第 5 节
作者:
温暖寒冬 更新:2024-04-09 19:50 字数:9205
many a time; it’s the dileck; says he。”
“Aye; aye;” said the stranger; smiling。 “I know it very well。 But
you’ve not got many Methodists about here; surely—in this
agricultural spot? I should have thought there would hardly be
such a thing as a Methodist to be found about here。 You’re all
farmers; aren’t you? The Methodists can seldom lay much hold on
them。”
“Why; sir; there’s a pretty lot o’ workmen round about; sir。
There’s Mester Burge as owns the timber…yard over there; he
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underteks a good bit o’ building an’ repairs。 An’ there’s the stone…
pits not far off。 There’s plenty of emply i’ this countryside; sir。 An’
there’s a fine batch o’ Methodisses at Treddles’on—that’s the
market town about three mile off—you’ll maybe ha’ come through
it; sir。 There’s pretty nigh a score of ’em on the Green now; as
come from there。 That’s where our people gets it from; though
there’s only two men of ’em in all Hayslope: that’s Will Maskery;
the wheelwright; and Seth Bede; a young man as works at the
carpenterin’。”
“The preacher comes from Treddleston; then; does she?”
“Nay; sir; she comes out o’ Stonyshire; pretty nigh thirty mile
off。 But she’s a…visitin’ hereabout at Mester Poyser’s at the Hall
Farm—it’s them barns an’ big walnut…trees; right away to the left;
sir。 She’s own niece to Poyser’s wife; an’ they’ll be fine an’ vexed at
her for making a fool of herself i’ that way。 But I’ve heared as
there’s no holding these Methodisses when the maggit’s once got i’
their head: many of ’em goes stark starin’ mad wi’ their religion。
Though this young woman’s quiet enough to look at; by what I can
make out; I’ve not seen her myself。”
“Well; I wish I had time to wait and see her; but I must get on。
I’ve been out of my way for the last twenty minutes to have a look
at that place in the valley。 It’s Squire Donnithorne’s; I suppose?”
“Yes; sir; that’s Donnithorne Chase; that is。 Fine hoaks there;
isn’t there; sir? I should know what it is; sir; for I’ve lived butler
there a…going i’ fifteen year。 It’s Captain Donnithorne as is th’ heir;
sir—Squire Donnithorne’s grandson。 He’ll be comin’ of hage this
’ay…’arvest; sir; an’ we shall hev fine doin’s。 He owns all the land
about here; sir; Squire Donnithorne does。”
“Well; it’s a pretty spot; whoever may own it;” said the traveller;
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mounting his horse; “and one meets some fine strapping fellows
about too。 I met as fine a young fellow as ever I saw in my life;
about half an hour ago; before I came up the hill—a carpenter; a
tall; broad…shouldered fellow with black hair and black eyes;
marching along like a soldier。 We want such fellows as he to lick
the French。”
“Aye; sir; that’s Adam Bede; that is; I’ll be bound—Thias Bede’s
son everybody knows him hereabout。 He’s an uncommon clever
stiddy fellow; an’ wonderful strong。 Lord bless you; sir—if you’ll
hexcuse me for saying so—he can walk forty mile a…day; an’ lift a
matter o’ sixty ston’。 He’s an uncommon favourite wi’ the gentry;
sir: Captain Donnithorne and Parson Irwine meks a fine fuss wi’
him。 But he’s a little lifted up an’ peppery…like。”
“Well; good evening to you; landlord; I must get on。”
“Your servant; sir; good evenin’。”
The traveller put his horse into a quick walk up the village; but
when he approached the Green; the beauty of the view that lay on
his right hand; the singular contrast presented by the groups of
villagers with the knot of Methodists near the maple; and perhaps
yet more; curiosity to see the young female preacher; proved too
much for his anxiety to get to the end of his journey; and he
paused。
The Green lay at the extremity of the village; and from it the
road branched off in two directions; one leading farther up the hill
by the church; and the other winding gently down towards the
valley。 On the side of the Green that led towards the church; the
broken line of thatched cottages was continued nearly to the
churchyard gate; but on the opposite north…western side; there
was nothing to obstruct the view of gently swelling meadow; and
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wooded valley; and dark masses of distant hill。 That rich
undulating district of Loamshire to which Hayslope belonged lies
close to a grim outskirt of Stonyshire; overlooked by its barren
hills as a pretty blooming sister may sometimes be seen linked in
the arm of a rugged; tall; swarthy brother; and in two or three
hours’ ride the traveller might exchange a bleak treeless region;
intersected by lines of cold grey stone; for one where his road
wound under the shelter of woods; or up swelling hills; muffled
with hedgerows and long meadow…grass and thick corn; and
where at every turn he came upon some fine old country…seat
nestled in the valley or crowning the slope; some homestead with
its long length of barn and its cluster of golden ricks; some grey
steeple looking out from a pretty confusion of trees and thatch and
dark…red tiles。 It was just such a picture as this last that Hayslope
Church had made to the traveller as he began to mount the gentle
slope leading to its pleasant uplands; and now from his station
near the Green he had before him in one view nearly all the other
typical features of this pleasant land。 High up against the horizon
were the huge conical masses of hill; like giant mounds intended
to fortify this region of corn and grass against the keen and hungry
winds of the north; not distant enough to be clothed in purple
mystery; but with sombre greenish sides visibly specked with
sheep; whose motion was only revealed by memory; not detected
by sight; wooed from day to day by the changing hours; but
responding with no change in themselves—left for ever grim and
sullen after the flush of morning; the winged gleams of the April
noonday; the parting crimson glory of the ripening summer sun。
And directly below them the eye rested on a more advanced line of
hanging woods; divided by bright patches of pasture or furrowed
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crops; and not yet deepened into the uniform leafy curtains of high
summer; but still showing the warm tints of the young oak and the
tender green of the ash and lime。 Then came the valley; where the
woods grew thicker; as if they had rolled down and hurried
together from the patches left smooth on the slope; that they might
take the better care of the tall mansion which lifted its parapets
and sent its faint blue summer smoke among them。 Doubtless
there was a large sweep of park and a broad glassy pool in front of
that mansion; but the swelling slope of meadow would not let our
traveller see them from the village green。 He saw instead a
foreground which was just as lovely—the level sunlight lying like
transparent gold among the gently curving stems of the feathered
grass and the tall red sorrel; and the white ambels of the hemlocks
lining the bushy hedgerows。 It was that moment in summer when
the sound of the scythe being whetted makes us cas