CHILDRENlovetolistentostoriesabouttheirelders,whentheywerechildren;tostretchtheirimaginationtotheconceptionofatraditionarygreat-uncle,orgrandame,whomtheyneversaw.Itwasinthisspiritthatmylittleonescreptabout,metheothereveningtohearabouttheirgreat-grandmotherField,wholivedinagreathouseinNorfolk(ahundredtimesbiggerthanthatinwhichtheyandpapalived)whichhadbeenthescene——soatleastitwasgenerallybelievedinthatpartofthecountry——ofthetragicincidentswhichtheyhadlatelybeefamiliarwithfromtheballadoftheChildrenintheWood.Certainitisthatthewholestoryofthechildrenandtheircruelunclewastobeseenfairlycarvedoutinwooduponthechimney-pieceofthegreathall,thewholestorydowntotheRobinRedbreasts,tillafoolishrichPersonpulleditdowntosetupamarbleoneofmoderninventioninitsstead,withnostoryuponit.HereAliceputoutoneofherdearmotherslooks,tootendertobecalledupbraiding.ThenIwentontosay,howreligiousandhowgoodtheirgreat.grandmotherFieldwas,howbelovedandrespectedbyeverybody,thoughshewasnotindeedthemistressofthisgreathouse,buthadonlythechargeofit(andyetinsomerespectsshemightbesaidtobethemistressofittoo)mittedtoherbytheowner,whopreferredlivinginanewerandmorefashionablemansionwhichhehadpurchasedsomewhereintheadjoiningcounty;butstillshelivedinitinamannerasifithadbeenherown,andkeptupthedignityofthegreathouseinasortwhileshelived,whichafterwardscametodecay,andwasnearlypulleddown,andallitsoldornamentsstrippedandcarriedawaytotheownersotherhouse,wheretheyweresetup,andlookedasawkwardasifsomeoneweretocarryawaytheoldtombstheyhadseenlatelyattheAbbey,andstickthemupinLadyC.stawdrygiltdrawing-room.HereJohnsmiled,asmuchastosay,"thatwouldbefoolishindeed."AndthenItoldhow,whenshecametodie,herfuneralwasattendedbyaconcourseofallthepoor,andsomeofthegentrytoo,oftheneighbourhoodformanymilesround,toshowtheirrespectforhermemory,becauseshehadbeensuchagoodandreligiouswoman;sogoodindeedthatsheknewallthePsalterybyheart,ay,andagreatpartoftheTestamentbesides.HerelittleAlicespreadherhands.ThenItoldwhatatall,upright,gracefulpersontheirgreat-grandmotherFieldoncewas;andhowinheryouthshewasesteemedthebestdancer——hereAliceslittlerightfootplayedaninvoluntarymovement,till,uponmylookinggrave,itdesisted——thebestdancer,Iwassaying,inthecounty,tillacrueldisease,calledacancer,came,andbowedherdownwithpain;butitcouldneverbendhergoodspirits,ormakethemstoop,buttheywerestillupright,becauseshewassogoodandreligious.ThenItoldhowshewasusedtosleepbyherselfinalonechamberofthegreatlonehouse;andhowshebelievedthatanapparitionoftwoinfantswastobeseenatmidnightglidingupanddownthegreatstaircasenearwheresheslept,butshesaid"thoseinnocentswoulddohernoharm;"andhowfrightenedIusedtobe,thoughinthosedaysIhadmymaidtosleepwithme,becauseIwasneverhalfsogoodorreligiousasshe——andyetIneversawtheinfants.HereJohnexpandedallhiseye-browsandtriedtolookcourageous.ThenItoldhowgoodshewastoallhergrand-children,havingustothegreat-houseintheholydays,whereIinparticularusedtospendmanyhoursbymyself,ingazingupontheoldbustsoftheTwelveCaesars,thathadbeenEmperorsofRome,tilltheoldmarbleheadswouldseemtoliveagain,orItobeturnedintomarblewiththem;howInevercouldbetiredwithroamingaboutthathugemansion,withitsvastemptyrooms,withtheirworn-outhangings,flutteringtapestry,andcarvedoakenpannels,withthegildingalmostrubbedout——sometimesinthespaciousold-fashionedgardens,whichIhadalmosttomyself,unlesswhennowandthenasolitarygardeningmanwouldcrossme——andhowthenectarinesandpeacheshunguponthewalls,withoutmyeverofferingtopluckthem,becausetheywereforbiddenfruit,unlessnowandthen,——andbecauseIhadmorepleasureinstrollingaboutamongtheoldmelancholy-lookingyewtrees,orthefirs,andpickinguptheredberries,andthefirapples,whichweregoodfornothingbuttolookat——orinlyingaoutuponthefreshgrass,withallthefinegardensmellsaroundme——orbaskingintheorangery,tillIcouldalmostfancymyselfripeningtooalongwiththeorangesandthelimesinthatgratefulwarmth——orinwatchingthedacethatdartedtoandfrointhefish-pond,atthebottomofthegarden,withhereandthereagreatsulkypikehangingmidwaydownthewaterinsilentstate,asifitmockedattheirimpertinentfriskings,——Ihadmorepleasureinthesebusy-idlediversionsthaninallthesweetflavoursofpeaches,nectarines,oranges,andsuchlikemonbaitsofchildren.HereJohnslylydepositedbackupontheplateabunchofgrapes,which,notunobservedbyAlice,hehadmeditateddividingwithher,andbothseemedwillingtorelinquishthemforthepresentasirrelevant.Theninsomewhatamoreheightenedtone,Itoldhow,thoughtheirgreat-grandmotherFieldlovedallhergrand-children,yetinanespecialmannershemightbesaidtolovetheiruncle,JohnL——,becausehewassohandsomeandspiritedayouth,andakingtotherestofus;and,insteadofmopingaboutinsolitarycorners,likesomeofus,hewouldmountthemostmettlesomehorsehecouldget,whenbutanimpnobiggerthanthemselves,andmakeitcarryhimhalfoverthecountyinamorning,andjointhehunterswhentherewereanyout——andyethelovedtheoldgreathouseandgardenstoo,buthadtoomuchspirittobealwayspentupwithintheirboundaries——andhowtheirunclegrewuptomansestateasbraveashewashandsome,totheadmirationofeverybody,butoftheirgreat-grandmotherFieldmostespecially;andhowheusedtocarrymeuponhisbackwhenIwasalame-footedboy——forhewasagoodbitolderthanme——manyamilewhenIcouldnotwalkpain;——andhowinafterlifehebecamelame-footedtoo,andIdidnotalways(Ifear)makeallowancesenoughforhimwhenhewasimpatient,andinpain,norremembersufficientlyhowconsideratehehadbeentomewhenIwaslame-footed;andhowwhenhedied,thoughhehadnotbeendeadanhour,itseemedasifhehaddiedagreatwhileago,suchadistancethereisbetwixtlifeanddeath;andhowIborehisdeathasIthoughtprettywellatfirst,butafterwardsithauntedandhauntedme;andthoughIdidnotcryortakeittoheartassomedo,andasIthinkhewouldhavedoneifIhaddied,yetImissedhimalldaylong,andknewnottillthenhowmuchIhadlovedhim.Imissedhiskindness,andImissedhiscrossness,andwishedhimtobealiveagain,tobequarrellingwithhim(forwequarreledsometimes),ratherthannothavehimagain,andwasasuneasywithouthim,ashetheirpoorunclemusthavebeenwhenthedoctortookoffhislimb.Herethechildrenfellacrying,andaskediftheirlittlemourningwhichtheyhadonwasnotforuncleJohn,andtheylookedup,andprayedmenottogoonabouttheiruncle,buttotellthem,somestoriesabouttheirprettydeadmother.ThenItoldhowforsevenlongyears,inhopesometimes,sometimesindespair,yetpersistingever,IcourtedthefairAliceW——n;and,asmuchaschildrencouldunderstand,Iexplainedtothemwhatcoyness,anddifficulty,anddenialmeantinmaidens——whensuddenly,turningtoAlice,thesoulofthefirstAlicelookedoutathereyeswithsucharealityofre-presentment,thatIbecameindoubtwhichofthemstoodtherebeforeme,orwhosethatbrighthairwas;andwhileIstoodgazing,boththechildrengraduallygrewfaintertomyview,receding,andstillrecedingtillnothingatlastbuttwomournfulfeatureswereseenintheuttermostdistance,which,withoutspeech,strangelyimpresseduponmetheeffectsofspeech;"WearenotofAlice,norofthee,norarewechildrenatall.ThechildrenofAlicecalledBartrumfather.Wearenothing;lessthannothing,anddreams.Weareonlywhatmighthavebeen,andmustwaituponthetediousshoresofLethemillionsofagesbeforewehaveexistence,andaname"——andimmediatelyawaking,Ifoundmyselfquietlyseatedinmybachelorarm-chair,whereIhadfallenasleep,withthefaithfulBridgetunchangedbymyside——butJohnL.(orJamesElia)wasgoneforever.
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