The Maid of SkerBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Maid of Sker
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Foundlings -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Wales -- Fiction
and take observations throughout the coverts, whenever the pheasants did
not disturb me.
This privilege, and a flight of wild-ducks, followed by a team of geese,
and rumours even of two wild swans, moderated my desire to be back at
home again. There no man can get a shot, except in very bitter weather,
or when the golden plovers come in, unless he likes to take on himself a
strong defiance of public opinion. Because Colonel Lougher is so kind,
and so forbears to prosecute, that to shoot his game is no game at all,
and shames almost any man afterwards. And the glory of all that
night-work is, the sense of wronging somebody.
Moreover, a little thing occurred, which, in my doubt of conclusion, led
me to stay a bit longer. Some people may think nothing of it, but a kind
touch takes a hold on me. I have spoken of a boy, by the name of Bang,
possessing many good qualities, yet calling for education. Of this I
had given him some little, administered not to his head alone, but to
more influential quarters; and the result was a crop of gratitude
watered by humility. When he went home for the winter months, I expected
to hear no more of him, having been served in that manner often by boys
whom I have corrected. Therefore all who have ever observed the want of
thankfulness in the young, will enter into my feelings when an ancient
woman, Bang's grandmother, hailed me in a shaky voice over the side of
my ketch, with Bang in the distance watching her. Between her feet was a
good large basket, which with my usual fine feeling I leaped out to ease
her of. But on no account would she let me touch it, until she knew more
about me.
"Be you the man?" she said.
"Madam," I answered, "I be the man."
"The man as goes on so wicked to Bang, for the sake of his soul
hereafter?"
"Yes, madam, I am he who clothed in the wholesome garb of severity a
deep and parental affection;" for now I smelled something uncommonly
good.
"Be you the chap as wolloped him?"
"That I can proudly say I am."
"Look 'e see, here, this be for 'e, then!"
With no common self-approval, I observed what she turned out; although I
longed much to unpack them myself, for fear of her spoiling anything.
But she put me back in a wholesale manner, and spread it all out like a
market-stand. And really it was almost enough to make a market of; for
she was a very wiry old woman, and Bang had helped carry, as far as the
wharf, when he saw me, and fled. Especially did I admire a goose, fat
with golden fat upon him, trussed, and laid on stuffing-herbs. Also, a
little pig for roasting, too young to object to it, yet with his
character formed enough to make his brains delicious. And as for
sausages--but no more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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