Peregrine's Progress

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