lazy tour of two idle apprentices-第14章

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in　a　trench；　and　obliged　to　speculate　all　day　upon　what　the　people

can　possibly　be　doing　within　a　mysterious　opposite　window；　which　is

a　shop…window　to　look　at；　but　not　a　shop…window　in　respect　of　its

offering　nothing　for　sale　and　declining　to　give　any　account

whatever　of　itself；　Mr。　Goodchild　concedes　Lancaster　to　be　a

pleasant　place。　　A　place　dropped　in　the　midst　of　a　charming

landscape；　a　place　with　a　fine　ancient　fragment　of　castle；　a　place

of　lovely　walks；　a　place　possessing　staid　old　houses　richly　fitted

with　old　Honduras　mahogany；　which　has　grown　so　dark　with　time　that

it　seems　to　have　got　something　of　a　retrospective　mirror…quality

into　itself；　and　to　show　the　visitor；　in　the　depth　of　its　grain；

through　all　its　polish；　the　hue　of　the　wretched　slaves　who　groaned

long　ago　under　old　Lancaster　merchants。　　And　Mr。　Goodchild　adds

that　the　stones　of　Lancaster　do　sometimes　whisper；　even　yet；　of

rich　men　passed　away　…　upon　whose　great　prosperity　some　of　these

old　doorways　frowned　sullen　in　the　brightest　weather　…　that　their

slave…gain　turned　to　curses；　as　the　Arabian　Wizard's　money　turned

to　leaves；　and　that　no　good　ever　came　of　it；　even　unto　the　third

and　fourth　generations；　until　it　was　wasted　and　gone。



It　was　a　gallant　sight　to　behold；　the　Sunday　procession　of　the

Lancaster　elders　to　Church　…　all　in　black；　and　looking　fearfully

like　a　funeral　without　the　Body　…　under　the　escort　of　Three

Beadles。



'Think；'　said　Francis；　as　he　stood　at　the　Inn　window；　admiring；　'of

being　taken　to　the　sacred　edifice　by　three　Beadles！　　I　have；　in　my

early　time；　been　taken　out　of　it　by　one　Beadle；　but；　to　be　taken

into　it　by　three；　O　Thomas；　is　a　distinction　I　shall　never　enjoy！'







CHAPTER　IV







When　Mr。　Goodchild　had　looked　out　of　the　Lancaster　Inn　window　for

two　hours　on　end；　with　great　perseverance；　he　begun　to　entertain　a

misgiving　that　he　was　growing　industrious。　　He　therefore　set

himself　next；　to　explore　the　country　from　the　tops　of　all　the　steep

hills　in　the　neighbourhood。



He　came　back　at　dinner…time；　red　and　glowing；　to　tell　Thomas　Idle

what　he　had　seen。　　Thomas；　on　his　back　reading；　listened　with　great

composure；　and　asked　him　whether　he　really　had　gone　up　those　hills；

and　bothered　himself　with　those　views；　and　walked　all　those　miles？



'Because　I　want　to　know；'　added　Thomas；　'what　you　would　say　of　it；

if　you　were　obliged　to　do　it？'



'It　would　be　different；　then；'　said　Francis。　　'It　would　be　work；

then；　now；　it's　play。'



'Play！'　replied　Thomas　Idle；　utterly　repudiating　the　reply。　　'Play！

Here　is　a　man　goes　systematically　tearing　himself　to　pieces；　and

putting　himself　through　an　incessant　course　of　training；　as　if　he

were　always　under　articles　to　fight　a　match　for　the　champion's

belt；　and　he　calls　it　Play！　　Play！'　exclaimed　Thomas　Idle；

scornfully　contemplating　his　one　boot　in　the　air。　　'You　CAN'T　play。

You　don't　know　what　it　is。　　You　make　work　of　everything。'



The　bright　Goodchild　amiably　smiled。



'So　you　do；'　said　Thomas。　　'I　mean　it。　　To　me　you　are　an　absolutely

terrible　fellow。　　You　do　nothing　like　another　man。　　Where　another

fellow　would　fall　into　a　footbath　of　action　or　emotion；　you　fall

into　a　mine。　　Where　any　other　fellow　would　be　a　painted　butterfly；

you　are　a　fiery　dragon。　　Where　another　man　would　stake　a　sixpence；

you　stake　your　existence。　　If　you　were　to　go　up　in　a　balloon；　you

would　make　for　Heaven；　and　if　you　were　to　dive　into　the　depths　of

the　earth；　nothing　short　of　the　other　place　would　content　you。

What　a　fellow　you　are；　Francis！'　　The　cheerful　Goodchild　laughed。



'It's　all　very　well　to　laugh；　but　I　wonder　you　don't　feel　it　to　be

serious；'　said　Idle。　　'A　man　who　can　do　nothing　by　halves　appears

to　me　to　be　a　fearful　man。'



'Tom；　Tom；'　returned　Goodchild；　'if　I　can　do　nothing　by　halves；　and

be　nothing　by　halves；　it's　pretty　clear　that　you　must　take　me　as　a

whole；　and　make　the　best　of　me。'



With　this　philosophical　rejoinder；　the　airy　Goodchild　clapped　Mr。

Idle　on　the　shoulder　in　a　final　manner；　and　they　sat　down　to

dinner。



'By…the…by；'　said　Goodchild；　'I　have　been　over　a　lunatic　asylum

too；　since　I　have　been　out。'



'He　has　been；'　exclaimed　Thomas　Idle；　casting　up　his　eyes；　'over　a

lunatic　asylum！　　Not　content　with　being　as　great　an　Ass　as　Captain

Barclay　in　the　pedestrian　way；　he　makes　a　Lunacy　Commissioner　of

himself　…　for　nothing！'



'An　immense　place；'　said　Goodchild；　'admirable　offices；　very　good

arrangements；　very　good　attendants；　altogether　a　remarkable　place。'



'And　what　did　you　see　there？'　asked　Mr。　Idle；　adapting　Hamlet's

advice　to　the　occasion；　and　assuming　the　virtue　of　interest；　though

he　had　it　not。



'The　usual　thing；'　said　Francis　Goodchild；　with　a　sigh。　　'Long

groves　of　blighted　men…and…women…trees；　interminable　avenues　of

hopeless　faces；　numbers；　without　the　slightest　power　of　really

combining　for　any　earthly　purpose；　a　society　of　human　creatures　who

have　nothing　in　common　but　that　they　have　all　lost　the　power　of

being　humanly　social　with　one　another。'



'Take　a　glass　of　wine　with　me；'　said　Thomas　Idle；　'and　let　US　be

social。'



'In　one　gallery；　Tom；'　pursued　Francis　Goodchild；　'which　looked　to

me　about　the　length　of　the　Long　Walk　at　Windsor；　more　or　less　…　'



'Probably　less；'　observed　Thomas　Idle。



'In　one　gallery；　which　was　otherwise　clear　of　patients　（for　they

were　all　out）；　there　was　a　poor　little　dark…chinned；　meagre　man；

with　a　perplexed　brow　and　a　pensive　face；　stooping　low　over　the

matting　on　the　floor；　and　picking　out　with　his　thumb　and　forefinger

the　course　of　its　fibres。　　The　afternoon　sun　was　slanting　in　at　the

large　end…window；　and　there　were　cross　patches　of　light　and　shade

all　down　the　vista；　made　by　the　unseen　windows　and　the　open　doors

of　the　little　sleeping…cells　on　either　side。　　In　about　the　centre

of　the　perspective；　under　an　arch；　regardless　of　the　pleasant

weather；　regardless　of　the　solitude；　regardless　of　approaching

footsteps；　was　the　poor　little　dark…chinned；　meagre　man；　poring

over　the　matting。　　〃What　are　you　doing　there？〃　said　my　conductor；

when　we　came　to　him。　　He　looked　up；　and　pointed　to　the　matting。　　〃I

wouldn't　do　that；　I　think；〃　said　my　conductor；　kindly；　〃if　I　were

you；　I　would　go　and　read；　or　I　would　lie　down　if　I　felt　tired；　but

I　wouldn't　do　that。〃　　The　patient　considered　a　moment；　and　vacantly

answered；　〃No；　sir；　I　won't；　I'll　…　I'll　go　and　read；〃　and　so　he

lamely　shuffled　away　into　one　of　the　little　rooms。　　I　turned　my

head　before　we　had　gone　many　paces。　　He　had　already　come　out　again；

and　was　again　poring　over　the　matting；　and　tracking　out　its　fibres

with　his　thumb　and　forefinger。　　I　stopped　to　look　at　him；　and　it

came　into　my　mind；　that　probably　the　course　of　those　fibres　as　they

plaited　in　and　out；　over　and　under；　was　the　only　course　of　things

in　the　whole　wide　world　that　it　was　left　to　him　to　understand　…

that　his　darkening　intellect　had　narrowed　down　to　the　small　cleft

of　light　which　showed　him；　〃This　piece　was　twisted　this　way；　went

in　here；　passed　under；　came　out　there；　was　carried　on　away　here　to

the　right　where　I　now　put　my　finger　on　it；　and　in　this　progress　of

events；　the　thing　was　made　and　came　to　be　here。〃　　Then；　I　wondered

whether　he　looked　into　the　matting；　next；　to　see　if　it　could　show

him　anything　of　the　process　through　which　HE　came　to　be　there；　so

strangely　poring　over　it。　　Then；　I　thought　how　all　of　us；　GOD　help

us！　in　our　different　ways　are　poring　over　our　bits　of　matting；

blindly　enough；　and　what　confusions　and　mysteries　we　make　in　the

pattern。　　I　had　a　sadder　fellow…feeling　with　the　little　dark…

chinned；　meagre　man；　by　that　time；　and　I　came　away。'



Mr。　Idle　diverting　the　conversation　to　grouse；　custards；　and　bride…

cake；　Mr。　Goodchild　followed　in　the　same　direction。　　The　bride…cake

was　as　bilious　and　indigestible　as　if　a　real　Bride　had　cut　it；　and

the　dinner　it　completed　was　an　admirable　performance。



The　house　was　a　genuine　old　house　of　a　very　quaint　description；

teeming　with　old　carvings；　and　beams；　and　panels；　and　having　an

excellent　old　staircase；　with　a　gallery　or　upper　staircase；　cut　off

from　it　by　a　curious　fence…work　of　old　oak；　or　of　the　old　Honduras

Mahogany　wood。　　It　was；　and　is；　and　will　be；　for　many　a　long　year

to　come；　a　remarkably　picturesque　house；　and　a　certain　grave

mystery　lurking　in　the　depth　of　the　old　mahogany　panels；　as　if　they

were　so　many　deep　pools　of　dark　water　…　such；　indeed；　as　they　had

been　much　among　when　they　were　trees　…　gave　it　a　very　mysterious

character　after　nightfall。



When　Mr。　Goodchild　and　Mr。　Idle　had　first　alighted　at　the　door；　and

stepped　into　the　sombre；　handsome　old　hall；　they　had　been　received

by　half…a…dozen　noiseless　old　men　in　black；　all　dressed　exactly

alike；　who　glided　up　the　stairs　with　the　obliging　landlord　and

waiter　…　but　without　appearing　to　get　into　their　way；　or　to　mind

whether　they　did　or　no　…　and　who　had　filed　off　to　the　right　and

left　on　the　old　staircase；　as　the　guests　entered　their　sitting…

room。　　It　was　then　broad；　bright　day。　　But；　Mr。　Goodchild　had　said；

when　their　door　was　shut；　'Who　on　earth　are　those　old　men？'　　And

afterwards；　both　on　going　out　and　coming　in；　he　had　noticed　that

there　were　no　old　men　to　be　seen。



Neither；　had　the　old　men；　or　any　one　of　the　old　men；　reappeared

since。　　The　two　friends　had　passed　a　night　in　the　house；　but　had

seen　nothing　more　of　the　old　men。　　Mr。　Goodchild；　in　rambling　about

it；　had　looked　along　passages；　and　glanced　in　at　doorways；　but　had

encountered　no　old　men；　neither　did　it　appear　that　any　old　men

were；　by　any　member　of　the　establishment；　missed　or　expected。



Another　odd　circumstance　impressed　itself　on　their　attention。　　It

was；　that　the　door　of　their　sitting…room　was　never　left　untouched

for　a　quarter　of　an　hour。　　It　was　opened　with　hesitation；　opened

with　confidence；　opened　a　little　way；　opened　a　good　way；　…　always

clapped…to　again　without　a　word　of　explanation。　　They　were　reading；

they　were　writing；　they　were　eating；　they　were　drinking；　they　were

talking；　they　were　dozing；　the　door　was　always　opened　at　an

unexpected　moment；　and　they　looked　towards　it；　and　it　was　clapped…

to　again；　and　nobody　was　to　be　seen。　　When　this　had　happened　fifty

times　or　so；　Mr。　Goodchild　had　said　to　his　companion；　jestingly：

'I　begin　to　think；　Tom；　there　was　something　wrong　with　those　six

old　men。'



Night　had　come　again；　and　they　had　been　writing　for　two　or　three

hours：　　writing；　in　short；　a　portion　of　the　lazy　notes　from　which

these　lazy　sheets　are　taken。　　They　had　left　off　writing；　and

glasses　were　on　the　table　between　them。　　The　house　was　closed　and

quiet。　　Around　the　head　of　Thomas　Idle；　as　he　lay　upon　his　sofa；

hovered　light　wreaths　of　fragrant　smoke。　　The　temples　of　Francis

Goodchild；　as　he　leaned　back　in　his　chair；　with　his　two　hands

clasped　behind　his　head；　and　his