our village-第20部分
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the winding waters into a sweet peaceful landscape of quiet meadows； shut in by distant woods。 What a fragrance is in the air from the balmy fir trees and the blossomed limes！ What an intensity of odour！ And what a murmur of bees in the lime trees！ What a coil those little winged people make over our heads！ And what a pleasant sound it is！ the pleasantest of busy sounds； that which comes associated with all that is good and beautifulindustry and forecast； and sunshine and flowers。 Surely these lime trees might store a hundred hives； the very odour is of a honeyed richness； cloying； satiating。
Emily exclaimed in admiration as we stood under the deep； strong； leafy shadow； and still more when honeysuckles trailed their untrimmed profusion in our path； and roses； really trees； almost intercepted our passage。
'On； Emily！ farther yet！ Force your way by that jessamineit will yield； I will take care of this stubborn white rose bough。''Take care of yourself！ Pray take care；' said my fairest friend； 'let me hold back the branches。' After we had won our way through the strait； at some expense of veils and flounces； she stopped to contemplate and admire the tall； graceful shrub； whose long thorny stems； spreading in every direction； had opposed our progress； and now waved their delicate clusters over our heads。 'Did I ever think；' exclaimed she； 'of standing under the shadow of a white rose tree！ What an exquisite fragrance！ And what a beautiful flower！ so pale； and white； and tender； and the petals thin and smooth as silk！ What rose is it？''Don't you know？ Did you never see it before？ It is rare now； I believe； and seems rarer than it is； because it only blossoms in very hot summers； but this； Emily； is the musk rose；that very musk rose of which Titania talks； and which is worthy of Shakspeare and of her。 Is it not？No！ do not smell to it； it is less sweet so than other roses； but one cluster in a vase； or even that bunch in your bosom； will perfume a large room； as it does the summer air。''Oh！ we will take twenty clusters；' said Emily。 'I wish grandmamma were here！ She talks so often of a musk rose tree that grew against one end of her father's house。 I wish she were here to see this！'
Echoing her wish； and well laden with musk roses； planted perhaps in the days of Shakspeare； we reached the steps that led to a square summer…house or banqueting…room； overhanging the river： the under part was a boat…house； whose projecting roof； as well as the walls and the very top of the little tower； was covered with ivy and woodbine； and surmounted by tufted barberries； bird cherries； acacias； covered with their snowy chains； and other pendent and flowering trees。 Beyond rose two poplars of unrivalled magnitude； towering like stately columns over the dark tall firs； and giving a sort of pillared and architectural grandeur to the scene。
We were now close to the mansion； but it looked sad and desolate； and the entrance； choked with brambles and nettles； seemed almost to repel our steps。 The summer…house； the beautiful summer…house； was free and open； and inviting； commanding from the unglazed windows； which hung high above the water； a reach of the river terminated by a rustic mill。
There we sat； emptying our little basket of fruit and country cakes； till Emily was seized with a desire of viewing； from the other side of the Loddon； the scenery which had so much enchanted her。 'I must；' said she； 'take a sketch of the ivied boat…house； and of this sweet room； and this pleasant window；grandmamma would never be able to walk from the road to see the place itself； but she must see its likeness。' So forth we sallied； not forgetting the dear musk roses。
We had no way of reaching the desired spot but by retracing our steps a mile； during the heat of the hottest hour of the day； and then following the course of the river to an equal distance on the other side； nor had we any materials for sketching； except the rumpled paper which had contained our repast； and a pencil without a point which I happened to have about me。 But these small difficulties are pleasures to gay and happy youth。 Regardless of such obstacles； the sweet Emily bounded on like a fawn； and I followed delighting in her delight。 The sun went in； and the walk was delicious； a reviving coolness seemed to breathe over the water； wafting the balmy scent of the firs and limes； we found a point of view presenting the boat…house； the water； the poplars； and the mill； in a most felicitous combination； the little straw fruit basket made a capital table； and refreshed and sharpened and pointed by our trusty lacquey's excellent knife （your country boy is never without a good knife； it is his prime treasure）； the pencil did double duty；first in the skilful hands of Emily； whose faithful and spirited sketch does equal honour to the scene and to the artist； and then in the humbler office of attempting a faint transcript of my own impressions in the following sonnet：
It was an hour of calmest noon； at day Of ripest summer： o'er the deep blue sky White speckled clouds came sailing peacefully； Half…shrouding in a chequer'd veil the ray Of the sun； too ardent else；what time we lay By the smooth Loddon； opposite the high Steep bank； which as a coronet gloriously Wore its rich crest of firs and lime trees； gay With their pale tassels； while from out a bower Of ivy （where those column'd poplars rear Their heads） the ruin'd boat…house； like a tower； Flung its deep shadow on the waters clear。 My Emily！ forget not that calm hour； Nor that fair scene； by thee made doubly dear！
THE HARD SUMMER。
August 15th。Cold； cloudy； windy； wet。 Here we are； in the midst of the dog…days； clustering merrily round the warm hearth like so many crickets； instead of chirruping in the green fields like that other merry insect the grasshopper； shivering under the influence of the Jupiter Pluvius of England； the watery St。 Swithin； peering at that scarce personage the sun； when he happens to make his appearance； as intently as astronomers look after a comet； or the common people stare at a balloon； exclaiming against the cold weather； just as we used to exclaim against the warm。 'What a change from last year！' is the first sentence you hear； go where you may。 Everybody remarks it； and everybody complains of it； and yet in my mind it has its advantages； or at least its compensations； as everything in nature has； if we would only take the trouble to seek for them。
Last year； in spite of the love which we are now pleased to profess towards that ardent luminary； not one of the sun's numerous admirers had courage to look him in the face： there was no bearing the world till he had said 'Good…night' to it。 Then we might stir： then we began to wake and to live。 All day long we languished under his influence in a strange dreaminess； too hot to work； too hot to read； too hot to write； too hot even to talk； sitting hour after hour in a green arbour； embowered in leafiness； letting thought and fancy float as they would。 Those day…dreams were pretty things in their way； there is no denying that。 But then； if one half of the world were to dream through a whole summer； like the sleeping Beauty in the wood； what would become of the other？
The only office requiring the slightest exertion； which I performed in that warm weather； was watering my flowers。 Common sympathy called for that labour。 The poor things withered； and faded； and pined away； they almost； so to say； panted for draught。 Moreover； if I had not watered them myself； I suspect that no one else would； for water last year was nearly as precious hereabout as wine。 Our land…springs were dried up； our wells were exhausted； our deep ponds were dwindling into mud； and geese； and ducks； and pigs； and laundresses； used to look with a jealous and suspicious eye on the few and scanty half…buckets of that impure element； which my trusty lacquey was fain to filch for my poor geraniums and campanulas and tuberoses。 We were forced to smuggle them in through my faithful adherent's territories； the stable； to avoid lectures within doors and at last even that resource failed； my garden； my blooming garden； the joy of my eyes； was forced to go waterless like its neighbours； and became shrivelled； scorched； and sunburnt； like them。 It really went to my heart to look at it。
On the other side of the house matters were still worse。 What a dusty world it was； when about sunset we became cool enough to creep into it！ Flowers in the court looking fit for a 'hortus siccus；' mummies of plants； dried as in an oven； hollyhocks； once pink； turned into Quakers； cloves smelling of dust。 Oh； dusty world！ May herself looked of that complexion； so did Lizzy； so did all the houses； windows； chickens； children； trees； and pigs in the village； so above all did the shoes。 No foot could make three plunges into that abyss of pulverised gravel； which had the impudence to call itself a hard road； without being clothed with a coat a quarter of an inch thick。 Woe to white gowns！ woe to black！ Drab was your only wear。
Then； when we were out of the street； what a toil it was to mount the hill； climbing with weary steps and slow upon the brown turf by the wayside； slippery； hot； and hard as a rock！ And then if we happened to meet a carriage coming along the middle of the road； the bottomless middle；what a sandy whirlwind it was！ What choking！ what suffocation！ No state could be more pitiable； except indeed that of the travellers who carried this misery about with them。 I shall never forget the plight in which we met the coach one evening in last August； full an hour after its time； steeds and driver； carriage and passengers； all one dust。 The outsides； and the horses； and the coachman； seemed reduced to a torpid quietness； the resignation of despair。 They had left off trying to better their condition； and taken refuge in a wise and patient hopelessness； bent to endure in silence the extremity of ill。 The six insides； on the contrary； were still fighting against their fate； vainly struggling to ameliorate their hapless destiny。 They were visibly grumbling at the weather； scolding at
