Having Passed It And Got To The End Of The Village, We Turned
And Walked Back, Still Making Vain Inquiries,
Passing it
again, and when once more at the starting-point we were in
despair when we spied a man
Coming along the middle of the
road and went out to meet him to ask the weary question for
the last time. His appearance was rather odd as he came
towards us on that blowy March evening with dust and straws
flying past and the level sun shining full on him. He
was tall and slim, with a large round smooth face and big
pale-blue innocent-looking eyes, and he walked rapidly but in
a peculiar jerky yet shambling manner, swinging and tossing
his legs and arms about. Moving along in this disjointed
manner in his loose fluttering clothes he put one in mind of
a big flimsy newspaper blown along the road by the wind.
This unpromising-looking person at once told us that there was
a place where we could stay; he knew it well, for it happened
to be his father's house and his own home. It was away at the
other end of the village. His people had given accommodation
to strangers before, and would be glad to receive us and make
us comfortable.
Surprised, and a little doubtful of our good fortune, I asked
my young man if he could explain the fact that so many of his
neighbours had assured us that no accommodation was to be had
in the village except at the inn. He did not make a direct
reply. He said that the ways of the villagers were not the
ways of his people. He and all his house cherished only kind
feelings towards their neighbours; whether those feelings were
returned or not, it was not for him to say. And there was
something else. A small appointment which would keep a man
from want for the term of his natural life, without absorbing
all his time, had become vacant in the village. Several of
the young men in the place were anxious to have it; then he,
too, came forward as a candidate, and all the others jeered at
him and tried to laugh him out of it. He cared nothing for
that, and when the examination came off he proved the best man
and got the place. He had fought his fight and had overcome
all his enemies; if they did not like him any the better for
his victory, and did and said little things to injure him, he
did not mind much, he could afford to forgive them.
Having finished his story, he said good-bye, and went his way,
blown, as it were, along the road by the wind.
We were now very curious to see the other members of his
family; they would, we imagined, prove amusing, if nothing
better. They proved a good deal better. The house we sought,
for a house it was, stood a little way back from the street
in a large garden. It had in former times been an inn, or
farm-house, possibly a manor-house, and was large, with
many small rooms, and short, narrow, crooked staircases,
half-landings and narrow passages, and a few large rooms,
their low ceilings resting on old oak beams, black as ebony.
Outside, it was the most picturesque and doubtless the oldest
house in the village; many-gabled, with very tall ancient
chimneys, the roofs of red tiles mottled grey and yellow with
age and lichen. It was a surprise to find a woodman - for that
was what the man was - living in such a big place. The woodman
himself, his appearance and character, gave us a second and
greater surprise. He was a well-shaped man of medium height;
although past middle life he looked young, and had no white
thread in his raven-black hair and beard. His teeth were
white and even, and his features as perfect as I have seen in
any man. His eyes were pure dark blue, contrasting rather
strangely with his pale olive skin and intense black hair.
Only a woodman, but he might have come of one of the oldest
and best families in the country, if there is any connection
between good blood and fine features and a noble expression.
Oddly enough, his surname was an uncommon and aristocratic
one. His wife, on the other hand, although a very good woman
as we found, had a distinctly plebeian countenance. One day
she informed us that she came of a different and better class
than her husband's. She was the daughter of a small
tradesman, and had begun life as a lady's-maid: her husband
was nothing but a labourer; his people had been labourers for
generations, consequently her marriage to him had involved a
considerable descent in the social scale. Hearing this, it
was hard to repress a smile.
The contrast between this man and the ordinary villager of his
class was as great in manners and conversation as in features
and expression. His combined dignity and gentleness, and
apparent unconsciousness of any caste difference between man
and man, were astonishing in one who had been a simple toiler
all his life.
There were some grown-up children, others growing up, with
others that were still quite small. The boys, I noticed,
favoured their mother, and had commonplace faces; the girls
took after their father, and though their features were not so
perfect they were exceptionally good-looking. The eldest son
- the disjointed, fly-away-looking young man who had conquered
all his enemies - had a wife and child. The eldest daughter
was also married, and had one child. Altogether the three
families numbered about sixteen persons, each family having
its separate set of rooms, but all dining at one table.
How did they do it? It seemed easy enough to them. They were
serious people in a sense, although always cheerful and
sometimes hilarious when together of an evening, or at their
meals.
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