File:The Argosy (1865) (14597473948).jpg

Identifier: argosythe31wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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e Pride, and return in the afternoon fora long, quiet chat, lead him gently into the past, and by attention andsympathy learn his history. Alas ! that afternoon saw no return, and the next morning the spotwas deserted; the caravan and the old man were gone; nothing left In the New Forest. 45 to mark what had been but a black round patch upon the moor, anda few charred embers. Across there the trees were waving andglinting in the bright sun, in all the rich tints of autumn; a wealth ofgorgeous colouring indescribably lovely, before which words are asnothing, and the very brush of the artist trembles with something ofdespair. But the little picture in the foreground, which yesterday hadgiven it so much life and animation, had been so quietly picturesque,and so vividly touched a responsive chord in ones nature, had dis-solved and disappeared, and left nothing behind it but a recollection,an unsatisfied longing, an untold story. Leaving Waterloo by a midday train, after a journey of about
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Ruruss Stone. eighty-five miles you reach Lyndhurst Station, whilst the afternoon isyet young. On the road you pass Winchester, about which we may,have something to say by-and-by; and presently, winding roundSouthampton Water, that to-day develops long reaches of unsightly,uninteresting, depressing mud, the train stops at Southampton West.One or two more stations, and we are at Ly7idhurst Road. Here very few passengers alighted, and only two entered the shabby,ramshackle omnibus that represents the inn at Lyndhurst and has totraverse the two miles of road separating the village from the station.Shabby as it is, there is no doubt as to its strength, for the men pitchheavy boxes on to the roof as if they were having a game at shuttle-cock, and they come crashing down with a sound that sends oneflying out again before worse happens. Worse, however, does nothappen, and we return to our seats expecting to see the roof crackedand split into sections like a geographical puzzle. It is quite e

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