Bracebridge Hall, or The HumoristsIrving, Washington
General
Bracebridge Hall, or The Humorists
Irving, Washington
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; National characteristics, English -- Fiction
But, maugre all these untoward incidents, the rooks have, upon the
whole, a happy holiday life of it. When their young are reared and
fairly launched upon their native element, the air, the cares of the
old folks seem over, and they resume all their aristocratical dignity
and idleness. I have envied them the enjoyment which they appear to
have in their ethereal heights, sporting with clamorous exultation
about their lofty bowers; sometimes hovering over them, sometimes
partially alighting upon the topmost branches, and there balancing
with outstretched wings and swinging in the breeze. Sometimes they
seem to take a fashionable drive to the church and amuse themselves by
circling in airy rings about its spire; at other times a mere garrison
is left at home to mount guard in their stronghold at the grove, while
the rest roam abroad to enjoy the fine weather. About sunset the
garrison gives notice of their return; their faint cawing will be
heard from a great distance, and they will be seen far off like a
sable cloud, and then nearer and nearer, until they all come soaring
home. Then they perform several grand circuits in the air over the
Hall and garden, wheeling closer and closer until they gradually
settle down, when a prodigious cawing takes place, as though they were
relating their day's adventures.
I like at such times to walk about these dusky groves, and hear the
various sounds of these airy people roosted so high above me. As the
gloom increases, their conversation subsides, and they seem to be
gradually dropping asleep; but every now and then there is a querulous
note, as if some one was quarrelling for a pillow, or a little more of
the blanket. It is late in the evening before they completely sink to
repose, and then their old anchorite neighbour, the owl, begins his
lonely hooting from his bachelor's-hall in the wood.
MAY-DAY.
It is the choice time of the year,
For the violets now appear;
Now the rose receives its birth,
And pretty primrose decks the earth.
Then to the May-pole come away,
For it is now a holiday.
--_Acteon and Diana_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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