Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VII, December 1850, Vol. IIVarious
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VII, December 1850, Vol. II
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
The road wound round the base of a series of hills and other rising
ground, and a line of vehicles might be seen all along this serpentine
road, for two or three miles' distance; while a long unbroken line of
pedestrians were descried winding along the pathway across the fields.
After a very jolting and rumbling drive, Sir Valentine found himself
"shot out" with the rest of the company, in front of a small "public"
knocked up for the occasion, with a load or two of bricks and some
boards, and crowded to excess. Private carriages, flies, cabs, carts,
wagons, vans, were standing around, together with booths and
wheelbarrows, set out with apples, nuts, bread and cheese, and
ginger-beer of a peculiarly thin stream. Sir Valentine having
breakfasted early, hastily, and lightly, was by this time--a quarter to
two--extremely sharp set; he endeavored, therefore, to make his way into
the house to get a bottle of stout and some ham or cold beef for
luncheon. But after ten minutes' continuous efforts, he found he was
still between the door-posts, and the noisy, choked-up window of the
"bar," as far from his hopes as ever. He abandoned the attempt in
disgust--but not without addressing himself to a seafaring man who was
standing with his hands in his pockets, looking on:
"Is this sense?" said the knight. "Do you call this common sense? Do you
think you are acting with any more reason than a dog possesses, to treat
the public in this way? Then, your own interest--look at it!" (pointing
to the crowd struggling in the door-way). "If you had any foresight, or
a head for the commonest arrangements, would you not have a barrel of
ale on wheels outside here?"
The seafaring man swung round on his heel with a smile, and Sir
Valentine, having made his way into the field, obtained six pennyworth
of gingerbread and a dozen of small apples, with which provender he in
some sort revived his exhausted frame. He now bustled on toward the
foot of a broken embankment leading up to a lofty rising ground, the
summit being the cliffs, a large portion of which was shortly to be
detached, and thrown down by the explosion of a mine. The part to be
blown off was marked out by broad belts of white, where the chalk had
been thrown up, which made an imposing appearance even on the distant
heights.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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