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Hollowdell Grange: Holiday Hours in a Country Home, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. Sunday In The Country |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY The next day being Sunday, the boys walked over to church with Mr and Mrs Inglis--to the pretty old church that looked as if it was built of ivy, so thoroughly were tower, nave, and chancel covered with the dark green leaves, which had to be kept cut back or they would have soon covered up the windows; and even then, long green shoots were dangling about in all directions, ready to take advantage of a week or two's neglect, and commence veiling the old stone mullioned windows. This was Fred's first visit to the church, for on the first Sundays of his stay the days had been lowering, and Mr Inglis read prayers in the dining-room; and now that the lad followed his cousins out of the bright sunshine, through the old porch, and into the dim venerable-looking building, everything struck him as being so very different from what he had been accustomed to see in London. Here there were the bare whitewashed walls, with the old tablets upon them, and here and there an old rusty helmet, or a breastplate and a pair of gauntlets. Then there were the quaint old brasses of a knight or squire and his wife, with a step-like row of children by their side, and all let in the old blue slabs that paved the floor, ever which the worshippers of succeeding generations had passed for hundreds of years since. Then, too, there was the recumbent figure of the Knight Templar lying cross-legged, with his feet resting upon a dog, or some curious heraldic beast, and carved to represent his having worn chain, armour; the old oak pulpit; the fragments of stained glass in the windows; and, above all, the quaint appearance of many of the country people, dressed as they were in their Sunday best. These were among the things that took Fred's especial attention when he first entered the old village church; but when, instead of an organ, the choir commenced singing to the accompaniment of an old clarionet, a bassoon, and bass viol, Fred was completely astonished, for he had never been in a church before where there was not an imposing-looking instrument, with its large rows of gilt pipes. However, the hymn, in spite of the bad accompaniment, was very sweetly sung, and the service beautifully read in the soft silence of that old, old church, with the thousand scents of the country floating in through the open doors and windows, like Nature's own incense entering the temple of Nature's God. Fred sat and listened, and by degrees all that was quaint and odd seemed to fade away, and leave nothing but the solemn stillness of the place, with the calm impressive voice of the clergyman telling of the goodness and love of his Maker. Then, too, the quiet walk back, with the breeze gently waving the corn now in full ear, making shade after shade of green appear to sweep over the surface of the many acres of rank wheat. The river, too, seemed to sparkle clearer and brighter than ever as the bright sun's rays flashed from the little Tipples. Altogether, Fred could not help, boy as he was, contrasting the bright country air and the lovely landscape with the fashionable London church in fashionable London: the hot dusty pavement--the noisy street and the oppressive choky air; and then he thought how he would like to live at Hollowdell for ever. Boys are very quick in making their determinations, and Fred thought he was quite right in his; but he had never been down there in the winter, when the clay stuck to the boots, and the leaves had forsaken the trees; when the cold soaking rain came drenching down for day after day, and ofttimes the swollen river would be flooding the meadows. Fred had never realised the country in those times, when it was in such a state that by preference those who could stayed as much indoors as possible; but no one, to have looked at the present aspect of things, could have supposed such a change possible. Sunday in the country, in the long bright days of summer, truly is delightful, for it is only then that the young fully realise the calmness and beauty, for the cessation from sports leaves the young minds time to think a little more upon what is around them. But I find that I am getting into too serious a strain, and my young readers will be for skipping all this portion of my story; so I must hasten to say that the calm summer evening was spent in a delightful walk down by the pleasant wood-side, where out of their reach the party could see, as it grew later, the light mists begin to curl above the river in many a graceful fold. Fred's friend, the night-jar, was out, and the nightingale in full call, while every now and then his sweet song was interrupted by the harsh "Tu--whoo--hoo--hoo--oo," of an owl somewhere in the recesses of the wood. Then the return home was made, and soon after the lads were asleep and dreaming of their botanical trip to the Camp Hill. _ |
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