"Well, directly I got home and changed, I sat down and wrote an account
of the whole concern in some very gaudy prose, and I drove the pony into
the town and handed the letter in at the 'Sentinel' office. My account
was printed. Old Mr. Willits--you remember him--sent to the editor to
know who had done it, and then sent for me. He was very grumpy and
crusty at first, but I explained my position to him simply, and he got
very good humoured. He sent me to a tutor for two years and a half; then
I won a Trinity scholarship, and scored two or three other things; then
I went to the University, and slogged like a slave. Mr. Willits helped
me. I did very well in the Tripos--not so well as men who started
younger--but still I landed ninth. Now I'm principal of the new college
that ---- endowed, and I have a very good thing indeed."
So my friend, the rabbit-catcher, became a successful man, and, I am
sure, I wished him joy.
THE GIANTS.
In passing along the shores of the bay, on evenings when the water was
smooth, you could hear a succession of dull thuds like the sound of
distant guns. Looking to eastward you saw a dark semicircular streak on
the water, and inside this streak a coble glided slowly hither and
thither. One man rowed gently, letting his oars drop into the water with
a slight splash, that could be heard nevertheless a long way off. The
sweeps were so long that the rower could not scull in the ordinary way,
but crossed his arms and held the handle of the right sweep in his left
hand, and _vice versa_. In the stern of the boat stood a man of gigantic
size. At intervals he heaved up a great tiller into the air and brought
it down with all his strength; he then gathered himself for another
effort while the split end of the tiller floated on the water; then came
another strong muscular effort, and then another resounding splash. If
the boat drew near the brown rocks the blows of the tiller would startle
a piper or a curlew; a long note of warning would pierce the stillness,
and a wailing answer came from the next point; then a shrill clamour
passed all round the bay, and the birds skimmed towards the island like
flights of dark arrows.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account