Prev | Current Page 241 | Next

Moore, George (George Augustus), 1852-1933

"The Untilled Field"


"Well, was it all right?" the steersman said. "Did you find the
house? How were they at home?"
"They're all right at home," he said; "but father is still away. I
am going back. Can you take me?"
The evening sky opened calm and benedictive, and the green country
flowed on, the boat passed by ruins, castles and churches, and
every day was alike until they reached the Shannon.


CHAPTER XII
THE WILD GOOSE


He remembered a green undulating country out of which the trees
seemed to emerge like vapours, and a line of pearl-coloured
mountains showing above the horizon on fine days. And this was
all. But this slight colour-memory had followed him all through
his wanderings. His parents had emigrated to Manchester when he
was nine, and when he was sixteen he felt that he must escape from
Manchester, from the overwhelming dreariness of the brick chimneys
and their smoke cloud. He had joined a travelling circus on its
way to the Continent, and he crossed with it from New Haven to
Dieppe in charge of the lions. The circus crossed in a great
storm; Ned was not able to get about, and the tossing of the
vessel closed the ventilating slides, and when they arrived at
Dieppe the finest lion was dead.
"Well, there are other things to do in life besides feeding
lions," he said; and taking up his fiddle he became interested in
it. He played it all the way across the Atlantic, and everyone
said there was no reason why he should not play in the opera
house.


Pages:
229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253
zakłady bukmacherskie Wczasy nad morzem oferty spa Spa Ciechocinek kolokacja rack