Country life -- Fiction; England -- Fiction; Siblings -- Fiction
To nature, as usual, I drifted by instinct, and there, out of the track
of humanity, under a friendly hedge-row had my black hour unseen. The
world was a globe no longer, space was no more filled with whirling
circuses of spheres. That day the old beliefs rose up and asserted
themselves, and the earth was flat again--ditch-riddled, stagnant, and
deadly flat. The undeviating roads crawled straight and white, elms
dressed themselves stiffly along inflexible hedges, all nature,
centrifugal no longer, sprawled flatly in lines out to its farthest
edge, and I felt just like walking out to that terminus, and dropping
quietly off. Then, as I sat there, morosely chewing bits of stick, the
recollection came back to me of certain fascinating advertisements I had
spelled out in the papers--advertisements of great and happy men, owning
big ships of tonnage running into four figures, who yet craved, to
the extent of public supplication, for the sympathetic co-operation of
youths as apprentices. I did not rightly know what apprentices might
be, nor whether I was yet big enough to be styled a youth; but one thing
seemed clear, that, by some such means as this, whatever the intervening
hardships, I could eventually visit all the circuses of the world--the
circuses of merry France and gaudy Spain, of Holland and Bohemia, of
China and Peru. Here was a plan worth thinking out in all its bearings;
for something had presently to be done to end this intolerable state of
things.
Mid-day, and even feeding-time, passed by gloomily enough, till a small
disturbance occurred which had the effect of releasing some of the
electricity with which the air was charged. Harold, it should be
explained, was of a very different mental mould, and never brooded,
moped, nor ate his heart out over any disappointment. One wild
outburst--one dissolution of a minute into his original elements of air
and water, of tears and outcry--so much insulted nature claimed. Then he
would pull himself together, iron out his countenance with a smile, and
adjust himself to the new condition of things.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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