Boardinghouses -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Victoria, 1837-1901 -- Fiction; Widows -- Fiction
It took the Major a little longer to read than I should have thought,
judging from the copious flow with which he seemed to be gifted when
attacking the organ-men, but at last he got through it, and stood a
gazing at me in amazement.
"Major" I says "you're paralysed."
"Madam" says the Major, "Jemmy Jackman is doubled up."
Now it did so happen that the Major had been out to get a little
information about railroads and steamboats, as our boy was coming home
for his Midsummer holidays next day and we were going to take him
somewhere for a treat and a change. So while the Major stood a gazing it
came into my head to say to him "Major I wish you'd go and look at some
of your books and maps, and see whereabouts this same town of Sens is in
France."
The Major he roused himself and he went into the Parlours and he poked
about a little, and he came back to me and he says, "Sens my dearest
madam is seventy-odd miles south of Paris."
With what I may truly call a desperate effort "Major," I says "we'll go
there with our blessed boy."
If ever the Major was beside himself it was at the thoughts of that
journey. All day long he was like the wild man of the woods after
meeting with an advertisement in the papers telling him something to his
advantage, and early next morning hours before Jemmy could possibly come
home he was outside in the street ready to call out to him that we was
all a going to France. Young Rosycheeks you may believe was as wild as
the Major, and they did carry on to that degree that I says "If you two
children ain't more orderly I'll pack you both off to bed." And then
they fell to cleaning up the Major's telescope to see France with, and
went out and bought a leather bag with a snap to hang round Jemmy, and
him to carry the money like a little Fortunatus with his purse.
If I hadn't passed my word and raised their hopes, I doubt if I could
have gone through with the undertaking but it was too late to go back
now. So on the second day after Midsummer Day we went off by the morning
mail. And when we came to the sea which I had never seen but once in my
life and that when my poor Lirriper was courting me, the freshness of it
and the deepness and the airiness and to think that it had been rolling
ever since and that it was always a rolling and so few of us minding,
made me feel quite serious. But I felt happy too and so did Jemmy and
the Major and not much motion on the whole, though me with a swimming in
the head and a sinking but able to take notice that the foreign insides
appear to be constructed hollower than the English, leading to much more
tremenjous noises when bad sailors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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