Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 2 (of 2)Wordsworth, Dorothy
General
Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Wordsworth, Dorothy
Authors, English -- 19th century -- Diaries; Wordsworth, Dorothy, 1771-1855 -- Diaries; Wordsworth, William, 1770-1850 -- Family
She moved with unusual activity, which was chastened very delicately by
a certain hesitation in her looks when she spoke, being able to
understand us but imperfectly. They were both exceedingly desirous to
get me what I wanted to make me comfortable. I was to have a gown and
petticoat of the mistress's; so they turned out her whole wardrobe upon
the parlour floor, talking Erse to one another, and laughing all the
time. It was long before they could decide which of the gowns I was to
have; they chose at last, no doubt thinking that it was the best, a
light-coloured sprigged cotton, with long sleeves, and they both laughed
while I was putting it on, with the blue linsey petticoat, and one or
the other, or both together, helped me to dress, repeating at least half
a dozen times, "You never had on the like of that before." They held a
consultation of several minutes over a pair of coarse woollen stockings,
gabbling Erse as fast as their tongues could move, and looked as if
uncertain what to do: at last, with great diffidence, they offered them
to me, adding, as before, that I had never worn "the like of them." When
we entered the house we had been not a little glad to see a fowl stewing
in barley-broth; and now when the wettest of our clothes were stripped
off, began again to recollect that we were hungry, and asked if we could
have dinner. "Oh yes, ye may get that," the elder replied, pointing to
the pan on the fire.
Conceive what a busy house it was--all our wet clothes to be dried,
dinner prepared and set out for us four strangers, and a second cooking
for the family; add to this, two rough "callans," as they called them,
boys about eight years old, were playing beside us; the poor baby was
fretful all the while; the old woman sang doleful Erse songs, rocking it
in its cradle the more violently the more it cried; then there were a
dozen cookings of porridge, and it could never be fed without the
assistance of all three. The hut was after the Highland fashion, but
without anything beautiful except its situation; the floor was rough,
and wet with the rain that came in at the door, so that the lasses' bare
feet were as wet as if they had been walking through street puddles, in
passing from one room to another; the windows were open, as at the other
hut; but the kitchen had a bed in it, and was much smaller, and the
shape of the house was like that of a common English cottage, without
its comfort; yet there was no appearance of poverty--indeed, quite the
contrary. The peep out of the open door-place across the lake made some
amends for the want of the long roof and elegant rafters of our
boatman's cottage, and all the while the waterfall, which we could not
see, was roaring at the end of the hut, which seemed to serve as a
sounding-board for its noise, so that it was not unlike sitting in a
house where a mill is going. The dashing of the waves against the shore
could not be distinguished; yet in spite of my knowledge of this I
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account