In a little
while the road would take us westward, here through a wood banked
with primroses, there across a common or between high spring hedges
with the little stream babbling ever at the side of us. And in the
evening we would come to an inn, where there would be good company,
and we would sing and play to them, and they would reward us. (With
a shrug) It is a pleasant life.
DAUGHTER (eagerly). Oh, go on!
MOTHER. Yes, go on, Sir.
TALKER. We were lying on our backs thus, Madame, when we heard the
nightingale. "Duke," says I, "it is early yet for the nightingale."
His Flutiness removes his cap from his face, takes a squint at the
sun, and says "Monstrous early, good Master Johannes," and claps
his cap back again. "What says you, Fiddler," says I, "in this
matter of nightingales? Is it possible," says I; "the sun being
where it is, and nightingales being what they are--to wit,
nightingales?" "It's not a nightingale," says Fiddler dreamily,
"it's a girl." "Then," says I, jumping up, "it is a girl we want.
She must put the red feather in her cap, and come her ways with
us." (With a bow) Madame, your humble servant.
DAUGHTER. Oh, Mother, you will let me go, won't you? I must, I
must! He is quite right. I'm caged here. Oh, you will let me see
something of the world before I grow old!
FIDDLER (suddenly).
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229