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RETURNING HOME

ANTHONY TROLLOPE

It is generally supposed that people who live at home--good
domestic people who love tea and their arm-chairs and who keep the
parlour hearth-rug ever warm--it is generally supposed that these
are the people who value home the most and best appreciate all the
comforts of that cherished institution. I am inclined to doubt
this. It is I think to those who live farthest away from home to
those who find the greatest difficulty in visiting home that the
word conveys the sweetest idea. In some distant parts of the world
it may be that an Englishman acknowledges his permanent resting
place; but there are many others in which he will not call his daily
house his home. He would in his own idea desecrate the word by
doing so. His home is across the blue waters in the little
northern island which perhaps he may visit no more; which he has
left at any rate for half his life; from which circumstances and
the necessity of living have banished him. His home is still in
England and when he speaks of home his thoughts are there.

No one can understand the intensity of this feeling who has not seen
or felt the absence of interest in life which falls to the lot of
many who have to eat their bread on distant soils. We are all apt
to think that a life in strange countries will be a life of
excitement of stirring enterprise and varied scenes;--that in
abandoning the comforts of home we shall receive in exchange more
of movement and of adventure than would come in our way in our own
tame country; and this feeling has I am sure sent many a young man
roaming. Take any spirited fellow of twenty and ask him whether he
would like to go to Mexico for the next ten years! Prudence and his
father may ultimately save him from such banishment but he will not
refuse without a pang of regret.

Alas! it is a mistake. Bread may be earned and fortunes perhaps
made in such countries; and as it is the destiny of our race to
spread itself over the wide face of the globe it is well that there
should be something to gild and paint the outward face of that lot
which so many are called upon to choose. But for a life of daily
excitement there is no life like life in England; and the farther
that one goes from England the more stagnant I think do the waters
of existence become.

But if it be so for men it is ten times more so for women. An
Englishman if he be at Guatemala or Belize must work for his
bread and that work will find him in thought and excitement. But
what of his wife? Where will she find excitement? By what pursuit
will she repay herself for all that she has left behind her at her
mother's fireside? She will love her husband. Yes; that at least!
If there be not that there will be a hell indeed. Then she will
nurse her children and talk of her--home. When the time shall come
that her promised return thither is within a year or two of its
accomplishment her thoughts will all be fixed on that coming
pleasure as are the thoughts of a young girl on her first ball for
the fortnight before that event comes off.

On the central plain of that portion of Central America which is
called Costa Rica stands the city of San Jose. It is the capital of
the Republic--for Costa Rica is a Republic--and for Central
America is a town of some importance. It is in the middle of the
coffee district surrounded by rich soil on which the sugar-cane is
produced is blessed with a climate only moderately hot and the
native inhabitants are neither cut-throats nor cannibals. It may be
said therefore that by comparison with some other spots to which
Englishmen and others are congregated for the gathering together of
money San Jose may be considered as a happy region; but
nevertheless a life there is not in every way desirable. It is a
dull place with little to interest either the eye or the ear.
Although the heat of the tropics is but little felt there on account
of its altitude men and women become too lifeless for much
enterprise. There is no society. There are a few Germans and a few
Englishmen in the place who see each other on matters of business
during the day; but sombre as life generally is they seem to care
little for each other's company on any other footing. I know not to
what point the aspirations of the Germans may stretch themselves
but to the English the one idea that gives salt to life is the idea
of home. On some day however distant it may be they will once
more turn their faces towards the little northern island and then
all will be well with them.

To a certain Englishman there and to his dear little wife this
prospect came some few years since somewhat suddenly. Events and
tidings it matters not which or what brought it about that they
resolved between themselves that they would start immediately;--
almost immediately. They would pack up and leave San Jose within
four months of the day on which their purpose was first formed. At
San Jose a period of only four months for such a purpose was
immediately. It creates a feeling of instant excitement a
necessity for instant doing a consciousness that there was in those
few weeks ample work both for the hands and thoughts--work almost
more than ample. The dear little wife who for the last two years
had been so listless felt herself flurried.

"Harry" she said to her husband "how shall we ever be ready?" And
her pretty face was lighted up with unusual brightness at the happy
thought of so much haste with such an object. "And baby's things
too" she said as she thought of all the various little articles of
dress that would be needed. A journey from San Jose to Southampton
cannot in truth be made as easily as one from London to Liverpool.
Let us think of a month to be passed without any aid from the
washerwoman and the greatest part of that month amidst the
sweltering heats of the West Indian tropics!

In the first month of her hurry and flurry Mrs. Arkwright was a
happy woman. She would see her mother again and her sisters. It
was now four years since she had left them on the quay at
Southampton while all their hearts were broken at the parting. She
was a young bride then going forth with her new lord to meet the
stern world. He had then been home to look for a wife and he had
found what he looked for in the younger sister of his partner. For
he Henry Arkwright and his wife's brother Abel Ring had
established themselves together in San Jose. And now she thought
how there would be another meeting on those quays at which there
should be no broken hearts; at which there should be love without
sorrow and kisses sweet with the sweetness of welcome not bitter
with the bitterness of parting. And people told her--the few
neighbours around her--how happy how fortunate she was to get home
...



 
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