'It must be all happiness here, Ponto,' said I, flinging myself down
into the snug BERGERE, and inhaling such a delicious draught of country
air as all the MILLEFLEURS of Mr. Atkinson's shop cannot impart to any
the most expensive pocket-handkerchief.
'Nice place, isn't it?' said Ponto. 'Quiet and unpretending. I like
everything quiet. You've not brought your valet with you? Stripes will
arrange your dressing things;' and that functionary, entering at the
same time, proceeded to gut my portmanteau, and to lay out the black
kerseymeres, 'the rich cut velvet Genoa waistcoat,' the white choker,
and other polite articles of evening costume, with great gravity and
despatch. 'A great dinner-party,' thinks I to myself, seeing these
preparations (and not, perhaps, displeased at the idea that some of the
best people in the neighbourhood were coming to see me). 'Hark, theres
the first bell ringing! 'said Ponto, moving away; and, in fact, a
clamorous harbinger of victuals began clanging from the stable
turret, and announced the agreeable fact that dinner would appear in
half-an-hour. 'If the dinner is as grand as the dinner-bell,' thought I,
'faith, I'm in good quarters!' and had leisure, during the half-hour's
interval, not only to advance my own person to the utmost polish of
elegance which it is capable of receiving, to admire the pedigree of the
Pontos hanging over the chimney, and the Ponto crest and arms emblazoned
on the wash-hand basin and jug, but to make a thousand reflections on
the happiness of a country life--upon the innocent friendliness and
cordiality of rustic intercourse; and to sigh for an opportunity of
retiring, like Ponto, to my own fields, to my own vine and fig-tree,
with a placens uxor in my domus, and a half-score of sweet young pledges
of affection sporting round my paternal knee.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140