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)
“Barkshire men, vrom Hill and Vale,
All as ever hears this tale,
If to spwoort you be inclined,
Plaze to bear this here in mind--
Pegs beant made no race to win,
Be zhart o’ wind, and tight o’ skin,
Dwont’ee hunt ’em, but instead
At backswyrd break each other’s yead
Cheezes down the manger rowl--
Or try and clim the greasy powl.
“Pegs! in stubble yeard and stye,
May you be never zard like I,
Nor druv wi greasy ears and tail,
By men and bwoys drough White Horse Vale.”
[29] “Scawt”--to get up.
[30] “File”--a fall.
[31] “Sinkers”--stockings without feet.
[32] “Cham”--“I am,” a form still used in parts of Somersetshire.
[33] “Oo’lt”--wilt thou.
[34] “Cluttery”--pelting with rain.
[35] “Vorights”--opposite.
CHAPTER VII.
Master George slipped away from me somehow, after the pig-race, so I
strolled up into the Castle again. The sports were all over, so the
theatres and shows were making a greater noise than ever, but I didn’t
feel inclined to go to any of them, and kept walking slowly round the
bank on the opposite side, and looking down at the fair. In a minute
or two I heard cheering, and saw an open carriage, with postilions,
driving out of the Castle, and three or four young ladies and a
gentleman or two cantering along with it. I watched them for some way
across the downs, and thought how nice it must be to be able to ride
well, and to have nice horses to go galloping over the springy downs,
into the golden sunset, putting up the larks and beautiful little
wheatears; and, besides all that, to have all the people cheering one
too! So down I went into the crowd, to find out who they were. It was
Lord Craven and his party, the first man I came across told me; and
then I quite understood why this carriage should be the only one to
come inside the Castle, and why the people should cheer; because, you
see, the White Horse, and Dragon’s Hill, and the Manger, all belong to
him, and he is very good-natured in letting everybody go there and do
pretty much what they please. There were other carriages going off now
from the row outside, and coachmen bringing up their horses to harness,
and a few of the foot people who came from the longest distances,
starting along the Ridgeway, or down the Uffington Road. I was standing
watching all this, and thinking how I was to find my party, and whether
I should go behind in the four-wheel (which I began to feel very much
inclined to do, for I was getting tired, and it would be dark), when I
saw Joe bustling about amongst the crowd, and looking out for some one;
so I made across to him.
“Ah, there you are,” said he, as soon as he caught sight of me, “I’ve
been hunting for you; it’s all over for to-day. Lu sent me after you
to come and have some tea. If you like, you can go home directly
afterwards with her and Mr. Warton.”
I was much pleased to hear that Miss Lucy had sent after me, but I
didn’t want to show it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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