The Scouring of the White Horse; Or, The Long Vacation Ramble of a London ClerkHughes, Thomas
General
The Scouring of the White Horse; Or, The Long Vacation Ramble of a London Clerk
Hughes, Thomas
White Horse, Vale of (England)
Now when we had fairly lighted up, and Joe had mixed us a glass of
gin and water a piece, I felt that it was a very good time for me to
have a talk about the White Horse and the scourings. I wasn’t quite
satisfied in my mind with all that the old gentleman had told me on the
hill; and, as I felt sure that Mr. Warton was a scholar, and would find
out directly if there was any thing wrong in what I had taken down, I
took out my note-book, and reminded Joe that he had promised to listen
to it over his pipe. Joe didn’t half like it, and wanted to put the
reading off, but Mr. Warton was very good-natured about it, and said he
should like to hear it--so it was agreed that I should go on, and so I
began. Joe soon was dozing, and every now and then woke up with a jerk,
and pretended he had been listening, and made some remark in broad
Berkshire. He always talks much broader when he is excited, or half
asleep, than when he is cool and has all his wits about him. But I kept
on steadily till I had got through it all, and then Mr. Warton said he
had been very much interested, and believed that all I had taken down
was quite correct.
“What put it into your head,” said he, “to take so much interest in the
Horse?”
“I don’t know, Sir,” said I, “but somehow I can’t think of any thing
else now I have been up there and heard about the battle.” This wasn’t
quite true, for I thought more of Miss Lucy, but I couldn’t tell him
that.
“When I was curate down here,” said he, “I was bitten with the same
maggot. Nothing would serve me but to find out all I could about the
Horse. Now, Joe here, who’s fast asleep--”
“No, he bean’t,” said Joe starting, and giving a pull at his pipe,
which had gone out.
“Well, then, Joe here, who is wide awake, and the rest, who were born
within sight of him, and whose fathers fought at Ashdown, and have
helped to scour him ever since, don’t care half so much for him as we
strangers do.”
“Oh! I dwon’t allow that, mind you,” said Joe; “I dwon’t know as I
cares about your long-tailed words and that; but for keeping the Horse
in trim, and as should be, why, I be ready to pay--”
“Never mind how much, Joseph.”
Joe grinned, and put his pipe in his mouth again. I think he liked
being interrupted by the Parson.
“As I was saying, I found out all I could about the Horse, though it
was little enough, and I shall be very glad to tell you all I know.”
“Then, Sir,” said I, “may I ask you any questions I have a mind to ask
you about it?”
“Certainly,” said he; “but you mustn’t expect to get much out of me.”
“Thank you, Sir,” said I. “A thousand years seems a long time, Sir,
doesn’t it? Now, how do we know that the Horse has been there all that
time?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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