It makes me sleepy to see the vast beam of an engine regularly rise and
fall in ponderous irresistible labour. Now at last some fragment of my
fancy was realised--a myriad myriad rushing bubbles whitening the stream
burst, and were instantly succeeded by myriads more; the boat faintly
vibrated as the wild waters shot beneath it; the green cascade, smooth at
its first curve, dashed itself into the depth beneath, broken to a
million million particles; the eddies whirled, and sucked, and sent tiny
whirlpools rotating along the surface; the roar rose or lessened in
intensity as the velocity of the wind varied; sunlight sparkled--the
warmth inclined the senses to a drowsy idleness. Yonder was the trout
fisherman, just as I had imagined him, casting and casting again with
that transcendental patience which is genius; his line and the top of his
rod formed momentary curves pleasant to look at. The kingfisher did not
come--no doubt he had been shot--but a reed-sparrow did, in velvet black
cap and dainty brown, pottering about the willow near me. This was really
like the beautiful river I had dreamed of. If only we could persuade
ourselves to remain quiescent when we are happy! If only we would remain
still in the armchair as the last curl of vapour rises from a cigar that
has been enjoyed! If only we would sit still in the shadow and not go
indoors to write that letter! Let happiness alone.
Pages:
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172