1830.] [ 379 



THE FIEND OF THE FERRY. 



IT was on a morning in the month of June that we found ourselves 

 wandering about a little village on the banks of the Thames, two or 

 three miles below Kingston. The day might be said to be an exotic. 

 There was a rich, deep, clear Italian sky a broad, bright river re- 

 flecting it. The roads had been sprinkled by a shower during the 

 night. The sunshine animated every thing, and yet the heat was not 

 excessive. There was little shadow to be seen the light penetrated 

 through the hedges, and gave a transparent effect to their green leaves. 

 The scene, the climate time, space all seemed to have been touched 

 by a wand. And, I verily believe, there was indeed a spirit of enchant- 

 ment at work at that hour, which will account conveniently enough for 

 the marvel and the mystery I am about to record. 



We were in the most exuberant spirits like school-boys let loose 

 without a task. Dr. Johnson, when he put the final full-stop to his 

 dictionary ; a play-wright, when after three years of nervous agony, 

 and wishing theatres, managers, actors and all, in Erebus, a hundred 

 times over he sees the curtain drop in the midst of applause, and the 

 bowing actor, who comes forward to announce his second night, swept 

 off in a tempest of acclamation ; a pedestrian, walking the thousandth 

 mile of his wager, and having half a day to do it in could form but 

 a faint idea of our enjoyment. Whether this arose from the pleasant, 

 rambling, unpremeditated kind of way in which we had spent the pre- 

 vious day, or from the effect of the delightful weather and the scenes 

 that surrounded us, need not be determined. But there we were, full 

 of such true mad-cap merriment, that had we lighted upon old Jack 

 Falstaff, we had infallibly committed robbery for very sport, and made 

 an Eastcheap of the first inn we could take by storm. Nothing escaped 

 us that morning ; we 



" Found puns in trees, pranks in the running brooks, 

 Laughter in stones, arid jokes in every thing." 



In this mood we strolled about, careless of the way we were going, 

 and ripe for romantic incident. At last, we resolved upon crossing the 

 river, and were informed that we were near a ferry, to which we imme- 

 diately directed our course. A joke, however, sprung up in the interim, 

 and took us half a mile out of the way in running it down. We then 

 perceived that we had missed the path, and were about to return, when 

 we were overtaken by a being but I will not, at this period of our 

 history, attempt to describe him ; as, in fact, we took but very little 

 notice of him at this encounter. We merely inquired the way to the 

 ferry, received the desired information, and, as the stranger walked on 

 before us at a pretty quick pace, we soon lost sight of him. 



We proceeded in the path pointed out to us, when some odd, joke- 

 engendering name, over a shop door, called off our attention, and 

 we were once more at a loss. A debate ensued amongst us ; one 

 contending that we were to go down the lane and another, by the 

 clump of trees. Our embarrassment was, of course, only productive of 

 more mirth, and we at length agreed to follow the movements of a 

 peripatetic pig, which was lounging about in a state of self-enjoyment, 

 and looked as though he longed to make one of our party. The 



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