How deceitful are the views of man! I cast my line—it was a fatal cast—I struck at an imaginary or real rise, and in an instant all my hopes were crushed; for my rod broke off at the second joint, and sailing down the stream, was suddenly brought up by one of the flies hooking a fragment of rock. With much trouble I recovered the shattered top pieces, but in endeavouring to extricate my fly, my foot slipped, and I found myself up to my waist in water, and my foot jammed between two pieces of rock at the bottom, from whence I was glad to extricate it by leaving my shoe behind. It was very unfortunate. I cursed my ill-luck, sat down upon the bank, put up my flies, put my broken rod in its case, and prepared to return to my inn. But—I had only one shoe! I endeavoured to recover the lost one, but in vain. Doubtless it was buffetting its way amongst rushing waters and fragments of rock, full half a mile off by this time. How I should get to the Oakley Arms, through all the uneven stony ways, I knew not. I could not hop all the way, it was very evident; and to attempt to walk with but one shoe, would deprive me of the sole of my foot. At this moment, taking out my silk handkerchief to wipe my brows—ah!—the thing was settled. I bound it as many times doubled as I could round my foot, tying it about with a part of my fishing line, and in this lamentable state, I reached the house.
No routed warrior from the field of battle ever looked more chop-fallen than I, in re-entering my late happy dining-room. It was not an hour—no, not an hour ago—when, all elate and joyous, I walked forth, pregnant with hope and jollity. Look at me now—’twas lamentable! I rang the bell; the waiter came in, and no sooner cast his eyes on me, than he broke into an uncontrollable laugh. I confess I expected a very different reception, and my first impulse was to kick him out of the room; but casting my eyes upon my handkerchief-bound foot, turned the whole current of my feelings, and I could not forbear joining in the laugh, for the soul of me.
The waiter’s view of the case was undoubtedly the correct one. I felt it, and it was actually with difficulty I accounted to him for my present appearance, my ideas had undergone so complete a revolution from tragic to comic!
“Well—’tis a funny world,” said I; “bring me a pair of slippers, water to wash, a bottle of port, and a cigar.”
I was just in the marrow of my cigar, when two young gentlemen, who had pedestrianized from Llanrwst since the morning, entered the room. They were fair-haired Saxons, and particularly unacquainted with all they had seen in their route. I requested them to join me, and they were pleased to honour me with their company. But their stock of information being remarkably small, I resolved within myself to avoid the route they intended to pursue on the following morning, and understanding they meant to visit Harlech Castle, I informed them I should pursue my way to Tremadoc. As I could not extract any information from these tourists, I called for pen, ink and paper, and amused myself with putting down the events of the day, while one of the young men flung his legs upon the sofa, and the other placed his feet on the fender. Deep sonorous notes soon succeeded this arrangement, and I pursued my task without any other interruption, until my attention was drawn to the heavy pattering of rain against the window, and the whistling of a keen wind through the passage. I felt chilly, and drew nearer the fire. The task I imposed upon myself being finished, and the servant having brought me my bed candlestick, I retired to rest, leaving my agreeable companions in the midst of a nasal duet.
Oh, the comforts of a clean room, clean sheets, and a good bed! These I experienced at the Oakley Arms; and I arose refreshed, and eager to commence my walk; but I was doomed to disappointment, for on drawing up the blind of my window, a dark and dismal morning presented itself, the rain falling in torrents, and the lovely valley transformed into a gloomy gorge of rolling clouds. What’s to be done? thought I; jump into bed again, answered my careful spirit. I obeyed the suggestion, and slept another hour, when I again awoke, and on inspection found the day still melancholy and tearful.
I descended to the breakfast room, and there I found my quondam companions in precisely the same attitudes I had left them on the preceding night;—as motionless and silent, but their musical instruments were out of order, I suppose, as they no longer sent forth their former deep tones, and their eyes indeed were differently directed; the gentleman on the sofa inspecting the ceiling; the other profoundly scrutinizing a Dutch figure on the chimney-piece, with a foaming pot of porter in one hand, and a short pipe in the other. It was neither Souter Johnny, nor Toby Philpot; but I involuntarily roared out “dear Tom, this brown jug,” &c. It was like an electric shock to the tourists. One leaped from the sofa, and the other withdrew his feet from the fender with precipitation; first stared at each other, and then both at me, in mute astonishment. I cheerfully bade them good-morrow, and we sat down to breakfast.
Never did I pray more heartily for a shelter from the storm, than I did now for a gleam of sunshine to cheer me in this horrid calm. These rival Incubuses fretted me.—Ha! who’s that curtseying to me as she passes?—Oh she opens her basket, intimating she has something to sell; they are hose, I perceive. The rain increases rather than abates its violence.
“Come hither, my girl,” said I, as I beckoned her to come in. “She will assist in beguiling the tedious morning,
“That like a foul and ugly witch
Does limp so tediously away.”