This eBook was produced by Dagny,
and David Widger
KENELM CHILLINGLY had quitted the paternal home at daybreak before anyof the household was astir. "Unquestionably," said he, as he walkedalong the solitary lanes,—"unquestionably I begin the world as poetsbegin poetry, an imitator and a plagiarist. I am imitating anitinerant verse-maker, as, no doubt, he began by imitating some othermaker of verse. But if there be anything in me, it will work itselfout in original form. And, after all, the verse-maker is not theinventor of ideas. Adventure on foot is a notion that remounts to theage of fable. Hercules, for instance; that was the way in which hegot to heaven, as a foot-traveller. How solitary the world is at thishour! Is it not for that reason that this is of all hours the mostbeautiful?"
Here he paused, and looked around and above. It was the very heightof summer. The sun was just rising over gentle sloping uplands. Allthe dews on the hedgerows sparkled. There was not a cloud in theheavens. Up rose from the green blades of corn a solitary skylark.His voice woke up the other birds. A few minutes more and the joyousconcert began. Kenelm reverently doffed his hat, and bowed his headin mute homage and thanksgiving.
ABOUT nine o'clock Kenelm entered a town some twelve miles distantfrom his father's house, and towards which he had designedly made hisway, because in that town he was scarcely if at all known by sight,and he might there make the purchases he required without attractingany marked observation. He had selected for his travelling costume ashooting-dress, as the simplest and least likely to belong to his rankas a gentleman. But still in its very cut there was an air ofdistinction, and every labourer he had met on the way had touched hishat to him. Besides, who wears a shooting-dress in the middle ofJune, or a shooting-dress at all, unless he be either a game-keeper ora gentleman licensed to shoot?
Kenelm entered a large store-shop for ready-made clothes and purchaseda suit such as might be worn on Sundays by a small country yeoman ortenant-farmer of a petty holding,—a stout coarse broadcloth uppergarment, half coat, half jacket, with waistcoat to match, strongcorduroy trousers, a smart Belcher neckcloth, with a small stock oflinen and woollen socks in harmony with the other raiment. He boughtalso a leathern knapsack, just big enough to contain this wardrobe,and a couple of books, which with his combs and brushes he had broughtaway in his pockets; for among all his trunks at home there was noknapsack.
These purchases made and paid for, he passed quickly through the town,and stopped at a humble inn at the outskirt, to which he was attractedby the notice, "Refreshment for man and beast." He entered a littlesanded parlour, which at that hour he had all to himself, called forbreakfast, and devoured the best part of a fourpenny loaf with acouple of hard eggs.
Thus recruited, he again sallied forth, and deviating into a thickwood by the roadside, he exchanged the habiliments with which he hadleft home for those he had purchased, and by the help of one or twobig stones sunk the relinquished garments into a small but deep poolwhich he was lucky enough to find in a bush-grown dell much haunted bysnipes in the winter.
"Now," said Kenelm, "I really begin to think I have got out of myself.I am in another man's skin; for what, after all, is a skin but asoul's clothing, and what is clothing but a decenter skin? Of its ownnatur