Night and Morning, CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Night and Morning, Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction
Poverty began already to stare him in the face, when the only
friend who, having shared his prosperity, remained true to his adverse
fate,--a friend, fortunately for him, of high connections and brilliant
prospects--succeeded in obtaining for him the humble living of A----.
To this primitive spot the once jovial roisterer cheerfully
retired--contrived to live contented upon an income somewhat less than
he had formerly given to his groom--preached very short sermons to a
very scanty and ignorant congregation, some of whom only understood
Welsh--did good to the poor and sick in his own careless, slovenly
way--and, uncheered or unvexed by wife and children, he rose in summer
with the lark and in winter went to bed at nine precisely, to save coals
and candles. For the rest, he was the most skilful angler in the whole
county; and so willing to communicate the results of his experience as
to the most taking colour of the flies, and the most favoured haunts of
the trout--that he had given especial orders at the inn, that
whenever any strange gentleman came to fish, Mr. Caleb Price should be
immediately sent for. In this, to be sure, our worthy pastor had his
usual recompense. First, if the stranger were tolerably liberal, Mr.
Price was asked to dinner at the inn; and, secondly, if this failed,
from the poverty or the churlishness of the obliged party, Mr. Price
still had an opportunity to hear the last news--to talk about the
Great World--in a word, to exchange ideas, and perhaps to get an old
newspaper, or an odd number of a magazine.
Now, it so happened that one afternoon in October, when the periodical
excursions of the anglers, becoming gradually rarer and more rare, had
altogether ceased, Mr. Caleb Price was summoned from his parlour in
which he had been employed in the fabrication of a net for his cabbages,
by a little white-headed boy, who came to say there was a gentleman at
the inn who wished immediately to see him--a strange gentleman, who had
never been there before.
Mr. Price threw down his net, seized his hat, and, in less than five
minutes, he was in the best room of the little inn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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