The Entire March Family TrilogyHowells, William Dean
General
The Entire March Family Trilogy
Howells, William Dean
Fiction; Literature -- Collections
They were sauntering towards Durham Terrace where they leaned long upon
the iron parapet and blest themselves with the beauty of the prospect. A
tender haze hung upon the landscape and subdued it till the scene was
as a dream before them. As in a dream the river lay, and dream-like the
shipping moved or rested on its deep, broad bosom. Far off stretched
the happy fields with their dim white villages; farther still the mellow
heights melted into the low hovering heaven. The tinned roofs of the
Lower Town twinkled in the morning sun; around them on every hand, on
that Monday forenoon when the States were stirring from ocean to ocean
in feverish industry, drowsed the gray city within her walls; from the
flag-staff of the citadel hung the red banner of Saint George in sleep.
Their hearts were strangely and deeply moved. It seemed to them that
they looked upon the last stronghold of the Past, and that afar off
to the southward they could hear the marching hosts of the invading
Present; and as no young and loving soul can relinquish old things
without a pang, they sighed a long mute farewell to Quebec.
Next summer they would come again, yes; but, ah me' every one knows what
next summer is!
Part of the burlesque troupe rode down in the omnibus to the Grand Trunk
Ferry with them, and were good-natured to the last, having shaken hands
all round with the waiters, chambermaids, and porters of the hotel. The
young fellow with the bad amiable face came in a calash, and refused to
overpay the driver with a gay decision that made him Basil's envy till
he saw his tribulation in getting the troupe's luggage checked. There
were forty pieces, and it always remained a mystery, considering the
small amount of clothing necessary to those people on the stage, what
could have filled their trunks. The young man and the two English
blondes of American birth found places in the same car with our
tourists, and enlivened the journey with their frolics. When the young
man pretended to fall asleep, they wrapped his golden curly head in
a shawl, and vexed him with many thumps and thrusts, till he bought a
brief truce with a handful of almonds; and the ladies having no other
way to eat them, one of them saucily snatched off her shoe, and cracked
them hammerwise with the heel. It was all so pleasant that it ought to
have been all right; and in their merry world of outlawry perhaps things
are not so bad as we like to think them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account