File:The Argosy (1865) (14756929246).jpg

Identifier: argosythe45wood (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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val forard. But this is anticipating, for before dinner we were punted acrossand landed at the v Uage. It was very rural, very picturesque, very out-of-the-way and out ofthe world, very dull and desolate. It consisted of a long street witha windmill at one end and a church at the other. We met a fewrustics and stopped and spoke to them, chiefly for the sake of hearingtheir accent. Of course, according to Norfolk custom, they alltalked in that sing-song tone which is so very singular—and so veryirrit?ting. We wanted the Post-Office, and found it at last in a mostimpossible place, away from the village and surrounded by fields.The worthy people who kept it were as stupid as owls and as sleepy,and blinked at us as if, like the beauty in the wood, they had justawakened from a hundred years sleep. But there was no beautyabout them: and when we asked if letters then posted would bedelivered in London the next morning, they replied vacantly that* mappen they would, and mappen they wouldnt.
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Q<O PQ WXH ?: O 50 A Week on ths Norfolk Broads, J. R. felt irritated, and addressed the man as if he were payinghim a compliment. Thats very satisfactory, said he. ** Pray, sir, would yourather look a greater fool than you are, or be a greater fool than youlook ? Whatever else the man looked, he looked puzzled. After thought-fully considering the matter, he replied : That there question sounds very much like rithmetic, and I neverwere good at sums. Besides that, sir, I dont see in what way ithas to do with the Post-Office, and so it cant concern me. The schoolmaster seems very much abroad in Norfolk, saidJ. R. as we left the Post-Office, laughing, crossed the fields, and wentback to the river. There the Mockingbird^ taut and trim, was safely moored, thepicture of rest and contentment. The sun was declining; thebroad light of day had sensibly diminished. Rosy clouds had risenand flecked the west, and the sunset presently grew gorgeous andpromising. It was a magnificent evening. The

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