A MYSTERIOUS SMELL 65 



redolent of it, just as it seemed peopled with the 

 chirruping sounds of innumerable sparrows. What 

 was it? I consulted my fellow-passengers on the 

 question as we strolled about the town, glad at being 

 on firm land after thirty-one days at sea; but though 

 there were Englishmen in our party, no one could 

 give me any information. They assured me that 

 they did not perceive it, and didn't believe there was 

 any such smell. I set them down as poor noseless 

 creatures with wisdom at one entrance quite shut 

 out. These voyaging companions soon drifted away, 

 leaving only one of their company, an American, 

 who said he had nothing to do except to see England, 

 and so would stay with me until I had exhausted 

 Southampton. We took long walks about the suburbs 

 and over the neighbouring beautiful common, he 

 always sticking to me, and still the strange agreeable 

 smell attended me. Then we hired a trap and youth 

 to drive, and went farther afield; we were constantly 

 shouting to our driver to tell us what that was. There 

 were sights and sounds and smells in plenty all new 

 to me. I was intoxicated with delight at listening 

 to the skylark mounting up in the blue and pouring 

 down his ecstatic music. My companion, whose mind 

 was practical, cared for none of these things, but was 

 curious about the state and system of agriculture. 

 " What do you call that ? " he shouted, pointing to 

 a field of red clover in flower as we flew past it. 

 " Grass," said our Briton. " Yes, yes, but what 

 kind of grass ? " " Grass — what the horses eat," 

 he returned. " I only wish the horses had eaten your 



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