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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
240
August
29.
Climbed
a
windy
eminence
on
the
other
side
of
the
Lake
and
had
a
splendid
view
of
Helvellyn--like
a
great
hog's
back.
It
is
fine
to
walk
over
the
elastic
turf
with
the
wind
bellowing
into
each
ear
and
swirling
all
around
me
in
a
mighty
sea
of
air
until
I
was
as
clean-blown
and
resonant
as
a
sea-shell.
I
moved
along
as
easily
as
a
disembodied
spirit
and
felt
free,
almost
transparent.
The
old
earth
seemed
to
have
soaked
me
up
into
itself,
I
became
dissolved
into
it,
my
separate
body
was
melted
away
from
me,
and
Nature
received
me
into
her
deepest
communion--until,
UNTIL
I
got
on
the
lee
side
of
a
hedge
where
the
calm
brought
me
back
my
gaol
of
clay.
September
1.
Fourteen
days
hence
I
shall
be
a
married
man.
But
I
feel
most
dejected
about
it.
When
I
fell
down
the
other
day,
I
believe
I
slightly
concussed
my
spinal
column,
with
the
result
that
my
1913
trouble
has
returned,
but
this
time
on
the
left
side!
paralysis
and
horrible
vertigo
and
presentiments
of
sudden
collapse
as
I
walk.
September
2.
I
fear
I
have
been
overdoing
it
in
this
tempting
mountain
region.
Walking
too
far,
etc.
So
I
am
slacking.
It
was
fortunate
I
did
not
get
concussion
of
the
brain--I
came
within
an
inch
of
it:
the
hair
of
my
head
brushed
the
ground.
A
Buxom
Rogue
in
Earthenware
I
knocked
at
the
door
of
Sunbeam
Cottage
the
other
morning
to
know
if
they
had
a
boat
for
hire.
The
door
was
promptly
opened
by
a
plump,
charming
little
wench
of
about
17,
and
I
caught
a
glimpse
of
the
kitchen
with
its
gunrack
holding
two
fowling
pieces,
a
grandfather
clock
in
one
corner
and
a
dresser
full
of
blueish
china.
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