The morning call., 1892-12-15
THE GLASS HOUSE.

1t was one day as / was trudging along
across the moors on the way TO the goose
fair that first made Fortunio's acQuaint-
anee. wore new pair OF corduroys that
smelt outrageously-and squeaked. too. as l
trotted briskly along the 'Dleak high road;
for had bright shilling to spend, and 1t
burnt hole in my pocket was planning
my purchases when / noticed on a windy
sminenee of the road ahead mans figure
sharply defined against the sky.
He was driving flock of geese so slowly
that soon caught up; and such man OF such
geese / had never seen. To begin with, his
rags were worse THAN q scarecrow's. In
one hand he carried long staff; the other
held a small book close under his nose and
his lean shoulders bent over as he read In
IT. 1t was clear from the mans undecided
gait that all his eyes were for his book.
Only he would look UP when one OF his
birds straysd too far On the turf that lined
the highway, and would guide Ii back to
the stones again with his staff. AS for the
geese. they were utterly dTaggIe- tailed and
stained with travel, and waddled, every
one. with so woe-begOne a limp that had
TO laugh as / passed.
The man glanced up, set his forefnger
between the pages OF his book and turned
on me long, sallow face and a pair of
the most beautiful brown eyes In the
world.
Little boy" he said. In a quick, foreign
way. rosy ssgy little boy you laugh at my
No doubt stared at him like ninny. for
ha went on:
Little, wide mouthed Cupidon. how you
gaze. Also. by the way, how you smell!'
Its my corduroys," said |.
Then L discommend your corduroys.
But approve your laugh. Laugh again
emily at the right matter Laugh at this:
And. opening bis book again, he read
long passage as l walked beside him; but
could make neither head nor tail of it.
''That 10 from the Sentimental Journey
by Laurence Sterne. the most beautiful OF
your English wits. All, he is more than
Frenchl Laugh a. It,"
1t was rather hard to laugh thus to order,
but suddenly he set me the example, show
Ing TWO rows OF very white teeth and fetch
ing from his hollow chest a sound OF mirth
30 incongruous with the whole aspect Of the
man that began to grin also.
THAT'S right, but be louder. Make the
sounds that you made just now"
He broke off sharply, being seized with
an ugly fit Of coughing, that forced him to
halt and lean on his staff for while.
When he recovered we walked on together
after the geese, be talking all the way in
higb-fown sentences that were Greek to me,
and stealing look every now and then at
his olive face, and half inclined to take to
my heels and run.
We came at length TO the ridge where the
road dives suddenly into Tregarrick. The
sun-for the morning was still fresh-did
not yet pierce to the bottom of the valley.
but fell on the hillside opposite, where cot
tage-gardens in parallel strips climbed up
from the town to the moorland beyond.
"What Is that?" asked the goose-driveT
touching my arm and pointing to dazzling
spot on the slope opposite.
That's the sun Cd the windows of Gar
dener Topken's glass house."
''Eh? Does he live there?'
Hes dead and the gardens TO let; you
can just see the board from here. But he
didn't live there, of course. People don't
live in glass houses; only plants"
That's pity, little boy. for their souls
sakes. 1t reminds me of stOry-by the
way, do you know Latin? No? Well,
listen to this: II | can sellmy geese to-day.
perhaps / will hire that glass house. and
You shall come there on half holidays and
learn Latin Now run ahead and spend
your money"
Twas glad to escape. and In the hustle OF