Says our friend: Considering the subject, the discussion was
good-tempered; for those present being used to public meetings
and after-lecture debates, if they did not listen to each others'
opinions (which could hardly be expected of them), at all events
did not always attempt to speak all together, as is the custom of
people in ordinary polite society when conversing on a subject
which interests them. For the rest, there were six persons
present, and consequently six sections of the party were
represented, four of which had strong but divergent Anarchist
opinions. One of the sections, says our friend, a man whom he
knows very well indeed, sat almost silent at the beginning of the
discussion, but at last got drawn into it and finished by roaring
out very loud, and damning all the rest for fools; after
As he formed the words, the train stopped at his station, five
minutes' walk from his own house, which stood on the banks of the
Thames, a little way above an ugly suspension bridge. He went out
of the station, still discontented and unhappy, muttering
"If I could but see it! if I could but see it!" but had not
gone many steps toward the river before (says our friend who
tells the story) all that discontent and trouble seemed to slip
off him.
It was a beautiful night of early winter, the air just sharp
enough to be refreshing after the hot room and the stinking
railway carriage. The wind, which had lately turned a point or
two north of west, had blown the sky clear of all cloud save a
light fleck of two which went swiftly down the heavens. There was
a young moon halfway up the sky, and as the home-farer caught
sight of it, tangled in the branches
He came right down to the river-side, and lingered a little,
looking over the low wall to note the moon-lit river, near upon
high water, go swirling and glittering up to Cheswick Eyot; as
for the ugly bridge below, he did not notice it or t hink of it,
except when for a moment (says our friend) it stuck him that he
missed the row of lights down-stream. Then he turned to his house
door and let himself in; and even as he shut the door to,
disappeared all remembrance of that brilliant logic and foresight
which had so illuminated the recent discussion; and of the
discussion itself there remained no trace, save a vague hope,
that was now become a pleasure, for days of peace and rest, and
cleanness and smiling goodwill.
In this mood he tumbled into bed, and fell asleep after his wont,
in two minutes' time; but (contrary to his wont) woke up again not
long after in that curiously wide-awake condition which sometimes
surprises even good sleepers; a condition uder which we feel all our
wits preternaturally sharpened, while all the miserable muddles we have
ever got into, all the disgraces and losses of our lives, will insist
on thrusting themselves forward for the consideration of those sharpened wits.
In this state he lay (says our friend) till he had almost begun
to enjoy it; till the tale of his stupidities amused him, and the
entanglements before him, which he saw so clearly, began to shape
themselves into an amusing story for him.
He heard one o'clock strike then two and then three; after which
he fell asleep again. Our friend
Well, I awoke, and found that I had kicked my bed-clothes; and
no wonder, for it was hot and the sun shining brightly. I jumped
up and washed and hurried on my clothes, but in a hazy and half-awake
condition, as if I had slept for a long, long while, and
could not shake off the weight of slumber. In fact, I rather took
it for granted that I was at home in my own room than saw that it
was so.
When I was dressed, I felt the place so hot that I made haste to
get out of the room and out of the house; and my first feeling
was a delicious relief caused by the fresh air and pleasant
breeze; my second, as I began to gather my wits together, mere
measureless wonder; for it was winter when I went to bed last
night, and now, by witness of the river-side trees, it was
summer, a beautiful bright morning seemingly of early June.
However, there was still the Thames sparkling under the sun, and
I had by no means shaken off the feeling of oppression, and
wherever I might have been should scarce have been quite
conscious of the place; so it was no wonder that I felt rather
puzzled in despite of the familiar face of the Thames. Withal I
felt dizzy and queer; and remembering that people often got a
boat and had a swim in mid-stream, I thought I would do no less.
It seems very early, quoth I to myself, but I daresay I shall
find some one at Biffin's to take me. However, I didn't get as
far as Biffin's, or even turn to my left thitherward, because
just then I began to see that there was a landing-stage right
before me in front of my house; in face, on the place where my
next-door neighbor had rigged one up, although somehow it didn't
look like that either. Down I went on to it, and sure enough
among the empty boats moored to it lay a man on his sculls in a
solid-looking tub of a boat clearly meant for bathers. He nodded
to me, and bade me good-morning as if he expected me, so I jumped
in without any words and he paddled away quietly as I peeled for
my swim. As we went, I looked down in the water, and couldn't
help saying:
"How clear the water is this morning!"
"Is it?" said he; "I didn't notice it. You know the
flood-tide alway s thickens it a bit."
"H'm," said I, "I have seen it pretty muddy even at
half-ebb."
He said nothing in answer, but seemed rather astonished; and as
he now lay just stemming the tide, and I had my clothes off, I
jumped in without more ado. Of course when I had my head above
water again I turned towards the tide, and my eyes naturally
sought for the bridge, and so utterly
As I got in up the steps which he had lowered, and he held out
his hand to help me, we went drifting speedily up towards
Cheswick; but now he caught up the sculls and brought her head
round again, and said;
"A short swim, neighbour; but perhaps you find the water cold this
morning, after your journey. Shall I put you ashore at once, or would
you like to go down to Putney before breakfast?"
He spoke in a way so unlike what I should have expected from a
Hammersmith waterman, that I stared at him, as I answered,
"Please to hold her a little; I want to look about me a bit."
"All right," he said; "It's no less pretty in its way
here than it is off Barn Elms; it's jolly everywhere this time in
the morning. I'm glad you got up early; it's barely five
o'clock yet."
If I was astonished with my sight of the river banks, I was no
less astonished at my waterman, not that I had time to look at
him and see him with my head and eyes clear.
He was a handsome young fellow, with a peculiarly pleasant and
friendly look about his eyes,—an expression which was quite
new to me then, though I soon became familiar with it. For the
rest, he was dark-haired and berry-brown of skin, well-knit and
strong, and obviously used to exercising his
I felt that I must make some conversation; so I pointed to the
Surrey bank, where I noticed some light plank stages running down
the foreshore, with windlasses at the landward end of them, and
said "What are they doing with those things here? If we were
on the Tay, I should have said that they were for drawing the
salmon-nets; but here—"
"Well," said he, smiling, "of course that is what they
I was going to say, "But is this the Thames?" but held my
peace in my wonder, and turned my bewildered eyes eastward to
look at the bridge again, and thence to the shores of the London
river; and surely there was enough to astonish me. For though
there was a bridge across the stream and houses on its banks, how
all this was changed from last night! The soap-works with their
smoke-vomiting chimneys were gone; the engineer's works gone; the
lead-works gone; and no sound of riveting and hammering came down the
west wind from Thorneycroft's. Then the bridge! I had perhaps dreamed
The sculler noted my eager astonished look, and said, as if in
answer to my thoughts:
"Yes, it I found myself saying, almost against my will, "How old is it?"
"O, not very old", he said; "it was built or at least opened,
in 2003. There used to be a rather plain timber bridge before then."
The date shut my mouth as if a key had been turned in a padlock
fixed to my lips; for I saw that something inexplicable had
happened, and that if I said much, I should be mixed up in a game
of cross questions and crooked answers. So I tried to look
unconcerned, and to glance in a matter-of-course way at the banks
of the river, though this is what I saw up to the bridge and a
little beyond; say as far as the site of the soap-works. Both
shores had a line of very pretty houses, low and not large,
standing back a little way from the river; they were mostly built
of red brick and roofed with tiles, and looked, above all,
comfortable, and as if they were, so to say,
"Well, I'm glad that they have not built over Barn Elms."
I blushed for my fatuity as the words slipped out of my mouth,
and my companion looked at me with a half smile which I thought I
understood; so to hide my confusion I said, "Please take me
ashore now; I want to get my breakfast."
He nodded, and brought her head round with a sharp stroke, and in
a trice we were at the landing-stage again. He jumped out and I
followed him; and of course I was not surprised to see him wait,
as if for the inevitable after-piece that follows the doing of a
service to a fellow citizen. So I put my hand in my waistcoat-pocket,
and said, "How much?" though still with the
uncomfortable feeling that perhaps I was offering money to a gentleman.
He looked puzzled, and said, "How much? I don't quite understand
what you are asking about. do you mean the tide? If so, it is close on the
turn now."
I blushed, and said, stammering, "Please don't take it amiss
if I ask you; I mean no offence: but what ought I to pay you? You
see I am a stranger, and don't know your customs—or your
coins."
And therewith I took a handful of money out of my pocket, as one
does in a foreign country. And
He still seemed puzzled, but not at all offended; and he looked
at the coins with some curiosity. I thought, Well after all, he
Therewith my new friend said thoughtfully:
"I think I know what you mean. You think that I have done you a
service; so you feel yourself bound to give me something which I am not
to give to a neighbour, unless he has done something special for me. I
have heard of this kind of thing; but pardon me for saying, that
it seems to us a troublesome and roundabout custom; and we don't
know how to manage it. And you see this ferrying and giving
people casts about the water is my And he laughed loud and merrily, as if the idea of being paid for
his work was a very funny joke. I confess I began to be afraid
that the man was mad, though he looked sane enough; and I was
rather glad to think that I was a good swimmer, since we were so
close to a deep seift stream. However, he went on by no means
like a madman:
"As to your coins, they are curious, but not very old; they
seemto be all of the reign of Victoria; you might give them to
some scantily-furnished museum.
No doubt I looked a little shy of him under the influence of that
doubt as to his sanity. So he broke off short, and said in a kind
voice:
"But I see that I am boring you, and I ask your pardon. For,
not to mince matters, I can tell that you There certainly seemed no flavour in him of Colney Hatch; and
besides I thought I could easily shake him off if it turned out
that he really was mad; so I said:
"It is a very kind offer, but it is difficult for me to accept
it, unless—" I was going to say, Unless you will let me pay
you properly; but fearing to stir up colney Hatch again, I
changed the sentence into, "I fear I shall be taking you away
from your work—or your amusement."
"O," he said, "don't trouble about that, because it will
give me an opportunity of doing a good turn
He added presently: "It is true that I have promised to go
up-stream to some special friends of mine, for the hay-harvest;
but they won't be ready for us for more than a week: and besides,
you might go with me, you know, and see some very nice people,
besides making notes of our ways in Oxfordshire. You could hardly
do better if you want to see the country. "
I felt myself obliged to thank him, whatever might come of it;
and he added eagerly:
"Well, then, that's settled. I will give my friend a call; he
is living in the Guest House like you, and if he isn't up yet, he
ought to be this fine summer morning."
Therewith he took a little silver bugle-horn from his girdle and
blew two or three sharp but agreeable notes on it; and presently
from the house which stood on the site of my old dwelling (of
which more hereafter) another young man came sauntering towards
us. He was not so well-looking or so strongly made as my sculler
friend, being sandy-haired, rather pale, and not stout-built; but
his face was not wanting in that happy and friendly expression
which I had noticed in his friend. As he came up smiling towards
us, I saw with pleasure that I must give up the Colney Hatch
theory as to the waterman, for no two madmen ever behaved as they
did before a sane man. His dress was of the same cut as the first
man's, though somewhat gayer, the
He gave me good-day very civilly, and greeting his friend
joyously, said:
"Well, Dick, what is it this morning? Am I to
have my work, or rather your work? I dreamed last night that we
were off up the river fishing."
"All right, Bob," said my sculler; "you will drop into
my place, and if you find it too much, there is George Brightling
on the look-out for a stroke of work and he lives close handy to
you. But see, here is a stranger who is willing to amuse me to-day
by taking me as his guide about our countryside, and you may
imagine I don't want to lose the opportunity; so you had better
take to the boat at oncel But in any case I shouldn't have kept
you out of it for long since I am due in the hayfields in a few
days. "
The newcomer rubbed his hands with glee, but turning to me, said
in a friendly voice:
"Neighbour, both you and friend Dick are
lucky, and will have a good time to-day, as indeed I shall too.
But you had better both come in with me at once and get something
to ear, lest you should forget your dinner in your amusement. I
suppose you came into the Guest House after I had gone to bed
last night? "
I nodded, not caring to enter into a long explanation which would
have let to nothing, and which in truth by this time I should
have begun to doubt myself. And we all three turned toward the
door of the Guest House.
I lingered a little behind the others to have a stare at this
house, which, as I have told you, stood on the site of my old
dwelling.
It was a longish building with its gable ends turned away from
the road, and long traceried windows coming rather low down set
in the wall that faced us. It was very handsomely built of red
brick with a lead roof; and high up above the windows there ran a
frieze of figure subjects in baked clay, very well executed, and
designed with a force and directness which I had never noticed in
modern work before. The subjects I recognized at once, and indeed
was very particularly familiar with them.
However, all t his I took in in a minute; for we were presently
within doors, and standing in a hall with a floor of marble
mosaic and an open timber roof. There were no windows on the side
opposite to the river, but arches below leading into chambers,
one of which showed a glimpse of a garden beyond, and above them
a long space of wall gaily painted (in fresco, I thought) with
similar subjects to those of the frieze outside; everything about
the place was handsome and generously solid as to material; and
though it was not very large (somewhat smaller than Crosby Hall
perhaps), one felt in it that exhilarating sense of space and
freedom which satisfactory architecture always gives to an
anxious man who is in the habit of using his eyes.
In this pleasant place, which of course I knew to be the hall of
the Guest House, three young women were flitting to and fro. As
they were the first of the
A word or two from Robert the weaver, and they bustled about on
our behoof, and presently came and took us by the hands and led
us to a table in the pleasantest corner of the hall, where our
breakfast was spread for us; and, as we sat down, one of them
hurried out by the chambers aforesaid, and came back again in a
little while with a great branch of roses, very different in size
and quality to what Hammersmith had been wont to grow,but very
like the produce of an old country garden. She hurried back
thence into the buttery, and came
Robert patted her on the head in a friendly manner; and we fell
to on our breakfast, which was simple enough, but most delicately
cooked, and set on the table with much daintiness. The bread was
particularly good, and was of several different kinds, from the
big, rather close, dark-coloured, sweet-tasting farmhouse loaf,
which was most to my liking, to the thin pipe-stems of wheaten
crust, such as I have eaten in Turin.
As I was putting the first mouthfuls into my mouth, my eye caught
a carved and gilded inscription on the panelling, behind what we
should have called the High Table in an Oxford college hall, and
a familiar name in it forced me to read it through. Thus it ran:
It is difficult to tell you how I felt as I read these words, and
I suppose my face showed how much I was moved, for both my
friends looked curiously at
Presently the weaver, who was scarcely so well mannered a man as
the ferryman, said to me rather awkwardly:
"Guest, we don't know what to call you: is there any indiscretion
in asking your name? "
"Well," said I, "I have some doubts about it myself; so
suppose you call me Guest, which is a family name, you know, and
add William to it if you please. "
Dick nodded kindly to me; but a shade of anxiousness passed over
the weaver's face, and he said:
" I hope you don't mind my asking, but would you tell me where
you come from? I am curious about such things for good reasons, literary
reasons. "
Dick was clearly kicking him underneath the table; but he was not
much abashed, and awaited my answer somewhat eagerly. As for me,
I was just going to blurt out `Hammersmith', when I bethought me
what an entanglement of cross purposes that would lead us into;
so I took time to invent a lie with circumstance, guarded be a
little truth, and said:
"You see, I have been such a long time
away from Europe that things seem strange to me now; but I was
born and bred on the edge of Epping Forest; Walthamstow and
Woodford, to wit. "
"A pretty place too," broke in Dick; "a very jolly
place, now that the trees have had time to grow again since the
great clearing of houses in 1955."
Quoth the irrepressible weaver: "Dear neighbour, since you
knew the Forest some time ago, could you tell me what truth
there is in the rumour that in the nineteenth century the trees
were all pollards?
This was catching me on my archaeological natural-history
I started off: "When I was a boy, and for long after, except
for a piece about Queen Elizabeth's Lodge, and for the part about
High Beech, the Forest was almost entirely made up of pollard
hornbeams mixed with holly thickets. But when the Corporation of
London took it over about twenty-five years ago, the topping and
lopping, which was a part of the old commoners' rights, came to
an end, and the trees were let to grow. But I have not seen the
place bnow for many yearsm except once, when we Leaguers were
shocked to see how it was built-over amd altered; and the other
day we heard that the philistines were going to landscape-garden
it. But what you were saying about the building being stopped and
the trees growing is only too good news;—only you know—"
At that point I suddenly remembered Dick's date, and stopped
short rather confused. The eager weaver didn't notice my
confusion, but said hastily, as if he were almost aware of his
breach of good manners, "But I say, how old are you?"
Dick and the pretty girl both burst out laughing, as
"Hold hard, Bob; this questioning of guests won't do. Why, much
learning is spoiling you. You remind me of the radical cobblers in
the silly old novels, who, according to the authors, were prepared
to trample down all good manners in the pursuit of utilitarian knowledge.
The fact is, I begin to think that you have so muddled your head
with mathematics, and with grubbing into those idiotic old books
about political economy (he he!), that you scarcely know how to
behave. Really, it is about time for you to take to some open-air
work, so that you may clear away the cobwebs from your brain."
The weaver only laughed good-humoredly; and the girl went up to
him and patted his cheek and said laughingly, "Poor fellow! he
was born so."
As for me, i was a little puzzled, but I laughed also, partly for
the company's sake, and partly with pleasure at their unanxious
happiness and good temper; and before Robert could make the
excuse to me which he was getting ready, I said:
"But, neighbours" (I had caught up that word), "I don't in the
least mind answering questions, when I can do so: ask me as many
as you please; and as to my age I'm not a fine lady, you know, so
why shouldn't I tell you? I'm hard on fifty-six. "
In spite of the recent lecture on good manners, the weaver could
not help giving a long "whew" of astonishment, and the
others were so amused by his "Tell me, please, what is amiss: you know I want to learn from
you. And please laugh; only tell me."
Well, they "Well, well, he "Well," quoth I, "I have always been told that a woman
is as old as sht looks, so without offence or flattery, i should
say that you were twenty"
She laughed merrily, and said, "I am well served out for
fishing for compliments, since I have to tell you the truth, to
wit, that I am forty-two."
I stared at her, and drew musical laughter from her again; but I
might well stare, for there was not a careful line on her face;
her skin was as smooth as ivory, her cheeks full and round, her
lips as red as the roses she had brought in; her beautiful arms
which she had bared for work, firm and well-knit from shoulder to
wrist. She blushed a little under my gaze, though it was clear
that she had taken me for a man of eighty; so to pass it off I
said:
"Well, you see, the old saw is proved right again, and
I ought not to have let you tempt me into asking you a rude
question."
She laughed again, and said: " Well, lads, old
She waved a hand to usk, and stepped lightly down the hall,
taking (as Scott says) at least part of the sun from our table as
she went.
When she was gone, Dick said, "Now, guest, won't you ask a
question or two of our friend here? It is only fair that you
should have your turn."
"I shall be very glad to answer them," said the weaver.
"If I ask you any questions, sir, " said I, " they will
not be very severel but since I hear that you are a weaver I
should like to ask you something about that craft, as I am—or
was—interested in it. "
"O," said he, "I shall not be of much use to you there,
I'm afraid. I only do the most mechanical kind of weaving, and am
in fact but a poor craftsman, unlike Dick here. Then besides the
weaving, I do a little with machine printing and composing,
though I am little use at the finer kinds of printing; and
moreover machine printing is beginning to die out, along with the
waning of the plague of book-making, so i have had to turn to
other things that I have a taste for, and have taken to
mathematics; and also I am writing a sort of antiquarian book
about the peaceable and private history, so to say, of the end of
the nineteenth century,—more for the sake of giving a picture
of the country befor the fighting began than for anything else.
That was why I asked you those questions about Epping Forest. You
have rather puzzled me, I confess, though yoour information was
so interesting. But later on,
"Come now," said Dick, "Am I likely to? Am I not the
most tolerant man in the world? Am I not quite contented so long
as you don't make me learn mathematics or go into your new
science of aesthetics, and let me do a little practical
aesthetics with my gold and steel, and the blowpipe and the nice
little hammer? But, hillo! here come another questioner for you,
my poor guest. I say, Bob, you must help me defend him now. "
"Here, Boffin," he cried out, after a pause; "here we
are, if you must have it! "
I looked over my shoulder, and saw something flash and gleam in
the sunlight that lay across the hall; so I turned round, and at
my ease saw a splendid figure slowly sauntering over the
pavement; a man whose surcoat was embroidered most copiously as
well as elegantly, so that the sun flashed back from him as if he
had been clad in golden armour. The man himself was tall, dark-haired,
and exceedingly handsome, and though his face was less
kindly in expression than that of the others, he moved with that
somewhat haughty mien which great beautyk is apt to give to both
men and women. He came and saat down at our table with a smiling
face, stretching out his long legs and hanging his arm over the
chair in the slowly graceful way which
" I see clearly that you are
the guest, of whom Annie has just told me, who have come from
some distant country that does not know of us, or our ways of
life. So I daresay you would not mind answering me a few
question; for you see—"
Here Dick broke in: "No, please, Boffin! let it alone for the
present. Of course you want the guest to be happy and
comfortable; and how can that be if he has to trouble himself
with answering all sorts of questions while he is still confused
with the new customs and people about him? No, no: I am going to
take him where he can ask questions himself, and have them
answered; that is, to my great-granfather in Bloomsbury: and I am
sure you can't have anything to say against that. So instead of
bothering, you had much better go out to James Allen's and get a
carriage for me, as I shall drive him up myself; and please tell
Jim to let me have the old grey, for I can drive a wherry much
better than a carriage. Jump up old fellow, and don't be
disappointed; our guest will keep himself for you and your
stories."
I stared at Dick; for I wondered at his speaking to such a
dignified-looking personage so familiarly, not to say curtly; for
I thought that this Mr. Boffin, in spite of his well-known name
out of dickens, must be at the least a senator of these strange
people. However, he got up and said, "All rightr, old oar-wearer,
whatever you like; this is not one of my busy days; and
though" (with a condescending bow to me) "my plesure of a
talk with this learned guest is put off, I admit that he ought to
see your worthy kinsman as soon as possible. Besides, perhaps he
And therewith he turned and swung himself out of the hall.
When he was well gone, I said: "Is it wrong to ask what Mr.
Boffin is? whose name, by the way reminds me of many pleasant
hours passed in reading Dickens."
Dick laughed. "Yes, yes," said he: "as it does us, I see
you take the allusion. Of course jos real name is not boffin,
but Henry Johnson; we only call him Boffin as a joke, partly
because he is a dustman, and partly because he will dress so
showily, and get as much gold on him as a baron of the Middle
Ages. As why should he not if he likes? only we are his special
friends, you know, so of course we jest with him."
I held my tongue for some time after that; but Dick went on:
"He is a capital fellow, and you can't help liking him; but he
has a weakness; he will spend his time in writing reactionary
novels, and is very proud of getting the local colour right, as
he calls it; and as he thinks you come from some forgotten corner
of the earth, where people are unhappy, and consequently
interesting to a story-teller, he thinks he might get some
information out of you. O, he will be quite straightforward with
you, for that matter. Only for your own comfort beware of him!"
"Well, Dick" said the weaver, doggedly, "I think his
novels are very good."
"Of course you do," said Dick; "birds of a feather flock
together; mathematics and antiquarian novels stand on much the
same footing. But here he comes again."
And in effect the Golden Dustman hailed us from
We turned away from the river at once, and were soon in the main
road that runs through Hammersmith. But I should have had no
guess as to where I was, if I had not started from the waterside;
for King Street was gone, and the highway ran through wide sunny
meadows and garden-like tillage. The Creek, which we crossed at
once, had been rescued from its culvert, and as we went over its
pretty bridge we saw its waters, yet swollen by the tide, covered
with gay boats of different sizes. There were houses about, some
on the road, some amongst the fields with pleasant lanes leading
down to them, and each surrounded by a teeming garden. They were
all pretty in design, and as solid as might be, but countrified in
appearance, like yeomen's dwellings; some of them of red brick
like those by the river, but more of timber and plaster, which
were by
I thought I knew the Broadway by the lie of the roads that still
met there. On the north side of the road was a range of buildings
and courts low, but very handsomely built and ornamented, and in
that way forming a great contrast to the unpretentiousness of the
houses round about; while above this lower building rose the
steep lead-covered roof and the buttresses and higher part of the
wall of a great hall, of a splendid and exuberant style of
architecture, of which one can say little more than that it
seemed to me to embrace the best qualities of the Gothic of
northern Europe with those of the Saracenic and Byzantine, though
there was no copying of any one of these styles. On the other,
the south side, of the road was an octagonal building with a high
roof, not unlike the Baptistry at Florence in outline, except
that it was surrounded by a lean-to that clearly made an arcade
or cloisters to it; it also was most delicately ornamented.
This whole mass of architecture which we had come upon so
suddenly from amidst the pleasant fields was not only exquisitely
beautiful in itself,
I said, "I need not ask if this is a marker, for I see clearly
that it is; but what market is it that it is so splendid? And
what is the glorious hall there, and what is the building on the
south side?"
"O," said he, "it is just our Hammersmith market; and I
am glad you like it so much, for we are really proud of it. Of
course the hall inside is our winter Mote-House; for in summer we
mostly meet in the fields down by the river opposite Barn Elms.
The building on our right hand is our theatre: I hope you like
it."
"I should be a fool if I didn't," said I.
He blushed a little as he said: "I am glad of that, too,
because I had a hand in it; I made the great doors, which are of
damascened bronze. We will look at them later in the day,
perhaps: but we ought to be getting on now. As to the market,
this is not one of our busy days; so we shall do better with it
another time, because you will see more people."
I thanked him, and said: "Are these the regular country
people? What very pretty girls there are amongst them."
As I spoke, my eye caught the face of a beautiful woman, tall,
dark-haired, and white-skinned, dressed in a pretty light-green
dress in honour of the season and the hot day, who smiled kindly
on me,
"I ask because I do not see any of the country-looking people I
should have expected to see at a market—I mean selling things there."
"I don't understand," said he, "what kind of people you
would expect to see; nor quite what you mean by `country' people.
These are the neighbours and that like they run in the Thames
valley. There are parts of these islands which are rougher and
rainier than we are here, and there people are rougher in their
dress; and they themselves are tougher and more hard-bitten than
we are to look at. But some people like their looks better than
ours; they say they have more character in them—that's the
word. Well, it's a matter of taste.—anyhow, the cross between
us and them generally turns out well," added he, thoughtfully.
I heard him, thogh my eyes were turned away from him, for that
pretty girl was just disappearing through the gate with her big
basket of early peas, and I felt that disappointed kind of
feeling which overtakes one when one has seen an interesting or
lovely face in the streets which one is never likely to see
again; and I was silent a little. At last I said: "What I
mean is, that I haven't seen any poor people about—not one."
He knit his brows, looked puzzled, and said: "No, naturally;
if anybody is poorly, he is likely to be within doors, or at best
crawling about in the garden; but I don't know of any one sick at
present. Why should you expect to see poorly people on the road?"
"No, no," I said; "I don't mean sick people. I mean poor
people, you know; rough people."
"No," said he, smiling merrily, "I really do not
Past the Broadway there were fewer houses on either side. We
presently crossed a pretty little brook that ran across a piece
of land dotted over with trees, and awhile after came to another
market and town-hall, as we should call it. Although there was
nothing familiar to me in its surroundings, I knew pretty well
where we were and was not surprised when my guide said briefly,
"Kensington Market."
Just after this we came into a short street of houses; or rather,
one long house on either side of the way, built of timber and
plaster, and with a pretty arcade over the footway before it.
Quoth Dick: "This is Kensington proper. People are apt to
gather here rather thick, for they like the romance of the wood;
and naturalists haunt it, too; for it is a wild spot even here,
what there is of it; for it does not go far to the south: it goes
from here northward and west right over Paddington and a little
way down Notting Hill: thence it runs north-east to Primrose
Hill, and so on; rather a narrow strip of it gets through
Kingsland to Stoke-Newington and Clapton, where it spreads out
along the heights above the Lea marshes; on the other side of
which, as you know, is Epping Forest holding out a hand to it.
This part we are just coming to is called
I rather longed to say, "Well, I know;" but there were so
many things about me which I did The road plunged at once into a beautiful wood spreading out on
either side, but obviously much further on the north side, where
even the oaks and sweet chestnuts were of a good growth; while
the quicker-growing etrees (amongst which I thought the planes
and sycamores too numerous) were very big and fine-grown.
It was exceedingly pleasant in the dappled shadow, for the day
was growing as hot as need be, and the coolness and shade soothed
my excited mind into a condition of dreamy pleasure, so that I
felt as if I should like to go on for ever through that balmy
freshness. My companion seemed to share in my feelings, and let
the horse go slower and slower as he sat inhaling the green
forest scents, chief amongst which was the smell of the trodden
bracken near the way-side.
Romantic as this Kensington wood was, however, it was not lonely.
We came on many groups both coming and going, or wandering in the
edges of the wood. Amongst these were many children from six or
eight years old up to sixteen or seventeend. They seemed to me
to be especially fine specimens of their race, and were clearly
enjoying themselves to the utmost; some of them were hanging
about little tents pitched on the greensward, and by some of
these fires were burning, with pots hanging over them gipsy
fashion. Dick explained to me that there were scattered houses in
the forest, and indeed we caught a glimpse of one or two. He said they
"They must be pretty well stocked with children," said I,
pointing to the many youngsters about the way.
"O," said he, "these children do not all come from the
near houses, the woodland houses, but from the countryside
generally. They often make up parties, and come to play in the
woods for weeks together in summer-time, living in tents, as you
see. We rather encourage them to it; they learn to do things for
themselves, and get to notice the wild creatures; and, you see,
the less they stew inside houses the better for them. Indeed, I
must tell you that many grown people will go rto live in the
forests through the summer; though they for the most part go to
the bigger ones, like Windsor, or the Forest of the Dean, or the
northern wastes. Apart from the other pleasures of it it gives
them a little rough work, which I am sorry to say is getting
somewhat scarce for the last fifty years."
He broke off, and then said, "I tell you all this because I
see that if I talk I must be answering questions, which you are
thinking, even if you are not speaking them out; but my kinsman
will tell you more about it."
I saw that I was likely to get out of my depth again, and so
merely for the sake of tiding over an awkwardness and to say
something, I said: "Well, the youngsters here will be all the
fresher for school when the summer gets over and they have to go
back again."
"School? " he said; "yes, what do you mean by that word?
I don't see how it can have any thing to do with children. We
talk, indeed, of a
Hang it! thought I, I can't open my mouth without digging up some
new complexity. I wouldn't try to set my friend right in his
etymology; and I thought I had best say nothing about the boy-farms
which I had been used to call schools, as I saw pretty
clearly that they had disappeared; and so I said after a little
fumbling, "I was using the word in the sense of a system of
education."
"Education?" said he, meditatively, "I know enough Latin
to know that the word must come from You may imagine how my new friends fell in my esteem when I heard
this frank avowal; and I said, rather contemptuously, "Well,
education means a system of teaching young people."
"Why not old people also?" said he with a twinkle in his
eye. "But," he went on, "I can assure you our children
learn, whether they go through a `system of teaching' or not.
Why, you will not find one of these children about here, boy or
girl, who cannot swim, and every one of them has been used to
tumbling about the little forest ponies—there's one of them
now! They all of them know how to cook; the bigger lads can mow;
many can thatch and do odd jobs at carpentering; or they know how
to keep shop. I can tell you they know plenty of things.
"Yes, but their mental education, the teaching of their
minds," said I, kindly translating my phrase.
"Guest," said he, "perhaps you have not learned
"Well," said I, "about the children; when they know how
to read and write, don't they learn something else—languages,
for instance?"
"Of course, " he said; " sometimes even before they can
read, they can talk French, which is the nearest language talked
on the other side of the water; and they soon get to know German
also, which is talked by a huge number of communes and colleges
on the mainland. These are the principal languages we speak in
these islands, along with English or Welsh, or Irisih, which is
another form of Welsh; ;and children pick them up very quickly,
because their elders all know them; and besides
"And the older languages?" said I.
"O yes," said he, "they mostly learn Latin and Greek
along with the modern ones, when they do anything more than
merely pick up the latter."
"And history?" said I; "how do you teach history?"
"Well," said he, "when a person can read, of course he
reads what he likes to; and he can easily get some one to tell
him what are the best books to read on such or such a subject, or
to explain what he doesn't understand in the books when he is
reading them."
"Well," said I, "what else do they learn? I suppose
they don't all learn history?"
"No, no," said he; "some don't care about it; in fact, I
don't think many do. I have heard my great-grandfather say that
it is mostly in periods of turmoil and strife and confusion that
people care so much about history; ;and you know," said my
friend, with an amiable smile, "we are not like that now No;
many people study facts about the make of things and the matters
of cause and effect, so that knowledge increases on us, if that
be good; and some, as you heardabout friend Bob yonder, will
spend time over mathematics. 'Tis no use forcing people's tastes."
Said I: "But you don't mean that children learn all these
things?"
Said he: "That depends on what you mean by children; ;and also
you must remember how much they differ. As a rule, they don't do
much reading, except for a few story-books, till they are about
fifteen years old; we don't encourage early bookishness;
What could I say? I sat and held my peace, for fear of fresh
entanglements. Besides, I was using my eyes with all my might,
wondering as the old horse jogged on, when I should come into
London proper, and what it would be like now.
But my companion couldn't let his subject quite drop, and went on
meditatively:
"After all, I don't know that it does them much
harm, even if they do grow up book-students. Such people as that,
'tis a great pleasure seeing them so happy over work which is not
much sought for. And besides, these students are generally such
pleasant people; so kind and sweet tempered; so humble, and at
the same time so anxious to teach everybody all that they know.
Really, I like those that I have met prodigiously."
This seemed to me such "Yes," said Dick, "Westminster Abbey—what there is
left of it."
"Why, what have you done with it?" quoth I in terror.
"What have We went on a little further, and I looked to the right again, and
said, in a rather doubtful tone of voice, "why there are the
Houses of Parliament! Do you still use them?"
He burst out laughing, and was some time before he could control
himself; then he clapped me on the back and said:
"I take you, neighbour; you may well wonder at our keeping them
standing, and I know something about that, and my old kinsman has given me
books to read about the strange game that they played there. Use
them! Well, yes, they are used for a sort of subsidiary market,
and a storage place for manure, and they are handy for that,
being on the water-side. I believe it was intended to pull them
down quite at the beginning of our days; but there was, I am told
a queer antiquarian society which had done some service in past
times, and which straightway set up its pipe against their
destruction, as it has done with many other buildings, which most
people look on as worthless, and public nuisances; and it was so
energetic, and had such good reasons to give, that it generally
gained its point; and I must say that when all is said I am glad
of it: because you know at the worst these silly old buildings
serve as a kind of foil to the beautiful ones which we build now.
You will see several
As He spoke, we came suddenly out of the woodland into a short
street of handsomely built houses, which my companion named to me
at once as Piccadilly: the lower part of these houses I should
have called shopos, if it had not been that, as far as I could
see, the people were ignorant of the arts of buying and selling.
Wares were displayed in their finely designed fronts, as if to
tempt people in, and people stood and looked at them, or went in
and came out with parcels under
Said Dick: "Here, you see, is another market on a different
plan from most others: the upper stories of these houses are used
for guest-houses; for people from all over the country are apt to
drift up hither from time to time, as folks are very thick upon
the ground, which you will see evidence of presently, and there
are people who are fond of crowds, though I can't say that I am. "
I couldn't help smiling to see how long a tradition sould last.
Here was the ghost of London still asserting itself as a
centre,—an intellectual centre, for aught I knew. However, I
said nothing, except that I asked him to drive very slowly as the
things in the booth looked exceedingly pretty.
"Yes," said he, "this is a very good market for pretty
things, and is mostly kept for the handsomer goods, as the
Houses-of Parliament market, where they set out cabbages and
turnips and such like things, along with beer and the rougher
kind of wine, is so near."
Then he looked at me curiously, and said,"Perhaps you would
like to do a little shopping, as 'tis called."
I looked at what I could see of my rough blue duds, which I had
plenty of opportunity of contrasting with the gay attire of the
citizens we had come across; and I thought that if, as seemed
likely, I should presently be shown about as a curiosity for the
amusement of this most unbusinesslike people,
"Hillo, Guest! what's the matter now? is it a wasp?"
"No," said I, "but I've left it behind."
"Well," said he,"whatever you have left behind, you can
get into this market again, so don't trouble yourself about it."
I had come to my senses by this time, and remembering the
astounding customs of this country, had no mind for another
lecture on social economy and the Edwardian coinage; so I said
only:
"My clothes— Couldn't I? You see—What do you think
could be done about them?"
He didn't seem in the least inclined to laugh, but said quite
gravely:
"O don't get new clothes yet. You see my great-grandfather
is an antiquarian, and he will want to see you just
as you are. And, you know, I mustn't preach to you but surely it
wouldn't be right for you to take away people's pleasure of
studying your attire, by just going and making yourself like
everybody else. "You feel that, don't you?" said he,
earnestly.
I did "Well," said he, pleasantly, "you may as well see
Said I: "Could I get some tobacco and a pipe?"
"Of course," said he; "what was I thinking of, not asking you
before? Well, Bob is always telling me that we non-smokers are a
selfish lot, and I'm afraid he is right. But come along; here is
a place just handy."
Therewith he drew rein and jumped down, and I followed. A very
handsome woman, splendidly clad in figured silk, was slowly
passing by, looking into the windows as she went. To her quoth
Dick: "Maiden, would you kindly hold our horse while we go in
for a little while?" She nodded to us with a kind smile, and
fell to patting the horse with her pretty hand.
"What a beautiful creature!" said I to Dick as we entered.
"What, old Greylocks?" said he, with a sly grin.
"No, no," said I; "Goldylocks,—the lady."
"Well, so she is," said he. "Tis a good job there are so
many of them that every Jack may have his Jill; else I fear that we should get
fighting for them. Indeed," sid he, becoming very grave,
"I don't say that it does not happen even now, sometimes. For
you know love is not a very reasonable thing, and perversity and
self-will are commoner than some of our moralists think." He
added, in a still more sombre tone: "Yes, only a month ago
there was a mishap down by us, that in the end cost the lives of
two men and a woman, and, as it were, put out the sunlight for us
for a while. Don't ask me about it just now; I may tell you about
it later on."
By this time we were within the shop or booth, which had a
counter, and shelves on the walls, all very neat, though without
any pretence of showiness,
"Good morning, little neighbours," said Dick. "My
friend here wants tobacco and a pipe; can you help him?-"
"O yes, certainly," said the girl with a sort of demure
alertness which was somewhat amusing. The boy looked up, and fell
to staring at my outlandish attire, but presently reddened and
turned his head, as if he knew that he was not behaving prettily.
"Dear neighbour," said the girl, with the most solemn
countenance of child playing at keeping shop, "what tobacco is
it that you would like?"
"Latakia," quoth I, feeling as if I were assisting at a child's
game, and wondering whether I should get anything but make-believe.
But the girl took a dainty little basket from a shelf beside her,
went to a jar, and took out a lot of tobacco and put the filled
basket down on the counter before me, where I could both smell
and see that it was excellent Latakia.
"But you haven't weighed it," said I, "and—and how
much of it am I to take?"
"Why," she said, "I advise
you to cram your bag, because you may be going where you can't
get Latakia, Where is your bag?"
I fumbled about, and at last pulled out my pieceof cotton print
which does duty with me for a tobacco pouch. But the girl looked
at it with some disdain, and said:
"Dear neighbour, I can give you something much better than that
cotton rag." And she tripped up
Therewith she fell to cramming it with the tobacco, and laid it
down by me and said, "Now for the pipe: that also you must
let me choose for you; there are three pretty ones just come in."
She disappeared again, and came back with a big-bowled pipe in
her hand, carved out of some hard wood very elaborately and
mounted in gold sprinkled with little gems. It was, in short, as
pretty and gay a toy as I had ever seen; something like the best
kind of Japanese work, but better.
"Dear me!" said I, when I set my eyes on it, "this is
altogether too grand for me, or for anybody but the Emperor of
the World. Besides, I shall lose it: I always lose my pipes."
The child seemed rather dashed, and said, "Don't you like it,
neighbour?"
"O yes," I said, "of course I like
it." "Well, then take it," said she, "and don't
trouble about losing it. What will it matter if you do? Somebody
is sure to find it, and he will use it, and you can get another."
I took it out of her hand to look at it, and while I did so,
forgot my caution, and said, "But however am I to pay for such
a thing as this?"
Dick laid his hand on my shoulder as I spoke, and turning I met
his eyes with a comical expression in them, which warned me
against another exhibition of extinct commercial morality; so I
reddened and held my tongue, while the girl simply looked at me
"Thank you so very much," I said at last, effusively, as I
put the pipe in my pocket, not without a qualm of doubt as to
whether I shouldn't find myself before a magistrate presently.
"O, you are so very welcome," said the little lass, with an
affectation of grown-up manners at their best which was very
quaint. "It is such a pleasure to serve dear old gentlemen
like you; specially when one can see at once that you have come
from far over sea."
"Yes, my dear," quoth I, "I have been a great
traveller."
As I told this lie from pure politeness, in came the lad again,
with a tray in his hands, on which I saw a long flask and two
beautiful glasses. "Neighbours," said the girl (who did all
the talking, her brother being very shy, clearly), "please to
drink a glass to us before you go since we do not have guests
like this every day."
Therewith the boy put the tray on the counter and solemnly poured
out a straw-coloured wint into the long bowls. Nothing loth, I
drank, for I was thirsty with the hot day; and thinks I, I am yet
in the world, and the grapes of the Rhine have not yet lost their
flavour; for if ever I drank good Steinberg, I drank it that
morning; and I made a mental note to ask Dick how they managed to
make fine wine when there were no longer labourers compelled ato
drink roet-gut instead of the fine wine which they themselves
made.
"Don't you drink a glass to us, dear little neighbours?"
said I.
"I don't drink wine," said the lass; "I like
lemonade better; but I wish your health!"
"And I like ginger-beer better," said the little lad.
Well, well, thought I, neither have children's tastes changed
much. And therewith we gave them good day and went out of the
booth.
To my disappointment, like a change in a dream, a tall old man
was holding our horse instead of the beautiful woman. He
explained to us that the maiden could not wais, and that he had
taken her place; and he winked at us and laughed when he saw how
our faces fell so that we had nothing for it but to laugh also.
"Where are you going?" said he to Dick.
"To Bloomsbury," said Dick.
"If you two don't want to be alone, I'll come with you,"
said the old man.
"All right," said Dick, "tell me when you want to get down
and I'll stop for you. Let's get on."
So we got under way again; and I asked if children generally
waited on people in the markets. "Often enough," said he,
"when it isn't a matter of dealing with heavy weights, but by
no means always. The children like to amuse themselves with it,
and it is good for them, because they handle a lot of diverse
wares and get to learn about them, how they are made, and where
they come from, and so on. Besides, it is such very easy work
that anybody can do it. It is saiid that in the early days of our
epoch there were a good many people who were hereditarily
afflicted with a disease called idleness, because they were the
direct descendants of those who in the bad times used to force
other people to work for them—the people, you know, who are
called slave-holders or employers of labour in the history books.
Well, these Idleness-stricken people used to serve booths
"Yes," said I, pondering much. But the old man broke
in:
"Yes, all that is true, neighbour; and I have seen some of
those women grown old. But my father used to know some of them
when they were young; and he said that they were as little like
young women as might be: they had hands like bunches of skewers,
and wretched little arms like sticks; and waists like hour-glasses,
and thin lips and peaked noses and pale cheeks; and they
were always pretending to be offended at anything you said or did
to them. No wonder they bore ugly children, for no one except men
like them could be in love with them—poor things!"
He stopped, and seemed to be musing on his past life, and then
said:
"And do you know, neighbours, that once on a time people
were still anxious about that diseaseof Idleness: at one time we
gave ourselves a great deal of trouble in trying to cure people
of it. Have you not read any of the medical books on the subject?"
"No," said I; for the old man was speaking to me.
"Well," said he, "it was thought at the time that it was
the survival of the old mediaeval disease of leprosy: it seems it
was very catching for many of the people afflicted by it were
much secluded, and
All this seemed very interesting to me, and I should like to have
made the old man talk more. But Dick got rather restive under so
much ancient history: besides, I suspect he wanted to keep me as
fresh as he could for his great-grandfather. So he burst out
laughing at last, and said: "Excuse me, neighbours, but I
can't help it. Fancy people not liking to work!—it's too
rediculous. Why, even you like to work, old
fellow—sometimes," said he, affectionately patting the old
horse with the whip. "What a queer disease! it may well be
called Mulleygrubs!"
And he laughed out again most boisterously, rather too much so, I
thought, for his usual good manners; and I laughed with him for
company's sake, but from the teeth outward only; for And now again I was busy looking about me, for we were quite
clear of Piccadilly Marketl, and were in a region of elegantly-built
much ornamented houses, which I should have called villas
if they had been ugly and pretentious, which was very far from
being the case. Each house stood in a garden
We came presently into a large open space, sloping somewhat
toward the south, the sunny site of which had been taken
advantage of for planting an orchard, mainly, as I could see, of
apricot trees, in the midst of which was a pretty gay little
structure of wood, painted and gilded that looked like a
refreshment-stall. From the southern side of the said orchard ran
a long road chequered over with the shadow of tall old pear
trees, at the end of which showed the high tower of the
Parliament House, or Dung Market.
A strange sensation came over me; I shut my eyes to keep out the
sight of the sun glittering on this fair abode of gardens, and
for a moment there passed before them a phantasmagoria of another
day. A great space surrounded by tall ugly houses, with an ugly
church at the corner and a nondescript ugly cupolaed building at
my back; the roadway thronged with a sweltering and excited
crowd, dominated by omnibuses crowded with spectators. In the
midst a paved be-fountained square, populated only by a few men
dressed in blue and a good many singularly ugly bronze images
(one on top of a tall column). The said square guarded up to the
I opened my eyes to the sunlight again and looked round me, and
cried out among the whispering trees and odorous blossoms,
"Trafalgar Square!"
"Yes," said Dick, who had drawn rein again, "so it is I
don't wonder at your finding the name ridiculous: but after all,
it was nobody's business to alter it, since the name of a dead
folly doesn't bite. Yet sometimes I think we might have given it
a name which would have commemorated the great battle which was
fought on the spot itself in 1952,— "Which they generally do, or at least did," said the old
man. "For instance what can you make of this, neighbours? I
have read a muddled account in a book—O a stupid
book!—called James' Social Democratic History, of a fight
which took place here in or about the year 1887 (I am bad at
dates). Some people, says this story, were going to hold a ward-mote
here, or some such thing, and the Government of London, or
the Council, or the Commission, or what not other barbarous half-hatched
body of fools, fell upon these citizens (as they were
then called) with the armed hand. That seems too ridiculous
to be true; but according to this version of the story, nothing
much came of it which certainly "Well," quoth I, "but after all your Me. James is right
so far, and it "And they put up with that?" said Dick, with
Said I, reddening: "We The old man looked at me keenly, and said: "You seem to know a
great deal about it, neighbour! And is it really true that
nothing came of it?"
"This came of it," said I, "that a good many people were
sent to prison because of it."
"What, of the bludgeoners?" said the old man. "Poor
devils!"
"No, no," said I, "of the bludgeoned."
Said the old man rather severely: "Friend, I expect that you
have been reading some rotten collection of lies, and have been
taken in by it too easily."
"I assure you," said I, "what I have been saying is
true."
"Well, well, I am sure you think so, neighbour," said the
old man,"but I don't see why you should be so cocksure."
As I couldn't explain why, I held my tongue. Meanwhile Dick, who
had been sitting with knit brows, cogitating, spoke at last, and
said gently and rather sadly:
"How strange to think that there
could have been men like ourselves, and living in this beautiful
and happy country, who I suppose had feelings and affections like
ourselves, who could yet do such dreadful things."
"Yes," said I, in a didactic tone; "yetafter all, even
those days were a great improvement on the days that had gone
before them. Have you not read of the Medieval period, and the
ferocity of its criminal laws; and how in those days men fairly
seemed to have enjoyed tormenting their fellow-men?—nay, for
"Yes," said Dick,"there are good books on the period
also, some of which I have read. But as to the great improvement
of the nineteenth century, I don't see it. After all, the
Medieval folk acted after their conscience, as your remark shows
about their God (which is true) shows, and they were ready to
bear what they inflicted on others; whereas the nineteenth
century ones were hypocrites, and pretended to be humane, and yet
went on tormenting those whom they dared to treat so by shutting
them up in prison, for no reason at all, except that they were
what they themselves, the prison-masters, had forced them to be.
O, it's horrible to think of!"
"But perhaps," said I, "they did not know what the
prisons were like."
Dick seemed roused, and even angry. "More shame for them,"
said he, "when you and i know it all these years afterwards.
Look you, neighbor, they couldn't fail to know what a disgrace
prison is to the Commonwealth at the best, and that their prisons
were a good step on towards being at the worst."
Quoth I: "But have you no prisons at all now?"
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt that I had made a mistake,
for Dick flushed red and frowned, and the old man looked
surprised and pained; and presently Dick said angrily, yet as if
restraining himself somewhat:
"Man alive! how can you ask such
a question? Have I not told you that we know what a prison means
by the undoubted evidence of really trust-worthy books, helped
out by our own imaginations? And haven't you specially called me
to notice that the people about the roads and streets look happy?
and how could they look happy if they knew that
He stopped, and began to cool down, and said in a kind voice:
"But forgive me! I needn't be so hot about it, since there are
In a way he had; but he was so generous in his heat, that I liked
him the better for it, and I said: "No, really 'tis all my fault
for being so stupid. Let me change the subject, and ask you
what the stately building is on our left just showing at the end
of that grove of plane trees?"
"Ah," he said, "that is an old building built before the
middle of the twentieth century, and as you see, in a iiqueer
fantastic style not over beautiful; but there are some fine
things inside it, too, mostly pictures are kept as curiosities
permanently it is called a National Gallery, perhaps after this
one. of course there are a good many of them up and down the
country."
I didn't try to enlighten him, feeling the task too heavy, but I
pulled out my magnificent pipe and fell a-smoking, and the old
horse jogged on again. As we went, I said:
"This pipe is a very elaborate toy, and you seem,
It struck me as I spoke that this was rather ungrateful of me,
after having received such a fine present; but Dick didn't seem
to notice my bad manners, but said:
"Well, I don't know; it He mused a little, and seemed somewhat perturbed; but presently
his face cleared, and he said: "After all, you must admit that
the pipe is a very pretty thing, with the little people under
the trees all cut so clean and sweet;—too elaborate for a
pipe, perhaps, but—"well, it is very pretty."
"Too valuable for its use, perhaps," said I.
"What's that?"said he; "I don't understand."
I was just going on in a helpless way to try to make him
understand, when we came by the gates of a big rambling building,
in which work of some sort seemed going on. "What building is
that?" said I, eagerly; for it was a pleasure to see
somethiing a little like what I was used to: "it seems to be a
factory."
"Yes, he said," "I think I know what you mean, and
that's what it is; but we don't call them factories now, but
Banded-workshops; that is, places where people collect who want
to work together."
"I suppose,"said I, "power of some sort is used there?"
"No, no,"said he. "Why should people collect together to
use power, when they can have it at the places where they live or
hard by, any two or three of them, or any one, for the matter of
that? No; folk collect in these Banded-workahops to do handwork
in which working together is necessary or convenient; such work
is often very pleasant. In therem for instance they make pottery
and glass,—there, you can see the tops of the furnces. Well of
course it's handy to have fair-sized ovens and kilns and glass-pots,
and a good lot of things to use them for: though of course
there are a good many such places, as it would be ridiculous if a
man had a liking for pot-making or glass-blowing that he should
have to live in one place or be obliged to forego the work he
liked."
"I see no smoke coming from the furnaces," said I.
"Smoke?"said Dick; "why should you see smoke?"
I held my tongue, and he went on: "It's a nice place inside,
though as plain as you see outside. As to the crafts, throwing
clay must be jolly work: the glass-blowing is rather a sweltering
job; but some folk like it very much indeed; and I don't much
wonder: there us such a sense" of power, when you have got
deft in it, in dealing with the hot metal. It makes a lot of
pleasant work," said he, smiling, — "for however"
much care you take of such goods, break they will, one day or
another, so there is always plenty to do.
I held my tongue and pondered.
We came just here on a gang of men road-mending, which delayed us
a little; but I was not sorry for it; for all I had seen hitherto
seemed a mere part
"They are in luck today:
it's right down good sport trying how much pick-work one can get
into an hour; and I can see those neighbours know their business
well. It is not a mere matter of strength getting on quickly with
such work; is it, guest?"
"I should think not,"said I, "but to tell you the truth,
I have never tried my hand at it."
"Really?" said he gravely, "that seems a pity; it is
good work for hardening the muscles, and I like it; though I
admit it is pleasanter the second week than the first. Not that I
am a good hand at it; the fellows used to chaff me at one job
where I was working, I remember, and sing out to me, `Well rowed,
stroke!' `Put your back into it, bow!'"
"Not much of a joke," quoth I.
"Well," said dick, "everything seems like a joke when we
have a pleasant spell of work on, and good fellows merry about
us; we feel so happy, you know." Again I pondered silently.
We now turned into a pleasant lane where the branches of great
plane trees nearly met overhead, but behind them lay low houses
standing rather close together.
"This is Long Acre," quoth Dick; "so there must once
have been a cornfield here. How curious it is that places change
so, and yet keep their old names! Just look how thick the houses
stand! and they are still going on building, look you!"
"Yes," said the old man, "but I think the cornfields
must have been built over before the middle
And he jumped down and strode away vigorously like a young man.
"How old should you say that neighbour will be?" said I to
Dick as we lost sight of him; for I saw that he was old, and yet
he looked dry and sturdy like a piece of a piece of old oak; a
type of old man I was not used to seeing.
"O, about ninety, I should say," said Dick.
"How long-lived your people must be!" said I.
"Yes," said Dick "certainly we have beaten the
three-score-and-ten of the old Jewish proverb-book. But then you see
that was written of Syria, a hot dry country, where people live
faster than in our temperate climate. However, I don't think it
matters much, so long as a man is healthy and happy while he
I nodded a yes; and therewith we turned to the left, and went
down a gentle slope through some beautiful rose-gardens, laid out
on what I took to be the site of Endell Street. We passed on, and
Dick drew rein an instant as we came across a long straightish
road with houses scantily scattered up and down it. He waved his
hand right and left, and said, "Holborn that side, Oxford Road
that. this was once a very important part of the crowded city
outside the ancient walls of the Roman and Mediaeval burg: many
of the feudal nobles of the Middle Ages, we are told, had big
houses on either side
He drove on again, while I smiled faintly to think how the
nineteenth century, of which such big words have been said,
counted for nothing in the memory of this man, who read
Shakespeare and had not forgotten the Middle Ages.
We crossed the road into a short narrow lane between the gardens,
and came out again into a wide road, on one side of which was a
great and long building, turning its gables away from the
highway, which I saw at once was another public group. Opposite
to it was a wide space of greenery, without any wall or fence of
any kind. I looked through the trees and saw beyond them a
pillared portico quite familiar to me—no less old a friend, in
fact, than the British Museum. It rather took my breath away,
amidst all the strange things I had seen; but I held my tongue
and let Dick speak. Said he:
"Yonder is the British Museum,
where my great-greandfather mostly lives; so I won't say much
about it. The building on the left is the Museum Markete, and I
think we had better turn in there for a minute or two; for
Greylocks will be wanting his rest and his oats; and I suppose
you will stay with my kinsman the greater part of the day; and to
say the truth, there may be some one there whom I particularly
want to see, and perhaps have a long talk with."
He blushed and sighed, not altogether with pleasure, I thought;
so of course I said nothing, and he turned the horse under an
archway which
Dick said to me apologetically: "Here, as alsewhere there is
little doing to-day; on a Friday you would see it thronged, and
gay with people, and in the afternoon there is generally music
about the fountain. However, I daresay we shall have a pretty
good gathering at our mid-day meal."
We drove through the quadrangle and by an archway, into a large
handsome stable on the other side, where we speedily stalled the
old nag and made him happy with horse-meat, and then turned and
walked back again through the market, Dick looking rather
thoughtful, as it seemed to me.
I noticed that people couldn't help looking at me rather hard;
and considering my clothes and theirs, I didn't wonder; but
whenever they caught my eye they made me a very friendly sign of
greeting.
We walked straight into the forecourt of the Museum, where,
except that the railings were gone, and the whispering boughs of
the trees were all about, nothing seemed changed; the very
pigeons were wheeling about the building and clinging to the
ornaments of the pediment as I had seen them of old.
Dick seemed grown a little absent, but he could
"It is rather an
ugly old building, isn't it? Many people have wanted to pull it
down and rebuild it: and perhaps if work does really get scarce
we may yet do so. But, as my great-grandfather will tell you, it
would not be quite a straightforward job; for there are wonderful
collections in there of all kinds of antiquities, besides an
enormous library with many exceedingly beautiful books in it, and
many most useful ones as genuine records, texts of ancient works
and the like; and the worry and anxiety, and even the risk, there
would be in moving all this has saved the buildings themselves.
Besides, as we said before, it is not a bad thing to have some
record of what our forefathers thought a handsome building. For
there is plenty of labour and material in it."
"I see there is," said I, "and I quite agree with you.
But now hadn't we better make haste to see your great grand-father?"
In fact, I could not help seing that he was rather dallying with
the time. He said, "Yes, we will go into the house in a
minute. My kinsmen is too old to do much owrk in the Museum,
where he was a custodian of the books for many years; but he
still lives here a good deal; indeed I think," said he,
smiling, "that he looks upon himself as a part of the books,
or the books a part of him, I don't know which."
He hesitated a little longer, then flushing up, took my hand, and
saying, "Come along, then!" led me toward the door of one
of the old official dwellings.
"Your kinsman doesn't much care for beautiful buildings,
then," said I, as we entered the rather dreary classical
house; which indeed was as bare as need be, except for some big
pots of the June flowers which stood about here and there; though
it was very clean and nicely whitewashed.
"O, I don't know," said Dick, rather absently, "He is
getting old, certainly, for he is over a hundred and five, and no
doubt he doesn't care about moving. But of course he could live
in a prettier house if he liked: he is not obliged to live in any
one place any more than any one else. This way, Guest."
And he led the way upsteairs, and opening a door we went into a
fair-sized rom of the old type, as plain as the rest of the
house, with a few necessary pieces of furniture, and those very
simple and even rude, but solid and with a good deal of carving
about them, well designed but rather crudely executed. At the
furthest corner of the room, at a desk near the window, sat a
little old man in a roomy oak chair, well be-cushioned. He was
dressed in a sort of Norfolk jacket of blue serge worn
threadbare, with breeches of the same, and grey worsted
stockings. He jumpped up from his chair, and cried out in a voice
of considerable volume for such an old man, "Welcome, Dick,
my lad; Clara is here, and will be more than glad to see you; so
keep your heart up."
"Clara here?" quoth Dick; "if I had known, I would not
have brought— At least I mean I would—"
He was stuttering and confused, clearly because he was anxious to
say nothing to make me feel one too many. But the old man, who
had not seen me at first, helped him out by coming forward and
saying to me in a kind tone:
"Pray pardon me, for I did not
notice that Dick, who is big enough to hade anybody, you know,
had brought a friend with him. A most hearty welcome to you! All
the more, as I almost hope that you are going to amuse an old man
by giving him news from over sea for I can see that you are come
from over the water and far-off countries."
He looked at me thoughtfully, almost anxiously, as he said in a
changed voice, "Might I ask you where you come from, as you
are so clearly a stranger?"
I said in an absent way: "I used to live in England, and now I
am come back again; and I slept last night at Hammersmith Guest
House."
He bowed gravely, but seemed, I thought, a little disappointed
with my answer. As for me, I was now looking at him harder than
good manners allowed of, perhaps; for in truth his face, dried-apple-like
as it was seemed strangely familiar to me; as if I had
seen it before—in a looking-glass it might be, said I to
myself.
"Well," said the old man, "wherever you come from, you
are among friends. And I see my kinsman Richard Hammond has an
air about him as if he had brought you here for me to do
something for you. Is that so, Dick? "
Dick, who was getting still more absent-minded and kept looking
uneasily at the door, managed to say,"Well, yes, kiinsman: our
guest finds things much altered, and cannot understand it; nor
can I; so I thought I would bring him to you since you
And he turned toward the door again. We heard footsteps outside;
the door opened, and in came a very beautiful young woman, who
stopped short on seeing Dick, and fllushed as red as a rose, but
faced him nevertheless. Dick looked at her hard, and half reached
out his hand toward her, and his whole face quivered with
emotion.
The old man did not leave them long in this shy discomfort, but
said, smiling with an old man's mirth: "Dick, my lad, and you,
my dear Clara, I rather think that we two oldsters are in your
way; for I think you will have plenty to say to each other. You
had better go into Nelson's room up above; I know he has gone
out; and he has just been covering the walls all over with
medieval books, so it will be pretty enough even for you two and
your renewed pleasure."
The girl reached out her hand to Dick, and taking his led him out
of the room, looking straight before her; but it was easy to see
that her blushes came from happiness, not anger; as, indeed love
is far more self-conscious than wrath.
When the door had shut on them the old man turned to me, still
smiling, and said:
"Frankly, my dear guest, you will do me a
great service if you are come to set my old tongue wagging. My
love of talk still abides with me, or rather grows on me; and
though it is pleasant enough to see these youngsters moving about
and playing together so seriously, as if the whole world depended
on their kisses (as indeed it does somewhat), yet I don't think
my tales of the past interest them much. The last harvest, the
last baby, the last knot of carving in the
He looked at me keenly and with growing wonder in his eyes as he
spoke; and I answered in a low voice:
"I know only so much of
your modern life as I could gather from using my eyes on the way
here from Hammersmith and from asking some questions of Richard
Hammond, most of which he could hardly understand."
The old man smiled at this. "Then," said he, "I am to
speak to you as—"
"As if I were a being from another planet," said I.
The old man, whose name, by the bye, like his kinsman's was Hammond,
smiled and nodded, and wheeling his seat round to me, bade me sit
in a heavy oak chair, and said, as he saw my eyes fix on its
curious carving:
"Yes, I am much tied to the past, I was silent for a minute, and then I said, somewhat nervously:
"Excuse me if I am rude; but I am so much interested in
Richard since he has been so kind to me, a perfect stranger, that
I should like to ask a question about him."
"Well," said old Hammond, "if he were not `kind,' as you
call it, to a perfect stranger he would be thought a strange
person, and people would be apt to shun him. But ask on, ask on!
don't be shy of asking."
Said I: "That beautiful girl, is he going to be married to
her?"
"Well," said he, "Yes, he is. He has been
married to her once already, and now I should say it is pretty
clear that he will be married to her again."
"Indeed," quoth I, wondering what that meant.
"Here is the whole tale," said old Hammond; "a short one
enough; and now I hope a happy one: they lived together two years
the first time; were both very young; and then she got it into
her head that she was in love with somebody else. So she left
poor Dick; I say "Dear me," said I. "Have they any children?"
"Yes," said he,"two; they are staying with one
"Ah," said I, "no doubt you wanted to keep them our of
the Divorce Court: but I suppose it often has to settle such
matters."
"Then you suppose nonsense," said he. "I
know that there used to be such lunatic affairs as divorce
courts. But just consider; all the cases that came into them were
matters of property quarrels: and I think, dear guest," said
he, smiling, "that though you do come from another planet,
you can see from the mere outside look of our world that quarrels
about private property could not go on amongst us in our days."
Indeed, my drive from Hammersmith to Bloomsbury, and all the
quiet happy life I had seen so many hints of, even apart from my
shopping, would have been enough to tell me that `the sacred
rights of property,' as we used to think of them, were now no
more. So I sat silent while the old man took up the thread of the
discourse again, and said:
"Well, then, property quarrels
being no longer possible, what remains in these matters that a
court of law could deal with? Fancy a court for enforcing a
contract of passion or sentiment! If such a thing were needed as
a He was silent again a little, and then said: "You must
understand once for all that we have changed these matters; or
rather, that our way of looking at them has changed, as we have
changed within the
Again he paused awhile, and again went on: "Calf love,
mistaken for a heroism that shall be life-long, yet early waning
into disappointment; the inexplicable desire that comes on a man
of riper years to be the all-in-all to some one woman, whose
ordinary human kindness and human beauty he has idealised into
superhuman perfection, and made the one object of his desire; or
lastly the reasonable longing of a strong and thoughtful man to
become the most intimate friend of some beautiful and wise woman,
the very type of the beauty and glory of the world which we love
so well,—as we exult in all the pleasure and exaltation of
spirit which goes with these things, so we set ourselves to bear
the sorrow which not unseldom goes with them also; remembering
those lines of the ancient poet (I quote roughly from memory one
of the many translations of the nineteenth century):
Well, well, 'tis little likely anyhow that all tales shall be lacking, or all
sorrow cured."
He was silent for some time, and I would not
He paused, as if for some words of mine; but I held my peace:
then he went on: "At least, if we suffer from the tyranny and
fickleness of nature or our own want of experience, we neither
grimace about it nor lie. If there must be a sundering betwixt
those
"N-o-no," said I, with some hesitationl "It is all so
different."
"At any rate," said he, "one thing I think I can answer
for: whatever sentiment there is, it is real—and general; it
is not confined to people very specially refined. I am also
pretty sure, as I hinted to you just now, that there is not by a
great way as much suffering involved in these matters either to
men or to women as there used to be. But excuse me for being so
prolix on this question! You know you asked to be treated like a
being from another planet."
"Indeed I thank you very much," said I. "Now may I ask
you about the position of women in your society?"
He laughed very heartily for a man of his years, and said:
"It is not without reason that I have got a repuation as a
careful student of history I believe I really do understand `the
Emancipation of Women movement' of the nineteenth century. I
doubt if any other man now alive does."
"Well?" said I, a little bit nettled by his merriment.
"Well," said he, "of course you will see that all that
is a dead controversy now. The men have no longer any opportunity
of tyrrannising over the women, or the women over the men; both
of which things took place in those old times. The women do what
they can do best, and what they like best, and the men are
neither jealous of it or injured by it. This is such a
commonplace that I am almost ashamed to state it."
I said, "O; and legislation? do they take any part in that?"
Hammond smiled and said: "I think you may wait for an answer
to that question till we get on to the subject of legislation.
There may be novelties to you in that subject also."
"Very well," I said; "but about this woman question? I
saw at the Guest House that the women were waiting on the men:
that seems a little like reaction, doesn't it?"
"Does it?" said the old man; "perhaps you think
housekeeping an unimportant occupation, not deserving of respect.
I believe that was the opinion of the `advanced' women of the
nineteenth century, and their male backers. If it is yours, I
recommend to your notice an old Norwegian folk-lore tale called
I sat somewhat uneasy under this dry gibe. Indeed, his manner of
treating this latter part of the question seemed to me a little
disrespectful.
"Come, now, my friend," quoth he, "don't you know that
it is a great pleasure to a clever woman to manage a house
skillfully, and to do it so that all the house-mates about her
look pleased, and are grateful to her? And then, you know,
everybody likes to be ordered about by a pretty woman: why , it
is one of the pleasantest forms of flirtation. You are not so old
that you cannot remember that. Why, I remember it well."
And the old fellow chuckled again, and at last fairly burst out
laughing.
"Excuse me," said he, after a while; "I am not laughing
at anything you could be thinking of, but at that silly
nineteenth-century fashion, current amongst rich so-called
cultivated people, of ignoring all the steps by which their daily
dinner was reached, as matters too low for their lofty
intelligence. Useless idiots! Come, now, I am a `literary man,'
as we queer animals used to be called, yet I am a pretty good
cook myself."
"So am I," said I.
"Well, then,"
said he, "I really think you can understand me better than you
would seem to so, judging by your words and your silence."
Said I: "Perhaps that is so; but people putting in practice
commonly this sense of interest in the ordinary occupations of
life rather startles me. I will ask you a question or two
presently about that. But I want to return to the position of
women amongst you. You have studied the `emanciation of women'
business of the nineteenth century: don't you remember that some
of the `superior' women wanted to emancipate the more intelligent
part of their sex from the bearing of children?"
The old man grew quite serious again. Said he: "I "You speak warmly," I said, "but I can see that you are
right"
"Yes," he said, "and I will point out to you
a token of all the benefits which we have gained by our freedom.
What did you think of the looks of the people whom you have come
across to-day?"
Said I "I could hardly have believed that
there could be so many good-looking people in any civilised
country."
He crowed a little, like the old bird he was. "What! are we
still civilised?" said he. "Well, as to our looks, the
English and Jutish blood, which on the whole is predominant here,
used not to produce much beauty. But I think we have improved it.
I know a man who has a large collection of portraits printed from
photographs of the nineteenth century, and going over them and
comparing them with the everyday faces in these times, puts the
improvement in our good looks beyond a doubt. Now, there are
some people who think it not too fantastic to connect this
increase of beauty directly with our freedom and
"I am much of that mind," said I.
"Well," said the old man, shifting in his chair, "you
must get on with your questions, Guest; I have been some time
answering this first one."
Said I: "I want an extra word or two about your ideas of education;
although I gathered from Dick that you let your children run wild
and didn't teach them anything; and in short, that you have so
refined your education, that now you have none."
"Then you gathered left-handed," quoth he." But of
course I understand your point of view about education, which is
that of times past, when `the struggle for life,' as men used to
phrase it ( I stopped the old man's rising wrath by a laugh, and said:
"Well, "True, true," said he smiling. "I thank you for
correcting my ill temper: I always fancy myself as living in any
period of which we may be speaking. But, however, to put it in a
cooler way: you expected to see children thrust into schools when
they had reached an age conventionally supposed to be the due
age, whatever their varying faculties and dispositions might be,
and when there, with like disregard to facts, to be subjected to
a certain conventional courese of `learning'. My friend, can't
you see that such a proceeding means ignoring the fact of
"Yes," said I, "but suppose the child, youth, man, never
wants the information, never grows in the direction you might
hope him to do: suppose, for instance, he objects to learning
arithmetic or mathematics; you can't force him when he "Well," said he, "were you forced to learn arithmetic
and mathematics?"
"A little," said I.
"And how old are you now?"
"Say fifty-six," said I.
"And how much arithmetic and mathematics do you know now?"
quoth the old man, smiling rather mockingly.
Said I: "None whatever, I am sorry to say."
Hammond laughed quietly, but made no other comment on my
admission, and I dropped the subject of education, perceiving him
to be hopeless on that side.
I thought a little, and said: "You were speaking just now of
households: that sounded to me a little like the customs of past
times; I should have thought you would have lived more in public."
"Phalangsteries, eh?" said he. "Well, we live as we
like, and we like to live as a rule with certain house-mates that
we have got used to. Remember, again, that poverty is extinct,
and that the Fourierist phalangsteries and all their kind, as was
but natural at the time, implied nothing but a refuge from mere
destitution. Such a way of life as that, could only have been
conceived of by people surrounded by the worst form of poverty.
But you must understand therewith, that though separate
households are the rule amongst us, and though they differ in
their habits more or less, yet no door is shut to any
A Morning Bath
are for. Where there are salmon, there are likely to be
salmon-nets, Tay or Thames; but of course they are not always in
use; we don't want salmon every day ot the season."
isa pretty bridge,
isn't it? Even the up-stream bridges, which are so much smaller,
are scarcely daintier, and the down-stream ones are scarcely more
dignified and stately."
is a waterman , and is considering what he may venture to
take. he seems such a nice fellow that I'm sure I don't grudge
him a little overpayment. I wonder, by the way, whether I
couldn't hire him as a guide for a day or two, since he is so
intelligent.
business, which I would
do for anybody; so to take gifts in connection with it would
look very queer. Besides, if one person gave me something, then
another might, and another, and so on; and I hope you won't think
me rude if I say that I shouldn't know where to stow away so many
mementos of friendship."
are a stranger,
and must come from a place very unlike England. But it also is
clear that it won't do to overdose you with information about
this place, and that you had best suck it in little by little.
Further, I should take it as very kind in you if you would allow
me to be the showman of our new world to you, since you have
stumbled on me first. Though indeed it will be a mere kindness on
your part, for almost anybody would make as good a guide, and
many much better."
The Guest House And Breakfast Therein
all the blackbirds; however, there are a few about as good
as you will get them anywhere in Hammersmith this morning."
Guests and neighbours, on the site of this
Guest-hall once stood the lecture-room of the
Hammersmith Socialists. Drink a glass to
the memory! May1962."
naiveté that the
merriment flitted all over their faces, though for courtes y's
sake thay forbore actual laughter; while I looked from one to the
other in a puzzled manner, and at last said:
did laugh, and I joined them again, for the
above-stated reasons. But at last the pretty woman said
coaxingly:
is rude, poor fellow! but
you see I may as well tell you what he is thinking about; he
means that you look rather old for your age. But surely there need be
no wonder in that, since you have been travelling; and clearly
from all you have been saying, in unsocial countries. It has
often been said, and no doubt truly that one ages very quickly
if one lives amongst unhappy people. Also they say that southern
England is a good place for keeping good looks." She blushed
and said:"How old am I, do you think?"
could use his
hands. But, Dick, old fellow, Ne quid nimis! Don't overdo
it!"
my questions after his
own have been answered."
A Market By The Way
Children On The Road
not know, in spite of his
assumptions, that I thought it better to hold my tongue.
educare, to lead
out; and I have heard it used; but I have never met anybody who
could give me a clear explanation of what it means."
will take to books
very early; which perhaps is not good for them; but it's no use
thwarting them; and very often it doesn't last long with them,
and they find their level before they are twenty years old. You
see, children are mostly goven to imitating their elders, and
when they see most people about them engaged in genuinely amusing
work, like house-building and street-paving, and gardening and the
like, that is what they want to be doing; so I don't think we need
fear having too many book-learned men."
very queer talk that I was on the
point of asking him another question; when just as we came to
the top of a rising ground, down a long glade of the wood on my
right I caught sight of a stately building whose outline was
familiar to me, and I cried out, "Westminster Abbey!"
wedone with it?"said he; "nothing
much, save clean it. But you know the whole outside was spoiled
centuries ago: as to the inside, that remains in its beauty after
the great clearance, which took place over a hundred years ago,
of the beastly monuments to fools and knaves, which once blocked
it up, as great-grandfather says."
within doors is to me so delightful
that if I were driven to it I would almost sacrifice out-door
space to it. Then, of course, there is the ornament, which, as
we must all allow, may easily be overdone in mere living houses,
but can hardly be in mote-halls and markets, and so forth. I must
tell you, though, that my great-grandfather sometimes tells me I
am a little cracked on this subject of fine building; and indeed
I do think that the energies of mankind are chiefly of use
to them for such work; for in that direction I can see no end to
the work, while in many others a limit does seem possible."
A Little Shopping
not feel it my duty to set myself up for a
scarecrow amidst this beauty-loving people but I saw I had got
across some ineradicable prejudice, and that it wouldn't do to
quarrel with my new friend. So I merely said "O certainly,
certainly."
all their time, because they were fit for so little.
Indeed, I believe that at one time they were actually
compelled
I saw
nothing funny in people not liking to work, as you may well
imagine.
Trafalgar Square
that was important
enough, if the historians don't lie."
is too ridiculous to be
true."
is true; except that there was no
fighting, merely unarmed and peaceable people attacked by
ruffians armed with bludgeons."
had to put up with it; we
couldn't help it."
not any prisons: I'm afraid you will think the worse of me
for losing my temper. Of course, you, coming from the outlands,
cannot be expected to know about these things. And now I'm afraid
I have made you feel uncomfortable."
is a pretty thing, and since
nobody need make such things
unless they like, I don't see why they shouldn't make them
if they like. Of course, if carvers were scarce they would
all be busy on the architecture, as you callit, and then these
`toys' (a good word) would not be made; but since there are
plenty of good people who can carve—in fact, almost everybody,
and as work is somewhat scarce, or we are afraid it may be, folk
do not discourage this kind of petty work."
An Old Friend
is alive. But now, guest, we are so near to my old
kinsman's dwelling-place that I think you had better keep all
future questions for him."
Concerning Love
my
past, you understand. These very pieces of furniture belong to a
time before my early days; it was my father who got them made; if
they had been done within the last fifty years they would have
been much cleverer in execution; but I don't think I should have
liked them the better. We were almost beginning again in those
days: and they were brisk, hot-headed times. But you hear how
garrulous I am: ask me questions ask me questions about anything
dear guest; since I must talk, make my talk profitable to
you."
poorDick, because he had not found any
one else. But it did not last long, only about a year. Then she
came to me, as she was in the habit of bringing her troubles to
the old carle, and asked me how Dick was, and whether he was
happy, and all the rest of it. So I saw how the land lay, and
said that he was very unhappy, and not at all well; which last at
any rate was a lie. There, you can guess the rest. Clara came to
have a long talk with me to-day, but Dick will serve her turn
much better. Indeed, if he hadn't chanced in upon me to-day I
should have had to have sent for him tomorrow."
reductio ad absurdum of the enforcement of contract,
such a folly would do that for us."
artificially
foolish. The folly which comes by nature, the unwisdom of the
immature man, or the older man caught in a trap, we must put up
with that, nor are we much ashamed of it; but to be
conventionally sensitive or sentimental—my friend, I am old
and perhaps disappointed, but at least I think we have cast off
some of the follies of the older world."
forced to pronounce, either by unconsidered
habit, or by the unexpressed threat of the lesser interdict if
they are lax in their hypocrisy. Are you shocked now?"
I think. Of
course no such mishap could happen to such a superior person as
yourself," he added, chuckling.
do
remember about that strange piece of baseless folly, the result,
like all other follies of the period, of the hideous class
tyrrany which then obtained. What do we think of it now? you
would say. My friend, that is a question easy to answer. How
could it possibly be but that maternity should be highly
honoured amongst us? Surely it is a matter of course that the
natural and necessary pains that a mother must go through form a
bond of union between man and woman, an extra stimulus to love
and affection between them, and that this is universally
recognised. For the rest, remember that all the artificial
burdens of motherhood are now done away with. A mother has no
longer any mere sordid anxieties for the future of her children.
They may indeed turn out better or worse; they may disappoint her
highest hopes; such anxieties as these are a part of the mingled
pleasure and pain which goes to make up the life of mankind. But
at least she is spared the fear (it was most commonly the
certainty) that artificial disabilities would make her children
something less than men and women: she knows that they will live
and act according to the measure of their own faculties. In times
past, it is clear that the `Society' of the day helped its
Judaic
Questions and Answers
i.e.,the struggle for a slave's rations on one
side, and for a bouncing share of the slave-holders' privilege on
the other), pinched `education' for most people into a niggardly
dole of not very accurate information; something to be swallowed
by the beginner in the art of living whether he liked it or not,
and was hungry for it or not: and which had been chewed and
digested over and over again by people who didn't care about it
in order to serve it out to other people who didn't care about
it.cq.
you were not taught that way, at any rate, so
you may let your anger run off you a little."
growth, bodily and mental? No one could come out of such a
mill uninjured; and those only would avoid being crushed by it
who would have the spirit of rebellion strong in them.
Fortunately most children have had that at all times, or I do not
know that we should ever have reached our present position. Now
you see what it all comes to. In the old times all this was the
result of poverty. In the nineteenth century, society was
so miserably poor, owing to the systematised robbery on which it
was founded that real education was impossible for anybody. The
whole theory of their so called education was that it was
necessary to shove a little information into a child, even if it
were by means of torture, and accompanied by twaddle which it was
well known was of no use, or else he would lack information
lifelong: the hurry of poverty forbade anything else. All that is
past; we are no longer hurried, and the information lies ready to
each one's hand when his own inclinations impel him to seek it.
In this as in other matters we have become wealthy: we can afford
to give ourselves time to grow."
is
grown; can't you force him while he is growing, and oughtn't you
to do so?"