and the gentleman?' says I, and she said: +'No, nothing more except that he said he'd look you up and arst if you +was a funny little fat man, sort of round, with a little red face.' And +I said, 'Yes, that's him.'" + +Here I thought it time to break in. "It's true," I said, "I called at +your cottage and saw your wife, but there's no truth in the account +you've given of the conversation I had with her." + +There was a general laugh. "Oh, very well," said Jimmy. "After that +I've nothing more to say about the bird or anything else." + +I replied that I was sorry, but we need not begin our acquaintance by +quarrelling--that it would be better to have a drink together. + +Jimmy smiled consent, and I called for another pint for Jimmy and a +soda for myself; then added I was so sorry he had taken it that way as +I should have liked to hear how he got his bird. + +He answered that if I put it that way he wouldn't mind telling me. And +everybody was pleased, and composed ourselves once more to listen. + +"How I got that there bird was like this," he began. "It were about +half after four in the morning, summer before last, an' I was just +having what I may call my beauty sleep, when all of a sudding there +came a most thundering rat-a-tat-tat at the door. + +"'Good Lord,' says my missus, 'whatever is that?' + +"'Sounds like a knock at the door,' says I. 'Just slip on your thingamy +an' go see.' + +"'No,' she says, 'you must go, it might be a man.' + +"'No,' I says, 'it ain't nothing of such consekince as that. It's only +an old woman come to borrow some castor oil.' + +"So she went and bimeby comes back and says: 'It's a man that's called +to see you an' it's very important.' + +"'Tell him I'm in bed,' says I, 'and can't get up till six o'clock.' + +"Well, after a lot of grumbling, she went again, then came back and +says the man won't go away till he seen me, as it's very important. +'Something about a bird,' she says. + +"'A bird!' I says, 'what d'you mean by a bird?' + +"'A rook!' she says. + +"'A rook!' says I. 'Is he a madman, or what?' + +"'He's a man at the door,' she says, 'an' he won't go away till he sees +you, so you'd better git up and see him.' + +"'All right, old woman,' I says, 'I'll git up as you say I must, and +I'll smash him. Get me something to put on,' I says. + +"'No,' she says, 'don't smash him'; and she give me something to put on, +weskit and trousers, so I put on the weskit and got one foot in a +slipper, and went out to him with the trousers in my hand. And there he +was at the door, sure enough, a tramp! + +"'Now, my man,' says I, very severe-like, 'what's this something +important you've got me out of bed at four of the morning for? Is it +the end of the world, or what?' + +"He looked at me quite calm and said it was something important but not +that--not the end of the world. 'I'm sorry to disturb you,' he says, +'but women don't understand things properly,' he says, 'an' I always +think it best to speak to a man.' + +"'That's all very well,' I says, 'but how long do you intend to keep me +here with nothing but this on?' + +"'I'm just coming to it,' he says, not a bit put out. 'It's like this,' +he says. 'I'm from the north--Newcastle way--an' on my way to +Dorchester, looking for work,' he says. + +"'Yes, I see you are!' says I, looking him up and down, fierce-like. + +"'Last evening,' he says, 'I come to a wood about a mile from this 'ere +village, and I says to myself, "I'll stay here and go on in the +morning." So I began looking about and found some fern and cut an +armful and made a bed under a oak-tree. I slep' there till about three +this morning. When I opened my eyes, what should I see but a bird +sitting on the ground close to me? I no sooner see it than I says to +myself, "That bird is as good as a breakfast," I says. So I just put +out my hand and copped it. And here it is!' And out he pulled a bird +from under his coat. + +"'That's a young jackdaw,' I says. + +"'You may call it a jackdaw if you like,' says he; 'but what I want you +to understand is that it ain't no ornary bird. It's a bird,' he says, +'that'll do you hansom and you'll be proud to have, and I've called +here to make you a present of it. All I want is a bit of bread, a pinch +of tea, and some sugar to make my breakfast in an hour's time when I +git to some cottage by the road where they got a fire lighted,' he +says. + +"When he said that, I burst out laughing, a foolish thing to do, mark +you, for when you laugh, you're done for; but I couldn't help it for +the life of me. I'd seen many tramps but never such a cool one as this. + +"I no sooner laughed than he put the bird in my hands, and I had to +take it. 'Good Lord!' says I. Then I called to the missus to fetch me +the loaf and a knife, and when I got it I cut him off half the loaf. +'Don't give him that,' she says: I'll cut him a piece.' But all I says +was, 'Go and git me the tea.' + +"'There's a very little for breakfast,' she says. But I made her fetch +the caddy, and he put out his hand and I half filled it with tea. +'Isn't that enough?' says I; 'well, then, have some more,' I says; and +he had some more. Then I made her fetch the bacon and began cutting him +rashers. 'One's enough,' says the old woman. 'No,' says I, 'let him +have a good breakfast. The bird's worth it,' says I and went on cutting +him bacon. 'Anything more?' I arst him. + +"'If you've a copper or two to spare,' he says, 'it'll be a help to me +on my way to Dorchester.' "'Certainly,' says I, and I began to feel in +my trouser pockets and found a florin. 'Here,' I says, 'it's all I +have, but you're more than welcome to it.' + +"Then my missus she giv' a sort of snort, and walked off. + +"'And now,' says I, 'per'aps you won't mind letting me go back to git +some clothes on.' + +"In one minute,' he says, and went on calmly stowing the things away, +and when he finished, he looks at me quite serious, and says, 'I'm +obliged to you,' he says, 'and I hope you haven't ketched cold standing +with your feet on them bricks and nothing much on you,' he says. 'But I +want most particular to arst you not to forget to remember about that +bird I giv' you,' he says. 'You call it a jackdaw, and I've no +particular objection to that, only don't go and run away with the idea +that it's just an or'nary jackdaw. It's a different sort, and you'll +come to know its value bime-by, and that it ain't the kind of bird you +can buy with a bit of bread and a pinch of tea,' he says. 'And there's +something else you've got to think of--that wife of yours. I've been +sort of married myself and can feel for you,' he says. 'The time will +come when that there bird's pretty little ways will amuse her, and last +of all it'll make her smile, and you'll get the benefit of that,' he +says. 'And you'll remember the bird was giv' to you by a man named +Jones--that's my name, Jones--walking from Newcastle to Dorchester, +looking for work. A poor man, you'll say, down on his luck, but not one +of the common sort, not a greedy, selfish man, but a man that's always +trying to do something to make others happy,' he says. + +"And after that, he said, 'Good-bye,' without a smile, and walked off. + +"And there at the door I stood, I don't know how long, looking after +him going down the road. Then I laughed; I don't know that I ever +laughed so much in my life, and at last I had to sit down on the bricks +to go on laughing more comfortably, until the missus came and arst me, +sarcastic-like, if I'd got the high-strikes, and if she'd better get a +bucket of water to throw over me. + +"I says, 'No, I don't want no water. Just let me have my laugh out and +then it'll be all right.' Well, I don't see nothing to laugh at,' she +says. 'And I s'pose you thought you giv' him a penny. Well, it wasn't a +penny, it was a florin,' she says. + +"'And little enough, too,' I says. 'What that man said to me, to say +nothing of the bird, was worth a sovereign. But you are a woman, and +can't understand that,' I says. 'No,' she says, 'I can't, and lucky for +you, or we'd 'a' been in the workhouse before now,' she says. + +"And that's how I got the bird." + + + + +XXIX + +A WONDERFUL STORY OF A MACKEREL + + +The angler is a mighty spinner of yarns, but no sooner does he set +about the telling than I, knowing him of old, and accounting him not an +uncommon but an unconscionable liar, begin (as Bacon hath it) "to droop +and languish." Nor does the languishing end with the story if I am +compelled to sit it out, for in that state I continue for some hours +after. But oh! the difference when someone who is not an angler relates +a fishing adventure! A plain truthful man who never dined at an +anglers' club, nor knows that he who catches, or tries to catch a fish, +must tell you something to astonish and fill you with envy and +admiration. To a person of this description I am all attention, and +however prosaic and even dull the narrative may be, it fills me with +delight, and sends me happy to bed and (still chuckling) to a +refreshing sleep. + +Accordingly, when one of the "commercials" in the coffee-room of the +Plymouth Hotel began to tell a wonderful story of a mackerel he once +caught a very long time back, I immediately put down my pen so as to +listen with all my ears. For he was about the last person one would +have thought of associating with fish-catching--an exceedingly towny- +looking person indeed, one who from his conversation appeared to know +nothing outside of his business. He was past middle age--oldish-looking +for a traveller--his iron-grey hair brushed well up to hide the +baldness on top, disclosing a pair of large ears which stood out like +handles; a hatchet face with parchment skin, antique side whiskers, and +gold-rimmed glasses on his large beaky nose. He wore the whitest linen +and blackest, glossiest broadcloth, a big black cravat, diamond stud in +his shirt-front in the old fashion, and a heavy gold chain with a spade +guinea attached. His get-up and general appearance, though ancient, or +at all events mid-Victorian, proclaimed him a person of considerable +importance in his vocation. + +He had, he told us at starting, a very good customer at Bristol, +perhaps the best he ever had, at any rate the one who had stuck longest +to him, since what he was telling us happened about the year 1870. He +went to Bristol expressly to see this man, expecting to get a good +order from him, but when he arrived and saw the wife, and asked for her +husband, she replied that he was away on his holiday with the two +little boys. It was a great disappointment, for, of course, he couldn't +get an order from her. Confound the woman! she was always against him; +what she would have liked was to have half a dozen travellers dangling +about her, so as to pit one against another and distribute the orders +among them just as flirty females distribute their smiles, instead of +putting trust in one. + +Where had her husband gone for his holiday? he asked; she said Weymouth +and then was sorry she had let it out. But she refused to give the +address. "No, no," she said; "he's gone to enjoy himself, and mustn't +be reminded of business till he gets back." + +However, he resolved to follow him to Weymouth on the chance of finding +him there, and accordingly took the next train to that place. And, he +added, it was lucky for him that he did so, for he very soon found him +with his boys on the front, and, in spite of what she said, it was not +with this man as it was with so many others who refuse to do business +when away from the shop. On the contrary, at Weymouth he secured the +best order this man had given him up to that time; and it was because +he was away from his wife, who had always contrived to be present at +their business meetings, and was very interfering, and made her husband +too cautious in buying. + +It was early in the day when this business was finished. "And now," +said the man from Bristol, who was in a sort of gay holiday mood, "what +are you going to do with yourself for the rest of the day?" + +He answered that he was going to take the next train back to London. He +had finished with Weymouth--there was no other customer there. + +Here he digressed to tell us that he was a beginner at that time at the +salary of a pound a week and fifteen shillings a day for travelling +expenses. He thought this a great thing at first; when he heard what he +was to get he walked about on air all day long, repeating to himself, +"Fifteen shillings a day for expenses!" It was incredible; he had been +poor, earning about five shillings a week, and now he had suddenly come +into this splendid fortune. It wouldn't be much for him now! He began +by spending recklessly; and in a short time discovered that the fifteen +shillings didn't go far; now he had come to his senses and had to +practise a rigid economy. Accordingly, he thought he would save the +cost of a night's lodging and go back to town. But the Bristol man was +anxious to keep him and said he had hired a man and boat to go fishing +with the boys,--why couldn't he just engage a bedroom for the night and +spend the afternoon with them? + +After some demur he consented, and took his bag to a modest Temperance +Hotel, where he secured a room, and then, protesting he had never +caught a fish or seen one caught in his life, he got into the boat, and +was taken into the bay where he was to have his first and only +experience of fishing. Perhaps it was no great thing, but it gave him +something to remember all his life. After a while his line began to +tremble and move about in an extraordinary way with sudden little tugs +which were quite startling, and on pulling it in he found he had a +mackerel on his hook. He managed to get it into the boat all right and +was delighted at his good luck, and still more at the sight of the +fish, shining like silver and showing the most beautiful colours. He +had never seen anything so beautiful in his life! Later, the same thing +happened again with the line and a second mackerel was caught, and +altogether he caught three. His friend also caught a few, and after a +most pleasant and exciting afternoon they returned to the town well +pleased with their sport. His friend wanted him to take a share of the +catch, and after a little persuasion he consented to take one, and he +selected the one he had caught first, just because it was the first +fish he had ever caught in his life, and it had looked more beautiful +than any other, so would probably taste better. + +Going back to the hotel he called the maid and told her he had brought +in a mackerel which he had caught for his tea, and ordered her to have +it prepared. He had it boiled and enjoyed it very much, but on the +following morning when the bill was brought to him he found that he had +been charged two shillings for fish. + +"Why, what does this item mean?" he exclaimed. "I've had no fish in +this hotel except a mackerel which I caught myself and brought back for +my tea, and now I'm asked to pay two shillings for it? Just take the +bill back to your mistress and tell her the fish was mine--I caught it +myself in the Bay yesterday afternoon." + +The girl took it up, and by-and-by returned and said her mistress had +consented to take threepence off the bill as he had provided the fish +himself. + +"No," he said, indignantly, "I'll have nothing off the bill, I'll pay +the full amount," and pay it he did in his anger, then went off to say +goodbye to his friend, to whom he related the case. + +His friend, being in the same hilarious humour as on the previous day, +burst out laughing and made a good deal of fun over the matter. + +That, he said, was the whole story of how he went fishing and caught a +mackerel, and what came of it. But it was not quite all, for he went on +to tell us that he still visited Bristol regularly to receive big and +ever bigger orders from that same old customer of his, whose business +had gone on increasing ever since; and invariably after finishing their +business his friend remarks in a casual sort of way: "By the way, old +man, do you remember that mackerel you caught at Weymouth which you had +for tea, and were charged two shillings for?" "Then he laughs just as +heartily as if it had only happened yesterday, and I leave him in a +good humour, and say to myself: 'Now, I'll hear no more about that +blessed mackerel till I go round to Bristol again in three months' +time.'" + +"How long ago did you say it was since you caught the mackerel?" I +inquired. + +"About forty years." + +"Then," I said, "it was a very lucky fish for you--worth more perhaps +than if a big diamond had been found in its belly. The man had got his +joke--the one joke of his life perhaps--and was determined to stick to +it, and that kept him faithful to you in spite of his wife's wish to +distribute their orders among a lot of travellers." + +He replied that I was perhaps right and that it had turned out a lucky +fish for him. But his old customer, though his business was big, was +not so important to him now when he had big customers in most of the +large towns in England, and he thought it rather ridiculous to keep up +that joke so many years. + + + + +XXX + +STRANGERS YET + + +The man who composed that familiar delightful rhyme about blue eyes and +black, and how you are to beware of the hidden knife in the one case +and of a different sort of danger which may threaten you in the other, +must have lived a good long time ago, or else be a very old man. Oh, so +old, thousands of years, thousands of years, if all were told. And he, +when he exhibited such impartiality, must have had other-coloured eyes +himself. Most probably the sheep and goat eye, one which no person in +his senses--except an anthropologist--can classify as either dark or +light. It is that marmalade yellow, excessively rare in this country, +but not very uncommon in persons of Spanish race. For who at this day, +this age, after the mixing together of the hostile races has been going +on these twenty centuries or longer, can believe that any inherited or +instinctive animosity can still survive? If we do find such a feeling +here and there, would it not be more reasonable to regard it as an +individual antipathy, or as a prejudice, imbibed early in life from +parents or others, which endures in spite of reason, long after its +origin had been forgotten? + +Nevertheless, one does meet with cases from time to time which do throw +a slight shadow of doubt on the mind, and of several I have met I will +here relate one. + +At an hotel on the South Coast I met a Miss Browne, which is not her +name, and I rather hope this sketch will not be read by anyone nearly +related to her, as they might identify her from the description. A +middle-aged lady with a brown skin, black hair and dark eyes, an oval +face, fairly good-looking, her manner lively and attractive, her +movements quick without being abrupt or jerky. She was highly +intelligent and a good talker, with more to say than most women, and +better able than most to express herself. We were at the same small +table and got on well together, as I am a good listener and she knew-- +being a woman, how should she not?--that she interested me. One day at +our table the conversation happened to be about the races of men and +the persistence of racial characteristics, physical and mental, in +persons of mixed descent. The subject interested her. "What would you +call me?" she asked. + +"An Iberian," I returned. + +She laughed and said: "This makes the third time I have been called an +Iberian, so perhaps it is true, and I'm curious to know what an Iberian +is, and why I'm called an Iberian. Is it because I have something of a +Spanish look?" + +I answered that the Iberians were the ancient Britons, a dark-eyed, +brown-skinned people who inhabited this country and all Southern Europe +before the invasion of the blue-eyed races; that doubtless there had +been an Iberian mixture in her ancestors, perhaps many centuries ago, +and that these peculiar characters had come out strongly in her; she +had the peculiar kind of blood in her veins and the peculiar sort of +soul which goes with the blood. + +"But what a mystery it is!" she exclaimed. "I am the only small one in +a family of tall sisters. My parents were both tall and light, and the +others took after them. I was small and dark, and they were tall +blondes with blue eyes and pale gold hair. And in disposition I was +unlike them as in physique. How do you account for it?" + +It was a long question, I said, and I had told her all I could about +it. I couldn't go further into it; I was too ignorant. I had just +touched on the subject in one of my books. It was in other books, with +reference to a supposed antagonism which still survives in blue-eyed +and dark-eyed people. + +She asked me to give her the titles of the books I spoke of. "You +imagine, I daresay," she said, "that it is mere idle curiosity on my +part. It isn't so. The subject has a deep and painful interest for me." + +That was all, and I had forgotten all about the conversation until some +time afterwards, when I had a letter from her recalling it. I quote one +passage without the alteration of a syllable: + +"Oh, why did I not know before, when I was young, in the days when my +beautiful blue-eyed but cruel and remorseless mother and sisters made +my life an inexplicable grief and torment! It might have lifted the +black shadows from my youth by explaining the reason of their +persecutions--it might have taken the edge from my sufferings by +showing that I was not personally to blame, also that nothing could +ever obviate it, that I but wasted my life and broke my heart in for +ever vain efforts to appease an hereditary enemy and oppressor." + +Cases of this kind cannot, however, appear conclusive. The cases in +which mother and daughters unite in persecuting a member of the family +are not uncommon. I have known several in my experience in which +respectable, well-to-do, educated, religious people have displayed a +perfectly fiendish animosity against one of the family. In all these +cases it has been mother and daughters combining against one daughter, +and so far as one can see into the matter, the cause is usually to be +traced to some strangeness or marked peculiarity, physical or mental, +in the persecuted one. The peculiarity may be a beauty of disposition, +or some virtue or rare mental quality which the others do not possess. + +It would perhaps be worth while to form a society to investigate all +these cases of persecution in families, to discover whether or not they +afford any support to the notion of an inherited antagonism of dark and +light races. The Anthropological, Eugenic and Psychical Research +Societies might consider the suggestion. + + + + +XXXI + +THE RETURN OF THE CHIFF-CHAFF + +(SPRING SADNESS) + + +On a warm, brilliant morning in late April I paid a visit to a shallow +lakelet or pond five or six acres in extent which I had discovered some +weeks before hidden in a depression in the land, among luxuriant furze, +bramble, and blackthorn bushes. Between the thickets the boggy ground +was everywhere covered with great tussocks of last year's dead and +faded marsh grass--a wet, rough, lonely place where a lover of solitude +need have no fear of being intruded on by a being of his own species, +or even a wandering moorland donkey. On arriving at the pond I was +surprised and delighted to find half the surface covered with a thick +growth of bog-bean just coming into flower. The quaint three-lobed +leaves, shaped like a grebe's foot, were still small, and the +flowerstocks, thick as corn in a field, were crowned with pyramids of +buds, cream and rosy-red like the opening dropwort clusters, and at the +lower end of the spikes were the full-blown singular, snow-white, +cottony flowers--our strange and beautiful water edelweiss. + +A group of ancient, gnarled and twisted alder bushes, with trunks like +trees, grew just on the margin of the pond, and by-and-by I found a +comfortable arm-chair on the lower stout horizontal branches +overhanging the water, and on that seat I rested for a long time, +enjoying the sight of that rare unexpected loveliness. + +The chiff-chaff, the common warbler of this moorland district, was now +abundant, more so than anywhere else in England; two or three were +flitting about among the alder leaves within a few feet of my head, and +a dozen at least were singing within hearing, chiff-chaffing near and +far, their notes sounding strangely loud at that still, sequestered +spot. Listening to that insistent sound I was reminded of Warde +Fowler's words about the sweet season which brings new life and hope to +men, and how a seal and sanction is put on it by that same small bird's +clear resonant voice. I endeavoured to recall the passage, saying to +myself that in order to enter fully into the feeling expressed it is +sometimes essential to know an author's exact words. Failing in this, I +listened again to the bird, then let my eyes rest on the expanse of red +and cream-coloured spikes before me, then on the masses of flame-yellow +furze beyond, then on something else. I was endeavouring to keep my +attention on these extraneous things, to shut my mind resolutely +against a thought, intolerably sad, which had surprised me in that +quiet solitary place. Surely, I said, this springtime verdure and +bloom, this fragrance of the furze, the infinite blue of heaven, the +bell-like double note of this my little feathered neighbour in the +alder tree, flitting hither and thither, light and airy himself as a +wind-fluttered alder leaf--surely this is enough to fill and to satisfy +any heart, leaving no room for a grief so vain and barren, which +nothing in nature suggested! That it should find me out here in this +wilderness of all places--the place to which a man might come to divest +himself of himself--that second self which he has unconsciously +acquired--to be like the trees and animals, outside of the sad +atmosphere of human life and its eternal tragedy! A vain effort and a +vain thought, since that from which I sought to escape came from nature +itself, from every visible thing; every leaf and flower and blade was +eloquent of it, and the very sunshine, that gave life and brilliance to +all things, was turned to darkness by it. + +Overcome and powerless, I continued sitting there with half-closed eyes +until those sad images of lost friends, which had risen with so strange +a suddenness in my mind, appeared something more than mere memories and +mentally-seen faces and forms, seen for a moment, then vanishing. They +were with me, standing by me, almost as in life; and I looked from one +to another, looking longest at the one who was the last to go; who was +with me but yesterday, as it seemed, and stood still in our walk and +turned to bid me listen to that same double note, that little spring +melody which had returned to us; and who led me, waist-deep in the +flowering meadow grasses to look for this same beautiful white flower +which I had found here, and called it our "English edelweiss." How +beautiful it all was! We thought and felt as one. That bond uniting us, +unlike all other bonds, was unbreakable and everlasting. If one had +said that life was uncertain it would have seemed a meaningless phrase. +Spring's immortality was in us; ever-living earth was better than any +home in the stars which eye hath not seen nor heart conceived. Nature +was all in all; we worshipped her and her wordless messages in our +hearts were sweeter than honey and the honeycomb. + +To me, alone on that April day, alone on the earth as it seemed for a +while, the sweet was indeed changed to bitter, and the loss of those +who were one with me in feeling, appeared to my mind as a monstrous +betrayal, a thing unnatural, almost incredible. Could I any longer love +and worship this dreadful power that made us and filled our hearts with +gladness--could I say of it, "Though it slay me yet will I trust it?" + +By-and-by the tempest subsided, but the clouds returned after the rain, +and I sat on in a deep melancholy, my mind in a state of suspense. Then +little by little the old influence began to re-assert itself, and it +was as if one was standing there by me, one who was always calm, who +saw all things clearly, who regarded me with compassion and had come to +reason with me. "Come now," it appeared to say, "open your eyes once +more to the sunshine; let it enter freely and fill your heart, for +there is healing in it and in all nature. It is true the power you have +worshipped and trusted will destroy you, but you are living to-day and +the day of your end will be determined by chance only. Until you are +called to follow them into that 'world of light,' or it may be of +darkness and oblivion, you are immortal. Think then of to-day, humbly +putting away the rebellion and despondency corroding your life, and it +will be with you as it has been; you shall know again the peace which +passes understanding, the old ineffable happiness in the sights and +sounds of earth. Common things shall seem rare and beautiful to you. +Listen to the chiff-chaff ingeminating the familiar unchanging call and +message of spring. Do you know that this frail feathered mite with its +short, feeble wings has come back from an immense distance, crossing +two continents, crossing mountains, deserts illimitable, and, worst of +all, the salt, grey desert of the sea. North and north-east winds and +snow and sleet assailed it when, weary with its long journey, it drew +near to its bourne, and beat it back, weak and chilled to its little +anxious heart, so that it could hardly keep itself from falling into +the cold, salt waves. Yet no sooner is it here in the ancient home and +cradle of its race, than, all perils and pains forgot, it begins to +tell aloud the overflowing joy of the resurrection, calling earth to +put on her living garment, to rejoice once more in the old undying +gladness--that small trumpet will teach you something. Let your reason +serve you as well as its lower faculties have served this brave little +traveller from a distant land." + +Is this then the best consolation my mysterious mentor can offer? How +vain, how false it is!--how little can reason help us! The small bird +exists only in the present; there is no past, nor future, nor knowledge +of death. Its every action is the result of a stimulus from outside; +its "bravery" is but that of a dead leaf or ball of thistle-down +carried away by the blast. Is there no escape, then, from this +intolerable sadness--from the thought of springs that have been, the +beautiful multitudinous life that has vanished? Our maker and mother +mocks at our efforts--at our philosophic refuges, and sweeps them away +with a wave of emotion. And yet there is deliverance, the old way of +escape which is ours, whether we want it or not. Nature herself in her +own good time heals the wound she inflicts--even this most grievous in +seeming when she takes away from us the faith and hope of reunion with +our lost. They may be in a world of light, waiting our coming--we do +not know; but in that place they are unimaginable, their state +inconceivable. They were like us, beings of flesh and blood, or we +should not have loved them. If we cannot grasp their hands their +continued existence is nothing to us. Grief at their loss is just as +great for those who have kept their faith as for those who have lost +it; and on account of its very poignancy it cannot endure in either +case. It fades, returning in its old intensity at ever longer intervals +until it ceases. The poet of nature was wrong when he said that without +his faith in the decay of his senses he would be worse than dead, +echoing the apostle who said that if we had hope in this world only we +should be of all men the most miserable. So, too, was the later poet +wrong when he listened to the waves on Dover beach bringing the eternal +notes of sadness in; when he saw in imagination the ebbing of the great +sea of faith which had made the world so beautiful, in its withdrawal +disclosing the deserts drear and naked shingles of the world. That +desolation, as he imagined it, which made him so unutterably sad, was +due to the erroneous idea that our earthly happiness comes to us from +otherwhere, some region outside our planet, just as one of our modern +philosophers has imagined that the principle of life on earth came +originally from the stars. + +The "naked shingles of the world" is but a mood of our transitional +day; the world is just as beautiful as it ever was, and our dead as +much to us as they have ever been, even when faith was at its highest. +They are not wholly, irretrievably lost, even when we cease to remember +them, when their images come no longer unbidden to our minds. They are +present in nature: through ourselves, receiving but what we give, they +have become part and parcel of it and give it an expression. As when +the rain clouds disperse and the sun shines out once more, heaven and +earth are filled with a chastened light, sweet to behold and very +wonderful, so because of our lost ones, because of the old grief at +their loss, the visible world is touched with a new light, a tenderness +and grace and beauty not its own. + + + + +XXXII + +A WASP AT TABLE + + +Even to a naturalist with a tolerant feeling for all living things, +both great and small, it is not always an unmixed pleasure to have a +wasp at table. I have occasionally felt a considerable degree of +annoyance at the presence of a self-invited guest of that kind. + +Some time ago when walking I sat down at noon on a fallen tree-trunk to +eat my luncheon, which consisted of a hunk of cake and some bananas. +The wind carried the fragrance of the fruit into the adjacent wood, and +very soon wasps began to arrive, until there were fifteen or twenty +about me. They were so aggressive and greedy, almost following every +morsel I took into my mouth, that I determined to let them have as much +as they wanted--_and something more_! I proceeded to make a mash +of the ripest portions of the fruit mixed with whisky from my pocket- +flask, and spread it nicely on the bark. At once they fell on it with +splendid appetites, but to my surprise the alcohol produced no effect. +I have seen big locusts and other important insects tumbling about and +acting generally as if demented after a few sips of rum and sugar, but +these wasps, when they had had their full of banana and whisky, buzzed +about and came and went and quarrelled with one another just as usual, +and when I parted from them there was not one of the company who could +be said to be the worse for liquor. Probably there is no more steady- +headed insect than the wasp, unless it be his noble cousin and prince, +the hornet, who has a quite humanlike unquenchable thirst for beer and +cider. + +But the particular wasp at table I had in my mind remains to be spoken +of. I was lunching at the house of a friend, the vicar of a lonely +parish in Hampshire, and besides ourselves there were five ladies, four +of them young, at our round table. The window stood open, and by-and-by +a wasp flew in and began to investigate the dishes, the plates, then +the eaters themselves, impartially buzzing before each face in turn. On +his last round, before taking his departure, he continued to buzz so +long before my face, first in front of one eye then the other, as if to +make sure that they were fellows and had the same expression, that I at +length impatiently remarked that I did not care for his too flattering +attentions. And that was really the only inconsiderate or inhospitable +word his visit had called forth. Yet there were, I have said, five +ladies present! They had neither welcomed nor repelled him, and had not +regarded him; and although it was impossible to be unconscious of his +presence at table, it was as if he had not been there. But then these +ladies were cyclists: one, in addition to the beautiful brown colour +with which the sun had painted her face, showed some dark and purple +stains on cheek and forehead--marks of a resent dangerous collision +with a stone wall at the foot of a steep hill. + +Here I had intended telling about other meetings with other wasps, but +having touched on a subject concerning which nothing is ever said and +volumes might be written--namely, the Part played by the bicycle in the +emancipation of women--I will go on with it. That they are not really +emancipated doesn't matter, since they move towards that goal, and +doubtless they would have gone on at the same old, almost imperceptible +rate for long years but for the sudden impulse imparted by the wheel. +Middle-aged people can recall how all England held up its hands and +shouted "No, no!" from shore to shore at the amazing and upsetting +spectacle of a female sitting astride on a safety machine, indecently +moving her legs up and down just like a man. But having tasted the +delights of swift easy motion, imparted not by any extraneous agency, +but--oh, sweet surprise!--by her own in-dwelling physical energy, she +refused to get off. By staying on she declared her independence; and we +who were looking on--some of us--rejoiced to see it; for did we not +also see, when these venturesome leaders returned to us from careering +unattended over the country, when easy motion had tempted them long +distances into strange, lonely places, where there was no lover nor +brother nor any chivalrous person to guard and rescue them from +innumerable perils--from water and fire, mad bulls and ferocious dogs, +and evil-minded tramps and drunken, dissolute men, and from all +venomous, stinging, creeping, nasty, horrid things--did we not see that +they were no longer the same beings we had previously known, that in +their long flights in heat and cold and rain and wind and dust they had +shaken off some ancient weakness that was theirs, that without loss of +femininity they had become more like ourselves in the sense that they +were more self-centred and less irrational? + +But women, alas! can seldom follow up a victory. They are, as even the +poet when most anxious to make the best of them mournfully confesses: + + variable as the shade + By the light quivering aspen made. + +Inconstant in everything, they soon cast aside the toy which had taught +them so great a lesson and served them so well, carrying them so far in +the direction they wished to go. And no sooner had they cast it aside +than a fresh toy, another piece of mechanism, came on the scene to +captivate their hearts, and instead of a help, to form a hindrance. The +motor not only carried them back over all the ground they had covered +on the bicycle, but further still, almost back to the times of chairs +and fans and smelling-salts and sprained ankles at Lyme Regis. A +painful sight was the fair lady not yet forty and already fat, +overclothed and muffled up in heavy fabrics and furs, a Pekinese +clasped in her arms, reclining in her magnificent forty-horse-power car +with a man (_Homo sapiens_) in livery to drive her from shop to +shop and house to house. One could shut one's eyes until it passed-- +shut them a hundred or five hundred times a day in every thoroughfare +in every town in England; but alas! one couldn't shut out the fact that +this spectacle had fascinated and made captive the soul of womankind, +that it was now their hope, their dream, their beautiful ideal--the one +universal ideal that made all women sisters, from the greatest ladies +in the land downwards, and still down, from class to class, even to the +semi-starved ragged little pariah girl scrubbing the front steps of a +house in Mean Street for a penny. + +The splendid spectacle has now been removed from their sight, but is it +out of mind? Are they not waiting and praying for the war to end so +that there may be petrol to buy and men returned from the front to cast +off their bloodstained clothes and wash and bleach their blackened +faces, to put themselves in a pretty livery and drive the ladies and +their Pekinese once more? + +A friend of mine once wrote a charming booklet entitled _Wheel +Magic_, which was all about his rambles on the machine and its +effect on him. He is not an athlete--on the contrary he is a bookish +man who has written books enough to fill a cart, and has had so much to +do with books all his life that one might imagine he had by some +strange accident been born in the reading-room of the British Museum; +or that originally he had actually been a bookworm, a sort of mite, +spontaneously engendered between the pages of a book, and that the +supernatural being who presides over the reading-room had, as a little +pleasantry, transformed him into a man so as to enable him to read the +books on which he had previously nourished himself. + +I can't follow my friend's wanderings and adventures as, springing out +of his world of books, he flits and glides like a vagrant, swift- +winged, irresponsible butterfly about the land, sipping the nectar from +a thousand flowers and doing his hundred miles in a day and feeling all +the better for it, for this was a man's book, and the wheel and its +magic was never a necessity in man's life. But it has a magic of +another kind for woman, and I wish that some woman of genius would +arise and, inspired perhaps by the ghost of Benjamin Ward Richardson in +his prophetic mood, tell of this magic to her sisters. Tell them, if +they are above labour in the fields or at the wash-tub, that the wheel, +without fatiguing, will give them the deep breath which will purify the +blood, invigorate the heart, stiffen the backbone, harden the muscles; +that the mind will follow and accommodate itself to these physical +changes; finally, that the wheel will be of more account to them than +all the platforms in the land, and clubs of all the pioneers and +colleges, all congresses, titles, honours, votes, and all the books +that have been or ever will be written. + + + + +XXXIII + +WASPS AND MEN + + +I now find that I must go back to the subject of my last paper on the +wasp in order to define my precise attitude towards that insect. Then, +too, there was another wasp at table, not in itself a remarkably +interesting incident, but I am anxious to relate it for the following +reason. + +If there is one sweetest thought, one most cherished memory in a man's +mind, especially if he be a person of gentle pacific disposition, whose +chief desire is to live in peace and amity with all men, it is the +thought and recollection of a good fight in which he succeeded in +demolishing his adversary. If his fights have been rare adventures and +in most cases have gone against him, so much the more will he rejoice +in that one victory. + +It chanced that a wasp flew into the breakfast room of a country house +in which I was a guest, when we were all--about fourteen in number, +mostly ladies, young and middle-aged--seated at the table. The wasp +went his rounds in the usual way, dropping into this or that plate or +dish, feeling foods with his antennae or tasting with his tongue, but +staying nowhere, and as he moved so did the ladies, starting back with +little screams and exclamations of disgust and apprehension. For these +ladies, it hardly need be said, were not cyclists. Then the son of the +house, a young gentleman of twenty-two, a footballer and general +athlete, got up, pushed back his chair and said: "Don't worry, I'll +soon settle his hash." + +Then I too rose from my seat, for I had made a vow not to allow a wasp +to be killed unnecessarily in my presence. + +"Leave it to me, please," I said, "and I'll put him out in a minute." + +"No, sit down," he returned. "I have said I'm going to kill it." + +"You shall not," I returned; and then the two of us, serviettes in +hand, went for the wasp, who got frightened and flew all round the +room, we after it. After some chasing he rose high and then made a dash +at the window, but instead of making its escape at the lower open part, +struck the glass. + +"Now I've got him!" cried my sportsman in great glee; but he had not +got him, for I closed with him, and we swayed about and put forth all +our strength, and finally came down with a crash on a couch under the +window. Then after some struggling I succeeded in getting on top, and +with my right hand on his face and my knee on his body to keep him +pressed down, I managed with my left hand to capture the wasp and put +him out. + +Then we got up--he with a scarlet face, furious at being baulked; but +he was a true sportsman, and without one word went back to his seat at +the table. + +Undoubtedly it was a disgraceful scene in a room full of ladies, but +he, not I, provoked it and was the ruffian, as I'm sure he will be +ready to confess if he ever reads this. + +But why all this fuss over a wasp's life, and in such circumstances, in +a room full of nervous ladies, in a house where I was a guest? It was +not that I care more for a wasp than for any other living creature--I +don't love them in the St. Francis way; the wasp is not my little +sister; but I hate to see any living creature unnecessarily, +senselessly, done to death. There are other creatures I can see killed +without a qualm--flies, for instance, especially houseflies and the big +blue-bottle; these are, it was formerly believed, the progeny of Satan, +and modern scientists are inclined to endorse that ancient notion. The +wasp is a redoubtable fly-killer, and apart from his merits, he is a +perfect and beautiful being, and there is no more sense in killing him +than in destroying big game and a thousand beautiful wild creatures +that are harmless to man. Yet this habit of killing a wasp is so +common, ingrained as it were, as to be almost universal among us, and +is found in the gentlest and humanest person, and even the most +spiritual-minded men come to regard it as a sort of religious duty and +exercise, as the incident I am going to relate will show. + +I came to Salisbury one day to find it full of visitors, but I +succeeded in getting a room in one of the small family hotels. I was +told by the landlord that a congress was being held, got up by the +Society for the pursuit or propagation of Holiness, and that delegates, +mostly evangelical clergymen and ministers of the gospel of all +denominations, with many lay brothers, had come in from all over the +kingdom and were holding meetings every day and all day long at one of +the large halls. The three bedrooms on the same floor with mine, he +said, were all occupied by delegates who had travelled from the extreme +north of England. + +In the evening I met these three gentlemen and heard all about their +society and congress and its aim and work from them. + +Next morning at about half-past six I was roused from sleep by a +tremendous commotion in the room adjoining mine: cries and shouts, +hurried trampings over the floor, blows on walls and windows and the +crash of overthrown furniture. However, before I could shake my sleep +off and get up to find out the cause, there were shouts of laughter, a +proof that no one had been killed or seriously injured, and I went to +sleep again. + +At breakfast we met once more, and I was asked if I had been much +disturbed by the early morning noise and excitement. They proceeded to +explain that a wasp had got into the room of their friend--indicating +the elderly gentleman who had taken the head of the table; and as he +was an invalid and afraid of being stung, he had shouted to them to +come to his aid. They had tumbled out of bed and rushed in, and before +beginning operations had made him cover his face and head with the +bedclothes, after which they started hunting the wasp. But he was too +clever for them. They threw things at him and struck at him with their +garments, pillows, slippers, whatever came to hand, and still he +escaped, and in rushing round in their excitement everything in the +room except the bedstead was overthrown. At last the wasp, tired out or +terrified dropped to the floor, and they were on him like a shot and +smashed him with the slippers they had in their hands. + +"And you call yourselves religious men!" I remarked when they had +finished their story and looked at me expecting me to say something. + +They stared astonished at me, then exchanged glances and burst out +laughing, and laughed as if they had heard something too excruciatingly +funny. The elderly clergyman who had been saved from the winged man- +eating dragon that had invaded his room managed at last to recover his +gravity, and his friends followed suit; they then all three silently +looked at me again as if they expected to hear something more. + +Not to disappoint them, I started telling them about the life and work +of a famous nobleman, one of England's great pro-consuls, who for many +years had ruled over various countries in distant regions of the earth, +and many barbarous and semi-savage nations, by whom he was regarded, +for his wisdom and justice and sympathy with the people he governed, +almost as a god. This great man, who was now living in retirement at +home, had just founded a Society for the Protection of Wasps, and had +so far admitted two of his friends who were in sympathy with his +objects to membership. As soon as I heard of the society I had sent in +an application to be admitted, too, and felt it would be a proud day +for me if the founder considered me worthy of being the fourth member. + +Having concluded my remarks, the three religious gentlemen, who had +listened attentively and seriously to my praises of the great pro- +consul, once more exchanged glances and again burst out laughing, and +continued laughing, rocking in their chairs with laughter, until they +could laugh no more for exhaustion, and the elderly gentleman removed +his spectacles to wipe the tears from his eyes. + +Such extravagant mirth surprised me in that grey-haired man who was +manifestly in very bad health, yet had travelled over three hundred +miles from his remote Cumberland parish to give the benefit of his +burning thoughts to his fellow-seekers after holiness congregated at +Salisbury from all parts of the country. + +The gust of merriment having blown its fill, ending quite naturally in +"minute drops from off the eaves," I gravely wished them good-bye and +left the room. They did not know, they never suspected that the +amusement had been on both sides, and that despite their laughter it +had been ten times greater on mine than on theirs. + +I can't in conclusion resist the temptation to tell just one more wasp +incident, although I fear it will hurt the tender-hearted and religious +reader's susceptibilities more than any of those I have already told. +But it will be told briefly, without digression and moralisings. + +We have come to regard Nature as a sort of providence who is mindful of +us and recompenses us according to what our lives are--whether we +worship her and observe her ordinances or find our pleasure in breaking +them and mocking her who will not be mocked. But it is sad for those +who have the feeling of kinship for all living things, both great and +small, from the whale and the elephant down even to the harvest mouse +and beetle and humble earthworm, to know that killing--killing for +sport or fun--is not forbidden in her decalogue. If the killing at home +is not sufficient to satisfy a man, he can transport himself to the +Dark Continent and revel in the slaughter of all the greatest and +noblest forms of life on the globe. There is no crime and no punishment +and no comfort to those who are looking on, except some on exceedingly +rare occasion when we receive a thrill of joy at the lamentable tidings +of the violent death of some noble young gentleman beloved of everybody +and a big-game hunter, who was elephant-shooting, when one of the great +brutes, stung to madness by his wounds, turned, even when dying, on his +persecutor and trampled him to death. + +In a small, pretty, out-of-the-world village in the West of England I +made the acquaintance of the curate, a boyish young fellow not long +from Oxford, who was devoted to sport and a great killer. He was not +satisfied with cricket and football in their seasons and golf and lawn +tennis--he would even descend to croquet when there was nothing else-- +and boxing and fencing, and angling in the neighbouring streams, but he +had to shoot something every day as well. And it was noticed by the +villagers that the shooting fury was always strongest on him on +Mondays. They said it was a reaction; that after the restraint of +Sunday with its three services, especially the last when he was +permitted to pour out his wild curatical eloquence, the need of doing +something violent and savage was most powerful; that he had, so to say, +to wash out the Sunday taste with blood. + +One August, on one of these Mondays, he was dodging along a hedge-side +with his gun trying to get a shot at some bird, when he unfortunately +thrust his foot into a populous wasps' nest, and the infuriated wasps +issued in a cloud and inflicted many stings on his head and face and +neck and hands, and on other parts of his anatomy where they could +thrust their little needles through his clothes. + +This mishap was the talk of the village. "Never mind," they said +cheerfully--they were all very cheerful over it--"he's a good sports- +man, and like all of that kind, hard as nails, and he'll soon be all +right, making a joke of it." + +The result "proved the rogues, they lied," that he was not hard as +nails, but from that day onwards was a very poor creature indeed. The +brass and steel wires in his system had degenerated into just those +poor little soft grey threads which others have and are subject to many +fantastical ailments. He fell into a nervous condition and started and +blanched and was confused when suddenly hailed or spoken to even by +some harmless old woman. He trembled at a shadow, and the very sight +and sound of a wasp in the breakfast room when he was trying to eat a +little toast and marmalade filled him, thrilled him, with fantastic +terrors never felt before. And in vain to still the beating of his +heart he would sit repeating: "It's only a wasp and nothing more." Then +some of the parishioners who loved animals, for there are usually one +or two like that in a village, began to say that it was a "judgment" on +him, that old Mother Nature, angry at the persecutions of her feathered +children by this young cleric who was supposed to be a messenger of +mercy, had revenged herself on him in that way, using her little yellow +insects as her ministers. + + + + +XXXIV + +IN CHITTERNE CHURCHYARD + + +Chitterne is one of those small out-of-the-world villages in the south +Wiltshire downs which attract one mainly because of their isolation and +loneliness and their unchangeableness. Here, however, you discover that +there has been an important change in comparatively recent years--some +time during the first half of the last century. Chitterne, like most +villages, possesses one church, a big building with a tall spire +standing in its central part. Before it was built there were two +churches and two Chitternes--two parishes with one village, each with +its own proper church. These were situated at opposite ends of the one +long street, and were small ancient buildings, each standing in its own +churchyard. One of these disused burying-places, with a part of the old +building still standing in it, is a peculiarly attractive spot, all the +more so because of long years of neglect and of ivy, bramble, and weed +and flower of many kinds that flourish in it, and have long obliterated +the mounds and grown over the few tombs and headstones that still exist +in the ground. + +It was an excessively hot August afternoon when I last visited +Chitterne, and, wishing to rest for an hour before proceeding on my +way, I went to this old churchyard, naturally thinking that I should +have it all to myself. But I found two persons there, both old women of +the peasant class, meanly dressed; yet it was evident they had their +good clothes on and were neat and clean, each with a basket on her arm, +probably containing her luncheon. For they were only visitors and +strangers there, and strangers to one another as they were to me--that, +too, I could guess: also that they had come there with some object-- +perhaps to find some long unvisited grave, for they were walking about, +crossing and recrossing each other's track, pausing from time to time +to look round, then pulling the ivy aside from some old tomb and +reading or trying to read the worn, moss-grown inscription. I began to +watch their movements with growing interest, and could see that they, +too, were very much interested in each other, although for a long time +they did not exchange a word. Presently I, too, fell to examining the +gravestones, just to get near them, and while pretending to be absorbed +in the inscriptions I kept a sharp eye on their movements. They took no +notice of me. I was nothing to them--merely one of another class, a +foreigner, so to speak, a person cycling about the country who was just +taking a ten minutes' peep at the place to gratify an idle curiosity. +But who was _she_--that other old woman; and what did she want +hunting about there in this old forsaken churchyard? was doubtless what +each of those two was saying to herself. And by-and-by their curiosity +got the better of them; then contrived to meet at one stone which they +both appeared anxious to examine. + +I had anticipated this, and no sooner were they together than I was +down on my knees busily pulling the ivy aside from a stone three or +four yards from theirs, absorbed in my business. They bade each other +good day and said something about the hot weather, which led one to +remark that she had found it very trying as she had left home early to +walk to Salisbury to take the train to Codford, and from there she had +walked again to Chitterne. Oddly enough, the other old woman had also +been travelling all day, but from an opposite direction, over Somerset +way, just to visit Chitterne. It seemed an astonishing thing to them +when it came out that they had both been looking forward for years to +this visit, and that it should have been made on the same day, and that +they should have met there in that same forsaken little graveyard. It +seemed stranger still when they came to tell why they had made this +long-desired visit. They were both natives of the village, and had both +left it early in life, one aged seven, the other ten; they had left +much about the same time, and had never returned until now. And they +were now here with the same object--just to find the graves, unmarked +by a stone, where the mother of one of them, the grandparents of both, +and other relatives they still remembered had been buried more than +half a century ago. They were surprised and troubled at their failure +to identify the very spots where the mounds used to be. "It do all look +so different," said one, "an' the old stones be mostly gone." Finally, +when they told their names and their fathers' names--farm-labourers +both--they failed to remember each other, and could only suppose that +they must have forgotten many things about their far-off childhood, +although others were still as well remembered as the incidents of +yesterday. + +The old dames had become very friendly and confidential by this time. +"I dare say," I said to myself, "that if I can manage to stay to the +end I shall see them embrace and kiss at parting," and I also thought +that their strange meeting in the old village churchyard would be a +treasured memory for the rest of their lives. I feared they would +suspect me of eavesdropping, and taking out my penknife, I began +diligently scraping the dead black moss from the letters on the stone, +after which I made pretence of copying the illegible inscription in my +notebook. They, however, took no notice of me, and began telling each +other what their lives had been since they left Chitterne. Both had +married working men and had lost their husbands many years ago; one was +sixty-nine, the other in her sixty-sixth year, and both were strong and +well able to work, although they had had hard lives. Then in a tone of +triumph, their faces lighting up with a kind of joy, they informed each +other that they had never had to go to the parish for relief. Each was +anxious to be first in telling how it had come about that she, the poor +widow of a working man, had been so much happier in her old age than so +many others. So eager were they to tell it that when one spoke the +other would cut in long before she finished, and when they talked +together it was not easy to keep the two narratives distinct. One was +the mother of four daughters, all still unmarried, earning their own +livings, one in a shop, another a sempstress, two in service in good +houses, earning good wages. Never had woman been so blessed in her +children! They would never see their mother go to the House! The other +had but one, a son, and not many like him; no son ever thought more of +his mother. He was at sea, but every nine to ten months he was back in +Bristol, and then on to visit her, and never let a month pass without +writing to her and sending money to pay her rent and keep a nice +comfortable home for him. + +They congratulated one another; then the mother of four said she always +thanked God for giving her daughters, because they were women and could +feel for a mother. The other replied that it was true, she had often +seen it, the way daughters stuck to their mother--_until they +married_. She was thankful to have a son; a man, she said, is a man +and can go out in the world and do things, and if he is a good son he +will never see his mother want. + +The other was nettled at that speech. "Of course a man's a man," she +returned, "but we all know what men are. They are all right till they +pick up with a girl who wants all their wages; then everyone, mother +and all, must be given up." But a daughter was a daughter always; she +had four, she was happy to say. + +This made matters worse. "Daughters always daughters!" came the quick +rejoinder. "I never learned that before. What, my son take up with a +girl and leave his old mother to starve or go to the workhouse! I never +heard such a foolish thing said in my life!" And, being now quite +angry, she looked round for her basket and shawl so as to get away as +quickly as possible from that insulting woman; but the other, guessing +her intention, was too quick for her and started at once to the gate, +but after going four or five steps turned and delivered her last shot: +"Say what you like about your son, and I don't doubt he's been good to +you, and I only hope it'll always be the same; but what I say is, give +me a daughter, and I know, ma'am, that if you had a daughter you'd be +easier in your mind!" + +Having spoken, she made for the gate, and the other, stung in some +vital part by the last words, stood motionless, white with anger, +staring after her, first in silence, but presently she began talking +audibly to herself. "My son--my son pick up with a girl! My son leave +his mother to go on the parish!"--but I stayed to hear no more; it made +me laugh and--it was too sad. + + + + +XXXV + +A HAUNTER OF CHURCHYARDS + + +I said a little while ago that when staying at a village I am apt to +become a haunter of its churchyard; but I go not to it in the spirit of +our well-beloved Mr. Pecksniff. He, it will be remembered, was +accustomed to take an occasional turn among the tombs in the graveyard +at Amesbury, or wherever it was, to read and commit to memory the pious +and admonitory phrases he found on the stones, to be used later as a +garnish to his beautiful, elevating talk. The attraction for me, which +has little to do with inscriptions, was partly stated in the last +sketch, and I may come to it again by-and-by. + +Nevertheless, I cannot saunter or sit down among these memorials +without paying some attention to the lettering on them, and always with +greatest interest in those which time and weather and the corrosive +lichen have made illegible. The old stones that are no longer visited, +on which no fresh-gathered flower is ever laid, which mark the last +resting-places of the men and women who were once the leading members +of the little rustic community, and are now forgotten for ever, whose +bones for a century past have been crumbling to dust. And the +children's children, and remoter descendants of these dead, where are +they? since one refuses to believe that they inhabit this land any +longer. Under what suns, then, by what mountains and what mighty +rivers, on what great green or sun-parched plains and in what roaring +cities in far-off continents? They have forgotten; they have no memory +nor tradition of these buried ones, nor perhaps even know the name of +this village where they lived and died. Yet we believe that something +from these same dead survives in them--something, too, of the place, +the village, the soil, an inherited memory and emotion. At all events +we know that, wheresoever they may be, that their soul is English +still, that they will hearken to their mother's voice when she calls +and come to her from the very ends of the earth. + +As to the modern stones with inscriptions made so plain that you can +read them at a distance of twenty yards, one cultivates the art of not +seeing them, since if you look attentively at them and read the dull +formal inscription, the disgust you will experience at their extreme +ugliness will drive you from the spot, and so cause you to miss some +delicate loveliness lurking there, like a violet "half hidden from the +eye." But I need not go into this subject here, as I have had my say +about it in a well-known book--Hampshire Days. + +The stones I look at are of the seventeenth, eighteenth and first half +of the nineteenth centuries, for even down to the fifties of last +century something of the old tradition lingered on, and not all the +stones were shaped and lettered in imitation of an auctioneer's +advertisement posted on a barn door. + +In reading the old inscriptions, often deciphered with difficulty after +scraping away the moss and lichen, we occasionally discover one that +has the charm of quaintness, or which touches our heart or sense of +humour in such a way as to tempt us to copy it into a note-book. + +In this way I have copied a fair number, and in glancing over my old +note-books containing records of my rambles and observations, mostly +natural history, I find these old epitaphs scattered through them. But +I have never copied an inscription with the intention of using it. And +this for the sufficient reason that epitaphs collected in a book do not +interest me or anyone. They are in the wrong place in a book and cannot +produce the same effect as when one finds and spells them out on a +weathered stone or mural tablet out or inside a village church. It is +the atmosphere--the place, the scene, the associations, which give it +its only value and sometimes make it beautiful and precious. The stone +itself, its ancient look, half-hidden in many cases by ivy, and clothed +over in many-coloured moss and lichen and aerial algae, and the +stonecutter's handiwork, his lettering, and the epitaphs he revelled +in--all this is lost when you take the inscription away and print it. +Take this one, for instance, as a specimen of a fairly good +seventeenth-century epitaph, from Shrewton, a village on Salisbury +Plain, not far from Stonehenge: + + HERE IS MY HOPE TILL TRVMP + SHALL SOVND AND CHRIST + FOR MEE DOTH CALL THEN + SHALL I RISE FROM DEATH + TO LIFE NOE MORETO + DYE AT ALL + + R + HERE LIES THE BODY OF ROBET + WANESBROVGH THE SD + E O ED + OF Y NAME W DEPART THIS + R E + LIFE DEC Y 9TH AODNI 1675 + +It would not be very interesting to put this in a book: + + Here is my hope till trump shall sound + And Christ for me doth call, + Then shall I rise from death to life + No more to die at all. + +But it was interesting to find it there, to examine the old lettering +and think perhaps that if you had been standing at the elbow of the old +lapidary, two and a half centuries ago, you might have given him a +wrinkle in the economising of space and labour. In any case, to find it +there in the dim, rich interior of that ancient village church, to view +it in a religious or reverent mood, and then by-and-by in the dusty +belfry to stumble on other far older memorials of the same family, and +finally, coming out into the sunny churchyard, to come upon the same +name once more in an inscription which tells you that he died in 1890, +aged 88. And you think it a good record after nine generations, and +that the men who lie under these wide skies on these open chalk downs +do not degenerate. + +I have copied these inscriptions for a purpose of my own, just as one +plucks a leaf or a flower and drops it between the pages of a book he +is reading to remind him on some future occasion, when by chance he +finds it again on opening the book at some future time, of the scene, +the place, the very mood of the moment. + +Now, after all said, I am going to quote a few of my old gleanings from +gravestones, not because they are good of their kind--my collection +will look poor and meagre enough compared with those that others have +made--but I have an object in doing it which will appear presently in +the comments. + +Always the best epitaphs to be found in books are those composed by +versifiers for their own and the reading public's amusement, and always +the best in the collection are the humorous ones. + +The first collection I ever read was by the Spanish poet, Martinez de +la Rosa, and although I was a boy then, I can still remember one: + + Aqui Fray Diego reposa, + Jamas hiso otra cosa. + +Which, translated literally, means: + + Here Friar James reposes: + He never did anything else. + +This does well enough on the printed page, but would shock the mind if +seen on a gravestone, and perhaps the rarest of all epitaphs are the +humorous ones. But one is pleased to meet with the unconsciously +humorous; the little titillation, the smile, is a relief, and does not +take away the sense of the tragedy of life and the mournful end. + +A good specimen of the unconsciously humorous epitaph is on a stone in +the churchyard at Maddington, a small village in the Wiltshire Downs, +dated 1843: + + These few lines have been procured + To tell the pains which he endured, + He was crushed to death by the fall + Of an old mould'ring, tottering wall. + All ye young people that pass by + Remember this and breathe a sigh, + Lord, let him hear thy pard'ning voice + And make his broken bones rejoice. + +A better one, from the little village of Mylor, near Falmouth, has I +fancy been often copied: + + His foot it slipped and he did fall, + Help! help! he cried, and that was all. + +And still a better one I found in the churchyard of St. Margaret's at +Lynn, to John Holgate, aged 27, who died in 1712: + + He hath gained his port and is at ease, + And hath escapt ye danger of ye seas, + His glass is run his life is gone, + Which to my thought never did no man no wronge. + +That last line is remarkable, for although its ten slow words have +apparently fallen by chance into that form and express nothing but a +little negative praise of their subject, they say something more by +implication. They conceal a mournful protest against the cruelty and +injustice of his lot, and remind us of the old Italian folk-song, "O +Barnaby, why did you die?" With plenty of wine in the house and salad +in the garden, how wrong, how unreasonable of you to die! But even +while blaming you in so many words, we know, O Barnaby, that the +decision came not from you, and was an outrage, but dare not say so +lest he himself should be listening, and in his anger at one word +should take us away too before our time. It is unconsciously humorous, +yet with the sense of tears in it. + +But there is no sense of tears in the unconscious humour of the solemn +or pompous epitaph composed by the village ignoramus. + +A century ago the village idiot was almost always a member of the +little rustic community, and was even useful to it in two distinct +ways. He was "God's Fool," and compassion and sweet beneficent +instinct, or soul growths, flourished the more for his presence; and +secondly, he was a perpetual source of amusement, a sort of free cinema +provided by Nature for the children's entertainment. I am not sure that +his removal has not been a loss to the little rural centres of life. + +Side by side with the village idiot there was the pompous person who +could not only read a book, but could put whole sentences together and +even make rhymes, and who on these grounds took an important part in +the life of the community. He was not only adviser and letter-writer to +his neighbours, but often composed inscriptions for their gravestones +when they were dead. But in the best specimen of this kind which I have +come upon, I feel pretty sure, from internal evidence, that the buried +man had composed his own epitaph, and probably designed the form of the +stone and its ornamentation. I found this stone in the churchyard of +Minturne Magna, in Dorset. The stone was five feet high and four and a +half broad--a large canvas, so to speak. On the upper half a Tree of +Knowledge was depicted, with leaves and apples, the serpent wound about +the trunk, with Adam and Eve standing on either side. Eve is extending +her arm, with an apple in her open hand, to Adam, and he, foolish man, +is putting out a hand to take it. Then follows the extraordinary +inscription: + + Here lyeth the Body + Of Richard Elambert, + Late of Holnust, who died + June 6, in the year 1805, in the + 100 year of his age. + Neighbours make no stay, + Return unto the Lord, + Nor put it off from day to day, + For Death's a debt ye all must pay. + Ye knoweth not how soon, + It may be the next moment, + Night, morning or noon. + I set this as a caution + To my neighbours in rime, + God give grace that you + May all repent in time. + For what God has decreed, + We surely must obey, + For when please God to send + His death's dart into us so keen, + O then we must go hence + And be no more here seen. + + ALSO + + Handy lyeth here + Dianna Elambert, + Which was my only daughter dear, + Who died Jan. 10, 1776, + In the 18th year of her age. + +Poor Diana deserved a less casual word! + +Enough of that kind. The next to follow is the quite plain, sensible, +narrative inscription, with no pretension to fine diction, albeit in +rhyme. Oddly enough the most perfect example I have found is in the +churchyard at Kew, which seems too near to London: + + + Here lyith the bodies of Robert and Ann + Plaistow, late of Tyre, Edghill, in Warwickshire, + Dyed August 23, 1728. + At Tyre they were born and bred + And in the same good lives they led, + Until they come to married state, + Which was to them most fortunate. + Near sixty years of mortal life + They were a happy man and wife, + And being so by Nature tyed + When one fell sick the other dyed, + And both together laid in dust + To await the rising of the just. + They had six children born and bred, + And five before them being dead, + Their only then surviving son + Hath caused this stone for to be done. + +After this little masterpiece I will quote no other in this class. + +After copying some scores of inscriptions, we find that there has +always been a convention or fashion in such things, and that it has +been constantly but gradually changing during the last three centuries. +Very few of the seventeenth century, which are the best, are now +decipherable, out of doors at all events. In an old graveyard you will +perhaps find two or three among two or three hundred stones, yet you +believe that two to three hundred years ago the small space was as +thickly peopled with stones as now. The two or three or more that have +not perished are of the very hardest kind of stone, and the old letters +often show that they were cut with great difficulty. We also find that +apart from the convention of the age or time, there were local +conventions or fashions. In some parts of the South of England you find +numbers of enormous stones five feet high and nearly as broad. This +mode has long vanished. But you find a resemblance in the inscriptions +as well. Thus, wherever the Methodists obtained a firm hold on the +community, you find the spirit of ugliness appearing in the village +churchyard from the middle of the eighteenth century onwards, when the +old ornate and beautiful stones with figures of winged cherubs bearing +torches, scattering flowers or blowing trumpets, were the usual +decorations, giving place to the plain or ugly stone with its square +ugly lettering and the dull monotonous form of the inscription. "To the +memory of Mr. Buggins of this parish, who died on February 27th, 1801, +aged 67." And then, to save trouble and expense, a verse from a hymn, +or the simple statement that he is asleep in Jesus, or is awaiting the +resurrection. + +I am inclined to blame Methodism for these horrors simply because it +is, as we know, the cult of ugliness, but there may have been another +cause for the change; it was perhaps to some extent a reaction against +the stilted, the pompous and silly epitaph which one finds most common +in the first half of the eighteenth century. + +Here is a perfect specimen which I found at St. Just, in Cornwall, to a +Martin Williams, 1771: + + Life's but a snare, a Labyrinth of Woe + Which wretched Man is doomed to struggle through. + To-day he's great, to-morrow he's undone, + And thus with Hope and Fear he blunders on, + Till some disease, or else perhaps old Age + Calls us poor Mortals trembling from the Stage. + +An amusing variant of one of the commoner forms of that time appears at +Lelant, a Cornish village near St. Ives: + + What now you are so once was me, + What now I am that you will be, + Therefore prepare to follow me. + +No less remarkable in grammar as in the identical or perfect rhyme in +the first and third lines. The author or adapter could have escaped +this by making the two first the expression of the person buried +beneath, and the third the comment from the outsider, as follows: + + Therefore prepare to follow _she_, + +It was a woman, I must say. + +This form of epitaph is quite common, and I need not give here more +examples from my notes, but the better convention coming down from the +preceding age goes on becoming more and more modified all through the +eighteenth, and even to the middle of the nineteenth century. + +The following from St. Erth, a Cornish village, is a most suitable +inscription on the grave of an old woman who was a nurse in the same +family from 1750 to 1814: + + + Time rolls her ceaseless course; the race of yore + That danced our infancy on their knee + And told our wondering children Legends lore + Of strange adventures haped by Land and Sea, + How are they blotted from the things that be! + +There are many beautiful stones and appropriate inscriptions during all +that long period, in spite of the advent of Mr. Buggins and his +ugliness, and the charm and pathos is often in a phrase, a single line, +as in this from St. Keverne, 1710, a widow's epitaph on her husband: + + Rest here awhile, thou dearest part of me. + +But let us now get back another century at a jump, to the Jacobean and +Caroline period. And for these one must look as a rule in interiors, +seeing that, where exposed to the weather, the lettering, if not the +whole stone, has perished. Perhaps the best specimen of the grave +inscription, lofty but not pompous, of that age which I have met with +is on a tablet in Ripon Cathedral to Hugh de Ripley, a locally +important man who died in 1637: + + Others seek titles to their tombs + Thy deeds to thy name prove new wombes + And scutcheons to deck their Herse + Which thou need'st not like teares and vers. + If I should praise thy thriving witt + Or thy weighed judgment serving it + Thy even and thy like straight ends + Thy pitie to God and to friends + The last would still the greatest be + And yet all jointly less than thee. + Thou studiedst conscience more than fame + Still to thy gathered selfe the same. + Thy gold was not thy saint nor welth + Purchased by rapine worse than stealth + Nor did'st thou brooding on it sit + Not doing good till death with it. + This many may blush at when they see + What thy deeds were what theirs should be. + Thou'st gone before and I wait now + T'expect my when and wait my how + Which if my Jesus grant like thine + Who wets my grave's no friend of mine. + +Rather too long for my chapter, but I quote it for the sake of the last +four lines, characteristic of that period, the age of conceits, of the +love of fantasticalness, of Donne, Crashaw, Vaughan. + +A jump from Ripon of 600 odd miles to the little village of Ludgvan, +near Penzance, brings us to a tablet of nearly the same date, 1635, and +an inscription conceived in the same style and spirit. It is +interesting, on account of the name of Catherine Davy, an ancestress of +the famous Sir Humphry, whose marble statue stands before the Penzance +Market House facing Market Jew Street. + + Death shall not make her memory to rott + Her virtues were too great to be forgott. + Heaven hath her soul where it must still remain + The world her worth to blazon forth her fame + The poor relieved do honour and bless her name. + Earth, Heaven, World, Poor, do her immortalize + Who dying lives and living never dies. + +Here is another of 1640: + + Here lyeth the body of my Husband deare + Whom next to God I did most love and fear. + Our loves were single: we never had but one + And so I'll be although that thou art gone. + +Which means that she has no intention of marrying again. Why have I set +this inscription down? Solely to tell how I copied it. I saw it on a +brass in the obscure interior of a small village church in Dorset, but +placed too high up on the wall to be seen distinctly. By piling seven +hassocks on top of one another I got high up enough to read the date +and inscription, but before securing the name I had to get quickly down +for fear of falling and breaking my neck. The hassocks had added five +feet to my six. + +The convention of that age appears again in the following inscription +from a tablet in Aldermaston church, in that beautiful little Berkshire +village, once the home of the Congreves: + + Like borne, like new borne, here like dead they lie, + Four virgin sisters decked with pietie + Beauty and other graces which commend + And made them like blessed in the end. + +Which means they were very much like each other, and were all as pure +in heart as new-born babes, and that they all died unmarried. + +Where the epitaph-maker of that time occasionally went wrong was in his +efforts to get his fantasticalness in willy-nilly, or in a silly play +upon words, as in the following example from the little village of +Boyton on the Wylie river, on a man named Barnes, who died in 1638: + + Stay Passenger and view a stack of corne + Reaped and laid up in the Almighty's Barne + Or rather Barnes of Choyce and precious grayne + Put in his garner there still to remaine. + +But in the very next village--that of Stockton--I came on the best I +have found of that time. It is, however, a little earlier in time, +before fantasticalness came into fashion, and in spirit is of the +nobler age. It is to Elizabeth Potecary, who died in 1590. + + Here she interred lies deprived of breath + Whose light of virtue once on Earth did shyne + Who life contemned ne feared ghostly death + Whom worlde ne worldlye cares could cause repine + Resolved to die with hope in Heaven placed + Her Christ to see whom living she embraced + In paynes most fervent still in zeal most strong + In death delighting God to magnifye + How long will thou forgett me Lord! this cry + In greatest pangs was her sweet harmonye + Forgett thee? No! he will not thee forgett + In books of Lyfe thy name for aye is set. + +And with Elizabeth Potecary, that dear lady dead these three centuries +and longer, I must bring this particular Little Thing to an end. + + + + +XXXVI + +THE DEAD AND THE LIVING + + +The last was indeed in essence a small thing, but was running to such a +great length it had to be ended before my selected best inscriptions +were used up, also before the true answer to the question: "Why, if +inscriptions do not greatly interest me, do I haunt churchyards?" was +given. Let me give it now: it will serve as a suitable conclusion to +what has already been said on the subject in this and in a former book. + +When we have sat too long in a close, hot, brilliantly-lighted, over- +crowded room, a sense of unutterable relief is experienced on coming +forth into the pure, fresh, cold night and filling our lungs with air +uncontaminated with the poisonous gases discharged from other lungs. An +analogous sense of immense relief, of escape from confinement and +joyful liberation, is experienced mentally when after long weeks or +months in London I repair to a rustic village. Yet, like the person who +has in his excitement been inhaling poison into his system for long +hours, I am not conscious of the restraint at the time. Not consciously +conscious. The mind was too exclusively occupied with itself--its own +mind affairs. The cage was only recognised as a cage, an unsuitable +habitation, when I was out of it. An example, this, of the eternal +disharmony between the busy mind and nature--or Mother Nature, let us +say; the more the mind is concentrated on its own business the blinder +we are to the signals of disapproval on her kindly countenance, the +deafer to her warning whispers in our ear. + +The sense of relief is chiefly due to the artificiality of the +conditions of London or town life, and no doubt varies greatly in +strength in town and country-bred persons; in me it is so strong that +on first coming out to where there are woods and fields and hedges, I +am almost moved to tears. + +We have recently heard the story of the little East-end boy on his +holiday in a quiet country spot, who exclaimed: "How full of sound the +country is! Now in London we can't hear the sound because of the +noises." And as with sound--the rural sounds that are familiar from of +old and find an echo in us--so with everything: we do not hear nor see +nor smell nor feel the earth, which he is, physically and mentally, in +such per-period, the years that run to millions, that it has "entered +the soul"; an environment with which he is physically and mentally, in +such perfect harmony that it is like an extension of himself into the +surrounding space. Sky and cloud and wind and rain, and rock and soil +and water, and flocks and herds and all wild things, with trees and +flowers--everywhere grass and everlasting verdure--it is all part of +men, and is me, as I sometimes feel in a mystic mood, even as a +religious man in a like mood feels that he is in a heavenly place and +is a native there, one with it. + +Another less obvious cause of my feeling is that the love of our kind +cannot exist, or at all events not unmixed with contempt and various +other unpleasant ingredients, in people who live and have their being +amidst thousands and millions of their fellow-creatures herded +together. The great thoroughfares in which we walk are peopled with an +endless procession, an innumerable multitude; we hardly see and do not +look at or notice them, knowing beforehand that we do not know and +never will know them to our dying day; from long use we have almost +ceased to regard them as fellow-beings. + +I recall here a tradition of the Incas, which tells that in the +beginning a benevolent god created men on the slopes of the Andes, and +that after a time another god, who was at enmity with the first, +spitefully transformed them into insects. Here we have a contrary +effect--it is the insects which have been transformed; the millions of +wood-ants, let us say, inhabiting an old and exceedingly populous nest +have been transformed into men, but in form only; mentally they are +still ants, all silently, everlastingly hurrying by, absorbed in their +ant-business. You can almost smell the formic acid. Walking in the +street, one of the swarming multitude, you are in but not of it. You +are only one with the others in appearance; in mind you are as unlike +them as a man is unlike an ant, and the love and sympathy you feel +towards them is about equal to that which you experience when looking +down on the swarm in a wood-ants' nest. + +Undoubtedly when I am in the crowd, poisoned by contact with the crowd- +mind--the formic acid of the spirits--I am not actually or keenly +conscious of the great gulf between me and the others, but, as in the +former case, the sense of relief is experienced here too in escaping +from it. The people of the small rustic community have not been de- +humanised. I am a stranger, and they do not meet me with blank faces +and pass on in ant-like silence. So great is the revulsion that I look +on them as of my kin, and am so delighted to be with them again after +an absence of centuries, that I want to embrace and kiss them all. I am +one of them, a villager with the village mind, and no wish for any +other. + +This mind or heart includes the dead as well as the living, and the +church and churchyard is the central spot and half-way house or +camping-ground between this and the other world, where dead and living +meet and hold communion--a fact that is unknown to or ignored by +persons of the "better class," the parish priest or vicar sometimes +included. + +And as I have for the nonce taken on the village mind, I am as much +interested in my incorporeal, invisible neighbours as in those I see +and am accustomed to meet and converse with every day. They are here in +the churchyard, and I am pleased to be with them. Even when I sit, as I +sometimes do of an evening, on a flat tomb with a group of laughing +children round me, some not yet tired of play, climbing up to my side +only to jump down again, I am not oblivious of their presence. They are +there, and are glad to see the children playing among the tombs where +they too had their games a century ago. I notice that the village woman +passing through the ground pauses a minute with her eyes resting on a +certain spot; even the tired labourer, coming home to his tea, will let +his eyes dwell on some green mound, to see sitting or standing there +someone who in life was very near and dear to him, with whom he is now +exchanging greetings. But the old worn-out labourer, who happily has +not gone to end his days in captivity in the bitter Home of the Poor-- +he, sitting on a tomb to rest and basking in the sunshine, has a whole +crowd of the vanished villagers about him. + +It is useless their telling us that when we die we are instantly judged +and packed straight off to some region where we are destined to spend +an eternity. We know better. Nature, our own hearts, have taught us +differently. Furthermore, we have heard of the resurrection--that the +dead will rise again at the last day; and with all our willingness to +believe what our masters tell us, we know that even a dead man can't be +in two places at the same time. Our dead are here where we laid them; +sleeping, no doubt, but not so soundly sleeping, we imagine, as not to +see and hear us when we visit and speak to them. And being villagers +still though dead, they like to see us often, whenever we have a few +spare minutes to call round and exchange a few words with them. + +This extremely beautiful--and in its effect beneficial--feeling and +belief, or instinct, or superstition if the superior inhabitants of the +wood-ants' nest, who throw their dead away and think no more about +them, will have it so--is a sweet and pleasant thing in the village +life and a consolation to those who are lonely. Let me in conclusion +give an instance. + +The churchyard I like best is situated in the village itself, and is in +use both for the dead and living, and the playground of the little +ones, but some time ago I by chance discovered one which was over half +a mile from the village; an ancient beautiful church and churchyard +which so greatly attracted me that in my rambles in that part I often +went a mile or two out of my way just for the pleasure of spending an +hour or two in that quiet sacred spot. It was in a wooded district in +Hampshire, and there were old oak woods all round the church, with no +other building in sight and seldom a sound of human life. There was an +old road outside the gate, but few used it. The tombs and stones were +many and nearly covered with moss and lichen and half-draped in +creeping ivy. There, sitting on a tomb, I would watch the small +woodland birds that made it their haunt, and listen to the delicate +little warbling or tinkling notes, and admire the two ancient +picturesque yew trees growing there. + +One day, while sitting on a tomb, I saw a woman coming from the village +with a heavy basket on her head, and on coming to the gate she turned +in, and setting the basket down walked to a spot about thirty yards +from where I sat, and at that spot she remained for several minutes +standing motionless, her eyes cast down, her arms hanging at her sides. +A cottage woman in a faded cotton gown, of a common Hampshire type, +flat-chested, a rather long oval face, almost colourless, and black +dusty hair. She looked thirty-five, but was probably less than thirty, +as women of their class age early in this county and get the toil-worn, +tired face when still young. + +By-and-by I went over to her and asked her if she was visiting some of +her people at that spot. Yes, she returned; her mother and father were +buried under the two grass mounds at her feet; and then quite +cheerfully she went on to tell me all about them--how all their other +children had gone away to live at a distance from home, and she was +left alone with them when they grew old and infirm. They were natives +of the village, and after they were both dead, five years ago, she got +a place at a farm about a mile up the road. There she had been ever +since, but fortunately she had to come to the village every week, and +always on her way back she spent a quarter or half an hour with her +parents. She was sure they looked for that weekly visit from her, as +they had no other relation in the place now, and that they liked to +hear all the village news from her. + +All this and more she told me in the most open way. Like Wordsworth's +"simple child," what could she know of death? But being a villager +myself I was better informed than Wordsworth, and didn't enter on a +ponderous argument to prove to her that when people die they die, and +being dead, they can't be alive--therefore to pay them a weekly visit +and tell them all the news was a mere waste of time and breath. + + + + +XXXVII + +A STORY OF THREE POEMS + + +I wrote in the last sketch but one of the villager with a literary gift +who composes the epitaphs in rhyme of his neighbours when they pass +away and are buried in the churchyard. This has served to remind me of +a kindred subject--the poetry or verse (my own included) of those who +are not poets by profession: also of an incident. Undoubtedly there is +a vast difference between the village rhymester and the true poet, and +the poetry I am now concerned with may be said to come somewhat between +these two extremes. Or to describe it in metaphor, it may be said to +come midway between the crow of the "tame villatic fowl" and the music +of the nightingale in the neighbouring copse or of the skylark singing +at heaven's gate. The impartial reader may say at the finish that the +incident was not worth relating. Are there any such readers? I doubt +it. I take it that we all, even those who appear the most matter-of- +fact in their minds and lives, have something of the root, the +elements, of poetry in their composition. How should it be otherwise, +seeing that we are all creatures of like passions, all in some degree +dreamers of dreams; and as we all possess the faculty of memory we must +at times experience emotions recollected in tranquillity. And that, our +masters have told us, is poetry. + +It is hardly necessary to say that it is nothing of the sort: it is the +elements, the essence, the feeling which makes poetry if expressed. I +have a passion for music, a perpetual desire to express myself in +music, but as I can't sing and can't perform on any musical instrument, +I can't call myself a musician. The poetic feeling that is in us and +cannot be expressed remains a secret untold, a warmth in the heart, a +rapture which cannot be communicated. But it cries to be told, and in +some rare instances the desire overcomes the difficulty: in a happy +moment the unknown language is captured as by a miracle and the secret +comes out. + +And, as a rule, when it has been expressed it is put in the fire, or +locked up in a desk. By-and-by the hidden poem will be taken out and +read with a blush. For how could he, a practical-minded man, with a +wholesome contempt for the small scribblers and people weak in their +intellectuals generally, have imagined himself a poet and produced this +pitiful stuff! + +Then, too, there are others who blush, but with pleasure, at the +thought that, without being poets, they have written something out of +their own heads which, to them at all events, reads just like poetry. +Some of these little poems find their way into an editor's hands, to be +looked at and thrown aside in most cases, but occasionally one wins a +place in some periodical, and my story relates to one of these chosen +products--or rather to three. + +One summer afternoon, many years ago--but I know the exact date: July +1st, 1897--I was drinking tea on the lawn of a house at Kew, when the +maid brought the letters out to her mistress, and she, Mrs. E. Hubbard, +looking over the pile remarked that she saw the _Selborne +Magazine_ had come and she would just glance over it to see if it +contained anything to interest both of us. + +After a minute or two she exclaimed "Why, here is a poem by Charlie +Longman! How strange--I never suspected him of being a poet!" + +She was speaking of C. J. Longman, the publisher, and it must be +explained that he was an intimate friend and connection of hers through +his marriage with her niece, the daughter of Sir John Evans the +antiquary, and sister of Sir Arthur Evans. + +The poem was _To the Orange-tip Butterfly_. + + Cardamines! Cardamines! + Thine hour is when the thrushes sing, + When gently stirs the vernal breeze, + When earth and sky proclaim the spring; + When all the fields melodious ring + With cuckoos' calls, when all the trees + Put on their green, then art thou king + Of butterflies, Cardamines. + + What though thine hour be brief, for thee + The storms of winter never blow, + No autumn gales shall scorn the lea, + Thou scarce shalt feel the summer's glow; + But soaring high or flitting low, + Or racing with the awakening bees + For spring's first draughts of honey--so + Thy life is passed, Cardamines. + + Cardamines! Cardamines! + E'en among mortal men I wot + Brief life while spring-time quickly flees + Might seem a not ungrateful lot: + For summer's rays are scorching hot + And autumn holds but summer's lees, + And swift in autumn is forgot + The winter comes, Cardamines. + +So well pleased were we with this little lyric that we read it aloud +two or three times over to each other: for it was a hot summer's day +when the early, freshness and bloom is over and the foliage takes on a +deeper, almost sombre green; and it brought back to us the vivid spring +feeling, the delight we had so often experienced on seeing again the +orange-tip, that frail delicate flutterer, the loveliest, the most +spiritual, of our butterflies. + +Oddly enough, the very thing which, one supposes, would spoil a lyric +about any natural object--the use of a scientific instead of a popular +name, with the doubling and frequent repetition of it--appeared in this +instance to add a novel distinction and beauty to the verses. + +The end of our talk on the subject was a suggestion I made that it +would be a nice act on her part to follow Longman's lead and write a +little nature poem for the next number of the magazine. This she said +she would do if I on my part would promise to follow her poem with one +by me, and I said I would. + +Accordingly her poem, which I transcribe, made its appearance in the +next number. + + MY MOOR + + Purple with heather, and golden with gorse, + Stretches the moorland for mile after mile; + Over it cloud-shadows float in their course,-- + Grave thoughts passing athwart a smile,-- + Till the shimmering distance, grey and gold, + Drowns all in a glory manifold. + + O the blue butterflies quivering there, + Hovering, flickering, never at rest, + Quickened flecks of the upper air + Brought down by seeing the earth so blest; + And the grasshoppers shrilling their quaint delight + At having been born in a world so bright! + + Overhead circles the lapwing slow, + Waving his black-tipped curves of wings, + Calling so clearly that I, as I go, + Call back an answering "Peewit," that brings + The sweep of his circles so low as he flies + That I see his green plume, and the doubt in his eyes. + + Harebell and crowfoot and bracken and ling + Gladden my heart as it beats all aglow + In a brotherhood true with each living thing, + From the crimson-tipped bee, and the chaffer slow, + And the small lithe lizard, with jewelled eye, + To the lark that has lost herself far in the sky. + + Ay me, where am I? for here I sit + With bricks all round me, bilious and brown; + And not a chance this summer to quit + The bustle and roar and the cries of town, + Nor to cease to breathe this over-breathed air, + Heavy with toil and bitter with care. + + Well,--face it and chase it, this vain regret; + Which would I choose, to see my moor + With eyes such as many that I have met, + Which see and are blind, which all wealth leaves poor, + Or to sit, brick-prisoned, but free within, + Freeborn by a charter no gold can win? + +When my turn came, the poem I wrote, which duly appeared, was, like my +friend's _Moor_, a recollected emotion, a mental experience +relived. Mine was in the New Forest; when walking there on day, the +loveliness of that green leafy world, its silence and its melody and +the divine sunlight, so wrought on me that for a few precious moments +it produced a mystical state, that rare condition of beautiful +illusions when the feet are off the ground, when, on some occasions, we +appear to be one with nature, unbodied like the poet's bird, floating, +diffused in it. There are also other occasions when this transfigured +aspect of nature produces the idea that we are in communion with or in +the presence of unearthly entities. + + THE VISIONARY + + I + + It must be true, I've somtimes thought, + That beings from some realm afar + Oft wander in the void immense, + Flying from star to star. + + In silence through this various world, + They pass, to mortal eyes unseen, + And toiling men in towns know not + That one with them has been. + + But oft, when on the woodland falls + A sudden hush, and no bird sings; + When leaves, scarce fluttered by the wind, + Speak low of sacred things, + + My heart has told me I should know, + In such a lonely place, if one + From other worlds came there and stood + Between me and the sun. + + II + + At noon, within the woodland shade + I walked and listened to the birds; + And feeling glad like them I sang + A low song without words. + + When all at once a radiance white, + Not from the sun, all round me came; + The dead leaves burned like gold, the grass + Like tongues of emerald flame. + + The murmured song died on my lips; + Scarce breathing, motionless I stood; + So strange that splendour was! so deep + A silence held the wood! + + The blood rushed to and from my heart, + Now felt like ice, now fire in me, + Till putting forth my hands, I cried, + "O let me hear and see!" + + But even as I spake, and gazed + Wide-eyed, and bowed my trembling knees, + The glory and the silence passed + Like lightning from the trees. + + And pale at first the sunlight seemed + When it was gone; the leaves were stirred + To whispered sound, and loud rang out + The carol of a bird. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Traveller in Little Things, by W. 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