II.

It was a charming evening, mild and bright. And even with the

weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensity and

uncertainty of London, Tom could not resist the captivating sense

of rapid motion through the pleasant air.

The four dappled steeds skimmed along, as if they liked it quite

as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the

horses themselves; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his

voice; the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brasswork on

the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus they went

clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on; the whole concern, from

the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to the handle of the

hind boot, was one great instrument of music.

Yoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and burns, and

people going home from work. Yoho, past donkey chaises, drawn

aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant horses,

whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse, and held by

struggling carters close to the five-barred gate, until the

coach had passed the narrow turning on the road. Yoho, by

churches dropped down by themselves in quiet nooks, with rustic

burial grounds about them, where the graves are green and daisies

sleep--for it is evening--on the bosoms of the dead.

Yoho, past streams, in which the cattle cool their feet, and

where the rushes grow; past paddock-fences, farms, and

rickyards.; past last year's stacks, cut, slice by slice, away,

and showing, in the waning light, like ruined gables, odd and

brown. Yoho, down the pebbly dip, and through the merry

watersplash, and up at a canter to the level road again.

Yoho! Yoho!

Yoho, among the gathering shades; making of no account the deep

reflections of the trees, but scampering on through light and

darkness, all the same, as if the light of London fifty miles

away were quite enough to travel by, and some to spare. Yoho,

beside the village green, where cricket players linger yet, and

every little indentation made in the fresh grass by bat or

wicket, ball or player's foot, sheds out its perfume on the

night. And then a sudden brief halt at the door of a strange

inn--the "Bald-faced Stag"--an exchange of greetings, a new

passenger, a change of teams.

The New McGuffey Fourth Reader · 第 93 / 156 题