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)
I jumped up before Jack, who hardly moved, and ran off to fetch the
milk; for which she gave me a pleasant smile when I came back, and I
felt better pleased, and enjoyed the tea and cake and bread and butter,
and all the talk over it, very much; except that I couldn’t stand this
Jack, who was forcing her to notice him every minute, by stealing her
teaspoon or her cake, or making some of his foolish remarks.
The sun set splendidly before we had finished, and it began to get a
little chilly.
“Well,” said Joe, jumping up, “I’m off to get the horse put to. You’d
better be starting, Lu; you won’t be down hill much before dark, now,
and there’s no moon--worse luck.”
“Very well,” said she, taking up her bonnet, and putting it on; “we
shall be ready in five minutes.”
“You’ll go behind with them, I suppose,” said Joe to me.
“I’m to have a seat, mind,” struck in that odious Jack; “Lucy promised
me that an hour ago.” I could have given him a good kick; however, I
don’t think I showed that I was put out.
“How can you tell such fibs, Jack?” said she; but I didn’t take any
notice of that.
“Thank you, I wish to stay on the hill,” said I. “Besides, the
four-wheel will be full without me.”
She didn’t seem to hear; and began talking to one of the other girls.
“But how are you to get down?” said Joe.
“Oh, I can walk,” said I, “or ride behind you.”
“Very good, if you like,” said he; “the chestnut would carry six, if
her back was long enough;” and away he went to get the four-wheel ready.
We followed; Miss Lucy sticking close to her friend, and never saying
a word to any of us. I walked with Mr. Warton, who was in the highest
spirits, looking over his shoulder, and raving about the green tints in
the sunset.
When we got to the carriages, there was kissing and shaking of hands,
and the rest went off, while the parson and Miss Lucy packed into the
front seat, and Jack and Jem the carter-boy into the hind seat of the
four-wheel; and away they drove, wishing us “good night.” I watched
them for some time, and could see Jack leaning forward close to her
ear; and turned back with Joe into the Castle, more out of sorts than I
had been since I left London.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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