Prev | Current Page 122 | Next

Begbie, Harold, 1871-1929

"The Bed-Book of Happiness"


He had not mounted half a mile higher when, coming to a flinty piece of
road, the poor devil lost a second shoe, and from off his other
fore-foot; I then got out of the chaise in good earnest, and, seeing a
house about a quarter of a mile to the left hand, with a great deal to
do, I prevailed upon the postillion to turn up to it. The look of the
house, and of everything about it, as we drew nearer, soon reconciled me
to the disaster. It was a little farm-house, surrounded with about
twenty acres of vineyard, about as much corn, and close to the house, on
one side, was a _potagerie_ of an acre and a half, full of everything
which could make plenty in a French peasant's house; and, on the other
side, was a little wood, which furnished wherewithal to dress it. It was
about eight in the evening when I got to the house, so I left the
postillion to manage his point as he could; and, for mine, I walked
directly into the house.
The family consisted of an old grey-bearded man and his wife, with five
or six sons and sons-in-law, and their several wives, and a joyous
genealogy out of them.
They were all sitting down together to their lentil-soup, a large
wheaten loaf was in the middle of the table, and a flagon of wine at
each end of it promised joy through the stages of the repast; 'twas a
feast of love.


Pages:
110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134