"
"A fig for Wordsworth, and his tear in the old man's eye! I'll not be
happy till I bring that murdering thief of the world to justice."
Further conversation was checked by the view of the river from the top
of the hill, challenging the admiration of the two lovers of scenery,
and they began their descent towards the hamlet that lay on either side
of the bridge which crossed the swiftly-flowing stream. Then the lawyer
commenced the recitation of a poem in one of the old Irish readers:--
River, river, rapid river,
in which the dominie sharply interrupted him, recommending his tall,
mustachioed friend to put a stick of candy in his mouth and go back to
petticoats and pinafores.
"Wilks, you remind me of a picture I saw once, in _Punch_ or somewhere
else, of a nigger sandwich man advertising baths, and a sweep looking at
him, and saying: 'It's enough to tempt one, he looks so jolly clean
hisself.' That's the way with you, always firing out Wordsworth's silly
twaddle, and objecting to a piece of genuine poetry because it's in a
reader. The pig-headed impudence of you birchers beats all.
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