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.
Remarking to her that Captain Wood Martin kept his grounds locked up
very carefully; enquired what should happen if we drew ashore and landed
on his tabooed domain. The water maiden said one of his men would turn
us out. Enquired if he was a good landlord. "Oh, sure he has ne'er a
tenant at all at all on his whole place; it does be all grazing land. He
takes cattle to graze. He charges L2 a year for a yearling and L5 a year
for a four-year-old, and he has cattle of his own on it." How do you
know the price? "Sure I read it on the handbills posted up."
Looking at the other side of the glorious lake, at the long thicket of
trees that shades the demesne that Wynne of Hazelwood keeps for his home
and glory, stretching over miles of country; saw the little grey
rabbits, more precious than men in my native land, that were hopping
along, after their manner, quite a little procession of them, at the
edge of the bush; and said, "What kind of a landlord does Wynne of
Hazelwood make?" "Is it Mr. Wynne, ma'am? Oh, then, sure it's him that
is the good landlord and the good man out and out. He is a good man, a
very good man, and no mistake." "Why, what makes you think him such a
good man?" "Because he never does a mane or durty action; he's a
gentleman entirely." "Come now, you tell me what he does not do; if you
want me to believe in your Mr. Wynne, tell me some good thing he has
done." "I can soon do that, ma'am," said my water maiden. "Last winter
was a hard winter; the work was scarce, and the poor people would have
starved for want of fire but for Mr. Wynne of Hazelwood." "He let you
gather sticks in his woods, then?" "He did more than that; he cut down
trees on purpose for the people, and we drew them over the ice, for the
lough was frozen over. We had no fire in our house all last winter, and
it was a cold one, but what we got that way from Mr. Wynne." Mr. Wynne's
eloquent advocate rowed along the lake close in shore, for fear of any
doubt resting on my mind, and showed the stumps of the trees, cut very
close to the ground, a great many of them indeed, as a proof of Mr.
Wynne's thoughtful generosity.
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