three men in a boat-第9章

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wakening　pulses　on　the　brink　of　womanhood。



The　quaint　back　streets　of　Kingston；　where　they　came　down　to　the　water's　

edge；　looked　quite　picturesque　in　the　flashing　sunlight；　the　glinting　

river　with　its　drifting　barges；　the　wooded　towpath；　the　trim…kept　villas　

on　the　other　side；　Harris；　in　a　red　and　orange　blazer；　grunting　away　at　

the　sculls；　the　distant　glimpses　of　the　grey　old　palace　of　the　Tudors；　

all　made　a　sunny　picture；　so　bright　but　calm；　so　full　of　life；　and　yet　so　

peaceful；　that；　early　in　the　day　though　it　was；　I　felt　myself　being　

dreamily　lulled　off　into　a　musing　fit。



I　mused　on　Kingston；　or　〃Kyningestun；〃　as　it　was　once　called　in　the　days　

when　Saxon　〃kinges〃　were　crowned　there。　　Great　Caesar　crossed　the　river　

there；　and　the　Roman　legions　camped　upon　its　sloping　uplands。　　Caesar；　

like；　in　later　years；　Elizabeth；　seems　to　have　stopped　everywhere：　only　

he　was　more　respectable　than　good　Queen　Bess；　he　didn't　put　up　at　the　

public…houses。



She　was　nuts　on　public…houses；　was　England's　Virgin　Queen。　　There's　

scarcely　a　pub。　of　any　attractions　within　ten　miles　of　London　that　she　

does　not　seem　to　have　looked　in　at；　or　stopped　at；　or　slept　at；　some　time　

or　other。　　I　wonder　now；　supposing　Harris；　say；　turned　over　a　new　leaf；　

and　became　a　great　and　good　man；　and　got　to　be　Prime　Minister；　and　died；　

if　they　would　put　up　signs　over　the　public…houses　that　he　had　patronised：　

〃Harris　had　a　glass　of　bitter　in　this　house；〃　〃Harris　had　two　of　Scotch　

cold　here　in　the　summer　of　‘88；〃　〃Harris　was　chucked　from　here　in　

December；　1886。〃



No；　there　would　be　too　many　of　them！　　It　would　be　the　houses　that　he　had　

never　entered　that　would　become　famous。　　〃Only　house　in　South　London　that　

Harris　never　had　a　drink　in！〃　　The　people　would　flock　to　it　to　see　what　

could　have　been　the　matter　with　it。



How　poor　weak…minded　King　Edwy　must　have　hated　Kyningestun！　　The　

coronation　feast　had　been　too　much　for　him。　　Maybe　boar's　head　stuffed　

with　sugar…plums　did　not　agree　with　him　（it　wouldn't　with　me；　I　know）；　

and　he　had　had　enough　of　sack　and　mead；　so　he　slipped　from　the　noisy　

revel　to　steal　a　quiet　moonlight　hour　with　his　beloved　Elgiva。



Perhaps；　from　the　casement；　standing　hand…in…hand；　they　were　watching　the　

calm　moonlight　on　the　river；　while　from　the　distant　halls　the　boisterous　

revelry　floated　in　broken　bursts　of　faint…heard　din　and　tumult。



Then　brutal　Odo　and　St。　Dunstan　force　their　rude　way　into　the　quiet　room；　

and　hurl　coarse　insults　at　the　sweet…faced　Queen；　and　drag　poor　Edwy　back　

to　the　loud　clamour　of　the　drunken　brawl。



Years　later；　to　the　crash　of　battle…music；　Saxon　kings　and　Saxon　revelry　

were　buried　side　by　side；　and　Kingston's　greatness　passed　away　for　a　

time；　to　rise　once　more　when　Hampton　Court　became　the　palace　of　the　

Tudors　and　the　Stuarts；　and　the　royal　barges　strained　at　their　moorings　

on　the　river's　bank；　and　bright…cloaked　gallants　swaggered　down　the　

water…steps　to　cry：　〃What　Ferry；　ho！　　Gadzooks；　gramercy。〃



Many　of　the　old　houses；　round　about；　speak　very　plainly　of　those　days　

when　Kingston　was　a　royal　borough；　and　nobles　and　courtiers　lived　there；　

near　their　King；　and　the　long　road　to　the　palace　gates　was　gay　all　day　

with　clanking　steel　and　prancing　palfreys；　and　rustling　silks　and　

velvets；　and　fair　faces。　　The　large　and　spacious　houses；　with　their　

oriel；　latticed　windows；　their　huge　fireplaces；　and　their　gabled　roofs；　

breathe　of　the　days　of　hose　and　doublet；　of　pearl…embroidered　stomachers；　

and　complicated　oaths。　　They　were　upraised　in　the　days　〃when　men　knew　how　

to　build。〃　　The　hard　red　bricks　have　only　grown　more　firmly　set　with　

time；　and　their　oak　stairs　do　not　creak　and　grunt　when　you　try　to　go　down　

them　quietly。



Speaking　of　oak　staircases　reminds　me　that　there　is　a　magnificent　carved　

oak　staircase　in　one　of　the　houses　in　Kingston。　　It　is　a　shop　now；　in　the　

market…place；　but　it　was　evidently　once　the　mansion　of　some　great　

personage。　　A　friend　of　mine；　who　lives　at　Kingston；　went　in　there　to　buy　

a　hat　one　day；　and；　in　a　thoughtless　moment；　put　his　hand　in　his　pocket　

and　paid　for　it　then　and　there。



The　shopman　（he　knows　my　friend）　was　naturally　a　little　staggered　at　

first；　but；　quickly　recovering　himself；　and　feeling　that　something　ought　

to　be　done　to　encourage　this　sort　of　thing；　asked　our　hero　if　he　would　

like　to　see　some　fine　old　carved　oak。　　My　friend　said　he　would；　and　the　

shopman；　thereupon；　took　him　through　the　shop；　and　up　the　staircase　of　

the　house。　　The　balusters　were　a　superb　piece　of　workmanship；　and　the　

wall　all　the　way　up　was　oak…panelled；　with　carving　that　would　have　done　

credit　to　a　palace。



From　the　stairs；　they　went　into　the　drawing…room；　which　was　a　large；　

bright　room；　decorated　with　a　somewhat　startling　though　cheerful　paper　of　

a　blue　ground。　　There　was　nothing；　however；　remarkable　about　the　

apartment；　and　my　friend　wondered　why　he　had　been　brought　there。　　The　

proprietor　went　up　to　the　paper；　and　tapped　it。　　It　gave　forth　a　wooden　

sound。



〃Oak；〃　he　explained。　　〃All　carved　oak；　right　up　to　the　ceiling；　just　the　

same　as　you　saw　on　the　staircase。〃



〃But；　great　Caesar！　man；〃　expostulated　my　friend；　〃you　don't　mean　to　say　

you　have　covered　over　carved　oak　with　blue　wall…paper？〃



〃Yes；〃　was　the　reply：　〃it　was　expensive　work。　　Had　to　match…board　it　all　

over　first；　of　course。　　But　the　room　looks　cheerful　now。　　It　was　awful　

gloomy　before。〃



I　can't　say　I　altogether　blame　the　man　（which　is　doubtless　a　great　relief　

to　his　mind）。　　From　his　point　of　view；　which　would　be　that　of　the　average　

householder；　desiring　to　take　life　as　lightly　as　possible；　and　not　that　

of　the　old…curiosity…shop　maniac；　there　is　reason　on　his　side。　　Carved　

oak　is　very　pleasant　to　look　at；　and　to　have　a　little　of；　but　it　is　no　

doubt　somewhat　depressing　to　live　in；　for　those　whose　fancy　does　not　lie　

that　way。　　It　would　be　like　living　in　a　church。



No；　what　was　sad　in　his　case　was　that　he；　who　didn't　care　for　carved　oak；　

should　have　his　drawing…room　panelled　with　it；　while　people　who　do　care　

for　it　have　to　pay　enormous　prices　to　get　it。　　It　seems　to　be　the　rule　of　

this　world。　　Each　person　has　what　he　doesn't　want；　and　other　people　have　

what　he　does　want。



Married　men　have　wives；　and　don't　seem　to　want　them；　and　young　single　

fellows　cry　out　that　they　can't　get　them。　　Poor　people　who　can　hardly　

keep　themselves　have　eight　hearty　children。　　Rich　old　couples；　with　no　

one　to　leave　their　money　to；　die　childless。



Then　there　are　girls　with　lovers。　　The　girls　that　have　lovers　never　want　

them。　　They　say　they　would　rather　be　without　them；　that　they　bother　them；　

and　why　don't　they　go　and　make　love　to　Miss　Smith　and　Miss　Brown；　who　are　

plain　and　elderly；　and　haven't　got　any　lovers？　　They　themselves　don't　

want　lovers。　　They　never　mean　to　marry。



It　does　not　do　to　dwell　on　these　things；　it　makes　one　so　sad。



There　was　a　boy　at　our　school；　we　used　to　call　him　Sandford　and　Merton。　　

His　real　name　was　Stivvings。　　He　was　the　most　extraordinary　lad　I　ever　

came　across。　　I　believe　he　really　liked　study。　　He　used　to　get　into　awful　

rows　for　sitting　up　in　bed　and　reading　Greek；　and　as　for　French　irregular　

verbs　there　was　simply　no　keeping　him　away　from　them。　　He　was　full　of　

weird　and　unnatural　notions　about　being　a　credit　to　his　parents　and　an　

honour　to　the　school；　and　he　yearned　to　win　prizes；　and　grow　up　and　be　a　

clever　man；　and　had　all　those　sorts　of　weak…minded　ideas。　　I　never　knew　

such　a　strange　creature；　yet　harmless；　mind　you；　as　the　babe　unborn。



Well；　that　boy　used　to　get　ill　about　twice　a　week；　so　that　he　couldn't　go　

to　school。　　There　never　was　such　a　boy　to　get　ill　as　that　Sandford　and　

Merton。　　If　there　was　any　known　disease　going　within　ten　miles　of　him；　he　

had　it；　and　had　it　badly。　　He　would　take　bronchitis　in　the　dog…days；　and　

have　hay…fever　at　Christmas。　　After　a　six　weeks'　period　of　drought；　he　

would　be　stricken　down　with　rheumatic　fever；　and　he　would　go　out　in　a　

November　fog　and　come　home　with　a　sunstroke。



They　put　him　under　laughing…gas　one　year；　poor　lad；　and　drew　all　his　

teeth；　and　gave　him　a　false　set；　because　he　suffered　so　terribly　with　

toothache；　and　then　it　turned　to　neuralgia　and　ear…ache。　　He　was　never　

without　a　cold；　except　once　for　nine　weeks　while　he　had　scarlet　fever；　

and　he　always　had　chilblains。　　During　the　great　cholera　scare　of　1871；　

our　neighbourhood　was　singularly　free　from　it。　　There　was　only　one　

reputed　case　in　the　whole　parish：　that　case　was　young　Stivvings。



He　had　to　stop　in　bed　when　he　was　ill；　and　eat　chicken　and　custards　and　

hot…house　grapes；　and　he　would　lie　there　and　sob；　because　they　wouldn't　

let　him　do　Latin　exercises；　and　took　his　German　grammar　away　from　him。



And　we　other　boys；　who　would　have　sacrificed　ten　terms　of　our　school…life　

for　the　sake　of　being　ill　for　a　day；　and　had　no　desire　whatever　to　give　

our　parents　any　excuse　for　being　stuck…up　about　us；　couldn't　catch　so　

much　as　a　stiff　neck。　　We　fooled　about　in　draughts；　and　it　did　us　good；　

and　freshened　us　up；　and　we　took　things　to　make　us　sick；　and　they　made　us　

fat；　and　gave　us　an　appetite。　　Nothing　we　could　think　of　seemed　to　make　

us　ill　until　the　holidays　began。　　Then；　on　the　breaking…up　day；　we　caught　

colds；　and　whooping　cough；　and　all　kinds　of　disorders；　which　lasted　till　

the　term　recommenced；　when；　in　spite　of　everything　we　could　manoeuvre　to　

the　contrary；　we　would　get　suddenly　well　again；　and　be　better　than　ever。



Such　is　life；　and　we　are　but　as　grass　that　is　cut　down；　and　put　into　the　

oven　and　baked。



To　go　back　to　the　carved…oak　question；　they　must　have　had　very　fair　

notions　of　the　artistic　and　the　beautiful；　our　great…great…grandfathers。　　

Why；　all　our　art　treasures　of　to…day　are　only　the　dug…up　commonplaces　of　

three　or　four　hundred　years　ago。　　I　wonder　if　there　is　real　intrinsic　

beauty　in　the　old　soup…plates；　beer…mugs；　and　candle…snuffers　that　we　

prize　so　now；　or　if　it　is　only　the　halo　of　age　glowing　around　them　that　

gives　them　their　charms　in　our　eyes。　　The　〃old　blue〃　that　we　hang　about　

our　walls　as　ornaments　were　the　common　every…day　household　utensils　of　a　

few　centuries　ago；　and　the　pink　shepherds　and　the　yellow　shepherdesses　

that　we　hand　round　now　for　all　our　friends　to　gush　over；　and　pretend　they　

understand；　were　the　unvalued　mantel…ornaments　that　the　mother　of　the　

eighteenth　century　would　have　given　the　baby　to　suck　when　he　cried。



Will　it　be　the　same　in　the　future？　　Will　the　prized　treasures　of　to…day　

always　be　the　cheap　trifles　of　the　day　before？　　Will　rows　of　our　willow…

pattern　dinner…plates　be　ranged　above　the　chimneypieces　of　the　great　in　

the　years　2000　and　odd？　　Will　the　white　cups　with　the　gold　rim　and　the　

beautiful　gold　flower　inside　（species　unknown）；　that　our　Sarah　Janes　now　

break