Читать книгу A Danish Parsonage - John Fulford Vicary - Страница 6

Table of Contents

"Piscator. Oh, sir! doubt not but that Angling is an art. Is it not an art to deceive a Trout with an artificial fly?—a Trout that is more sharp-sighted than any Hawk you have named, and more watchful and timorous than your high-mettled Merlin is bold. And yet I doubt not to catch a brace or two to-morrow for a friend's breakfast."—The Complete Angler.

John Hardy had lived with his mother at Hardy Place. His father had died when he was six years of age, and there was consequently a long minority of fifteen years. The greatest influence in John Hardy's life was a trout stream that ran winding through an English landscape for four miles in the Hardys' property. John Hardy fished it as a schoolboy, and it was the greatest triumph he experienced as a lad, to catch more trout in it with a fly than the numerous fly-fishers to whom Mrs. Hardy's kindness gave permission. When college days came, John Hardy, ever intent on fishing, went to Norway in the vacation with the checkered result of getting an occasional salmon, and in the smaller streams on the fjelds a quantity of small trout. The grand scenery in the fjords, and the kindly nature of the people, led John Hardy to more remote districts, where sport was better, the fare and quarters worse, but some acquisition of Scandinavian language a necessity.

Thus John Hardy not only gradually acquired a knowledge of many dialects in Scandinavia, but the ability to read and understand the simpler books in the language. He travelled and fished through Norway and Sweden, and by degrees learnt, from the necessity of speaking it, more and more of the Danish language, the language of Scandinavia, as English relatively is to broad Scotch. This naturally led to his going to Denmark, and his travelling through Jutland and the Danish islands. In Jutland he accidentally fished in a West Jutland river, and to his surprise found the difficult but good fishing that his heart longed for.

John Hardy returned home, and was at Hardy Place with his mother the whole winter, and then, as April came round with the fishing season, John became restless, and told his mother of his Danish fishing experiences, and left for Copenhagen. His mother said, "Write me once a week, John, and bring me home a Scandinavian princess for your wife." John Hardy promised to write, but said he thought Scandinavian princesses did not rise to a fly. His mother's face grew grave, and she said, "You should marry soon, John; you are twenty-eight, and I want to see you married to a wife to whom you can trust Hardy Place and the care of your mother in her old age."

"I can find no one yet, dear mother," said John Hardy. "I cannot bear you should have any one at Hardy Place you did not only like but love."

"Bless you, John," said his mother. "I trust in your love; and I know some men are such gentlemen, and so was your father, and so are you, John."

So Hardy left for Copenhagen by the English steamer from Hull to St. Petersburg, and was landed in the pilot-boat at Elsinore, and went thence by rail to Copenhagen. On the journey John Hardy thought that his best course was to get lodgings with a respectable family in Jutland near the Gudenaa, the little river that embouches in the Randers fjord and flows through part of Jutland, and is the principal river in it.

John Hardy had taken from his bankers introductions to persons in Copenhagen, to whom he had communicated his wishes. The result was an advertisement in the Berlinske Tidende that an Englishman required lodgings near the Gudenaa, with an opportunity of being taught the Danish language. The replies were many and of a very varied character, as might be anticipated from such an advertisement.

But John Hardy received a reply from a Danish clergyman in Jutland, which struck his fancy beyond the rest. It was as follows:—

"In reply to the advertisement in the Berlinske Tidende of yesterday's date, I beg to offer lodgings in my house. It is a small parsonage in Jutland, and the Gudenaa is near. There is a towing-path on the banks, and where such exists the fishing is free, consequently no difficulty will arise as to permission to fish. The fishing is not particularly good, and if great anticipations exist on this score, I must say that they will not, in my opinion, be realized. Small fish on which the trout feed are abundant, as also the cadis worm and fly, and the trout do not take readily an artificial bait, either fly or minnow. I cannot, therefore, say that I think many trout can be caught. There is also much fishing with small nets. I can, however, teach Danish to an Englishman, although my knowledge of English is imperfect; but on the other hand, if the advertiser will teach my two sons, of sixteen and fourteen years of age, English, I should require no payment from him. I am a widower, with a daughter and the two sons already named. I can only add that he would be received kindly, and treated as a member of my family."

The straightforwardness of this communication had its effect on John Hardy's open character, and he replied that he would accept the conditions stipulated, but that he could do so only on a payment of a monthly sum, which he was advised in Copenhagen was a full compensation, and rather more than would be expected, for the accommodation and cost that might be incurred by the Danish Pastor.

The reply from the Jutland parsonage was: "The evident consideration shown by your answer to my letter should be sufficient, but before you come here will you kindly give me references in Copenhagen, or, if that be difficult, in England, where I might make inquiry. I am the Pastor of the parish where I reside, and it is due to my position that I should make inquiry before I can admit any one to my house under any circumstances. I do not wish to ask what is not right or reasonable, but as I am situated it is a necessity, however advantageous your coming here might be to me."

This reply impressed John Hardy more than the previous communication, and he replied with the address of a bank in Copenhagen, with reference to his own bankers in London, for which John Hardy had to wait a week in Copenhagen. These replies were to the effect that John Hardy was a gentleman of position and character in England, and that any amount that might be incurred by him for expenses in Denmark would at once be paid by the Danish bank.

John Hardy, it must be confessed, would rather have been fishing in the Gudenaa than waiting for references that would show he was to be trusted in a Danish household; but he was assured in Copenhagen that in Jutland an introduction is not only necessary, but that it should be supported by references, which when once done in a satisfactory manner, then the natural kindness of the Jutland people would be open to him. John Hardy's later experiences led him to recognize how true the advice he received in Copenhagen was in this respect.

He left Copenhagen by the steamer for Aarhus, and went by rail to a small station on the railway, where the Pastor met him with a two-horse vehicle, that made the small distance of eight English miles a journey of nearly three hours. The Pastor was a man of fifty, with a fresh complexion and a kindly face, and asked many questions of John Hardy's family and friends, his position in England, his age, the income from his landed property, and his views and intentions in life.

John Hardy had, however, heard he must expect this, and answered simply and frankly.

When at length the little Danish parsonage was reached, with its whitewashed garden wall, with poplar trees and lilac bushes, John Hardy felt it was a relief to escape the close cross-examination to which he had been so long subjected, and to see the Pastor's two boys running out with eager curiosity to inspect the Englishman, and assist in taking his luggage to the room apportioned to him.

"We shall have dinner shortly," said the Pastor. "Helga is not here to meet us, and that is a sign that we shall not wait long. Karl and Axel will show you your room and bring anything you may want, and help you to unpack your portmanteaus."

John Hardy went to his room—a room with little furniture, but adapted as a sitting-room or bedroom. The two boys, with the desire that all boys have to be useful to a guest, assisted in undoing his luggage, and John Hardy was soon ready to follow them to the little dining-room of the parsonage.

The table was laid with a little bunch of wild flowers and grasses here and there, but with little else. The Pastor received Hardy in a more friendly manner than he had exhibited before, and his daughter Helga appeared from a door leading from the kitchen, and was introduced by her father. John Hardy saw a tall woman of twenty, with fair hair and violet eyes, and bowed. The dinner was borne in by two women-servants, and Helga signed to John Hardy where he should sit.

There was little conversation at dinner. John Hardy, for his part, was hungry, and also knew little Danish; but gradually, as the more substantial dishes disappeared, conversation arose, and John Hardy turned its direction to the fishing in the Gudenaa.

"Your frank letters to me," said Hardy, "would not lead me to expect much; but there are trout in the Gudenaa, and it might be that a few might be caught."

"You will not catch them with a fly, after the English fashion," said Karl. "An Englishman that came from Randers has been here, and he caught three only in a whole day."

"I fear Karl is right," said the Pastor. "There is such an abundance of fish-food in the Gudenaa, that a means of catching them that leaves no option to the fish is apparently the only successful method."

"That is the very position that interests me," replied Hardy. "The difficulty is the only pleasure in the sport."

"They fish with the lines set at night, baited with a small fish, and catch, not only trout, but eels," said Karl. "You might try that. But they do not catch many."

Helga had brought her father a large porcelain pipe with a long stem, and the Pastor was smoking slowly and vigorously. Coffee was brought in, and Helga offered Hardy a large pipe like her father's. This he declined.

"Do you not smoke?" said the Pastor.

"Yes," replied Hardy; "but we are not accustomed to do so in a lady's presence in England; and what an English gentleman would do in England he should do in Denmark."

"Good," said the Pastor, "very good. But it is our custom to smoke. The practice is habitual with us. Helga, will you speak?"

"I should be sorry you did not smoke, Herr Hardy," said Helga. "My father likes to have some one smoking at the same time. It will be a comfort to him."

So John lit a cigar with some misgiving; and he sent Karl up to his room for a courier-bag, in which he had some fishing-books with trout-flies. Karl and Axel looked at the English trout-flies with interest.

"Those feathered things," said Karl, "I have seen used, but they only catch small trout, and now and then a bleak. I have seen Englishmen use them here from Randers."

John Hardy selected three flies and put them on a casting-line, and wound it round his hat, and he said, "Now, will you two boys go with me to fish at six o'clock to-morrow morning?"

"Yes, that will we," said Karl. "Kirstin will call us, and will have coffee ready an hour earlier than usual, if you wish it."

"Am I disturbing your house, Herr Pastor," said Hardy, "by suggesting this to your boys?"

"By no means," said the Pastor. "It is now Thursday, and we shall not expect you to begin to teach them English until Monday, and the boys can have a free time until then. We have breakfast at ten to eleven, and you would have time to fish a little; and Kirstin will give you some bread and butter and coffee at six."

"There is nothing unusual in this, Herr Hardy," said Frøken Helga, in reply to a look of surprise from Hardy. "It will put us to no inconvenience."

"That may be," said the Pastor; "but I think you should clearly understand that you are not likely to catch any trout."

"That," said Hardy, "we must leave to the trout to decide."