Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 8
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
Then I told how she used to sleep by herself in a lone chamber of the
great lone house; and how she believed that an apparition of two infants
was to be seen at midnight gliding up and down the great staircase near
where she slept, but she said "those innocents would do her no harm;"
and how frightened I used to be, though in those days I had my maid to
sleep with me, because I was never half so good or religious as
she,--and yet I never saw the infants.
Here John expanded all his eyebrows and tried to look courageous.
Then I told how good she was to all her grandchildren, having us to the
great house in the holidays, where I in particular used to spend many
hours by myself, in gazing upon the old busts of the twelve Caesars,
that had been Emperors of Rome, till the old marble heads would seem to
live again, or I to be turned into marble with them; how I never could
be tired with roaming about that huge mansion, with its vast empty
rooms, with their worn-out hangings, fluttering tapestry, and carved
oaken panels, with the gilding almost rubbed out,--sometimes in the
spacious old-fashioned gardens, which I had almost to myself, unless
when now and then a solitary gardening man would cross me,--and how the
nectarines and peaches hung upon the walls,[338-9] without my ever
offering to pluck them, because they were forbidden fruit, unless now
and then,--and because I had more pleasure in strolling about among the
old melancholy-looking yew-trees,[338-10] or the firs, and picking up
the red berries, and the fir apples, which were good for nothing but to
look at,--or in lying about upon the fresh grass with all the fine
garden smells around me,--or basking in the orangery,[338-11] till I
could almost fancy myself ripening too along with the oranges and the
limes in that grateful warmth,--or in watching the dace[338-12] that
darted to and fro in the fish-pond, at the bottom of the garden, with
here and there a great sulky pike hanging midway down the water in
silent state, as if it mocked at their impertinent friskings,--I had
more pleasure in these busy-idle diversions than in all the sweet
flavors of peaches, nectarines, oranges, and such-like common baits of
children.
Here John slyly deposited back upon the plate a bunch of grapes, which,
not unobserved by Alice he had meditated dividing with her, and both
seemed willing to relinquish them for the present as irrelevant.
[Illustration: ROAMING ABOUT THAT HUGE MANSION]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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