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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Essays of Travel"


A little above, the church sits well back on its haunches against
the hillside--an attitude for a church, you know, that makes it
look as if it could be ever so much higher if it liked; and the
trees grew about it thickly, so as to make a density of shade in
the churchyard. A very quiet place it looks; and yet I saw many
boards and posters about threatening dire punishment against those
who broke the church windows or defaced the precinct, and offering
rewards for the apprehension of those who had done the like
already. It was fair day in Great Missenden. There were three
stalls set up, sub jove, for the sale of pastry and cheap toys; and
a great number of holiday children thronged about the stalls and
noisily invaded every corner of the straggling village. They came
round me by coveys, blowing simultaneously upon penny trumpets as
though they imagined I should fall to pieces like the battlements
of Jericho. I noticed one among them who could make a wheel of
himself like a London boy, and seemingly enjoyed a grave pre-
eminence upon the strength of the accomplishment. By and by,
however, the trumpets began to weary me, and I went indoors,
leaving the fair, I fancy, at its height.
Night had fallen before I ventured forth again. It was pitch-dark
in the village street, and the darkness seemed only the greater for
a light here and there in an uncurtained window or from an open
door.


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