r was my
own suggestion; there was a sum of eight shillings over after the
purchase of the nutcrackers, and I have always had a partiality for
Cowper. The junior partner thanked us personally, and in very warm
terms; at the same time he announced that the following Thursday was to
be treated as a holiday.
* * * * *
The weather was glorious, and I have never had a more enjoyable day.
The girl laid breakfast overnight, and we rose at half-past five. By
half-past six Eliza had cut some mutton sandwiches and placed them in a
basket with a bottle of milk--the milkman having obliged with a
specially early call by appointment. A brief journey by train, and by a
quarter-past seven we were at Danstow for our day off in the country.
Danstow is a picturesque little village, and looked beautiful in the
hot sunlight. I was wearing a fairly new summer suit, with brown boots.
As I remarked to Eliza, it would probably have created a feeling of
surprise among the villagers if they had learned that, as a rule, my
professional duties took me to the city in the morning.
Eliza said: "All right. What do we do here?"
"Why," I said, "there's the old church. We mustn't miss that."
We went and examined the old church. Then we went twice up and down the
village street, and examined that.
"Well," said Eliza, "what next?"
"Now," I replied, "we just stroll about and amuse ourselves. I feel
particularly light-hearted."
"That's breakfasting at six, that is," said Eliza. "If you could find a
quiet place, we might have a sandwich."
We went a little way along the road, and I espied a field which seemed
to me to look likely. I said to a passer-by: "I am a stranger here. Can
you tell me whether there would be any objection to our sitting in that
field?" He said, in rather an offensive and sarcastic way, that he
believed the field was open for sitting in about that hour. I did not
give him any reply, but just opened the gate for Eliza.
We sat down under the hedge, and finished our sandwiches and milk. The
church clock struck nine.
"What train do we go back by?" asked Eliza.
"Not until half-past nine to-night. There's a day for you!"
"Twelve hours and a half," said Eliza. "And we've done the sandwiches,
and done the milk, and done the church, and there's nothing else to
do."
"Except amuse ourselves," I added, as I took off my boots, which had
pained me slightly. I then dozed off.
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