The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1889-02-23
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AMONG THE LAVENDER.
From All the Year Round.
CHAPTER /.

II told you so, said my friend, Jack
Carlyon, looking across at me with that
peculiarly aggravating expression of count
enance that always accompanies the utter,
ance of TIE above sentence
was oEt of sorts and easily irritated.
9If you did it doesn't make it any the
better or the pleasanter," answered. Il
could better have afforded to take a spell
of the entire aud complete rest this fool
pirates about at any other time than just
now.
II never knew a fellow that didn't say
that when he'd got his back into a job, and
had to give it up for bn-dont't you
know p said Jack, curling up one corner
of his tawuy moustaehe with his strong,
little fingers, and looking the Personifcation
Of perfect health and manly strength, while
T."
Wen, well, it was all very well for me
to call DIR. Marchmont a fool. Ii let the
steam of, somehow, but long array Of
sleepless nights, backed up BY an army Of
lesser symptoms. which my own medical
knowledge told me spelt the word ''over-
worked, convinced me that his kindly and
urgent counsel was true, and that few men
in London stood in greater need Of a spell
Of rest and recruiting than Stephen Altar
dyce-meaniEg myself.
When you get to ''Oyerworked the next
station on the journey Is ''broken down.
[ did not wish to attain to this last. Z
resolved to leave London, bury myself
among green helds, apple orchards and
haystaeks, aud give myself up entirely to
the eonjugation Of the verb TO lazy Not
a manuscript viii I look at, much less
write; net 3 proof viii l correct All my
intellectual faculties shall lie fallow for this
needful space for rest. My thinking powers
are my stock 10 trade; | must needs hus-
band them.
The problem how best to attain to this
perfection of rural happiness aud idleness
faced me piiilessly.
Country lodgiugs? Bah Bad cook
cry, ill-ventilated rooms, long-legged spiders
on the bread and butter Perish the
thought A country hotel Worse still.
Yokels keeping festival on Saturday nights;
mingled smell of tepid beer and stable
yard pervading everything. The very
thought was irritating, aud opened my
morning paper with an Hnamiable jerk.
I'll temper ought NOT, one would think
to be rewarded Mine was.
An advertisement stared me IN the face;
message that might almost seem 70 have
been sent straight from heaven
Address NJ. r., Orchard Farm, near
wortlebury A single gentleman can have
the use Of two airy rooms and attendance
Terms moderate. Good fishing.
Now | love fishing. look upon it as !
delicious phase Of idleness.
Half my days swinging in a hammock
underneath the eheekered shadow of the
apple boughs, with no companion save pips
or cigarette, as the mood dictates; the other
/ half lounging on a rivers brink, crushing
the forget-me- nots and the golden king
cups, and watching my rod-not eagerly
only lazily-for the bite which may com,
or not, as it pleases. A month Of such
/ life as this and / should become vulgarll
robust; should sleep ike one of the Sevei
Sleepers, and relish the plainest food like ;
plowboy. But then the plain food mus
be well cooked and eleanly served. There
in lies the difference between my possibili
ties and the plowboys.
| was, however, of mind to think tn
food would be well dressed and cleanly-
nay, perhaps, daintily served. For | wrOt
to NJ. r., and Nj. r. replied, and her lette
was the letter of gentlewoman-
Orchard Farm How delightfully."- sug
gestivc a name. Doubtless apple tree
there grow in a juxtaposition exactly fttet
for the needs Of that hammock in which
am to swing beneath earth and sky,
thought to myself doubtless the grass
deliciously green; the apples nesting on tn
boughs delieiously pink on one plum
cheek. aud the thrushes laugh softly, as
with eager beak, they test the juices of tn
ripening plum. This last idea is perhap
hardly correct from the farmers point Q
view, and might offend NJ Rs. thrifty sou
but love the sound of the thrush's gun
Cling laugh, so let it stand, even at the sac
rifce of plum or two.
:'Don't you get to scribbling now, sal
Jack Carlyon, as he took leave of me Q
the Paddington platform. "YOu've ovel
done it, you know; and tell you what
is, you'll break down, you know, if 20
don't look out"
Like bird that sings the same fe'
notes over and over again, Jack has pipe
the same tune to me persistently for som
while back. It is a most unpleasant thin
to be told the same thing over and owe
again. 1t is ever so much worse when tn
thing is true. almost hated Jack as tn
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