OCR Text |
Show SHORTOSTORY OF THE DAY WHEN VTE WElffT WALKING. Ths world was gin wrong and I tfldn't oar (or anythfog; but Violet said we would (o to Breakneck MIL and so, of course, we went. . "I .hat a day like,, this," I mM, as we emerged from town; "t keep threatening threaten-ing to rain." . "But it doesn't rain," she said, . "so what does It matter?" , Then she leaped a few raps. Violet 1 not grown up. . "I can't think why they've tarred this confounded rate," I growled, as we came to the path across the fields. ' " "We can Just as well go over the stile," she suggested. 60 we went on. "This stile Is broken," I complained at the next. "We can Easily get over the fence." Then we cams to the buttercup fields, and she gathered great handfuls. , "Don't you love the country?" she asked. .'Vs-s," I said, doubtfully; "It must be wretohed In the winter." "But," she observed, "it Isn't winter now. So what's the, use of bothering about thatT" "It's a beastly day for summer." "It will be fine tomorrow, very likely. "You are a philosopher, Violet." -"You see. I have a holiday off from school." 8 he laughed. C "When I was a boy' I liked school as well as holidays." (I didn't.) "You must have been a very silly boy," Violet prefers holidays. "That is Impudent. Violet." "Yes," she admitted, unconcernedly. "You might get me some of those long grasses. If you can reach them without falling In the ditch." At the peril of my person I reached them, while she tried to catch sticklebacks which she calls "tiddlers." "It must be very nice to be a tiddler, 1 aid. "Oh, I dare say they tJey themselves. They don't worry about things, you know." "Meaning that I do. wise miser "You did. You aren't going to any more. You always get all right by the time we cross the plank." I laughed. "You see, I am grown up," I apologised. "It must be awfully nice to be grown up. You don't have lessons to learn." "You're supposed to know all sorts of i lessons." . j "You have lots of money. X wish I had." i "And lots to do with It That makes It nice to have the money. Now, If I were rich" "What would yon do, Violet V "Lots of things. I should buy a very big house for mother, and a carriage and pair, and everything she wanted; and send Jack to college, and bay them all some presents." Her eyes glistened. Violet Vio-let Is nice to look at. "And for yourself?" "Oh, I should have a bicycle. And what would you like?" "A cheerful disposition." She shrugged her shoulders. "You will have to buy that for yourself." your-self." "The shop Is sold out." "It will have some more In a few days, when you get right well again. Now we will have lunch." 80 we had lunch among the trees on Breakneck hill, where you see around you the sea and the brown-eailed ships, and the river, and the hilsl and sheep and the valleys of corn, with a patch of beans or yellow mustard seed here and there; where the bees come humming In the doer do-er and the wind sings over the fields, and the songs of the larks come floating down 1 from the sky. . "I like," she said softly, "to hear the carta rumbling in the distance and the larks singing. Doesn't It seem as If larks must feel very happy?" "They don't know that there are such things as lark pies, you see." She opened her eyes In horror. "Oh, surely no one would!" "They do." She looked half Inclined to cry. "Eat a larkT I nodded. You haven't ever? Oh, you haven't." "No, Violet, I haven't." "And wouldn't your . . "No. I wouldn t. I'm hanged If I would!" "I think any one ought to be punished killed who would eat a thing that sang like-that," She dispatched lamb sandwiches sand-wiches In silence, until I smiled. . "What are you laughing at?" "I was thinking it Is a good job that lambs don't sing." "Lambs!" she explained ' reflectively, "were made to be eaten and larks weren't That's the difference." Then we had dessert and went to the village to get lemonade, at least that Is what Violet had. Afterward we turned down the lane by the Union, and stole laburnam blossoms from the trees beside the churchyard. They were only very little pieces. Violet apologised and thought the tenants wouldn't mind her having them. Then we went on to the cliffs and looked for a long time at the sea, and the ships, and the sky-line meeting meet-ing the sea. "Don't you fancy you can see a lot of things, right out there?" She pointed to the end of the sea. and a little bit of blue sky among the gray. "Out there," I said, "is very commonplace common-place to me. It is where the coal ships and timber ships ard corn ships come. I know, I cannot leave It to fancy." "Ah!" she said softly, "jou don't look far enough." I shook my head. If I looked for a thousand miles 1 know what I should see. "Perhaps you can see better than I," I said. "What do you see, Violet?" "I see beautiful ships," she answered, "bringing people home U their friends; people who have been abroad and made their fortunes, you know, like they do in books." "And what else?" "A lot of eea blue sea, and the sun shining and funny vessels with queer little lit-tle sails, and men Ashing for great pearls, and beautiful pink coral inlands." "Coral," I objected, "grows under the soa." "Well I can see under the sea out there." "I think once upon a time, a long while ago, I could see under the sea. too!" "Then." she went on. "there is a wonderful won-derful land, where people are always happy, hap-py, and something nice is always happening hap-pening Just wlen I look." "I wlBh I could see the place.' I said. "Perhaps you can if you look very hard." So I looked but what I saw was very different, and I knew It would never happen hap-pen any mor;. "There is farther still.'- she murmured, after a little while, "where you can t see verv plainly; where you can"t see at all, reaily. or talk about, only think. Right over there." She waed her hand into space and I looked again. .... "I don't see anything but the clouds, I said sadly. . , "Ah! Vou will If you keep on looking. She touched my arm gently. Violet is sorry when any one is sad. So she looked and looked and saw things, and saw nothing. I hadn't the child eyes! But when Violet had forgotten I thought about it: thought so much that I fell into verse, which is always an extreme ex-treme measure: THB HEART'S DIVISION. Whilst I for fear of winter drear mistrust mis-trust the sweets of June, In winter sleet my lady sweet says 'Summer 'Sum-mer will be soon!" If blue skies by glassy sea, I doubt a storm at night; On stormy dsys my isdy says. Tomorrow Tomor-row will be bright." The clouds behind cold space I find my lady says. " "Tia heaven!" But 1. vou see. am thirty-three; my lady is eleven!" |