按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
not on account of the badness of my tongue。'
'Well；' said I； 'you can return now； the Bourbons are restored。'
'I find myself very well here； not bad country。 Il est vrai que la
France sera toujours la France； but all are dead there who knew me。
I find myself very well here。 Preach in popish chapel； teach
schismatic； that is Protestant； child tongues and literature。 I
find myself very well； and why？ Because I know how to govern my
tongue； never call people hard names。 Ma foi； il y a beaucoup de
difference entre moi et ce sacre de Dante。'
Under this old man； who was well versed in the southern languages；
besides studying French and Italian； I acquired some knowledge of
Spanish。 But I did not devote my time entirely to philology； I had
other pursuits。 I had not forgotten the roving life I had led in
former days； nor its delights； neither was I formed by Nature to be
a pallid indoor student。 No； no！ I was fond of other and； I say
it boldly； better things than study。 I had an attachment to the
angle； ay； and to the gun likewise。 In our house was a condemned
musket； bearing somewhere on its lock； in rather antique
characters； 'Tower； 1746'； with this weapon I had already； in
Ireland； performed some execution among the rooks and choughs； and
it was now again destined to be a source of solace and amusement to
me； in the winter season； especially on occasions of severe frost
when birds abounded。 Sallying forth with it at these times； far
into the country； I seldom returned at night without a string of
bullfinches； blackbirds； and linnets hanging in triumph round my
neck。 When I reflect on the immense quantity of powder and shot
which I crammed down the muzzle of my uncouth fowling…piece； I am
less surprised at the number of birds which I slaughtered than that
I never blew my hands； face； and old honeycombed gun； it one and
the same time； to pieces。
But the winter； alas！ （I speak as a fowler） seldom lasts in England
more than three or four months； so； during the rest of the year；
when not occupied with my philological studies； I had to seek for
other diversions。 I have already given a hint that I was also
addicted to the angle。 Of course there is no comparison between
the two pursuits； the rod and line seeming but very poor trumpery
to one who has had the honour of carrying a noble firelock。 There
is a time； however； for all things； and we return to any favourite
amusement with the greater zest； from being compelled to relinquish
it for a season。 So； if I shot birds in winter with my firelock； I
caught fish in summer； or attempted so to do； with my angle。 I was
not quite so successful； it is true； with the latter as with the
former； possibly because it afforded me less pleasure。 It was；
indeed； too much of a listless pastime to inspire me with any great
interest。 I not unfrequently fell into a doze； whilst sitting on
the bank； and more than once let my rod drop from my hands into the
water。
At some distance from the city； behind a range of hilly ground
which rises towards the south…west； is a small river； the waters of
which； after many meanderings； eventually enter the principal river
of the district； and assist to swell the tide which it rolls down
to the ocean。 It is a sweet rivulet； and pleasant is it to trace
its course from its spring…head； high up in the remote regions of
Eastern Anglia； till it arrives in the valley behind yon rising
ground； and pleasant is that valley； truly a goodly spot； but most
lovely where yonder bridge crosses the little stream。 Beneath its
arch the waters rush garrulously into a blue pool； and are there
stilled； for a time； for the pool is deep； and they appear to have
sunk to sleep。 Farther on； however； you hear their voice again；
where they ripple gaily over yon gravelly shallow。 On the left；
the hill slopes gently down to the margin of the stream。 On the
right is a green level； a smiling meadow； grass of the richest
decks the side of the slope； mighty trees also adorn it； giant
elms； the nearest of which； when the sun is nigh its meridian；
fling a broad shadow upon the face of the pool； through yon vista
you catch a glimpse of the ancient brick of an old English hall。
It has a stately look； that old building； indistinctly seen； as it
is； among those umbrageous trees； you might almost suppose it an
earl's home； and such it was； or rather upon its site stood an
earl's home； in days of old； for there some old Kemp； some Sigurd
or Thorkild； roaming in quest of a hearthstead； settled down in the
gray old time； when Thor and Freya were yet gods； and Odin was a
portentous name。 Yon old hall is still called the Earl's Home；
though the hearth of Sigurd is now no more； and the bones of the
old Kemp； and of Sigrith his dame； have been mouldering for a
thousand years in some neighbouring knoll； perhaps yonder； where
those tall Norwegian pines shoot up so boldly into the air。 It is
said that the old earl's galley was once moored where is now that
blue pool； for the waters of that valley were not always sweet； yon
valley was once an arm of the sea； a salt lagoon； to which the war…
barks of 'Sigurd； in search of a home；' found their way。
I was in the habit of spending many an hour on the banks of that
rivulet； with my rod in my hand； and； when tired with angling；
would stretch myself on the grass； and gaze upon the waters as they
glided past； and not unfrequently； divesting myself of my dress； I
would plunge into the deep pool which I have already mentioned； for
I had long since learned to swim。 And it came to pass that on one
hot summer's day； after bathing in the pool； I passed along the
meadow till I came to a shallow part； and； wading over to the
opposite side； I adjusted my dress； and commenced fishing in
another pool； beside which was a small clump of hazels。
And there I sat upon the bank； at the bottom of the hill which
slopes down from 'the Earl's home'； my float was on the waters； and
my back was towards the old hall。 I drew up many fish； small and
great； which I took from off the hook mechanically； and flung upon
the bank； for I was almost unconscious of what I was about； for my
mind was not with my fish。 I was thinking of my earlier years … of
the Scottish crags and the heaths of Ireland … and sometimes my
mind would dwell on my studies … on the sonorous stanzas of Dante；
rising and falling like the waves of the sea … or would strive to
remember a couplet or two of poor Monsieur Boileau。
'Canst thou answer to thy conscience for pulling all those fish out
of the water； and leaving them to gasp in the sun？' said a voice；
clear and sonorous as a bell。
I started； and looked round。 Close behind me stood the tall figure
of a man； dressed in raiment of quaint and singular fashion； but of
goodly materials。 He was in the prime and vigour of