The Princess Passes Volume 56, Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson [primary phonics txt] 📗
Book online «The Princess Passes Volume 56, Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson [primary phonics txt] 📗». Author Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson
However, He Was Persistent, And Was In Real Danger, Since To Avoid An
Approaching Cart, Jack Was Forced To Steer Perilously Near The Yapping
Beast.
I Snatched The Weapon, Pulled The Trigger, And--A Mild, Mellifluous
Trickle Which Would Have Disgraced A Toilet Vaporiser Sprayed Forth.
Jack, Molly, And The Peasants In The Approaching Cart Burst Into
Shouts Of Laughter. The Spitz, Undismayed By The Gentle Shower, Which
Had Spattered His Nose With A Drop Or Two, Leaped At The Weapon, And,
Irritated, I Flung It At His Head. It Fell Innocuously In The Road And
Our Last Sight Of The Spitz Was When, Rejoined By His Lizard Friend,
He Industriously Gnawed At The Pistol, Mistaking It For A Bone, While
The Dachs Gratefully Lapped Up The Water I Had Provided. My Surprise
Was A Popular Success, But Not The Kind Of Success Which I Had
Planned. Jack Said That He Could Have "Told Me So" If I Had Asked Him,
And I Vowed In Future To Let Dogs Delight To Bark And Bite Without
Interference From Me.
The One Inept Remark Which Shelley Seems Ever To Have Made Was That
"There Is Nothing To See In France." My Opinion, As We Spun Along The
Road Which Would Lead Us To Lucerne And My Waiting Mule, Was That
There Was Almost Too Much To See, Too Much Charm, Too Much Beauty For
The Peace Of Mind Of An Imaginative Traveller; There Were So Many
Valleys Which One Longed To Explore, In Which One Felt One Could Be
Content Without Going Farther, So Many Blue Glimpses Of Mysterious
Mountains, Veiled By The Haze Of Dreamland, That One Suffered A
Constant Succession Of Acute Pangs In Thinking That One Would
Probably Never See Them Again, That One Would Need At Least Nine Long
Lives If One Were To Spend, Say, Even A Month In Each Place.
Molly Advised Me Not To Be A Spendthrift Of My Emotions, At This Stage
Of The Journey, Lest I Should Be A Worn-Out Wreck Before The Grandest
Part Came, But The Idea Of Husbanding Enthusiasm Did Not Commend
Itself To Me. Why Not Enjoy This Moment, Instead Of Waiting Until The
Moment After Next? It Was Too Much Like Saving Up One's Good Clothes
Chapter 4 (Pots Kettles And Other Things) Pg 31For "Best," A Lower-Middle-Class Habit Which I Have Detested Since The
Days When I Howled For My Smartest Lord Fauntleroy Frills In The
Morning.
There Were Sweet Villages Where They Made Cheese, And Where I Could
Have Been Happy Making It With Helen Blantock; There Were Châteaux
With Turret Rooms Where My Book Shelves Would Have Fitted Excellently;
But Always We Fled On, On, Until At Last, After Two Bewildering,
Cinematographic Days, We Drove Into The Streets Of That Dignified And
Delightful City, Bern.
It Had Not Been Necessary For Us To Pass Through Bern; It Was, In
Fact, A Few Yards More Or Less Out Of The Most Direct Path. We Chose
This Route Simply And Solely With The View Of Paying A Visit To The
Bears. Molly Had Never Met Them; I Had Neglected Them Since Childhood;
Jack Looked Forward To The Pleasure Of Introducing Them To His Wife.
It Was On Our Way To Call Upon The Bears, That Destiny Seduced Me To
Turn My Head At A Certain Moment, And Look Into A Shop Window.
Suddenly The Flame Of My Desire For The Walking Solo With A Mule
Accompaniment (Somewhat Diminished Lately, I Confess) Leaped Up Anew.
There Were Things In That Window Which Made A Man Long To Be A
Hermit.
"Mrs. Winston." I Cried (Molly Was Driving), "For Goodness' Sake Stop."
In An Instant The Car Slowed Down. "What Is The Matter?" She Implored.
"Are You Ill? Have We Run Over Anything?"
"No, But Look There," I Said Eagerly. "What An Outfit For A Camping
Tour! My Mouth Waters Only At Sight Of It."
"Greedy Fellow," Commented Jack From The Tonneau. "Drive On, Molly.
Get Him Past The Shop. He Doesn't Really Want Any Of Those Things, And
Wouldn't Use Them If He Had Them. The Sooner He Forgets The Better."
"Never Shall I Forget That Instantaneous Breakfast For An Alpiniste,"
I Fiercely Protested, "And I Will Have It At Any Cost. I Know There's
No Other Shop On The Continent Like This, And I Shall Buy An Outfit
For Myself And Mule, Here, If I Have To Come Back From Lucerne By
Train For It."
"Hang Your Mule!" Exclaimed Jack. "I Was Hoping You'd Forgotten All
About Him By This Time, And Had Made Up Your Mind To Go On With Us
Indefinitely."
I Saw Reproach Blaze Through The Talc Triangle In Molly's Mushroom.
(Yet I Thought She Liked Me, And Had Not, Thus Far, Found "Three A
Crowd.")
"Lord Lane Isn't A _Chameleon_, Jack," Said She, "That He Should
Change His Mind Every Few Minutes. _Of Course_ He's Going To Have His
Mule Trip. And As For This Shop, All Those Dear Little Pots And
Chapter 4 (Pots Kettles And Other Things) Pg 32Kettles And Things In The Window Are Too Cute For Words. He _Shall_
Have Them."
Was I To Be A Bone Of Contention Between Husband And Wife?
"Please, Both Of You Come In And Help Me Choose," I Meekly Pleaded, In
Haste To Restore The Peace Which I Had Broken.
We Got Out, And A Small Crowd Collected Round The Car, Gotteland
Standing By With His Chin Raised And The Exact Expression Of The Frog
Footman In "Alice In Wonderland." One Would Have Said That He Saw,
Afar Off, The Graves Of His Ancestors, On The Summit Of Some Lonely
Mountain.
It Was What Molly Would Have Called A "Lovely" Shop, And It Did
Business Under The Strange Device: "Magasin Suisse D'equipment
Sportif." The Name Alone Was Worth The Money One Would Spend.
Everything To Cover The Outer, And Nourish The Inner Sportsman, Was To
Be Had. I Felt That I Could Scarcely Be Lonely Or Sad If I Possessed A
Stock Of These Friendly Articles. Jack's Ribald Advice To Buy A
Pelerine, And A Green-Loden Gemsjäger Hat With A Feather, Stirred Me
Neither To Smiles Nor Anger, For Molly And I Were Already Deep In
Exploration.
The First Thing I Bought Was A Mule-Pack. Being A Merciful Man, I
Chose One Of Medium Size, For Already I Could Fancy Myself Becoming
Fond Of The Animal Which Was To Be My Companion In Many Wild And
Solitary Places, And I Did Not Wish To Overburden Him. I Then, Aided
And Abetted By Molly, Began To Choose The Pack's Contents.
An "_Appareil De Cuisson Alpin, Idéal_" Went Without Saying, Like The
Air One Breathes. It Composed Itself, According To The Voluble
Attendant Who Displayed It, Of Six Parts, Each Part Far Better Than
The Others. There Was A _Gamelle_, With A "_Crochet Pour L'enlever_"
And A _Couvercle_, Which, Not To Show Itself Proud, Would Lend Its
Services Also As An _Assiette_ Or A _Poêle À Frire_. There Was The
Burner Of Alcohol; There Was "_Le Couvercle De Celui-Ci_," Which
Served Equally To Measure The Spirit, And There Was A Charming
_Appareil Brise Vent_ Which Had The Air Of Defying Tornadoes. When I
Had Secured This Treasure, Molly Drew My Attention To A Series Of
Aluminium Boxes Made To Fit Eggs And Sandwiches. I Bought These Also,
And, Pleased With The Clean White Metal, Invested In Plates, Goblets,
And Water Bottles Of The Same. Next Came A _Couvert Pliant_,
Containing Knife, Fork, And Spoon; And, Lest I Should Be Guilty Of
Selfishness, I Ordered A Duplicate For The Man Who Would Look After
The Mule. Best Of All, However, Were The Tinned Soups, Meats,
Vegetables, Puddings, And Cocoas, Which You Simply Set On The Fire In
Their Bright Little Cans, And Heated Till They Sent Forth A Steamy
Fragrance. Then You Ate Or Drank Them, And Were Happy As A King.
Molly And I Selected A Number Of These, And Completed The List With A
Sleeping Bag And A _Tente De Touriste_, Which She Persuaded Me Would
Be Indispensable When Lost In The Mountains, As I Was Sure To Be,
Chapter 4 (Pots Kettles And Other Things) Pg 33Often.
When My Goods And Chattels Came To Be Collected, We Were Shocked To
Find That The Mule-Pack Would Not Contain Them. The Question Remained,
Then, Whether I Should Sacrifice These New Possessions, Already Dear,
Or Whether I Should Doom My Mule To Carry A Greater Burden. The
Attendant Intimated That Swiss Mules Preferred Heavy Loads, And Had
They The Vocal Gifts Of Balaam's Ass, Would Demand Them. Swayed By My
Desires And His Arguments, I Changed My Pack For A Larger One. After
More Than An Hour In The Shop, We Tore Ourselves Away, Leaving Word
That The Things Should Be Sent By Post To Lucerne. We Then Repaired To
The Bear Pit, By Way Of The Clock, And Having Supplied Ourselves With
Plenty Of Carrots, Had No Cause To Complain Of Our Reception.
Chapter 5 (In Search Of A Mule) Pg 34"Yes, We Await It, But It Still Delays, And Then We Suffer."
--Matthew Arnold.
"When I Arose And Saw The Dawn, I Sighed For Thee . . .
Come, Long-Sought!"
--Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Jack No Longer Attempted To Dissuade Me From My Walking Tour. Whether
Molly Had Talked To Him, Or Whether He Had, Unprompted, Seen The Error
Of His Ways, I Cannot Tell, But The Fact Remains That, During The Rest
Of Our Run To Lucerne, He Showed A Lively Interest In The Forthcoming
Trip.
"I Suppose," Said He, When We Had Caught Our First Sight Of Pilatus
(Seen, As One Might Say, On His Back Premises), "I Suppose That
Anywhere In Switzerland, There Ought To
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