It was very hot here; not at all like the spring weather he had left behind. And as the low sunbeams shone into Jack’s face he said hastily, without thinking of what would occur, “I wish I might land among those lovely glades on the left bank.”
No sooner said than the boat began to make for the left bank, and the nearer they got towards it the more beautiful it became; but also the more stormy were the reaches of water they had to traverse.
A lovely country indeed! It sloped gently down to the water’s edge, and beautiful trees were scattered over it, soft mossy grass grew everywhere, great old laburnum trees stretched their boughs down in patches over the water, and higher up camellias, almost as large as hawthorns, grew together and mingled their red and white flowers.
The country was not so open as a park, it was more like a half-cleared woodland; but there was a wide space just where the boat was steering for, that had no trees, only a few flowering shrubs. Here groups of strange-looking people were bustling about, and there were shrill fifes sounding, and drums.
Farther back he saw rows of booths or tents under the shade of the trees.
In another place some people dressed like gipsies had made fires of sticks just at the skirts of the woodland, and were boiling their pots. Some of these had very gaudy tilted carts, hung all over with goods, such as baskets, brushes, mats, little glasses, pottery, and beads.
It seemed to be a kind of fair, to which people had gathered from all parts; but there was not one house to be seen. All the goods were either hung upon the trees or collected in strange-looking tents.
The people were not all of the same race; indeed, he thought the only human beings were the gipsies, for the folks who had tents were no taller than himself.
“WHAT’LL YOU BUY?—WHAT’LL YOU BUY, SIR?”