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第56章

madam how and lady why(豪夫人和怀女士)-第56章

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this。 

     Then there is a crack which we can get through? 

     Look and see。 

     Why; we are coming to a regular wall of hill; and … 

     And going right through it in the dark。           We are in the Box Tunnel。 

     * * * 

     There     is  the  light  again:   and    now    I  suppose    you   will   find  your 

tongue。 

     How long it seemed before we came out! 

     Yes; because you were waiting and watching; with nothing to look at: 

but the tunnel is only a mile and a quarter long after all; I believe。              If you 

had been looking at fields and hedgerows all the while; you would have 

thought no time at all had passed。 

     What   curious   sandy   rocks   on   each   side   of   the   cutting;   in   lines   and 

layers。 

     Those are the freestone still:        and full of fossils they are。      But do you 

see   that   they   dip   away   from   us?   Remember   that。        All   the   rocks   are 

sloping   eastward;   the   way   we   are   going;   and   each   new   rock   or   soil   we 

come to lies on the top of the one before it。            Now we shall run down hill 

for many  a   mile;  down the   back of   the oolites;  past pretty  Chippenham; 

and Wootton…Bassett; towards Swindon spire。                Look at the country; child; 

and thank God for this fair English land; in which your lot is cast。 

     What   beautiful   green   fields;   and   such   huge   elm   trees;   and   orchards; 

and flowers in the cottage gardens! 

     Ay; and what crops; too:        what wheat and beans; turnips and mangold。 

All this land is very rich and easily worked; and hereabouts is some of the 

best   farming   in   England。      The   Agricultural   College   at   Cirencester;   of 

which you have so often heard; lies thereaway; a few miles to our left; and 

there lads go to learn to farm as no men in the world; save English and 

Scotch; know how to farm。 

     But what rock are we on now? 

     On   rock   that   is   much   softer   than that   on the   other  side   of the  oolite 

hills:   much      softer;  because    it  is  much   newer。     We    have    got  off  the 

oolites on to what is called the Oxford clay; and then; I believe; on to the 



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Coral rag; and on that again lies what we are coming to now。                 Do you see 

the red sand in that field? 

     Then that is the lowest layer of a fresh world; so to speak; a world still 

younger than the oolitesthe chalk world。 

     But that is not chalk; or anything like it。 

     No; that is what is called Greensand。 

     But it is not green; it is red。 

     I know:     but years ago it got the name from one green vein in it; in 

which the 〃Coprolites;〃 as you learnt to call them at Cambridge; are found; 

and   that;   and   a   little   layer   of   blue   clay;   called   gault;   between   the   upper 

Greensand and lower Greensand; runs along everywhere at the foot of the 

chalk hills。 

     I see the hills now。     Are they chalk? 

     Yes; chalk they are:       so we may begin to feel near home now。                See 

how   they   range   away   to   the   south   toward   Devizes;   and   Westbury;   and 

Warminster; a goodly land and large。             At their feet; everywhere; run the 

rich pastures on which the Wiltshire cheese is made; and here and there; as 

at   Westbury;    there   is  good   iron…ore    in  the  greensand;     which    is  being 

smelted now; as it used to be in the Weald of Surrey and Kent ages since。 

I must tell you about that some other time。 

     But are there Coprolites here? 

     I believe there are:      I know there are some at Swindon; and I do not 

see why they should not be found; here and there; all the way along the 

foot of the downs; from here to Cambridge。 

     But do these downs go to Cambridge? 

     Of course they do。        We are now in the great valley which runs right 

across     England     from    south…west      to  north…east;    from    Axminster       in 

Devonshire to Hunstanton in Norfolk; with the chalk always on your right 

hand; and the oolite hills on your left; till it ends by sinking into the sea; 

among the fens of Lincolnshire and Norfolk。 

     But what made that great valley? 

     I am not learned enough to tell。          Only this I think we can say that 

once on a time these chalk downs on our right reached high over our heads 

here; and far to the north; and that Madam How pared them away; whether 



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by icebergs; or by sea…waves; or merely by rain; I cannot tell。 

     Well; those downs do look very like sea…cliffs。 

     So they do; very like an old shore…line。             Be that as it may; after the 

chalk was eaten away; Madam How began digging into the soils below the 

chalk; on which we are now; and because they were mostly soft clays; she 

cut them out very easily; till she came down; or nearly down; to the harder 

freestone rocks which run along on our left hand; miles away; and so she 

scooped out this great vale; which we call here the Vale of White Horse; 

and   further   on;   the   Vale   of Aylesbury;   and   then   the   Bedford   Level;   and 

then the dear ugly old Fens。 

     Is this the Vale of White Horse?          Oh; I know about it; I have read The 

Scouring of the White Horse。 

     Of   course   you   have;   and   when   you   are   older   you   will   read   a   jollier 

book     still;Tom    Brown's      School    Daysand      when     we    have    passed 

Swindon; we shall see some of the very places described in it; close on our 

right。 

     * * * 

     There is the White Horse Hill。 

     The White Horse Hill?           But where is the horse?          I can see a bit of 

him:     but   he   does   not   look   like   a   horse   from   here;   or   indeed   from   any 

other place; he is a very old horse indeed; and a thousand years of wind 

and rain have spoilt his anatomy a good deal on the top of that wild down。 

     And is that really where Alfred fought the Danes? 

     As certainly; boy; I believe; as that Waterloo is where the Duke fought 

Napoleon。       Yes:    you may well stare at it with all your eyes; the noble 

down。      It is one of the most sacred spots on English soil。 

     Ah; it is gone now。       The train runs so fast。 

     So it does; too fast to let you look long at one thing:             but in return; it 

lets   you   see   so   many   more   things   in   a   given   time   than   the   slow   old 

coaches and posters did。Well? what is it? 

     I wanted to ask you a question; but you won't listen to me。 

     Won't I?     I suppose I was dreaming with my eyes open。                  You see; I 

have   been   so   often   along   this   lineand   through   this   country;   too;   long 

before the line was madethat I cannot pass it without its seeming full of 



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memoriesperhaps of ghosts。 

     Of real ghosts? 

     As   real   ghosts;   I   suspect;   as   any   one   on   earth   ever   saw;   faces   and 

scenes which have printed themselves so deeply on one's brain; that when 

one   passes   the   same   place;   long   years   after;   they   start   up   again;   out   of 

fields   and   roadsides;   as   if   they   were   alive   once   more;   and   need   sound 

sense to send them back again into their place as things which are past for 

ever; for good and ill。       But what did you want to know? 

     Why; I am so tired of looking out of the window。                 It is all the same: 

fields and hedges; hedges and fields; and I want to talk。

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