An aqueduct! repeated he, while
destroying all our hopes, an aqueduct! an aqueduct!
It may be supposed this adventure had a still more melancholy end
for the young architects; this, however, was not the case; the
affair ended here. Mr. Lambercier never reproached us on this
account nor was his countenance clouded with a frown; we even heard
him mention the circumstance to his sister with loud bursts of
laughter. The laugh of Mr. Lambercier might be heard to a considerable
distance. But what is still more surprising, after the first transport
of sorrow had subsided, we did not find ourselves violently afflicted;
we planted a tree in another spot, and frequently recollected the
catastrophe of the former, repeating with a significant emphasis, an
aqueduct! an aqueduct! Till then, at intervals, I had fits of
ambition, and could fancy myself Brutus or Aristides, but this was the
first visible effect of my vanity. To have constructed an aqueduct
with our own hands, to have set a slip of willow in competition with a
flourishing tree, appeared to me a supreme degree of glory! I had a
juster conception of it at ten, than Caesar entertained at thirty.
The idea of this walnut tree, with the little anecdotes it gave rise
to, have so well continued, or returned to my memory, that the
design which conveyed the most pleasing sensations, during my
journey to Geneva, in the year 1754, was visiting Bossey, and
reviewing the monuments of my infantine amusement, above all, the
beloved walnut tree, whose age at that time must have been verging
on a third of a century, but I was so beset with company, that I could
not find a moment to accomplish my design.
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