large/6923/diary_pilgrimage_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/diaryofapilgrimage_07_jerome_64kb_17
large/6923/diary_pilgrimage_1112_librivox_64kb_mp3/diaryofapilgrimage_07_jerome_64kb
English
6923
They were the sort of villages where a man's mother in law, coming to pay him a visit, might wander around all day, hearing him, and even now and then seeing him, yet never being able to get at him in consequence of not knowing the way in. THEY WERE THE SORT OF VILLAGES WHERE A MAN'S MOTHER IN LAW COMING TO PAY HIM A VISIT MIGHT WANDER AROUND ALL DAY HEARING HIM AND EVEN NOW AND THEN SEEING HIM YET NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET AT HIM IN CONSEQUENCE OF NOT KNOWING THE WAY IN
myself, "such a work would be just the very thing with which to beguile the tedium of a long imprisonment. At some future time I may be glad of a labour of this magnitude to occupy a period of involuntary inaction." "This is the sort of thing," I said to myself, "to save up for Holloway or Pentonville." It would have been a very enjoyable ride altogether, that evening's spin along the banks of the Rhine, if I had not been haunted at the time by the idea that I should have to write an account of it next day in my diary. As it was, I enjoyed it as a man enjoys a dinner when he has got to make a speech after it, or as a critic enjoys a play. We passed such odd little villages every here and there. Little places so crowded up between the railway and the river that there was no room in them for any streets. All the houses were jumbled up together just anyhow, and how any man who lived in the middle could get home without climbing over half the other houses in the place I could not make out. NT BESIDES I ARGUED TO MYSELF SUCH A WORK WOULD BE JUST THE VERY THING WITH WHICH TO BEGUILE THE TEDIUM OF A LONG IMPRISONMENT AT SOME FUTURE TIME I MAY BE GLAD OF A LABOR OF THIS MAGNITUDE TO OCCUPY A PERIOD OF INVOLUNTARY INACTION THIS IS THE SORT OF THING I SAID TO MYSELF TO SAVE UP FOR HOLLOWAY OR PENTONVILLE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A VERY ENJOYABLE RIDE ALTOGETHER THAT EVENING'S SPIN ALONG THE BANKS OF THE RHINE IF I HAD NOT BEEN HAUNTED AT THE TIME BY THE IDEA THAT I SHOULD HAVE TO WRITE AN ACCOUNT OF IT NEXT DAY IN MY DIARY AS IT WAS I ENJOYED IT AS A MAN ENJOYS A DINNER WHEN HE HAS GOT TO MAKE A SPEECH AFTER IT OR AS A CRITIC ENJOYS A PLAY WE PASSED SUCH ODD LITTLE VILLAGES EVERY HERE AND THERE LITTLE PLACES SO CROWDED UP BETWEEN THE RAILWAY AND THE RIVER THAT THERE WAS NO ROOM IN THEM FOR ANY STREETS ALL THE HOUSES WERE JUMBLED UP TOGETHER JUST ANYHOW AND HOW ANY MAN WHO LIVED IN THE MIDDLE COULD GET HOME WITHOUT CLIMBING OVER HALF THE OTHER HOUSES OF THE PLACE I COULD NOT MAKE OUT
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