Vignettes: A Miniature Journal of Whim and Sentiment

Transcriber’s Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
By Hubert Crackanthorpe
John Lane
The Bodley Head
London and New York
1896
The pursuit of experience is the refuge of the unimaginative.
CONTENTS
Vignettes
On the roof of the ruined church we lay, basking amid the hot, powdery heather; the cinder-coloured roofs of the town flattened out beneath us—a ragged patch of dead, decayed colour, burnt, as it seemed, out of the rank, luscious green of the Rhône valley. Overhead, a thick, blue sky hung heavy, and away and away, into the steamy haze of midday heat, filtered the Tarascon road, a streak of dazzling white. To the east, the sun was beating on the sandy slopes; to the west, the old Papal palace, like a great, grey, sleeping beast, lifted its long, bare back above the roofs of Avignon.
The lizards scurried from cranny to cranny across the crumbling wall. Below, in the cloister, a cat was curled by a black stack of brushwood. The little place stood empty, and stillness seemed to have fallen over all things.