at so soon as my indomitable aunt Julia discovered my departure she would immediately head a search party in quest of
should have been blissfully asleep between lavender-scented sheets. Indeed my loved aunt abhorred the night air for me, under the delusion that I suffered from a delicate chest; ye
, godlike, master of my destiny. Beyond meadow and cornfield to right and left gloomed woods, remote and full of mystery, in whose enchanted twilight elves and fairies might have danced or slender dryads peeped and sported. Thus walked I in an ecstasy, scanning with eager eyes the
alk
smooth-sh
the wand
ar her hi
at had been
eaven's wide
c bridge spanning a stream that flowed murmurous in the shade of alder and willow. Being upon this bridge, I
ritten and books happened. At last I turned and, crossing the bridge, went my way, pondering on Death
lost and shut in, what with the dense underbrush around me and the twisted, writhen branches above, whose myriad leaves obscured the moon's kindly beam. In this dim twilight I pushed on then, as well a
nd death in lonely places. I remembered that not so long ago the famous Buck and Corinthian Sir Maurice Vibart
little wood not
ather had staggered and fallen, to tear at the tender grass with dying fingers; these sombre, leafy aisles perhaps had echoed to the shot-his gasping moan that had borne his young spirit up to
it,-a strange, uncanny sound that brought me to my hands and knees, peering fe
d that was like nothing I had ever heard before,-a quick, light, tapping chink, now in rhythm, now ou
human voice, a full, rich voice, very deep and sonorous, upraised in song; an
I am, O a
live, and a ti
s crown would cha
would, and I'
I am, O a
live, and a
pitchy gloom so that my fears racked me anew, until I bethought me this sudden darkness could be no
reat distance; therefore I arose and made my way towards it as well as I could for the many leafy obstacles that beset my way. And thus at last
popps, so hold hard or I'll be forced to brain ye wi' this here kettle. Now then-come forward slow,
ed slowly and very unwillingly into the firelight and, halting
on my intr
ile his quick, bright eyes r
ted, "and now, if yo
Why, here's one as don't come my way often! Intrusion!
d I, wondering
he questioned, beckoning me nea
has lost
swell, a tippy, a go-that's what you are! Wherefore and therefore I a
m lo
young gent in a jerry 'at-lost an' wandering far from a luxurious 'ome in a wood at midnight! And wheref
I answered in i
ur way to London wi' the family jew-ells to make your fortun', having set fir
ainly
ose you'll tell me you ain't even forged your 'oary-'eaded grandfather's name f
"I am not the rogue and scoundrel
tic soul like me and not half so inter-esting as a good nov-el. Now if you'd only 'appened to be a murderer reeki
am
ed to talk wi' a lonely man an' share his fire, sit ye down an' welcome. Though being of a nat'rally enquiring turn o' min
ou why you sit mending
y trade, an' trade's uncommon bris
er, I think!" said I, t
hy str
akespeare, fo
m a literary cove besides. I mend kettles and s
are you
"No, 'ardly a poet, p'raps,-but thereabouts. My verses rhyme an' go wi' a swing, which is sum
eed,
stioned wistfully, slanting his
t and
and kettle, he rose and disappeared into the small dingy tent behind him, whence he
rses, 'specially my verses, is a friend-so dri
, but I ne
loss; whereupon, perceiving his embarrassment, I took the bottle and
ight say, com-posing o' verses there's nothing like a drop o' rum, absorb
ighed, corked the bottle and, having deposited it in the litt
sh about you, therefore I am the more con-sarned on your account, and wonder to see
ng into the shadows and drawing nearer
wandering in the dark, but with her tired eyes lifted up to the kindly stars; so she struggles on awhile, but by an' by come storm clouds an' one by one the stars go out till only one remains, a little twinkling light that is for her the very light of Hope itself-an' presentl
soul may not perish!" said I, star
you an' me an' others like us, to teach us by their wisdom. An' as to our souls-Lord, I've seen so many corpses in my time I know the soul can't die. Corpses? Aye, by goles, I'm always a-finding of 'em. Found one in this very copse none so long ago-very youn
after some demur, I told him my story in few words as possible and careful to suppress all names. Long before I had ended he had l
ewise, do you?" he ques
es
int pic-too
ed, finding myself sudden
hushed and awestruck tones. "
hed only one v
-a book! Ah-what wouldn't I give t' see my verses
y reason of his unfeigned and awestruck wonder. "I published them mys
?" he enquired eagerly. "Anywhe
eal nearer
pound! Lord love me, I don't make so much in a year! So I'll never see any o' my verses in a book, 'tis ver
te about?" I enquire
elds an' winding roads, and then-there's always the star
ed I eagerly. "
his sleeved waistcoat. "Why, then, so you shall, though
ents whence he selected a crumpled wisp of paper; this he smo
comes down,
roof to
lie wher
essed
am one not
iendly eyes That watch
winkin
no friend t
tears unsee
my grief I
l the
y time shal
where my fl
know my so
o the
ite that?"
ed, a little anxiously.
es
a swing,
es
what more can you
e got more
t mo
Atmosphere, f
explained. "And now, friend, p'raps
," said I, finding myself
, after some little reflection, I began
le Dian, go
id th' Oly
splendid
eas' ragef
, 'midst s
ulable
suddenly and
sir; what's wrong?"
d I miserably. "T
fine!" said th
no meaning, nothing of value-I shall never be a poet!" And knowing this for
a bit, mind an' body, an' not so much for yourself as for some one or something else. Nobody can expect to be a real poet, I think, as hasn't suffered or grieved
thought o
Any
ghteen g
ighteen pound can't last for ever
n't k
d staring into the fire, while I, lost in my new humility
enquired my com
hink
at
n't k
trade or p
on
s is-let's to sleep, for I must be early abroad." Here he reached into the little tent and presently brought thence two blankets, one of which he proffered me, but the night being very hot and oppressive, I declined it an
murmured the Tinker d
gen
o is Di
ny, fo
you call h
Good night, young friend! Never thought o' wr
Why do y
d to write a nov-el an' put me into it. That was years ago, an' I've sold and read
d very presently heard
with my thoughts and s
o myself at last, spea
ll never b