Martin Pippin in the Apple OrchardFarjeon, Eleanor
General
Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard
Farjeon, Eleanor
Fairy tales; Minstrels -- Fiction
"'Tis the biggest river in Sussex, young man, and the littlest known,
and the fullest of dangers, and the hardest to find; because nobody's
ever found it yet but her and me. And she'd sworn to wed none but him
as could find it with her. Don't I remember the day! Twas the day the
Carrier come, and that was the day o' the week for us folk then. He had
a blue wagon, had George, with scarlet wheels and a green awning; and
his horse was a red-and-white skewbald and jingled bells on its bridle.
A small bandy-legged man was George, wi' a jolly face and a squint, and
as he drives up he toots on a tin trumpet wi' red tassels on it. Didn't
it bring the crowd running! and didn't the crowd bring HIM to a
standstill, some holding old Scarlet Runner by the bridle, and others
standing on the very axles. And the hubbub, young man! It was Where's
my six yards of dimity?' from one, and Have you my coral necklace?'
from another. Where's my bag of comfits? where's my hundreds and
thousands?' from the children; and I can't wait for my ivory fan?'
'My bandanna hanky!' My two ounces of snuff!' My guitar!' My clogs!'
'My satin dancing-shoes!' My onion-seed!' My new spindle!' My
fiddle-bow!' 'My powder-puff!' And some little 'un would lisp, 'I'm
sure you've forgotten my blue balloon!' And then they'd cry,
one-and-all, in a breath, George! what's the news?' And he'd say,
'Give a body elbow-room!' and handing the packages right and left
would allus have something to tell. But on this day he says, News?
There BE no news excepting THE News.' 'And what's THE News?' cries
one-and-all. 'Why,' says George, 'that the Rose of Smockalley consents
to be wed at last.' The Rose!' they cries, and me the loudest, 'to
whom?' To him,' says George, as can find her the Murray River. For a
sailor come by last Tuesday wi' a tale o' the Murray River where he'd
been wrecked and seen wonders; and a woman tormented by curiosity will
go as far as a man tormented by love. And so she's willing to be wed at
last. But she's liker to die a maid.' Then I ups and asks why. And
George he says, For that the sailor breathed such perils that the
lasses was taken wi' the trembles and the lads with the shudders. For,
he says, the river's haunted by spirits, and a mystery at the end of it
which none has ever come back from. And no man dares hazard so dark and
dangerous an adventure, even for love of the Rose.' That pricks a man's
pride to hear, boy, and Shame,' says I, on all West Sussex if that be
so. Here be one man as is ready, and here be fifty others. What d'ye say,
lads?' But Lord! as I looks from one to another they trickles away like
sand through an hourglass, and before we knows it me and George has the
road to ourselves. So he says, I must be getting on to Wisboro', but
first I'll deliver ye your baggage.' You've no baggage o' mine,' says I.
'Yes, if you'll excuse me,' says he; and wi' that he parts the green
awning and says, There she be.' And there she were, sitting on a
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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