The Idle Thoughts of An Idle Fellow

nted to hit upon anespecially novel, out-of

went about fordays, trying to think of something of this kind; and I couldn't. AndMrs. Cutting, our charwoman, came yesterday--I don't mind mentioningher name, because I know she will not

ll come upon the world in the nature of astartler--some subject upon which no previous human being has eversaid a word--some

artfully at a dinner-party. I forget how exactly, but we had beentalking about the attitude of Shakespeare toward the Reformation, andI said something and immediately added, "Ah, that reminds me; su

thejoke?"I assured them that it was, and they were very polite and took my wordfor it. All but one old gentleman at the ot

hatwhat you were going to say would not be amusing. Unless you got himto clearly understand this, he would go off into fits of merrimentover every word you uttered. I have known him on being aske

utting for practical ideas. She thenbecame thoughtful and hazarded "samplers;" saying that she

along while, with a tea-tray in her hands, and at last suggest

I have been unable to get theweather

is so now atthe time I am writing, and if it isn't parti

other and wish itwould make up its mind. If it is fine we say the country is beingruined for want of rain; if it does rain we pray for fine weather. IfDecember passes without snow, we indignantly demand to know what hasbecome of our good old-fashio

ged, we would rather do

falling big withmystery in silent softness, decking the fields and trees with white asif for a fairy wedding! And how delightful is a walk when the frozenground rings beneath ou

s the swaying ice,making whirring music as we fly. A

nd white, like villagemaidens in their Sunday frocks, hide each whitewashed cottage in acloud of fragile splendor; and the cuckoo's note upon the breeze iswafted through the

its blood-red sunsets and its ghostly evening mists,with its busy murmur of reapers,

und doing their simple duties in the country; and the East Windhimself is no

brings slush and mud, and the snow lies piled indirty heaps, and the chill blasts whistle

country lass anddoes not appear to advantage in town. We liked well enough to flirtwith her in the hay-field, but she does not seem so fascinating whenwe meet her in Pall Mall. There is

essant rain forabout three weeks; and I am a demned

himself in the light of an agriculturist, and talks inthis absurd way with the idea of impressing the rest of the terracewith the notion that he is a retired farmer. I can only hope that forthis once he is correct, and that the weather really is doing good tosomething, because it is

l suit it was, and now itis hanging up so be

on whenhe came in. He threw up his arms with a wild yell the moment becaught sight of it, and exclaimed that he had "got 'em

the public. Each one should contribute to thegeneral happiness as far as lies in his power. Come out and give thegirls a treat."Jim is slangy. I don't k

It was a lovely e

eet in hot water and a mustard-plaster on my chest, had a basin ofgruel

ngconstitution, were the means of preserving my life; but as

ppens to it. I had a tame rat when I was a boy, and Iloved that animal as only a boy would love an old water-rat; and oneday it fell into a larg

smothered by it. It all comes ofbeing so attractive, as the old lady said when she was struck bylightning. Other people can go out on dirty days and walk about forhours without getting a speck upon themselves; while if I go acrossthe ro

fit all. Everything goes wrong in wet weather. I don't know how itis, but there always seem to me to be more people, and dogs, andperambulators, and cabs, and carts about in wet weather than at anyother time, and they all get in your way more, and everybody is sodisa

her that I can't bear,and that is April weath

d jolly, and boisterous, and silent,and passionate, and cold, and stand-offish, and flopping, all in oneminute (mind, I don't say this. It is those poets. And they aresupposed to be connoisseurs of this sort of thing); but in the weatherthe disadvantages of the system are more apparent. A woman's tears donot make one wet, but the rain does; and her coldness does not lay thefoundations of asthma and rheumatism, as the east wind is apt to. Ican prepare for and put up with a regularly bad day, but thes

once in April, and I d

nt into a shop in the Strand a

I should like one that would keep the rain off, and that wo

maton,'" said

'automato

at season every alternate five minutes, I used totry and get the machine to open, but it would not budge; and then Iused to stand and struggle with the wretched thing, and shake it, andswear at it, while the rain poured down in torrents. Then the momentthe r

d so unexpectedly and

n suddenly becoming aware that one's head is bare is among the mostbitter ills that flesh is heir to. And then there is the wild chaseafter it, accompanied by an excitable small dog, who thinks it is ag

o the arms o

tors and thedisreputable appearance of the hat

most certainly ought to beabolished. In the world's grim workshops it is like the children--outof place. Neither shows to advantage amid the dust and din. It seemsso sad to see the little dirt-grimed brats try to play in the noisycourts an

ngsbut its cold winds and drizzling rains. We must seek it among theleafless woods and the brambly lanes, on the heathy moors and th

round us, seems bigger, and wider, and freer--a rainbowroad leading to unknown ends. Through the silvery rents that bar thesky we seem to catch a glimp

o not understand are

Butwe do not comprehend their meaning yet, and the hidden echoe

now not what. Our thoughts, like the boys' thoughts in the Danishsong

-that two and two makefour-that when we are hungry it is pleasant to eat--that honesty isthe best policy; all greater thoughts are undefined and vast to ourpoor chil