She Advised Me To Take A Small Boat And Have A Sail On
Lough Gill, For I Would Always Regret It If I Did Not See Its Beauty
When I Had The Opportunity.
In her excessive kindness she introduced me
to a river maiden, strong and comely, who would row me about with all
kindness for a small consideration.
Prudently discovered what the
consideration was to be, and then gave in to the arrangement.
The water nymph had been away gathering sticks; she had to empty her
boat and I waited a little impatiently, a little ruefully. The boat was
big, clumsy and leaky, but the girl was eloquent and eager to persuade
me it was a fast and comfortable boat. She produced an ancient cushion
from somewhere; there was a clumsy getting on board, and she pushed off.
We went sailing down among the swans, the coots and the rushes, and
passed little tree-laden islands, hooped with stone wall for fear they
might be washed away. The sun shone pleasantly, the swans floated on
majestically, or solemnly dived for our pleasure, the coots skimmed
about knowing well we had not often enjoyed the pleasure of watching
them. The grand woods that encompass the residence of Wynne of Hazelwood
spread out over many, many acres, caught the sunlight on one side. The
broad green meadows of Captain Wood Martin lying among the trees looked
like visions of Eden on the other. My river maiden discovered to me a
swan's nest among the reeds; told me stories of the fierceness of
brooding swans, and offered to get me a swan's egg for a curiosity,
nevertheless.
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