But on they went, not the less merrily for this, and there was thelocksmith in the incautious fulness of his heart "pulling-up" atall manner of places, and evincing a most intimate acquaintancewith all the taverns on the road, and all the landlords and all thelandladies, with whom, indeed, the little horse was on equallyfriendly terms, for he kept on stopping of his own accord. Neverwere people so glad to see other people as these landlords andlandladies were to behold Mr Varden and Mrs Varden and Miss Varden;and wouldn"t they get out, said one; and they really must walkupstairs, said another; and she would take it ill and be quitecertain they were proud if they wouldn"t have a little taste ofsomething, said a third; and so on, that it was really quite aProgress rather than a ride, and one continued scene of hospitalityfrom beginning to end. It was pleasant enough to be held in suchesteem, not to mention the refreshments; so Mrs Varden said nothingat the time, and was all affability and delight--but such a body ofevidence as she collected against the unfortunate locksmith thatday, to be used thereafter as occasion might require, never was gottogether for matrimonial purposes.
In course of time--and in course of a pretty long time too, forthese agreeable interruptions delayed them not a little,--theyarrived upon the skirts of the Forest, and riding pleasantly onamong the trees, came at last to the Maypole, where the locksmith"scheerful "Yoho!" speedily brought to the porch old John, and afterhim young Joe, both of whom were so transfixed at sight of theladies, that for a moment they were perfectly unable to give themany welcome, and could do nothing but stare.
It was only for a moment, however, that Joe forgot himself, forspeedily reviving he thrust his drowsy father aside--to Mr Willet"smighty and inexpressible indignation--and darting out, stood readyto help them to alight. It was necessary for Dolly to get outfirst. Joe had her in his arms;--yes, though for a space of timeno longer than you could count one in, Joe had her in his arms.
Here was a glimpse of happiness!
It would be difficult to describe what a flat and commonplaceaffair the helping Mrs Varden out afterwards was, but Joe did it,and did it too with the best grace in the world. Then old John,who, entertaining a dull and foggy sort of idea that Mrs Vardenwasn"t fond of him, had been in some doubt whether she might nothave come for purposes of assault and battery, took courage, hopedshe was well, and offered to conduct her into the house. Thistender being amicably received, they marched in together; Joe andDolly followed, arm-in-arm, (happiness again!) and Varden broughtup the rear.
Old John would have it that they must sit in the bar, and nobodyobjecting, into the bar they went. All bars are snug places, butthe Maypole"s was the very snuggest, cosiest, and completest bar,that ever the wit of man devised. Such amazing bottles in oldoaken pigeon-holes; such gleaming tankards dangling from pegs atabout the same inclination as thirsty men would hold them to theirlips; such sturdy little Dutch kegs ranged in rows on shelves; somany lemons hanging in separate nets, and forming the fragrantgrove already mentioned in this chronicle, suggestive, with goodlyloaves of snowy sugar stowed away hard by, of punch, idealisedbeyond all mortal knowledge; such closets, such presses, suchdrawers full of pipes, such places for putting things away inhollow window-seats, all crammed to the throat with eatables,drinkables, or savoury condiments; lastly, and to crown all, astypical of the immense resources of the establishment, and itsdefiances to all visitors to cut and come again, such a stupendouscheese!
It is a poor heart that never rejoices--it must have been thepoorest, weakest, and most watery heart that ever beat, which wouldnot have warmed towards the Maypole bar. Mrs Varden"s diddirectly. She could no more have reproached John Willet amongthose household gods, the kegs and bottles, lemons, pipes, andcheese, than she could have stabbed him with his own brightcarving-knife. The order for dinner too--it might have soothed asavage. "A bit of fish," said John to the cook, "and some lambchops (breaded, with plenty of ketchup), and a good salad, and aroast spring chicken, with a dish of sausages and mashed potatoes,or something of that sort." Something of that sort! The resourcesof these inns! To talk carelessly about dishes, which inthemselves were a first-rate holiday kind of dinner, suitable toone"s wedding-day, as something of that sort: meaning, if you can"tget a spring chicken, any other trifle in the way of poultry willdo--such as a peacock, perhaps! The kitchen too, with its greatbroad cavernous chimney; the kitchen, where nothing in the way ofcookery seemed impossible; where you could believe in anything toeat, they chose to tell you of. Mrs Varden returned from thecontemplation of these wonders to the bar again, with a head quitedizzy and bewildered. Her housekeeping capacity was not largeenough to comprehend them. She was obliged to go to sleep. Wakingwas pain, in the midst of such immensity.
Dolly in the meanwhile, whose gay heart and head ran upon othermatters, passed out at the garden door, and glancing back now andthen (but of course not wondering whether Joe saw her), trippedaway by a path across the fields with which she was wellacquainted, to discharge her mission at the Warren; and thisdeponent hath been informed and verily believes, that you mighthave seen many less pleasant objects than the cherry-colouredmantle and ribbons, as they went fluttering along the green meadowsin the bright light of the day, like giddy things as they were.