After a shower the
hawthorn blossoms are delightfully fragrant. Golden tassels of the
laburnum are abundant.
I may have mentioned elsewhere the traditional prophecy, that, when the
ivy should reach the top of Bebbington spire, the tower was doomed to
fall. It lies still, therefore, a chance of standing for centuries. Mr.
Turner tells me that the font now used is inside of the church, but the
one outside is of unknown antiquity, and that it was customary, in
papistical time, to have the font without the church.
There is a little boy often on board the Rock Ferry steamer with an
accordion,--an instrument I detest; but nevertheless it becomes tolerable
in his hands, not so much for its music, as for the earnestness and
interest with which he plays it. His body and the accordion together
become one musical instrument on which his soul plays tunes, for he sways
and vibrates with the music from head to foot and throughout his frame,
half closing his eyes and uplifting his face, as painters represent St.
Cecilia and other famous musicians; and sometimes he swings his accordion
in the air, as if in a perfect rapture. After all, my ears, though not
very nice, are somewhat tortured by his melodies, especially when
confined within the cabin. The boy is ten years old, perhaps, and rather
pretty; clean, too, and neatly dressed, very unlike all other street and
vagabond children whom I have seen in Liverpool.
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