the diary of a goose girl-第2章
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according。〃
I did not mind at this particular juncture what I was called； so
long as the epithet was comparatively unobjectionable； so I am a
paying guest； therefore； and I expect to pay handsomely for the
handsome appellation。 Mrs。 Heaven is short and fat； she fills her
dress as a pin…cushion fills its cover； she wears a cap and apron；
and she is so full of platitudes that she would have burst had I
not appeared as a providential outlet for them。 Her accent is not
of the farm； but of the town； and smacks wholly of the marts of
trade。 She is repetitious； too； as well as platitudinous。 〃I 'ope
if there's anythink you require you will let us know； let us know；〃
she says several times each day； and whenever she enters my
sitting…room she prefaces her conversation with the remark： 〃I
trust you are finding it quiet here； miss？ It's the quietude of
the plyce that is its charm； yes； the quietude。 And yet〃 （she
dribbles on） 〃it wears on a body after a while； miss。 I often go
into Woodmucket to visit one of my sons just for the noise； simply
for the noise； miss； for nothink else in the world but the noise。
There's nothink like noise for soothing nerves that is worn
threadbare with the quietude； miss； or at least that's my
experience； and yet to a strynger the quietude of the plyce is its
charm； undoubtedly its chief charm； and that is what our paying
guests always say； although our charges are somewhat higher than
other plyces。 If there's anythink you require； miss； I 'ope you'll
mention it。 There is not a commodious assortment in Barbury Green；
but we can always send the pony to Woodmucket in case of urgency。
Our paying guest last summer was a Mrs。 Pollock； and she was by way
of having sudden fancies。 Young and unmarried though you are；
miss； I think you will tyke my meaning without my speaking plyner？
Well； at six o'clock of a rainy afternoon； she was seized with an
unaccountable desire for vegetable marrows； and Mr。 'Eaven put the
pony in the cart and went to Woodmucket for them； which is a great
advantage to be so near a town and yet 'ave the quietude。〃
Mr。 Heaven is merged； like Mr。 Jellyby； in the more shining
qualities of his wife。 A line of description is too long for him。
Indeed； I can think of no single word brief enough； at least in
English。 The Latin 〃nil〃 will do； since no language is rich in
words of less than three letters。 He is nice； kind； bald； timid；
thin； and so colourless that he can scarcely be discerned save in a
strong light。 When Mrs。 Heaven goes out into the orchard in search
of him； I can hardly help calling from my window； 〃Bear a trifle to
the right； Mrs。 Heavennow to the leftjust in front of you now
if you put out your hands you will touch him。〃
Phoebe； aged seventeen； is the daughter of the house。 She is
virtuous； industrious； conscientious； and singularly destitute of
physical charm。 She is more than plain； she looks as if she had
been planned without any definite purpose in view； made of the
wrong materials； been badly put together； and never properly
finished off； but 〃plain〃 after all is a relative word。 Many a
plain girl has been married for her beauty； and now and then a
beauty； falling under a cold eye； has been thought plain。
Phoebe has her compensations； for she is beloved by； and
reciprocates the passion of； the Woodmancote carrier； Woodmucket
being the English manner of pronouncing the place of his abode。 If
he 〃carries〃 as energetically for the great public as he fetches
for Phoebe； then he must be a rising and a prosperous man。 He
brings her daily； wild strawberries； cherries； birds' nests；
peacock feathers； sea…shells； green hazel…nuts； samples of hens'
food； or bouquets of wilted field flowers tied together tightly and
held with a large； moist； loving hand。 He has fine curly hair of
sandy hue； which forms an aureole on his brow； and a reddish beard；
which makes another inverted aureole to match； round his chin。 One
cannot look at him； especially when the sun shines through him；
without thinking how lovely he would be if stuffed and set on
wheels； with a little string to drag him about。
Phoebe confided to me that she was on the eve of loving the postman
when the carrier came across her horizon。
〃It doesn't do to be too hysty； does it； miss？〃 she asked me as we
were weeding the onion bed。 〃I was to give the postman his answer
on the Monday night； and it was on the Monday morning that Mr。
Gladwish made his first trip here as carrier。 I may say I never
wyvered from that moment； and no more did he。 When I think how
near I came to promising the postman it gives me a turn。〃 （I can
understand that； for I once met the man I nearly promised years
before to marry； and we both experienced such a sense of relief at
being free instead of bound that we came near falling in love for
sheer joy。）
The last and most important member of the household is the Square
Baby。 His name is Albert Edward； and he is really five years old
and no baby at all； but his appearance on this planet was in the
nature of a complete surprise to all parties concerned； and he is
spoiled accordingly。 He has a square head and jaw； square
shoulders； square hands and feet。 He is red and white and solid
and stolid and slow…witted； as the young of his class commonly are；
and will make a bulwark of the nation in course of time； I should
think； for England has to produce a few thousand such square babies
every year for use in the colonies and in the standing army。
Albert Edward has already a military gait； and when he has acquired
a habit of obedience at all comparable with his power of command；
he will be able to take up the white man's burden with
distinguished success。 Meantime I can never look at him without
marvelling how the English climate can transmute bacon and eggs；
tea and the solid household loaf into such radiant roses and lilies
as bloom upon his cheeks and lips。
CHAPTER III
July 8th。
Thornycroft is by way of being a small poultry farm。
In reaching it from Barbury Green； you take the first left…hand
road； go till you drop； and there you are。
It reminds me of my 〃grandmother's farm at Older。〃 Did you know
the song when you were a child？ …
My grandmother had a very fine farm
'Way down in the fields of Older。
With a cluck…cluck here；
And a cluck…cluck there；
Here and there a cluck…cluck；
Cluck…cluck here and there；
Down in the fields at Older。
It goes on for ever by the simple subterfuge of changing a few
words in each verse。
My grandmother had a very fine farm
'Way down in the fields of Older。
With a quack…quack here；
And a quack…quack there；
Here and there a quack…quack；
Quack…quack here and there；
Down in the fields at Older。
This is followed by the gobble…gobble； moo…moo； baa…baa； etc。； as
long as the laureate's imagination and the infant's breath hold
good。 The tune is pretty； and I do not know； or did not； when I
was young； a more fascinating lyric。
Thornycroft House must have belonged to a country gentleman once
upon a time； or to more than one； men who built on a bit here and
there once in a hundred years； until finally we have this
charmingly irregular and dilapidated whole。 You go up three steps
into Mrs。 Heaven's room； down two into mine； while Phoebe's is up
in a sort of turret with long； narrow lattices opening into the
creepers。 There are crooked little stair…cases； passages that
branch off into other passages and lead nowhere in particular； I
can't think of a better house in which to play hide and seek on a
wet day。 In front； what was once； doubtless； a green； is cut up
into greens； to wit； a vegetable garden； where the onions； turnips；
and potatoes grow cosily up to the very door…sill； the utilitarian
aspect of it all being varied by some scarlet…runners and a
scattering of poppies on either side of the path。
The Belgian hares have their habitation in a corner fifty feet
distant； one large enclosure for poultry lies just outside the
sweetbrier hedge； the others； with all the houses and coops； are in
the meadow at the back； where also our tumbler pigeons are kept。
Phoebe attends to the poultry； it is
