Life's Little Ironies: A set of tales with some colloquial sketches entitled A Few Crusted CharactersHardy, Thomas
General
Life's Little Ironies: A set of tales with some colloquial sketches entitled A Few Crusted Characters
Hardy, Thomas
Short stories, English; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
could hardly make up his mind upon that great and very particular
point, where to land. His uncertainty came about in this wise, that he
could get no news as to where and how our troops lay in waiting, and
that his knowledge of possible places where flat-bottomed boats might
be quietly run ashore, and the men they brought marshalled in order,
was dim to the last degree. Being flat-bottomed, they didn’t require a
harbour for unshipping their cargo of men, but a good shelving beach
away from sight, and with a fair open road toward London. How the
question posed that great Corsican tyrant (as we used to call him),
what pains he took to settle it, and, above all, what a risk he ran on
one particular night in trying to do so, were known only to one man
here and there; and certainly to no maker of newspapers or printer of
books, or my account o’t would not have had so many heads shaken over
it as it has by gentry who only believe what they see in printed lines.
‘The flocks my father had charge of fed all about the downs near our
house, overlooking the sea and shore each way for miles. In winter and
early spring father was up a deal at nights, watching and tending the
lambing. Often he’d go to bed early, and turn out at twelve or one; and
on the other hand, he’d sometimes stay up till twelve or one, and then
turn in to bed. As soon as I was old enough I used to help him, mostly
in the way of keeping an eye upon the ewes while he was gone home to
rest. This is what I was doing in a particular month in either the year
four or five—I can’t certainly fix which, but it was long before I was
took away from the sheepkeeping to be bound prentice to a trade. Every
night at that time I was at the fold, about half a mile, or it may be a
little more, from our cottage, and no living thing at all with me but
the ewes and young lambs. Afeard? No; I was never afeard of being alone
at these times; for I had been reared in such an out-step place that
the lack o’ human beings at night made me less fearful than the sight
of ’em. Directly I saw a man’s shape after dark in a lonely place I was
frightened out of my senses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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