He looked up hastily, wished me good morning, which he had done to none of the others, and which courtesy I attributed to Spanish sympathy. "What is it, sir?" he asked blandly, but with wrinkled brow. 'Mr. Bourne, have you any castles in Spain?" said I, without preface. He looked at me for a few moments without speaking and without seeming to see me. His brow gradually smoothed, and his eyes, apparently looking into the street, were really, I have no doubt, feasting upon the Spanish landscape. "Too many, too many," said he, at length, musingly, shaking his head and without addressing me. So I asked, "Will you tell me what you consider the shortest and safest route thither, Mr. Bourne? for, of course, a man who drives such an immense trade with all parts of the world will know all that I have come to inquire." "My dear sir," answered he, wearily, "I have been trying all my life to discover it; but none of my ships have ever been there; none of my captains have any report to make. They bring me, as they brought my father, golddust from Guinea; ivory, pearls, and precious stones from every part of the earth; but not a fruit, not a solitary flower, from one of my castles in Spain. I have sent clerks, agents, and travellers of all kinds, philosophers, pleasure-hunters, and invalids, in all sorts of ships, to all sorts of places, but none of them ever saw or heard of my castles." "I am sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Bourne,” said I, retiring. "I am glad you came," returned he; "but I assure you, had I known the route you hoped to ascertain from me, I should have sailed years and years ago. People sail for the Northwest Passage, which is nothing when you have found it. Why don't they fit out expeditions to discover all our castles in Spain?" He sat lost in thought. "It's nearly post-time, sir," said the clerk. Mr. Bourne did not heed him. He was still musing; and I turned to go, wishing him good morning. At length I resolved to ask Titbottom if he had ever heard of the best route to our estates. He said that he owned castles, and sometimes there was an expression in his face as if he saw them. I hope he did. I should long ago have asked him if he had ever observed the turrets of my possessions in the west, without alluding to Spain, if I had not feared he would suppose I was mocking his poverty. I hope his poverty has not turned his head, for he is very forlorn. One Sunday I went with him a few miles into the country. It was a soft, bright day; the fields and hills lay turned to the sky, as if every leaf and blade of grass were nerves bared to the touch of the sun. I almost felt the ground warm under my feet. The meadows waved and glittered, the lights and shadows were exquisite, and the distant hills seemed only to remove the horizon farther away. As we strolled along, picking wild flowers, for it was in summer, I was thinking what a fine day it was for a trip to Spain, when Titbottom suddenly exclaimed, "Thank God! I own this landscape." "You!" returned I. 66 Why," I answered, "I thought this was part of Bourne's property?" Titbottom smiled. "Does Bourne own the sun and sky? Does Bourne own that sailing shadow yonder? Does Bourne own the golden lustre of the grain, or the motion of the wood, or those ghosts of hills that glide pallid along the horizon? Bourne owns the dirt and fences. I own the beauty that makes the landscape, or otherwise how could I own castles in Spain?" That was very true. I respected Titbottom more than ever. Still I dream my dreams, and attend to my castles in Spain. I have so much property there that I could not, in conscience, neglect it. All the years of my youth and the hopes of my manhood are stored away, like precious stones, in the vaults, and I know that I shall find everything convenient, elegant, and beautiful when I come into possession. . . As the years go by I am not conscious that my interest diminishes. I defy time and change. Each year laid upon our heads is a hand of blessing. I have no doubt that I shall find the shortest route to my possessions as soon as need be. Sometimes when I have been sitting reading I have seemed to see clearly before me the broad highway to my castles in Spain. Castles in Spain, " air-castles." ex pe di'tious, quick, speedy. pic tur esque', fitted to form a pleasing picture. GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS (1824-1892) was a noted American journalist, author, and orator. The selection here given is from "Prue and I," one of his most popular books. He also wrote "Nile Notes," "Life of Washington Irving," etc. HUNTING SONG SIR WALTER SCOTT WAKEN, lords and ladies gay! With hawk and horse and hunting-spear! Waken, lords and ladies gay! Waken, lords and ladies gay! You shall see him brought to bay; Louder, louder chant the lay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay!" Tell them youth and mirth and glee THE LAND OF UTOPIA SIR THOMAS MORE THE island of Utopia contains in breadth in the middle part of it two hundred miles. This breadth continues through the greatest part of the land, except that it comes in little by little and grows narrower toward the ends. The whole circuit of the island is five hundred miles, and its shape is like the new moon. Between the two corners the sea runs in, dividing them asunder by the distance of eleven miles or thereabouts, and here the sea spreads into a large and wide bay which is so surrounded by the land on every side and so sheltered from the winds that it is not rough or tumultuous, but flows quietly, like a great standing pond. Thus nearly all the space within the compass of the land is made to form a harbor which may receive ships near every part of the land, to the great convenience of the inhabitants. The forefronts of the two corners, because of their fords and shelves and rocks, are very jeopardous and dangerous. Midway between them there stands up above the water a great rock which is not at all perilous because it is in sight. Upon the top of this rock a fair and strong tower is built, kept by a garrison of men. There are other rocks lying |