Part 4 (2/2)

_Mr Milestone._ This is the summit of a hill, covered, as you perceive, with wood, and with those mossy stones scattered at random under the trees.

_Miss Tenorina._ What a delightful spot to read in, on a summer's day! The air must be so pure, and the wind must sound so divinely in the tops of those old pines!

_Mr Milestone._ Bad taste, Miss Tenorina. Bad taste, I a.s.sure you. Here is the spot improved. The trees are cut down: the stones are cleared away: this is an octagonal pavilion, exactly on the centre of the summit: and there you see Lord Littlebrain, on the top of the pavilion, enjoying the prospect with a telescope.

_Squire Headlong._ Glorious, egad!

_Mr Milestone._ Here is a rugged mountainous road, leading through impervious shades: the a.s.s and the four goats characterise a wild uncultured scene. Here, as you perceive, it is totally changed into a beautiful gravel-road, gracefully curving through a belt of limes: and there is Lord Littlebrain driving four-in-hand.

_Squire Headlong._ Egregious, by Jupiter!

_Mr Milestone._ Here is Littlebrain Castle, a Gothic, moss-grown structure, half bosomed in trees. Near the cas.e.m.e.nt of that turret is an owl peeping from the ivy.

_Squire Headlong._ And devilish wise he looks.

_Mr Milestone._ Here is the new house, without a tree near it, standing in the midst of an undulating lawn: a white, polished, angular building, reflected to a nicety in this waveless lake: and there you see Lord Littlebrain looking out of the window.

_Squire Headlong._ And devilish wise he looks too. You shall cut me a giant before you go.

_Mr Milestone._ Good. I'll order down my little corps of pioneers.

During this conversation, a hot dispute had arisen between Messieurs Gall and Nightshade; the latter pertinaciously insisting on having his new poem reviewed by Treacle, who he knew would extol it most loftily, and not by Gall, whose sarcastic commendation he held in superlative horror. The remonstrances of Squire Headlong silenced the disputants, but did not mollify the inflexible Gall, nor appease the irritated Nightshade, who secretly resolved that, on his return to London, he would beat his drum in Grub Street, form a mastigophoric corps of his own, and hoist the standard of determined opposition against this critical Napoleon.

Sir Patrick O'Prism now entered, and, after some rapturous exclamations on the effect of the mountain-moonlight, entreated that one of the young ladies would favour him with a song. Miss Tenorina and Miss Graziosa now enchanted the company with some very scientific compositions, which, as usual, excited admiration and astonishment in every one, without a single particle of genuine pleasure. The beautiful Cephalis being then summoned to take her station at the harp, sang with feeling and simplicity the following air:--

LOVE AND OPPORTUNITY

Oh! who art thou, so swiftly flying?

My name is Love, the child replied: Swifter I pa.s.s than south-winds sighing, Or streams, through summer vales that glide.

And who art thou, his flight pursuing?

'Tis cold Neglect whom now you see: The little G.o.d you there are viewing, Will die, if once he's touched by me.

Oh! who art thou so fast proceeding, Ne'er glancing back thine eyes of flame?

Marked but by few, through earth I'm speeding, And Opportunity's my name.

What form is that, which scowls beside thee?

Repentance is the form you see: Learn then, the fate may yet betide thee: She seizes them who seize not me.[6.2]

The little butler now appeared with a summons to supper, shortly after which the party dispersed for the night.

CHAPTER VII The Walk

It was an old custom in Headlong Hall to have breakfast ready at eight, and continue it till two; that the various guests might rise at their own hour, breakfast when they came down, and employ the morning as they thought proper; the squire only expecting that they should punctually a.s.semble at dinner. During the whole of this period, the little butler stood sentinel at a side-table near the fire, copiously furnished with all the apparatus of tea, coffee, chocolate, milk, cream, eggs, rolls, toast, m.u.f.fins, bread, b.u.t.ter, potted beef, cold fowl and partridge, ham, tongue, and anchovy. The Reverend Doctor Gaster found himself rather _queasy_ in the morning, therefore preferred breakfasting in bed, on a mug of b.u.t.tered ale and an anchovy toast. The three philosophers made their appearance at eight, and enjoyed _les premices des depouilles_. Mr Foster proposed that, as it was a fine frosty morning, and they were all good pedestrians, they should take a walk to Tremadoc, to see the improvements carrying on in that vicinity. This being readily acceded to, they began their walk.

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