The Scouring of the White Horse

e up in the four-wheel. I was very anxious to find out, if I could, whether there was any thing more between him and Miss Lucy than friendship, but it wasn’t at all an easy matter. First I began s

perfectly well bred; not above making good puddings and preserves, and proud of the name her brother’s cheeses had won in the market, yet not negligent of other matters, such as the schools, and her garden; never going into follies of dress in imitation of weak women who ought to set better examples, yet having a proper appreciation of her own go

umping in sacks, which was substituted for climbing the pole, and was very good fun), I shall not give any further account of t

were all very merry, and had another charming evening. I couldn’t tell what had come to me when I got up stairs alone by myself, for I seemed as if a new life were growing up in me, and I were getting

I did, and spent all their salaries instead of saving. Except those two, I knew nobody; and though I belonged to a debating society, it wasn’t that I cared for the members, or what they talked about, but that I thought it might be useful to me to talk fluently if I got on in business. Sometimes, and especially in my yearly holidays, I had felt as if I wanted something else, and that my way of life was after all rather a one-eyed sort of business; but I set all such misgivings down as delusions, and had never allowed them long to trouble me. In short I begin to suspect that I must have

d men whom he had promised to show me, who could tell me about the old pastimes. I never liked any thing so much as these walks—not even the walks I afterwards used to have alone with Miss Lucy, for they were too exciting, and half the time I was in such a fret that I couldn’t thoroughly enjoy them. But the

ver my notes of the old gentleman’s[253] story, and couldn’t make it agree with the tales which I had rea

lfred was in the cowherd’s cottage in the

red’s greatest victory; and Ashdown was fought in 871. Now it seems very odd

lain it to you, but I’m pretty sure you’ll find I’m right abou

don’t think I need print that, because his ans

ptember

Our post is somewhat behind the times, and I know of hardly any town or village[254] from which a

878 that Alfred was deserted by his nobles and people after the battle of Chippenham, which was a drawn battle. Then he fled to the Isla

ke-aks mun, and do

’em vast enough, zo z

kingdom of Wessex. I think that the following passage from Asser’s ‘Life of Alfred’

ts. This particular gave much pain to the holy man, St. Neot, who was his kinsman; and often foretold to him in the spirit of prophecy that he would suffer great adversity on this account; but Alfred neither attended to the reproof of the man of God, nor listened to his true prophecy—wherefore seeing that a man’s sins must be correct

of cities and slaying of the people, honourably rebuilt the city of London and made it again habitable, and gave it into the custody of his son-in-law, ?thelred, Earl of Mercia; to whi

years of his reign. But they were never subdued by the Danes,—so that my statement which you quo

cretary of the Antiquaries’ Society; you will find it to be well worth a careful perusal. I shall be always glad to hear from you upon the subjects on which we ha

—

y believed whatever he said to me. We used to get home by about twelve o’clock, and then I would go away by myself, and think over what we had been talking about till dinner. And, after dinner, Miss Lucy, and sometimes Joe, would come out and walk with us till tea. Sometimes we went to the villag

him in town, and added he had no doubt I should come, for he coul

n his life. I found it was no use to struggle any longer, and gave myself up[258] to the stream, with all sails set. Now there is no easier thing than go

think she half liked it, for she was generally in a very old gown tucked through her pocket holes, and pattens. Then after breakfast I used to hanker round the kitchen, or still-room, or wherever she might happen

near her while I could; and on the whole, I think she was pleased,

. I got Joe to lend me the key of the cupboard where he kept his library, hoping to find something to suit me there. But, besides a few old folios of divinity and

to Farringdon or Didcot markets; but he soon got used to it, and put it down to my cockney bringing u

re were any but kind and hospitable and amusing people in the Vale, for the longer I stayed there, the more I was astonished at the k

n Jack made his peace with me. Only two days before my departure, Miss Lucy gave out at breakfast that she was going to walk over t

e hounds, and whose father used to run with them regularly. Then he began to inquire about me in a patronizing way; how I came to know Joe, what I was, and where I lived. And when he had satisfied his curiosity about me, he took to talking about his[261] cousins. Joe, I soon found out, was his hero; and he looked forward to the time when he should be able to breed a good horse, like Joe’s chestnut, and to go about to all the markets and carry his head as high as any one, as Joe could

it had been any other day. What a number of things I had in my head that morning to say to all of them, and above all to her; but one thing or another interfered, and I had said not one quarter of them, and the

ch, and waked up all sorts of recollections of her own travels; particularly how, when she was a child, she had been a whole day getting to Reading by the stage, and how, even after her marriage, she and father had had to sleep at Windsor, on the occasion of their o

n as usual; and I, in a place where I could see her, and watch every turn of her figure, and hear every breath she drew. I own I didn’t listen to a word that Joe read—I couldn’t—and I don’t believe any poor fellow in my state will ever be hardly judged, whatever square-toed people may say, for not forcing himself to attend when he h

oe dived off into the recess; and she lighted her candle and came up to me,

he last time, I couldn’t let it go. So I stood holding it, my heart beating so that I couldn’t speak, and

and leading a slave of a life in the midst of the great crowd, with all sorts of temptations to go wrong. You’ll let me think of you, and Elm Close, and it will be like a little bright window with the sun

ly, “but, indeed, I’m sure we shall think of you quite as often as you will of us. Joe used to talk so often about you

oe, coming out of the recess, where he had been rummaging o

at his word. But I’m glad I didn’t; I’m sure I was right, for I stole a look at her, and saw that she looked vexed, and flushed up to her bright brown hair. Next moment she held out her hand again, and s

ave, and the doubt whether I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the last with Miss Lucy, I f

2

nd began lighting his pipe, I kept standing lo

, puffing away, “on the settle—why

ight, Joe,” said I, “you ough

I could hardly keep from laughing, angry as I was; “what

u’ve done, but w

d? Precious little I know, for you

just now to me and

ne of his great laughs. “Oh, I take—well, that’s too much! To be blown

made the means of giving

2

don’t mean any thing down in these parts. Well, I’m very sorry. She’ll never think twice about i

he last night; so I took my pipe, and filled it, and sat down opposite him, and he began to

mind you, we shall always be glad to see you here when you can come

I’ve ever been in,”

me down in the winter or the spring; but I didn’t listen much, for I was making u

2

a moment, and I thought,

Joe, is your sister

p rather surprised; “why, she’

hink of Mr. Wa

he has got a sweetheart of his own. Let alone that

your sister isn’t like mo

oe, “he’s no more in love

I, and I looked straight across at him, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do

g. But I wasn’t going to look down just then; if[269] he had looked me right through he couldn’t have found any thing I was ashamed o

k a turn or two up and down

her, yet

id I, “I

out his, and looking quite bright again; “I knew y

, Joe,” said I, “I don’t d

ot?” s

only one little thing or another stopped it. But I’m v

ain, and staring into the fire, “it’s a precious

peech—“that I’m[270] not in the same position you are in, and that you’v

her getting a’most blind, and ’mazing forgetful-like about every thing. Who’s to read her her chapter, or to find her spectacles? and what in the world’s to become of the keys? I

so coolly, and particularly that he seemed not to be

kick down a matter o’ six pail o’ milk a week, I’ll warrant. And the poultry, too; there’s that drattl’d old galleeny’ll be learning the Spanish hens to lay astray

ld think we were going to be marr

married, don’t you?”

see, I should like to have a tidy plac

e, as if a new light had suddenly struck him; and then h

ou don’t seem to mind my being

course,” said he, “so I won’t tell a lie about it, Dick. Put that out of the way, and I’d

2

to your sister directly and tell her, and I hope you won’t

said Joe, “’pend upon it, a good-b

g away to-night, you know, and if I don’t wri

give me and mother a year to turn round in from n

istmas year is the earliest ti

p with me for Christmas cattle-show, and you can get us lodgings, and show us some of the sig

couldn’t say a w

2

only if any thing goes wrong—you understand,” said Jo

of the young farmers now, that I saw on the

ese next two months. Besides, I’ll lo

mind, Joe, that you

the fire again; and I sat thinking too, and wonder

; “suppose Lu says yes, what have

I had saved, and where I had put it out, and

get[274] back to London; he’s an out-and-outer, and worth more than all the chaps at that jawing shop of yours put together. The

should wish all her fort

be some sort of tying-up done for the children. So I

tter wait till afte

if you get married, Lu can never live in those dirty, dark streets, and you away all day; sh

the Great Northern line. It’s a very pretty place, and only five minutes’ walk from a

2

￡100 or so, to finish it off as should

I, “but I think

” said he, looking up again presently fr

it was all quite certain; it makes me feel uncom

n in no time. Once a young gal gets a follower it’s all over, so fur as I see; though

a queer fellow he was, and how I had better let things rest as they were, for I couldn’t see how to handle him the least bit in the world

k off the last drop out of his tumbler, and the

” said he, “there’s n

be done? Don’t look so sole

f into the passage, and came back with his whip and two top-coats. “Here, you ge

hick as a deal board, with double seams and mother-of-pearl buttons as

mper in?” said he,

ir, all

up,

iet. It was bright moonlight, and a streak of white mist lay along the Close. I could hear nothing but the soft crush of the wheels on the rich sward, and the breathing of the great cows as we passed them in the mist. But my heart was beating l

oe, looking round, after we had gone about

ore like crying, and I thought he w

78] a lot of heifers, or a flock of sheep. Besides, if a chap does get the blind side of me, it’s maybe a ten-pound note lost, and there’s an end of it. But when you come to choosing a missus, why, it seems like jumping in the dar

m not a bit afraid about getting

one would think, Dick, that nob

the time; and for the rest of the drive we were merry enough, for he went on talking

x minutes nearly before the train was due,

ir?” said he to

2

,” I answered,

behind there. And take care to keep it right side

can I look after it, and t

et you go back without some of their kickshaws; and I’ve had a hare and a coup

the thoughtful kindness of my Vale friends, and wrung Jo

way down at last, and now, don’t forget it;” and he gave me a grip which nearly c

ed out, and was beginning to take i

2

etch it at Christmas, and the hamper and the jam pots too, at the same time. Lu will be sure to look

cels go safer with only the railway label on them.

ch was in her handwriting, and had quite forgotten Jo

velling;” and so, with a cheery good-bye to me, off he drove along the dark road; an

g the first stages of that night journey, and I opened the window and leant out into the rushing night air, for the carriage was too small for me, and my grand visions and resolves. But soon it began to feel cold, and I shut up the window and squeezed myself into a corner with my feet up on the opposite seat, and felt very thankful that I had on Joe’s great coat. Then the lamp went out, and it got colder as the dawn came on, and my visions and resolves began to get less bright and firm. The other side of the picture rose up in ugly colours, and I thought of the dirty dark clerks’ room, and the hours of oil-lamps and bad air, and the heartless whirl and din of the great city. And[282] to crown all came the more than

t, thank God for that, and every word I ever heard her speak, and every smile I ever saw light up her merry eyes or dimple round[283] her mouth—and the country, too, the fair rich Vale, and the glorious old Hill, they are mine for ever, and all the memories of the slaying of dr

e guard put his head in to say we stopped for

nd stamped about the platform till the train started. And w

with me along the Ridgeway; then I was the leader of the Berkshire old gamesters, playing out the last tie with a highwayman, for a gold-laced hat and pair of buckskin breeches; then I was married—I needn’t say to whom—and we were keeping house under the Hill, and waiting tea for St. George, when he should come down from killing the Dragon. And so it went on, till at last a mist came over the Hill, and all the figures got fainter and fainter, and seemed to be fading away. But as they faded, I could see one great figure comin

hey all come to me at last, and I garner them away, and their place knows them no more!”—so the figure seemed

is great neighbour, but rested there where he was placed; and his face was quiet, and full of life, as he gazed steadily and earnestly through the mist. And the other figures came flitting by again, and chanted as they passed, “The work of one

2

five minutes, I was in a cab, with my bag and the great basket of country treasures, creeping along in