Page:Once a Week Volume V.djvu/522

 . 12, 1861.] stepped in before me, and that merry little Frenchman was the idol of the stranger’s children instead of mine.

Monsieur knew a place even more charming, a mile off. Thither we went, through a glorious old park, thickly studded with old elms and oaks, and in a picturesque corner of that park stood the pretty little house which we were in search of.

I knocked boldly at the door, and whispered enthusiastically to Thompson, “This will do, my boy.” The door opened, and there stood another perambulator, and through another open door we saw another table, laid for another large party of little people.

Then I thought I should have fainted. What comfort was it to me to know that if I had come yesterday morning I could have had the place for three months? Half a mile further on was Paradise No. 3. A smiling widow woman came to the door. On inquiry, she had not let, but a lady from London had answered an advertisement in the paper, and was coming the next day to see the rooms. I cannot express the revengeful pleasure with which I struck a bargain for two months’ possession of this good widow’s cottage, with the knowledge that the lady from London would be sold, as I had been.

Now my firm impression is that this cottage from which I am writing is situate in a parish which was either the scene of Miss Mitford’s tale of “Our Village,” or else the scene of some of those pretty little stories which Miss Edgeworth wrote. Lazy Laurence might have robbed poor Jem; or Tarlton might have robbed the Farmer’s orchard here; and Miss Mitford’s cricket match might have been played on our village green.

I say our village green advisedly, for any man who was born and bred in a country village drops into his place as naturally in a little rural parish as if he had a settlement there.

Now supposing that I had not combated the doctor’s advice, what would have been my fate? It would have cost me ten pounds to have moved my belongings to Devonshire, and five pounds to the back of the Isle of Wight, besides the expenses of running backwards and forwards myself. I should have been worried to death by the delay of the post, and been under constant fear of losing a client by my absence. On the other hand, I have accomplished all that the doctor wished, namely, change of air, scene, and mode of life, by going five-and-twenty miles from London.

I believe that amongst the hill-country near London, north, south, east, and west, there are climates which are unsurpassed in England for the softness and purity of the air, and picturesque English scenery which cannot be excelled. From the window of the cottage where I am writing this I look on a real old English village green, which is separated from me by a little garden, which is blazing with bright autumn flowers. The village green is skirted on two sides by cottages and two or three pretty villas. At the top of the green stands the village church, and the remaining side is screened by a background of grand old elms. We are shut in from all cold winds by a range of hills about half a mile distant, from the top of which there is a view extending nearly to London on one side, and to Portsmouth on the opposite side.

There has been just sufficient progress in our village to make it desirable. There are two posts a day to and from London, and I can reach my place of business in two hours from my own door, including a half-hour’s walk to the station. With the exception that the cottagers’ children are better educated, and the labourers’ better fed, paid and clothed than they were when I was a boy, everything is as primitive here as it is in Cornwall or Northumberland. The cottage, which is our home, must have been built at odd times—anyhow by anybody—without the slightest regard to architecture. It appeal’s to have been furnished on the same principle, as with the exception of the bedding (which is excellent), there is not an attempt at anything like uniformity. I don’t believe that all the chairs and tables in the house, and the druggets, which do duty for carpets, would fetch twenty pounds; the chimney-ornaments are glorious,—there is a Highland lassie in true cottage china, and a Troubadour in ditto, while a great china Mogul, with a perforated crown, does duty as a pepper-box, and his twin brother, of a similar material, does duty for a mustard-pot, by a simple process of decapitation.

In spite of the simplicity of these creature comforts, no nobleman could be better served than we are. Our kind widow—who was seventeen years in a good family, as a servant—keeps her house as clean as the best house in London; is always cheerful and attentive, and is much more honest than I am; as to my astonishment the back of a cold duck re-appeared at breakfast only yesterday morning, and I will frankly admit that if I was trusted alone with the back of a cold duck, a lodger’s chance of seeing it again would be small.

Now, I wonder if some dreary Smith or Brown will throw down this number of, on the club-table, and exclaim—“How the doose is a man to get through his time in a place like this?”

My friends—Smith and Brown—I will tell you of a new pleasure. If you have never mixed with village folks, you may—although a thorough-bred Cockney—do so even now. You must put aside all London slang and humbug, and foolish pride, and come with me, and I will introduce you to splendid company.

At the corner of the green, next to the village inn (from which they can hand the beer through the window into the smithy, and which you must stand as the new comer), is the village forge. There I will introduce you to my friend the blacksmith, who is a liberal conservative, as far as I can understand his politics. I lend him my newspapers and talk politics to him on the following morning. The sturdy Vulcans will make horse-shoes, whilst you and I—Brown or Smith—as the case may be, discuss Louis Napoleon with him, and we should hear this style of talk.

“Ah, sir [bang, bang!], my idea is [bang, bang!] that Lewis aint half so bad [bang, bang!] as he’s painted [bang, bang!]. I heer’d tell that he could shoe a boss as well as [bang, bang!] any farrier in our army.”