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diff --git a/1875-h/1875-h.htm b/1875-h/1875-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b0733d --- /dev/null +++ b/1875-h/1875-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2397 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Painted Windows, by Elia W. Peattie + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Painted Windows, by Elia W. Peattie + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Painted Windows + +Author: Elia W. Peattie + +Release Date: November 3, 2008 [EBook #1875] +Last Updated: January 9, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTED WINDOWS *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + PAINTED WINDOWS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Elia W. Peattie + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Will you come with me into the chamber of memory + and lift your eyes to the painted windows where the figures + and scenes of childhood appear? Perhaps by looking with + kindly eyes at those from out my past, long wished-for + visions of your own youth will appear to heal the wounds + from which you suffer, and to quiet your stormy and + restless heart. + </pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h4> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>PAINTED WINDOWS</b></big> </a><br /><br /> + </h4> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a> + </td> + <td> + NIGHT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> + </td> + <td> + SOLITUDE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> + </td> + <td> + FRIENDSHIP + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + FAME + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> + </td> + <td> + REMORSE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + TRAVEL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PAINTED WINDOWS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. NIGHT + </h2> + <p> + YOUNG people believe very little that they hear about the compensations of + growing old, and of living over again in memory the events of the past. + Yet there really are these compensations and pleasures, and although they + are not so vivid and breathless as the pleasures of youth, they have + something delicate and fine about them that must be experienced to be + appreciated. + </p> + <p> + Few of us would exchange our memories for those of others. They have + become a part of our personality, and we could not part with them without + losing something of ourselves. Neither would we part with our own + particular childhood, which, however difficult it may have been at times, + seems to each of us more significant than the childhood of any one else. I + can run over in my mind certain incidents of my childhood as if they were + chapters in a much-loved book, and when I am wakeful at night, or bored by + a long journey, or waiting for some one in the railway-station, I take + them out and go over them again. + </p> + <p> + Nor is my book of memories without its illustrations. I can see little + villages, and a great city, and forests and planted fields, and familiar + faces; and all have this advantage: they are not fixed and without motion, + like the pictures in the ordinary book. People are walking up the streets + of the village, the trees are tossing, the tall wheat and corn in the + fields salute me. I can smell the odour of the gathered hay, and the faces + in my dream-book smile at me. + </p> + <p> + Of all of these memories I like best the one in the pine forest. + </p> + <p> + I was at that age when children think of their parents as being + all-powerful. I could hardly have imagined any circumstances, however + adverse, that my father could not have met with his strength and wisdom + and skill. All children have such a period of hero-worship, I suppose, + when their father stands out from the rest of the world as the best and + most powerful man living. So, feeling as I did, I was made happier than I + can say when my father decided, because I was looking pale and had a poor + appetite, to take me out of school for a while, and carry me with him on a + driving trip. We lived in Michigan, where there were, in the days of which + I am writing, not many railroads; and when my father, who was attorney for + a number of wholesale mercantile firms in Detroit, used to go about the + country collecting money due, adjusting claims, and so on, he had no + choice but to drive. + </p> + <p> + And over what roads! Now it was a strip of corduroy, now a piece of + well-graded elevation with clay subsoil and gravel surface, now a + neglected stretch full of dangerous holes; and worst of all, running + through the great forests, long pieces of road from which the stumps had + been only partly extracted, and where the sunlight barely penetrated. Here + the soaked earth became little less than a quagmire. + </p> + <p> + But father was too well used to hard journeys to fear them, and I felt + that, in going with him, I was safe from all possible harm. The journey + had all the allurement of an adventure, for we would not know from day to + day where we should eat our meals or sleep at night. So, to provide + against trouble, we carried father's old red-and-blue-checked army + blankets, a bag of feed for Sheridan, the horse, plenty of bread, bacon, + jam, coffee and prepared cream; and we hung pails of pure water and + buttermilk from the rear of our buggy. + </p> + <p> + We had been out two weeks without failing once to eat at a proper table or + to sleep in a comfortable bed. Sometimes we put up at the stark-looking + hotels that loomed, raw and uninviting, in the larger towns; sometimes we + had the pleasure of being welcomed at a little inn, where the host showed + us a personal hospitality; but oftener we were forced to make ourselves + "paying guests" at some house. We cared nothing whether we slept in the + spare rooms of a fine frame "residence" or crept into bed beneath the + eaves of the attic in a log cabin. I had begun to feel that our journey + would be almost too tame and comfortable, when one night something really + happened. + </p> + <p> + Father lost his bearings. He was hoping to reach the town of Gratiot by + nightfall, and he attempted to make a short cut. To do this he turned into + a road that wound through a magnificent forest, at first of oak and + butternut, ironwood and beech, then of densely growing pines. When we + entered the wood it was twilight, but no sooner were we well within the + shadow of these sombre trees than we were plunged in darkness, and within + half an hour this darkness deepened, so that we could see nothing—not + even the horse. + </p> + <p> + "The sun doesn't get in here the year round," said father, trying his best + to guide the horse through the mire. So deep was the mud that it seemed as + if it literally sucked at the legs of the horse and the wheels of the + buggy, and I began to wonder if we should really be swallowed, and to fear + that we had met with a difficulty that even my father could not overcome. + I can hardly make plain what a tragic thought that was! The horse began to + give out sighs and groans, and in the intervals of his struggles to get + on, I could feel him trembling. There was a note of anxiety in father's + voice as he called out, with all the authority and cheer he could command, + to poor Sheridan. The wind was rising, and the long sobs of the pines made + cold shivers run up my spine. My teeth chattered, partly from cold, but + more from fright. + </p> + <p> + "What are we going to do?" I asked, my voice quivering with tears. + </p> + <p> + "Well, we aren't going to cry, whatever else we do!" answered father, + rather sharply. He snatched the lighted lantern from its place on the + dashboard and leaped out into the road. I could hear him floundering round + in that terrible mire and soothing the horse. The next thing I realised + was that the horse was unhitched, that father had—for the first time + during our journey—laid the lash across Sheridan's back, and that, + with a leap of indignation, the horse had reached the firm ground of the + roadside. Father called out to him to stand still, and a moment later I + found myself being swung from the buggy into father's arms. He staggered + along, plunging and almost falling, and presently I, too, stood beneath + the giant pines. + </p> + <p> + "One journey more," said father, "for our supper, and then we'll bivouac + right here." + </p> + <p> + Now that I was away from the buggy that was so familiar to me, and that + seemed like a little movable piece of home, I felt, as I had not felt + before, the vastness of the solitude. Above me in the rising wind tossed + the tops of the singing trees; about me stretched the soft blackness; and + beneath the dense, interlaced branches it was almost as calm and still as + in a room. I could see that the clouds were breaking and the stars + beginning to come out, and that comforted me a little. + </p> + <p> + Father was keeping up a stream of cheerful talk. + </p> + <p> + "Now, sir," he was saying to Sheridan, "stand still while I get this + harness off you. I'll tie you and blanket you, and you can lie or stand as + you please. Here's your nose-bag, with some good supper in it, and if you + don't have drink, it's not my fault. Anyway, it isn't so long since you + got a good nip at the creek." + </p> + <p> + I was watching by the faint light of the lantern, and noticing how + unnatural father and Sheridan looked. They seemed to be blocked out in a + rude kind of way, like some wooden toys I had at home. + </p> + <p> + "Here we are," said father, "like Robinson Crusoes. It was hard luck for + Robinson, not having his little girl along. He'd have had her to pick up + sticks and twigs to make a fire, and that would have been a great help to + him." + </p> + <p> + Father began breaking fallen branches over his knee, and I groped round + and filled my arms again and again with little fagots. So after a few + minutes we had a fine fire crackling in a place where it could not catch + the branches of the trees. Father had scraped the needles of the pines + together in such a way that a bare rim of earth was left all around the + fire, so that it could not spread along the ground; and presently the + coffee-pot was over the fire and bacon was sizzling in the frying-pan. The + good, hearty odours came out to mingle with the delicious scent of the + pines, and I, setting out our dishes, began to feel a happiness different + from anything I had ever known. + </p> + <p> + Pioneers and wanderers and soldiers have joys of their own—joys of + which I had heard often enough, for there had been more stories told than + read in our house. But now for the first time I knew what my grandmother + and my uncles had meant when they told me about the way they had come into + the wilderness, and about the great happiness and freedom of those first + days. I, too, felt this freedom, and it seemed to me as if I never again + wanted walls to close in on me. All my fear was gone, and I felt wild and + glad. I could not believe that I was only a little girl. I felt taller + even than my father. + </p> + <p> + Father's mood was like mine in a way. He had memories to add to his + emotion, but then, on the other hand, he lacked the sense of discovery I + had, for he had known often such feelings as were coming to me for the + first time. When he was a young man he had been a colporteur for the + American Bible Society among the Lake Superior Indians, and in that way + had earned part of the money for his course at the University of Michigan; + afterward he had gone with other gold-seekers to Pike's Peak, and had + crossed the plains with oxen, in the company of many other adventurers; + then, when President Lincoln called for troops, he had returned to enlist + with the Michigan men, and had served more than three years with McClellan + and Grant. + </p> + <p> + So, naturally, there was nothing he did not know about making himself + comfortable in the open. He knew all the sorrow and all the joy of the + homeless man, and now, as he cooked, he began to sing the old songs—"Marching + Through Georgia," and "Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie," and "In the + Prison Cell I Sit." He had been in a Southern prison after the Battle of + the Wilderness, and so he knew how to sing that song with particular + feeling. + </p> + <p> + I had heard war stories all my life, though usually father told such tales + in a half-joking way, as if to make light of everything he had gone + through. But now, as we ate there under the tossing pines, and the wild + chorus in the treetops swelled like a rising sea, the spirit of the old + days came over him. He was a good "stump speaker," and he knew how to make + a story come to life, and never did all his simple natural gifts show + themselves better than on this night, when he dwelt on his old campaigns. + </p> + <p> + For the first time I was to look into the heart of a kindly natured man, + forced by terrible necessity to go through the dread experience of war. I + gained an idea of the unspeakable homesickness of the man who leaves his + family to an unimagined fate, and sacrifices years in the service of his + country. I saw that the mere foregoing of roof and bed is an indescribable + distress; I learned something of what the palpitant anxiety before a + battle must be, and the quaking fear at the first rattle of bullets, and + the half-mad rush of determination with which men force valour into their + faltering hearts; I was made to know something of the blight of war—the + horror of the battlefield, the waste of bounty, the ruin of homes. + </p> + <p> + Then, rising above this, came stories of devotion, of brotherhood, of + service on the long, desolate marches, of courage to the death of those + who fought for a cause. I began to see wherein lay the highest joy of the + soldier, and of how little account he held himself, if the principle for + which he fought could be preserved. I heard for the first time the + wonderful words of Lincoln at Gettysburg, and learned to repeat a part of + them. + </p> + <p> + I was only eight, it is true, but emotion has no age, and I understood + then as well as I ever could, what heroism and devotion and + self-forgetfulness mean. I understood, too, the meaning of the words "our + country," and my heart warmed to it, as in the older times the hearts of + boys and girls warmed to the name of their king. The new knowledge was so + beautiful that I thought then, and I think now, that nothing could have + served as so fit an accompaniment to it as the shouting of those pines. + They sang like heroes, and in their swaying gave me fleeting glimpses of + the stars, unbelievably brilliant in the dusky purple sky, and + half-obscured now and then by drifting clouds. + </p> + <p> + By and by we lay down, not far apart, each rolled in an army blanket, + frayed with service. Our feet were to the fire—for it was so that + soldiers lay, my father said—and our heads rested on mounds of + pine-needles. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes in the night I felt my father's hand resting lightly on my + shoulders to see that I was covered, but in my dreams he ceased to be my + father and became my comrade, and I was a drummer boy,—I had seen + the play, "The Drummer Boy of the Rappahannock,"—marching forward, + with set teeth, in the face of battle. + </p> + <p> + Whatever could redeem war and make it glorious seemed to flood my soul. + All that was highest, all that was noble in that dreadful conflict came to + me in my sleep—to me, the child who had been born when my father was + at "the front." I had a strange baptism of the spirit. I discovered sorrow + and courage, singing trees and stars. I was never again to think that the + fireside and fireside thoughts made up the whole of life. + </p> + <p> + My father lies with other soldiers by the Pacific; the forest sings no + more; the old army blankets have disappeared; the memories of the terrible + war are fading,—happily fading,—but they all live again, + sometimes, in my memory, and I am once more a child, with thoughts as + proud and fierce and beautiful as Valkyries. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. SOLITUDE + </h2> + <p> + AMONG the pictures that I see when I look back into the past, is the one + where I, a sullen, egotistic person nine years old, stood quite alone in + the world. To be sure, there were father and mother in the house, and + there were the other children, and not one among them knew I was alone. + The world certainly would not have regarded me as friendless or orphaned. + There was nothing in my mere appearance, as I started away to school in my + clean ginghams, with my well-brushed hair, and embroidered school-bag, to + lead any one to suppose that I was a castaway. Yet I was—I had + discovered this fact, hidden though it might be from others. + </p> + <p> + I was no longer loved. Father and mother loved the other children; but not + me. I might come home at night, fairly bursting with important news about + what had happened in class or among my friends, and try to relate my + little histories. But did mother listen? Not at all. She would nod like a + mandarin while I talked, or go on turning the leaves of her book, or + writing her letter. What I said was of no importance to her. + </p> + <p> + Father was even less interested. He frankly told me to keep still, and + went on with the accounts in which he was so absurdly interested, or + examined "papers"—stupid-looking things done on legal cap, which he + brought home with him from the office. No one kissed me when I started + away in the morning; no one kissed me when I came home at night. I went to + bed unkissed. I felt myself to be a lonely and misunderstood child—perhaps + even an adopted one. + </p> + <p> + Why, I knew a little girl who, when she went up to her room at night, + found the bedclothes turned back, and the shade drawn, and a screen placed + so as to keep off drafts. And her mother brushed her hair twenty minutes + by the clock each night, to make it glossy; and then she sat by her bed + and sang softly till the girl fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + I not only had to open my own bed, but the beds for the other children, + and although I sometimes felt my mother's hand tucking in the bedclothes + round me, she never stooped and kissed me on the brow and said, "Bless + you, my child." No one, in all my experience, had said, "Bless you, my + child." When the girl I have spoken of came into the room, her mother + reached out her arms and said, before everybody, "Here comes my dear + little girl." When I came into a room, I was usually told to do something + for somebody. It was "Please see if the fire needs more wood," or "Let the + cat in, please," or "I'd like you to weed the pansy bed before + supper-time." + </p> + <p> + In these circumstances, life hardly seemed worth living. I decided that I + had made a mistake in choosing my family. It did not appreciate me, and it + failed to make my young life glad. I knew my young life ought to be glad. + And it was not. It was drab, as drab as Toot's old rain-coat. + </p> + <p> + Toot was "our coloured boy." That is the way we described him. Father had + brought him home from the war, and had sent him to school, and then + apprenticed him to a miller. Toot did "chores" for his board and clothes, + but was soon to be his own man, and to be paid money by the miller, and to + marry Tulula Darthula Jones, a nice coloured girl who lived with the + Cutlers. + </p> + <p> + The time had been when Toot had been my self-appointed slave. Almost my + first recollections were of his carrying me out to see the train pass, and + saying, "Toot, toot!" in imitation of the locomotive; so, although he had + rather a splendid name, I called him "Toot," and the whole town followed + my example. Yes, the time had been when Toot saw me safe to school, and + slipped little red apples into my pocket, and took me out while he milked + the cow, and told me stories and sang me plantation songs. Now, when he + passed, he only nodded. When I spoke to him about his not giving me any + more apples, he said: + </p> + <p> + "Ah reckon they're your pa's apples, missy. Why, fo' goodness' sake, don' + yo' he'p yo'se'f?" + </p> + <p> + But I did not want to help myself. I wanted to be helped—not because + I was lazy, but because I wanted to be adored. I was really a sort of + fairy princess,—misplaced, of course, in a stupid republic,—and + I wanted life conducted on a fairy-princess basis. It was a game I wished + to play, but it was one I could not play alone, and not a soul could I + find who seemed inclined to play it with me. + </p> + <p> + Well, things went from bad to worse. I decided that if mother no longer + loved me, I would no longer tell her things. So I did not. I got a hundred + in spelling for twelve days running, and did not tell her! I broke Edna + Grantham's mother's water-pitcher, and kept the fact a secret. The secret + was, indeed, as sharp-edged as the pieces of the broken pitcher had been; + I cried under the bedclothes, thinking how sorry Mrs. Grantham had been, + and that mother really ought to know. Only what was the use? I no longer + looked to her to help me out of my troubles. + </p> + <p> + I had no need now to have father and mother tell me to hurry up and finish + my chatter, for I kept all that happened to myself. I had a new "intimate + friend," and did not so much as mention her. I wrote a poem and showed it + to my teacher, but not to my uninterested parents. And when I climbed the + stairs at night to my room, I swelled with loneliness and anguish and + resentment, and the hot tears came to my eyes as I heard father and mother + laughing and talking together and paying no attention to my misery. I + could hear Toot, who used to be making all sorts of little presents for + me, whistling as he brought in the wood and water, and then "cleaned up" + to go to see his Tulula, with never a thought of me. And I said to myself + that the best thing I could do was to grow up and get away from a place + where I was no longer wanted. + </p> + <p> + No one noticed my sufferings further than sometimes to say impatiently, + "What makes you act so strange, child?" And to that, of course, I answered + nothing, for what I had to say would not, I felt, be understood. + </p> + <p> + One morning in June I left home with my resentment burning fiercely within + me. I had not cared for the things we had for breakfast, for I was + half-ill with fretting and with the closeness of the day, but my lack of + appetite had been passed by with the remark that any one was likely not to + have an appetite on such a close day. But I was so languid, and so averse + to taking up the usual round of things, that I begged mother to let me + stay at home. She shook her head decidedly. + </p> + <p> + "You've been out of school too many days already this term," she said. + "Run along now, or you'll be late!" + </p> + <p> + "Please—" I began, for my head really was whirling, although, quite + as much, perhaps, from my perversity as from any other cause. Mother + turned on me one of her "last-word" glances. + </p> + <p> + "Go to school without another word," she said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + I knew that quiet tone, and I went. And now I was sure that all was over + between my parents and myself. I began to wonder if I need really wait + till I was grown up before leaving home. So miserably absorbed was I in + thinking of this, and in pitying myself with a consuming pity, that + everything at school seemed to pass like the shadow of a dream. I + blundered in whatever I tried to do, was sharply scolded for not hearing + the teacher until she had spoken my name three times, and was holding on + to myself desperately in my effort to keep back a flood of tears, when I + became aware that something was happening. + </p> + <p> + There suddenly was a perfect silence in the room—the sort of silence + that makes the heart beat too fast. The mist swimming before me did not, I + perceived, come from my own eyes, but from the changing colour of the air, + the usual transparency of which was being tinged with yellow. The + sultriness of the day was deepening, and seemed to carry a threat with it. + </p> + <p> + "Something is going to happen," thought I, and over the whole room spread + the same conviction. Electric currents seemed to snap from one + consciousness to another. We dropped our books, and turned our eyes toward + the western windows, to look upon a changed world. It was as if we peered + through yellow glass. In the sky soft-looking, tawny clouds came tumbling + along like playful cats—or tigers. A moment later we saw that they + were not playful, but angry; they stretched out claws, and snarled as they + did so. One claw reached the tall chimneys of the schoolhouse, another + tapped at the cupola, one was thrust through the wall near where I sat. + </p> + <p> + Then it grew black, and there was a bellowing all about us, so that the + commands of the teacher and the screams of the children barely could be + heard. I knew little or nothing. My shoulder was stinging, something had + hit me on the side of the head, my eyes were full of dust and mortar, and + my feet were carrying me with the others along the corridor, down the two + flights of wide stairs. I do not think we pushed each other or were + reckless. My recollection is only of many shadowy figures flying on with + sure feet out of the building that seemed to be falling in upon us. + </p> + <p> + Presently we were out on the landing before the door, with one more flight + of steps before us, that reached to the street. Something so strong that + it might not be denied gathered me up in invisible arms, whirled me round + once or twice and dropped me, not ungently, in the middle of the road. And + then, as I struggled to my knees and, wiping the dust from my eyes, looked + up, I saw dozens of others being lifted in the same way, and blown off + into the yard or the street. The larger ones were trying to hold on to the + smaller, and the teachers were endeavouring to keep the children from + going out of the building, but their efforts were of no avail. The + children came on, and were blown about like leaves. + </p> + <p> + Then I saw what looked like a high yellow wall advancing upon me—a + roaring and fearsome mass of driven dust, sticks, debris. It came over me + that my own home might be there, in strips and fragments, to beat me down + and kill me; and with the thought came a swift little vision out of my + geography of the Arabs in a sand-storm on the desert. I gathered up my + fluttering dress skirt, held it tight about my head, and lay flat upon the + ground. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if a long time passed, a time in which I knew very little + except that I was fighting for my breath as I never had fought for + anything. There were more hurts and bruises now, but they did not matter. + Just to draw my own breath in my own way seemed to be the only thing in + the world that was of any account. And then there was a shaft of flame, an + earsplitting roar, and the rain was upon us in sheets, in streams, in + visible rivers. + </p> + <p> + I imagined that it would last a long time, and wondered in a daze how I + could get home in a rain like that—for I should have to face it. I + could see that in a few seconds the gutters had begun to race, the road + where I lay was a stream, and then—then the rain ceased. Never was + anything so astonishing. The sky came out blue, tattered rags of cloud + raced across it, and I had time to conclude that, whipped and almost + breathless though I was, I was still alive. + </p> + <p> + And then I saw a curious sight. Down the street in every direction came + rushing hatless men and women. Here and there a wild-eyed horse was being + lashed along. All the town was coming. They were in their work clothes, in + their slippers, in their wrappers—they were in anything and + everything. Some of them sobbed as they ran, some called aloud names that + I knew. They were fathers and mothers looking for their children. + </p> + <p> + And who was that—that woman with a white face, with hair falling + about her shoulders, where it had fallen as she ran—that woman whose + breath came between her teeth strangely and who called my name over and + over, bleatingly, as a mother sheep calls its lamb? At first I did not + recognise her, and then, at last, I knew. And that creature with the + rolling eyes and the curious ash-coloured face who, mumbling something + over and over in his throat, came for me, and snatched me up and wiped my + face free of mud, and felt of me here and there with trembling hands—who + was he? + </p> + <p> + And breaking out of the crowd of men who had come running from the street + of stores and offices, was another strange being, with a sort of battle + light in his eyes, who, seeing me, gathered me to him and bore me away + toward home. Looking back, I could see the woman I knew following, leaning + on the arm of the boy with the rolling eyes, whose eyes had ceased to + roll, and who was quite recognisable now as Toot. + </p> + <p> + A happiness that was almost as terrible as sorrow welled up in my heart. I + did not weep, or laugh, or talk. All I had experienced had carried me + beyond mere excitement into exultation. I exulted in life, in love. My + conceit and sulkiness died in that storm, as did many another thing. I was + alive. I was loved. I said it over and over to myself silently, in "my + heart's deep core," while mother washed me with trembling hands in my own + dear room, bound up my hurts, braided my hair, and put me, in a fresh + night-dress, into my bed. I do not recall that we talked to each other, + but in every caress of her hands as she worked I felt the unspoken + assurances of a love such as I had not dreamed of. + </p> + <p> + Father had gone running back to the school to see if he could be of any + assistance to his neighbours, and had taken Toot with him, but they were + back presently to say that beyond a few sharp injuries and broken bones, + no harm had been done to the children. It was considered miraculous that + no one had been killed or seriously injured, and I noticed that father's + voice trembled as he told of it, and that mother could not answer, and + that Toot sobbed like a big silly boy. + </p> + <p> + Then as we talked together, behold, a second storm was upon us—a + sharp black blast of wind and rain, not terrifying, like the other, but + with an "I've-come-to-spend-the-day" sort of aspect. + </p> + <p> + But no one seemed to mind very much. I was carried down to the + sitting-room. Toot busied himself coming and going on this errand and on + that, fastening the doors, closing the windows, running out to see to the + animals, and coming back again. Father and mother set the table. They kept + close together; and now and then they looked over at me, without saying + anything, but with shining eyes. + </p> + <p> + The storm died down to a quiet rain. From the roof of the porch the drops + fell in silver strings, like beads. Then the sun came out and turned them + into shining crystal. The birds began to sing again, and when we threw + open the windows delicious odours of fresh earth and flowering shrub + greeted us. Mother began to sing as she worked. And I sank softly to + sleep, thrilled with the marvels of the world—not of the tempest, + but of the peace. + </p> + <p> + The sweet familiarity of the faces and the walls and the furniture and the + garden was like a blessing. There was not a chair there that I would have + exchanged for any other chair—not a tree that I would have parted + with—not a custom of that simple, busy place that I would have + changed. I knew now all my stupidity—and my good fortune. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. FRIENDSHIP + </h2> + <p> + WHEN I look back upon the village where I lived as a child, I cannot + remember that there were any divisions in our society. This group went to + the Congregational church, and that to the Presbyterian, but each family + felt itself to be as good as any other, and even if, ordinarily, some of + them withdrew themselves in mild exclusiveness, on all occasions of public + celebration, or when in trouble, we stood together in the pleasantest and + most unaffected democracy. + </p> + <p> + There were only the "Bad Madigans" outside the pale. + </p> + <p> + The facts about the Bad Madigans were, no doubt, serious enough, but the + fiction was even more appalling. As to facts, the father drank, the mother + followed suit, the appearance of the house—a ramshackle old place + beyond the fair-grounds—was a scandal; the children could not be got + to go to school for any length of time, and, when they were there, each + class in which they were put felt itself to be in disgrace, and the + dislike focused upon the intruders, sent them, sullen and hateful, back to + their lair. And, indeed, the Madigan house seemed little more than a lair. + It had been rather a fine house once, and had been built for the occupancy + of the man who owned the fairgrounds; but he choosing finally to live in + the village, had permitted the house to fall into decay, until only a + family with no sense of order or self-respect would think of occupying it. + </p> + <p> + When there occurred one of the rare burglaries in the village, when + anything was missing from a clothes-line, or a calf or pig disappeared, it + was generally laid to the Madigans. Unaccounted-for fires were supposed to + be their doing; they were accorded responsibility for vicious practical + jokes; and it was generally felt that before we were through with them + they would commit some blood-curdling crime. + </p> + <p> + When, as sometimes happened, I had met one of the Bad Madigans on the + road, or down on the village street, my heart had beaten as if I was face + to face with a company of banditti; but I cannot say that this excitement + was caused by aversion alone. The truth was, the Bad Madigans fascinated + me. They stood out from all the others, proudly and disdainfully like + Robin Hood and his band, and I could not get over the idea that they said: + "Fetch me yonder bow!" to each other; or, "Go slaughter me a ten-tined + buck!" I felt that they were fortunate in not being held down to hours + like the rest of us. Out of bed at six-thirty, at table by seven, tidying + bedroom at seven-thirty, dusting sitting-room at eight, on way to school + at eight-thirty, was not for "the likes of them!" Only we, slaves of + respectability and of an inordinate appetite for order, suffered such + monotony and drabness to rule. I knew the Madigan boys could go fishing + whenever they pleased, that the Madigan girls picked the blackberries + before any one else could get out to them, that every member of the family + could pack up and go picnicking for days at a time, and that any stray + horse was likely to be ridden bareback, within an inch of its life, by the + younger members of the family. + </p> + <p> + Only once however, did I have a chance to meet one of these modern + Visigoths face to face, and the feelings aroused by that incident remained + the darling secret of my youth. I dared tell no one, and I longed, yet + feared, to have the experience repeated. But it never was! It happened in + this way: + </p> + <p> + On a certain Sunday afternoon in May, my father and mother and I went to + Emmons' Woods. To reach Emmons' Woods, you went out the back door, past + the pump and the currant bushes, then down the path to the chicken-houses, + and so on, by way of the woodpile, to the south gate. After that, you went + west toward the clover meadows, past the house where the Crazy Lady lived—here, + if you were alone, you ran—and then, reaching the verge of the + woods, you took your choice of climbing a seven-rail fence or of walking a + quarter of a mile till you came to the bars. The latter was much better + for the lace on a Sunday petticoat. + </p> + <p> + Once in Emmons' Woods, there was enchantment. An eagle might come—or + a blue heron. There had been bears in Emmons' Woods—bears with + rolling eyes and red mouths from which their tongues lolled. There was one + place for pinky trillium, and another for gentians; one for tawny adders' + tongues, and another for yellow Dutchman's breeches. In the sap-starting + season, the maples dripped their luscious sap into little wooden cups; + later, partridges nested in the sun-burned grass. There was no lake or + river, but there was a pond, swarming with a vivacious population, and on + the hard-baked clay of the pond beach the green beetles aired their + splendid changeable silks and sandpipers hopped ridiculously. + </p> + <p> + It was, curiously enough, easier to run than to walk in Emmons' Woods, and + even more natural to dance than to run. One became acquainted with + squirrels, established intimacies with chipmunks, and was on some sort of + civil relation with blackbirds. And, oh, the tossing green of the young + willows, where the lilac distance melted into the pale blue of the sky! + And, oh, the budding of the maples and the fringing of the oaks; and, oh, + the blossoming of the tulip trees and the garnering of the chestnuts! And + then, the wriggling things in the grass; the procession of ants; the + coquetries of the robins; and the Beyond, deepening, deepening into the + forest where it was safe only for the woodsmen to go. + </p> + <p> + On this particular Sunday one of us was requested not to squeal and run + about, and to remember that we wore our best shoes and need not mess them + unnecessarily. It was hard to be reminded just when the dance was getting + into my feet, but I tried to have Sunday manners, and went along in the + still woods, wondering why the purple colours disappeared as we came on + and what had been distance became nearness. There was a beautiful, aching + vagueness over everything, and it was not strange that father, who had + stretched himself on the moss, and mother, who was reading Godey's Ladies' + Book, should presently both of them be nodding. So, that being a + well-established fact—I established it by hanging over them and + staring at their eyelids—it seemed a good time for me to let the + dance out of my toes. Still careful of my fresh linen frock, and + remembering about the best shoes, I went on, demurely, down the green + alleys of the wood. Now I stepped on patches of sunshine, now in pools of + shadow. I thought of how naughty I was to run away like this, and of what + a mistake people made who said I was a good, quiet, child. I knew that I + looked sad and prim, but I really hated my sadness and primness and + goodness, and longed to let out all the interesting, wild, naughty + thoughts there were in me. I wanted to act as if I were bewitched, and to + tear up vines and wind them about me, to shriek to the echoes, and to + scold back at the squirrels. I wanted to take off my clothes and rush into + the pond, and swim like a fish, or wriggle like a pollywog. I wanted to + climb trees and drop from them; and, most of all—oh, with what + longing—did I wish to lift myself above the earth and fly into the + bland blue air! + </p> + <p> + I came to a hollow where there was a wonderful greenness over everything, + and I said to myself that I would be bewitched at last. I would dance and + whirl and call till, perhaps, some kind of a creature as wild and wicked + and wonderful as I, would come out of the woods and join me. So I forgot + about the fresh linen frock, and wreathed myself with wild grape-vine; I + cared nothing for my fresh braids and wound trillium in my hair; and I + ceased to remember my new shoes, and whirled around and around in the + leafy mould, singing and shouting. + </p> + <p> + I grew madder and madder. I seemed not to be myself at all, but some sort + of a wood creature; and just when the trees were looking larger than ever + they did before, and the sky higher up, a girl came running down from a + sort of embankment where a tornado had made a path for itself and had + hurled some great chestnuts and oaks in a tumbled mass. The girl came + leaping down the steep sides of this place, her arms outspread, her feet + bare, her dress no more than a rag the colour of the tree-trunks. She had + on a torn green jacket, which made her seem more than ever like some one + who had just stepped out of a hollow tree, and, to my unspeakable + happiness, she joined me in my dance. + </p> + <p> + I shall never forget how beautiful she was, with her wild tangle of dark + hair, and her deep blue eyes and ripe lips. Her cheeks were flaming red, + and her limbs strong and brown. She did not merely shout and sing; she + whistled, and made calls like the birds, and cawed like a crow, and + chittered like a squirrel, and around and around the two of us danced, + crazy as dervishes with the beauty of the spring and the joy of being + free. + </p> + <p> + By and by we were so tired we had to stop, and then we sat down panting + and looked at each other. At that we laughed, long and foolishly, but, + after a time, it occurred to us that we had many questions to ask. + </p> + <p> + "How did you get here?" I asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + "I was walking my lone," she said, speaking her words as if there was a + rich thick quality to them, "and I heard you screeling." + </p> + <p> + "Won't you get lost, alone like that?" + </p> + <p> + "I can't get lost," she sighed. "I 'd like to, but I can't." + </p> + <p> + "Where do you live?" + </p> + <p> + "Beyant the fair-grounds." + </p> + <p> + "You're not—not Norah Madigan?" + </p> + <p> + She leaned back and clasped her hands behind her head. Then she smiled at + me teasingly. + </p> + <p> + "I am that," she said, showing her perfect teeth. + </p> + <p> + I caught my breath with a sharp gasp. Ought I to turn back to my parents? + Had I been so naughty that I had called the naughtiest girl in the whole + county out to me? + </p> + <p> + But I could not bring myself to leave her. She was leaning forward and + looking at me now with mocking eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Are you afraid?" she demanded. + </p> + <p> + "Afraid of what?" I asked, knowing quite well what she meant. + </p> + <p> + "Of me?" she retorted. + </p> + <p> + At that second an agreeable truth overtook me. I leaned forward, too, and + put my hand on hers. + </p> + <p> + "Why, I like you!" I cried. She began laughing again, but this time there + was no mockery in it. She ran her fingers over the embroidery on my linen + frock, she examined the lace on my petticoat, looked at the bows on my + shoes, and played delicately with the locket dangling from the slender + chain around my neck. + </p> + <p> + "Do you know—other girls?" she almost whispered. + </p> + <p> + I nodded. "Lots and lots of 'em," I said. "Don't you?" + </p> + <p> + She shook her head in wistful denial. + </p> + <p> + "Us Madigans," she said, "keeps to ourselves." She said it so haughtily + that for a moment I was almost persuaded into thinking that they lived + their solitary lives from choice. But, glancing up at her, I saw a blush + that covered her face, and there were tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Well, anyway," said I quickly, "we know each other." + </p> + <p> + "Yes," she cried, "we do that!" + </p> + <p> + She got up, then, and ran to a great tree from which a stout grape-vine + was swinging, and pulling at it with her strong arms, she soon had it made + into a practical swing. + </p> + <p> + "Come!" she called—"come, let's swing together!" + </p> + <p> + She helped me to balance myself on the rope-like vine, and, placing her + feet outside of mine, showed me how to "work up" till we were sweeping + with a fine momentum through the air. We shrieked with excitement, and + urged each other on to more and more frantic exertions. We were like two + birds, but to birds flying is no novelty. With us it was, which made us + happier than birds. But I, for my part, was no more delighted with my + swift flights through the air than I was with the shining eyes and + flashing teeth of the girl opposite me. I liked her strength, and the way + in which her body bent and swayed. Once more, she seemed like a wood-child—a + wild, mad, gay creature from the tree. I felt as if I had drawn a playmate + from elf-land, and I liked her a thousand times better than those proper + little girls who came to see me of a Saturday afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Well, there we were, rocking and screaming, and telling each other that we + were hawks, and that we were flying high over the world, when the anxious + and austere voice of my mother broke upon our ears. We tried to stop, but + that was not such an easy matter to do, and as we twisted and writhed, to + bring our grape-vine swing to a standstill, there was a slow rending and + breaking which struck terror to our souls. + </p> + <p> + "Jump!" commanded Norah—"jump! the vine's breaking!" We leaped at + the same moment, she safely. My foot caught in a stout tendril, and I fell + headlong, scraping my forehead on the ground and tearing a triangular rent + in the pretty, new frock. Mother came running forward, and the expression + on her face was far from being the one I liked to see. + </p> + <p> + "What have you been doing?" she demanded. "I thought you were getting old + enough and sensible enough to take care of yourself!" + </p> + <p> + I must have been a depressing sight, viewed with the eyes of a careful + mother. Blood and mould mingled on my face, my dress needed a laundress as + badly as a dress could, and my shoes were scratched and muddy. + </p> + <p> + "And who is this girl?" asked mother. I had become conscious that Norah + was at my feet, wiping off my shoes with her queer little brown frock. + </p> + <p> + "It's a new friend of mine," gasped I, beginning to see that I must lose + her, and hoping the lump in my throat wouldn't get any bigger than it was. + </p> + <p> + "What is her name?" asked mother. I had no time to answer. The girl did + that. + </p> + <p> + "I'm Norah Madigan," she said. Her tone was respectful, and, maybe, sad. + At any rate, it had a curious sound. + </p> + <p> + "Norah Mad-i-gan?" asked mother doubtfully, stringing out the word. + </p> + <p> + "Yessum," said a low voice. "Goodbye, mum." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Norah!" cried I, a strange pain stabbing my heart. "Come to see me—" + </p> + <p> + But my mother's voice broke in, firm and kind. + </p> + <p> + "Good-bye, Norah," said she. + </p> + <p> + I saw Norah turn and run up among the trees, almost as swiftly and + silently as a hare. Once, she turned to look back. I was watching, and + caught the chance to wave my hand to her. + </p> + <p> + "Come!" commanded mother, and we went back to where father was sitting. + </p> + <p> + "What do you think!" said mother. "I found the child playing with one of + the Bad Madigans. Isn't she a sight!" + </p> + <p> + The lump in my throat swelled to a terrible size; something buzzed in my + ears, and I heard some one weeping. For a second or two I didn't realise + that it was myself. + </p> + <p> + "Well, never mind, dear," said mother's voice soothingly. "The frock will + wash, and the tear will mend, and the shoes will black. Yes, and the + scratches will heal." + </p> + <p> + "It isn't that," I sobbed. "Oh, oh, it isn't that!" + </p> + <p> + "What is it, then, for goodness sake?" asked mother. + </p> + <p> + But I would not tell. I could not tell. How could I say that the daughter + of the Bad Madigans was the first real and satisfying playmate I had ever + had? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. FAME + </h2> + <p> + AS I remember the boys and girls who grew up with me, I think of them as + artists, or actors, or travellers, or rich merchants. Each of us, by the + time we were half through grammar school, had selected a career. So far as + I recollect, this career had very little to do with our abilities. We + merely chose something that suited us. Our energy and our vanity + crystallised into particular shapes. There was a sort of religion abroad + in the West at that time that a person could do almost anything he set out + to do. The older people, as well as the children, had an idea that the + world was theirs—they all were Monte Cristos in that respect. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I had decided to be an orator. + </p> + <p> + At the time of making this decision, I was nine years of age, decidedly + thin and long drawn out, with two brown braids down my back, and a + terrific shyness which I occasionally overcame with such a magnificent + splurge that those who were not acquainted with my peculiarities probably + thought me a shamefully assertive child. + </p> + <p> + I based my oratorical aspirations upon my having taken the prize a number + of times in Sunday-school for learning the most New Testament verses, and + upon the fact that I always could make myself heard to the farthest corner + of the room. I also felt that I had a great message to deliver to the + world when I got around it, though in this, I was in no way different from + several of my friends. I had noticed a number of things in the world that + were not quite right, and which I thought needed attention, and I believed + that if I were quite good and studied elocution, in a little while I + should be able to set my part of the world right, and perhaps even extend + my influence to adjoining districts. + </p> + <p> + Meantime I practised terrible vocal exercises, chiefly consisting of a + raucous "caw" something like a crow's favourite remark, and advocated by + my teacher in elocution for no reason that I can now remember; and I stood + before the glass for hours at a time making grimaces so as to acquire the + "actor's face," till my frightened little sisters implored me to turn back + into myself again. + </p> + <p> + It was a great day for me when I was asked to participate in the Harvest + Home Festival at our church on Thanksgiving Day. I looked upon it as the + beginning of my career, and bought crimping papers so that my hair could + be properly fluted. Of course, I wanted a new dress for the occasion, and + I spent several days in planning the kind of a one I thought best suited + to such a memorable event. I even picked out the particular lace pattern I + wanted for the ruffles. This was before I submitted the proposition to + Mother, however. When I told her about it she said she could see no use in + getting a new dress and going to all the trouble of making it when my + white one with the green harps was perfectly good. + </p> + <p> + This was such an unusual dress and had gone through so many vicissitudes, + that I really was devotedly attached to it. It had, in the beginning, + belonged to my Aunt Bess, and in the days of its first glory had been a + sheer Irish linen lawn, with tiny green harps on it at agreeable + intervals. But in the course of time, it had to be sent to the wash-tub, + and then, behold, all the little lovely harps followed the example of the + harp that "once through Tara's hall the soul of music shed," and + disappeared! Only vague, dirty, yellow reminders of their beauty remained, + not to decorate, but to disfigure the fine fabric. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Bess, naturally enough, felt irritated, and she gave the goods to + mother, saying that she might be able to boil the yellow stains out of it + and make me a dress. I had gone about many a time, like love amid the + ruins, in the fragments of Aunt Bess's splendour, and I was not happy in + the thought of dangling these dimmed reminders of Ireland's past around + with me. But mother said she thought I'd have a really truly white Sunday + best dress out of it by the time she was through with it. So she prepared + a strong solution of sodium and things, and boiled the breadths, and every + little green harp came dancing back as if awaiting the hand of a new + Dublin poet. The green of them was even more charming than it had been at + first, and I, as happy as if I had acquired the golden harp for which I + then vaguely longed, went to Sunday-school all that summer in this + miraculous dress of now-you-see-them and-now-you-don't, and became so used + to being asked if I were Irish that my heart exulted when I found that I + might—fractionally—claim to be, and that one of the Fenian + martyrs had been an ancestor. For a year, even, after that discovery of + the Fenian martyr, ancestors were a favorite study of mine. + </p> + <p> + Well, though the dress became something more than familiar to the eyes of + my associates, I was so attached to it that I felt no objection to wearing + it on the great occasion; and, that being settled, all that remained was + to select the piece which was to reveal my talents to a hitherto + unappreciative—or, perhaps I should say, unsuspecting—group of + friends and relatives. It seemed to me that I knew better than my teacher + (who had agreed to select the pieces for her pupils) possibly could what + sort of a thing best represented my talents, and so, after some thought, I + selected "Antony and Cleopatra," and as I lagged along the too-familiar + road to school, avoiding the companionship of my acquaintances, I + repeated: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I am dying, Egypt, dying! + Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, + And the dark Plutonian shadows + Gather on the evening blast. +</pre> + <p> + Sometimes I grew so impassioned, so heedless of all save my mimic sorrow + and the swing of the purple lines, that I could not bring myself to modify + my voice, and the passers-by heard my shrill tones vibrating with: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian! + Glorious sorceress of the Nile! + Light the path to Stygian horrors + With the splendour of thy smile. +</pre> + <p> + I wiped dishes to the rhythm of such phrases as "scarred and veteran + legions," and laced my shoes to the music of "Though no glittering guards + surround me." + </p> + <p> + Confident that no one could fail to see the beauty of these lines, or the + propriety of the identification of myself with Antony, I called upon my + Sunday-school teacher, Miss Goss, to report. I never had thought of Miss + Goss as a blithe spirit. She was associated in my mind with numerous + solemn occasions, and I was surprised to find that on this day she + unexpectedly developed a trait of breaking into nervous laughter. I had + got as far as "Should the base plebeian rabble—" when Miss Goss + broke down in what I could not but regard as a fit of giggles, and I + ceased abruptly. + </p> + <p> + She pulled herself together after a moment or two, and said if I would + follow her to the library she thought she could find something—here + she hesitated, to conclude with, "more within the understanding of the + other children." I saw that she thought my feelings were hurt, and as I + passed a mirror I feared she had some reason to think so. My face was + uncommonly flushed, and a look of indignation had crept, somehow, even + into my braids, which, having been plaited too tightly, stuck out in + crooks and kinks from the side of my head. Incidentally, I was horrified + to notice how thin I was—thin, even for a dying Antony—and my + frock was so outgrown that it hardly covered my knees. "Ridiculous!" I + said under my breath, as I confronted this miserable figure—so + shamefully insignificant for the vicarious emotions which it had been + housing. "Ridiculous!" + </p> + <p> + I hated Miss Goss, and must have shown it in my stony stare, for she put + her arm around me and said it was a pity I had been to all the trouble to + learn a poem which was—well, a trifle too—too old—but + that she hoped to find something equally "pretty" for me to speak. At the + use of that adjective in connection with William Lytle's lines, I wrenched + away from her grasp and stood in what I was pleased to think a haughty + calm, awaiting her directions. + </p> + <p> + She took from the shelves a little volume of Whittier, bound in calf, + handling it as tenderly as if it were a priceless possession. Some pressed + violets dropped out as she opened it, and she replaced them with + devotional fingers. After some time she decided upon a lyric lament + entitled "Eva." I was asked to run over the verses, and found them + remarkably easy to learn; fatally impossible to forget. I presently arose + and with an impish betrayal of the poverty of rhyme and the plethora of + sentiment, repeated the thing relentlessly. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O for faith like thine, sweet Eva, + Lighting all the solemn reevah [river], + And the blessings of the poor, + Wafting to the heavenly shoor [shore]. +</pre> + <p> + "I do think," said Miss Goss gently, "that if you tried, my child, you + might manage the rhymes just a little better." + </p> + <p> + "But if you're born in Michigan," I protested, "how can you possibly make + 'Eva' rhyme with 'never' and 'believer'?" + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps it is a little hard," Miss Goss agreed, and still clinging to her + Whittier, she exhumed "The Pumpkin," which she thought precisely fitted + for our Harvest Home festival. This was quite another thing from "Eva," + and I saw that only hours of study would fix it in my mind. I went to my + home, therefore, with "The Pumpkin" delicately transcribed in Miss Goss's + running hand, and I tried to get some comfort from the foreign allusions + glittering through Whittier's kindly verse. As the days went by I came to + have a certain fondness for those homely lines: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O—fruit loved of boyhood!—the old days recalling, + When wood grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling! + When wild, ugly faces we carved in the skin, + Glaring out through the dark with a candle within! + + When we laughed round the corn-heap, with hearts all in tune, + Our chair a broad pumpkin—our lantern the moon, + Telling tales of the fairy who travelled like steam + In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team! +</pre> + <p> + On all sides this poem was considered very fitting, and I went to the + festival with that comfortable feeling one has when one is moving with the + majority and is wearing one's best clothes. + </p> + <p> + I sat rigid with expectancy while my schoolmates spoke their "pieces" and + sang their songs. With frozen faces they faced each other in dialogues, + lost their quavering voices, and stumbled down the stairs in their anguish + of spirit. I pitied them, and thought how lucky it was that my memory + never failed me, and that my voice carried so well that I could arouse + even old Elder Waite from his slumbers. + </p> + <p> + Then my turn came. My crimps were beautiful; the green harps danced on my + freshly-ironed frock, and I had on my new chain and locket. I relied upon + a sort of mechanism in me to say: O greenly and fair in the lands of the + sun, The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run. + </p> + <p> + In this seemly manner Whittier's ode to the pumpkin began. I meant to go + on to verses which I knew would delight my audience—to references to + the "crook-necks" ripening under the September sun; and to Thanksgiving + gatherings at which all smiled at the reunion of friends and the bounty of + the board. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + What moistens the lip and brightens the eye! + What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie! +</pre> + <p> + I was sure these lines would meet with approval, and having "come down to + the popular taste," I was prepared to do my best to please. + </p> + <p> + After a few seconds, when the golden pumpkins that lined the stage had + ceased to dance before my eyes, I thought I ought to begin to "get hold of + my audience." Of course, my memory would be giving me the right words, and + my facile tongue running along reliably, but I wished to demonstrate that + "ability" which was to bring me favour and fame. I listened to my own + words and was shivered into silence. I was talking about "dark Plutonian + shadows"; I was begging "Egypt" to let her arms enfold me—I was, + indeed, in the very thick of the forbidden poem. I could hear my thin, + aspiring voice reaching out over that paralysed audience with: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Though my scarred and veteran legions + Bear their eagles high no more; + And my wrecked and scattered galleys + Strew dark Actium's fatal shore. +</pre> + <p> + My tongue seemed frozen, or some kind of a ratchet at the base of it had + got out of order. For a moment—a moment can be the little sister of + eternity—I could say nothing. Then I found myself in the clutches of + the instinct for self-preservation. I felt it in me to stop the giggles of + the girls on the front seat; to take the patronising smiles out of the + tolerant eyes of the grown people. Maybe my voice lost something of its + piping insistence and was touched with genuine feeling; perhaps some + faint, faint spark of the divine fire which I longed to fan into a flame + did flicker in me for that one time. I had the indescribable happiness of + seeing the smiles die on the faces of my elders, and of hearing the + giggles of my friends cease. + </p> + <p> + I went to my seat amid what I was pleased to consider "thunders of + applause," and by way of acknowledgment, I spoke, with chastened + propriety, Whittier's ode to the pumpkin. + </p> + <p> + I cannot remember whether or not I was scolded. I'm afraid, afterward, + some people still laughed. As for me, oddly enough, my oratorical + aspirations died. I decided there were other careers better fitted to one + of my physique. So I had to go to the trouble of finding another career; + but just what it was I have forgotten. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. REMORSE + </h2> + <p> + IT is extraordinary, when you come to think of it, how very few days, out + of all the thousands that have passed, lift their heads from the grey + plain of the forgotten—like bowlders in a level stretch of country. + It is not alone the unimportant ones that are forgotten; but, according to + one's elders, many important ones have left no mark in the memory. It + seems to me, as I think it over, that it was the days that affected the + emotions that dwell with me, and I suppose all of us must be the same in + this respect. + </p> + <p> + Among those which I am never to forget is the day when Aunt Cordelia came + to visit us—my mother's aunt, she was—and when I discovered + evil, and tried to understand what the use of it was. + </p> + <p> + Great-aunt Cordelia was, as I often and often had been told, not only much + travelled, rich and handsome, but good also. She was, indeed, an important + personage in her own city, and it seemed to be regarded as an evidence of + unusual family fealty that she should go about, now and then, briefly + visiting all of her kinfolk to see how they fared in the world. I ought to + have looked forward to meeting her, but this, for some perverse reason, I + did not do. I wished I might run away and hide somewhere till her visit + was over. It annoyed me to have to clean up the play-room on her account, + and to help polish the silver, and to comb out the fringe of the tea + napkins. I liked to help in these tasks ordinarily, but to do it for the + purpose of coming up to a visiting—and probably, a condescending—goddess, + somehow made me cross. + </p> + <p> + Among other hardships, I had to take care of my little sister Julie all + day. I loved Julie. She had soft golden-brown curls fuzzing around on her + head, and mischievous brown eyes—warm, extra-human eyes. There was a + place in the back of her neck, just below the point of her curls, which it + was a privilege to kiss; and though she could not yet talk, she had a + throaty, beautiful little exclamation, which cannot be spelled any more + than a bird note, with which she greeted all the things she liked—a + flower, or a toy, or mother. But loving Julie as she sat in mother's lap, + and having to care for her all of a shining Saturday, were two quite + different things. As the hours wore along I became bored with looking at + the golden curls of my baby sister; I had no inclination to kiss the + "honey-spot" in the back of her neck; and when she fretted from heat and + teething and my perfunctory care, I grew angry. + </p> + <p> + I knew mother was busy making custards and cakes for Aunt Cordelia, and I + longed to be in watching these pleasing operations. I thought—but + what does it matter what I thought? I was bad! I was so bad that I was + glad I was bad. Perhaps it was nerves. Maybe I really had taken care of + the baby too long. But however that may be, for the first time in my life + I enjoyed the consciousness of having a bad disposition—or perhaps I + ought to say that I felt a fiendish satisfaction in the discovery that I + had one. + </p> + <p> + Along in the middle of the afternoon three of the girls in the + neighbourhood came over to play. They had their dolls, and they wanted to + "keep house" in the "new part" of our home. We were living in a roomy and + comfortable "addition," which had, oddly enough, been built before the + building to which it was finally to serve as an annex. That is to say, it + had been the addition before there was anything to add it to. By this + time, however, the new house was getting a trifle old, as it waited for + the completion of its rather disproportionate splendours; splendours which + represented the ambitions rather than the achievements of the family. It + towered, large, square, imposing, with hints of M. Mansard's grandiose + architectural ideas in its style, in the very centre of a village block of + land. From the first, it exercised a sort of "I dreamt I dwelt in marble + halls" effect upon me, and in a vague way, at the back of my mind, floated + the idea that when we passed from our modest home into this commanding + edifice, well-trained servants mysteriously would appear, beautiful gowns + would be found awaiting my use in the closets, and father and mother would + be able to take their ease, something after the fashion of the "landed + gentry" of whom I had read in Scotch and English books. The ceilings of + the new house were so high, the sweep of the stairs so dramatic, the size + of the drawing-rooms so copious, that perhaps I hardly was to be blamed + for expecting a transformation scene. + </p> + <p> + But until this new life was realised, the clean, bare rooms made the best + of all possible play-rooms, and with the light streaming in through the + trees, and falling, delicately tinged with green, upon the new floors, and + with the scent of the new wood all about, it was a place of indefinable + enchantment. I was allowed to play there all I pleased—except when I + had Julie. There were unguarded windows and yawning stair-holes, and no + steps as yet leading from the ground to the great opening where the carved + front door was some time to be. Instead, there were planks, inclined at a + steep angle, beneath which lay the stones of which the foundation to the + porch were to be made. Jagged pieces of yet unhewn sandstone they were, + with cruel edges. + </p> + <p> + But to-day when the girls said, "Oh, come!" my newly discovered badness + echoed their words. I wanted to go with them. So I went. + </p> + <p> + Out of the corner of my eye I could see father in the distance, but I + wouldn't look at him for fear he would be magnetised into turning my way. + The girls had gone up, and I followed, with Julie in my arms. Did I hear + father call to me to stop? He always said I did, but I think he was + mistaken. Perhaps I merely didn't wish to hear him. Anyway, I went on, + balancing myself as best I could. The other girls had reached the top, and + turned to look at us, and I knew they were afraid. I think they would have + held out their hands to help me, but I had both arms clasped about Julie. + So I staggered on, got almost to the top, then seemed submerged beneath a + wave of fears—mine and those of the girls—and fell! As I went, + I curled like a squirrel around Julie, and when I struck, she was still in + my grasp and on top of me. But she rolled out of my relaxing clutch after + that, and when father and mother came running, she was lying on the + stones. They thought she had fallen that way, and as the breath had been + fairly knocked out of her little body, so that she was not crying, they + were more frightened than ever, and ran with her to the house, wild with + apprehension. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I got up somehow and followed. I decided no bones were broken, + but I was dizzy and faint, and aching from bruises. I saw my little + friends running down the plank and making off along the poplar drive, + white-faced and panting. I knew they thought Julie was dead and that I'd + be hung. I had the same idea. + </p> + <p> + When we got to the sitting-room I had a strange feeling of never having + seen it before. The tall stove, the green and oak ingrain carpet, the + green rep chairs, the what-not with its shells, the steel engravings on + the walls, seemed absolutely strange. I sat down and counted the + diamond-shaped figures on the oilcloth in front of the stove; and after a + long time I heard Julie cry, and mother say with immeasurable relief: + </p> + <p> + "Aside from a shaking up, I don't believe she's a bit the worse." + </p> + <p> + Then some one brought me a cupful of cold water and asked me if I was + hurt. I shook my head and would not speak. I then heard, in simple and + emphatic Anglo-Saxon the opinions of my father and mother about a girl who + would put her little sister's life in danger, and would disobey her + parents. And after that I was put in my mother's bedroom to pass the rest + of the day, and was told I needn't expect to come to the table with the + others. + </p> + <p> + I accepted my fate stoically, and being permitted to carry my own chair + into the room, I put it by the western window, which looked across two + miles of meadows waving in buckwheat, in clover and grass, and sat there + in a curious torpor of spirit. I was glad to be alone, for I had + discovered a new idea—the idea of sin. I wished to be left to myself + till I could think out what it meant. I believed I could do that by night, + and, after I had got to the root of the matter, I could cast the whole + ugly thing out of my soul and be good all the rest of my life. + </p> + <p> + There was a large upholstered chair standing in front of me, and I put my + head down on the seat of that and thought and thought. My thoughts reached + so far that I grew frightened, and I was relieved when I felt the little + soft grey veils drawing about me which I knew meant sleep. It seemed to me + that I really ought to weep—that the circumstances were such that I + should weep. But sleep was sweeter than tears, and not only the pain in my + mind but the jar and bruise of my body seemed to demand that oblivion. So + I gave way to the impulse, and the grey veils wrapped around and around me + as a spider's web enwraps a fly. And for hours I knew nothing. + </p> + <p> + When I awoke it was the close of day. Long tender shadows lay across the + fields, the sky had that wonderful clearness and kindness which is like a + human eye, and the soft wind puffing in at the window was sweet with field + fragrance. A glass of milk and a plate with two slices of bread lay on the + window sill by me, as if some one had placed them there from the outside. + I could hear birds settling down for the night, and cheeping drowsily to + each other. My cat came on the scene and, seeing me, looked at me with + serious, expanding eyes, twitched her whiskers cynically, and passed on. + Presently I heard the voices of my family. They were re-entering the + sitting-room. Supper was over—supper, with its cold meats and + shining jellies, its "floating island" and its fig cake. I could hear a + voice that was new to me. It was deeper than my mother's, and its accent + was different. It was the sort of a voice that made you feel that its + owner had talked with many different kinds of people, and had contrived to + hold her own with all of them. I knew it belonged to Aunt Cordelia. And + now that I was not to see her, I felt my curiosity arising in me. I wanted + to look at her, and still more I wished to ask her about goodness. She was + rich and good! Was one the result of the other? And which came first? I + dimly perceived that if there had been more money in our house there would + have been more help, and I would not have been led into temptation—baby + would not have been left too long upon my hands. However, after a few + moments of self-pity, I rejected this thought. I knew I really was to + blame, and it occurred to me that I would add to my faults if I tried to + put the blame on anybody else. + </p> + <p> + Now that the first shock was over and that my sleep had refreshed me, I + began to see what terrible sorrow had been mine if the fall had really + injured Julie; and a sudden thought shook me. She might, after all, have + been hurt in some way that would show itself later on. I yearned to look + upon her, to see if all her sweetness and softness was intact. It seemed + to me that if I could not see her the rising grief in me would break, and + I would sob aloud. I didn't want to do that. I had no notion to call any + attention to myself whatever, but see the baby I must. So, softly, and + like a thief, I opened the door communicating with the little + dressing-room in which Julie's cradle stood. The curtain had been drawn + and it was almost dark, but I found my way to Julie's bassinet. I could + not quite see her, but the delicate odour of her breath came up to me, and + I found her little hand and slipped my finger in it. It was gripped in a + baby pressure, and I stood there enraptured, feeling as if a flower had + caressed me. I was thrilled through and through with happiness, and with + love for this little creature, whom my selfishness might have destroyed. + There was nothing in what had happened during this moment or two when I + stood by her side to assure me that all was well with her; but I did so + believe, and I said over and over: "Thank you, God! Thank you, God!" + </p> + <p> + And now my tears began to flow. They came in a storm—a storm I could + not control, and I fled back to mother's room, and stood there before the + west window weeping as I never had wept before. + </p> + <p> + The quiet loveliness of the closing day had passed into the splendour of + the afterglow. Mighty wings as of bright angels, pink and shining white, + reached up over the sky. The vault was purple above me, and paled to + lilac, then to green of unimaginable tenderness. Now I quenched my tears + to look, and then I wept again, weeping no more for sorrow and loneliness + and shame than for gratitude and delight in beauty. So fair a world! What + had sin to do with it? I could not make it out. + </p> + <p> + The shining wings grew paler, faded, then darkened; the melancholy sound + of cow-bells stole up from the common. The birds were still; a low wind + rustled the trees. I sat thinking my young "night thoughts" of how + marvellous it was for the sun to set, to rise, to keep its place in heaven—of + how wrapped about with mysteries we were. What if the world should start + to falling through space? Where would it land? Was there even a bottom to + the universe? "World without end" might mean that there was neither an end + to space nor yet to time. I shivered at thought of such vastness. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly light streamed about me, warm arms enfolded me. + </p> + <p> + "Mother!" I murmured, and slipped from the unknown to the dear familiarity + of her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + It was, I soon perceived, a silk-clad shoulder. Mother had on her best + dress; nay, she wore her coral pin and ear-rings. Her lace collar was + scented with Jockey Club, and her neck, into which I was burrowing, had + the indescribable something that was not quite odour, not all softness, + but was compounded of these and meant mother. She said little to me as she + drew me away and bathed my face, brushed and plaited my hair, and put on + my clean frock. But we felt happy together. I knew she was as glad to + forgive as I was to be forgiven. + </p> + <p> + In a little while she led me, blinking, into the light. A tall stranger, a + lady in prune-coloured silk, sat in the high-backed chair. + </p> + <p> + "This is my eldest girl, Aunt Cordelia," said my mother. I went forward + timidly, wondering if I were really going to be greeted by this person who + must have heard such terrible reports of me. I found myself caught by the + hands and drawn into the embrace of this new, grand acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I've been wanting to see you," said the rich, kind voice. "They say + you look as I did at your age. They say you are like me!" + </p> + <p> + Like her—who was good! But no one referred to this difference or + said anything about my sins. When we were sorry, was evil, then, forgotten + and sin forgiven? A weight as of iron dropped from my spirit. I sank with + a sigh on the hassock at my aunt's feet. I was once more a member of + society. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. TRAVEL + </h2> + <h3> + IT was time to say good-bye. + </h3> + <p> + I had been down to my little brother's grave and watered the sorrel that + grew on it—I thought it was sorrow, and so tended it; and I had + walked around the house and said good-bye to every window, and to the + robin's nest, and to my playhouse in the shed. I had put a clean ribbon on + the cat's neck, and kissed my doll, and given presents to my little + sisters. Now, shivering beneath my new grey jacket in the chill of the May + morning air, I stood ready to part with my mother. She was a little + flurried with having just ironed my pinafores and collars, and with having + put the last hook on my new Stuart plaid frock, and she looked me over + with rather an anxious eye. As for me, I thought my clothes charming, and + I loved the scarlet quill in my grey hat, and the set of my new shoes. I + hoped, above all, that no one would notice that I was trembling and lay it + down to fear. + </p> + <p> + Of course, I had been away before. It was not the first time I had left + everything to take care of itself. But this time I was going alone, and + that gave rather a different aspect to things. To go into the country for + a few days, or even to Detroit, in the company of a watchful parent, might + be called a "visit"; but to go alone, partly by train and partly by stage, + and to arrive by one's self, amounted to "travel." I had an aunt who had + travelled, and I felt this morning that love of travel ran in the family. + Probably even Aunt Cordelia had been a trifle nervous, at first, when she + started out for Hawaii, say, or for Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Mother and I were both fearful that the driver of the station 'bus hadn't + really understood that he was to call. First she would ask father, and + then I would ask him, if he was quite sure the man understood, and father + said that if the man could understand English at all—and he supposed + he could—he had understood that. Father was right about it, too, for + just when we—that is, mother and I—were almost giving up, the + 'bus horses swung in the big gate and came pounding up the drive between + the Lombardy poplars, which were out in their yellow-green spring dress. + They were a bay team with a yellow harness which clinked splendidly with + bone rings, and the 'bus was as yellow as a pumpkin, and shaped not unlike + one, so that I gave it my instant approval. It was precisely the sort of + vehicle in which I would have chosen to go away. So absorbed was I in it + that, though I must have kissed mother, I have really no recollection of + it; and it was only when we were swinging out of the gate, and I looked + back and saw her standing in the door watching us, that a terrible pang + came over me, so that for one crazy moment I thought I was going to jump + out and run back to her. + </p> + <p> + But I held on to father's hand and turned my face away from home with all + the courage I could summon, and we went on through the town and out across + a lonely stretch of country to the railroad. For we were an obstinate + little town, and would not build up to the railroad because the railroad + had refused to run up to us. It was a new station with a fine echo in it, + and the man who called out the trains had a beautiful voice for echoes. It + was created to inspire them and to encourage them, and I stood fascinated + by the thunderous noises he was making till father seized me by the hand + and thrust me into the care of the train conductor. They said something to + each other in the sharp, explosive way men have, and the conductor took me + to a seat and told me I was his girl for the time being, and to stay right + there till he came for me at my station. + </p> + <p> + What amazed me was that the car should be full of people. I could not + imagine where they all could be going. It was all very well for me, who + belonged to a family of travellers—as witness Aunt Cordelia—to + be going on a journey, but for these others, these many, many others, to + be wandering around, heaven knows where, struck me as being not right. It + seemed to take somewhat from the glory of my adventure. + </p> + <p> + However, I noticed that most of them looked poor. Their clothes were old + and ugly; their faces not those of pleasure-seekers. It was very difficult + to imagine that they could afford a journey, which was, as I believed, a + great luxury. At first, the people looked to be all of a sort, but after a + little I began to see the differences, and to notice that this one looked + happy, and that one sad, and another as if he had much to do and liked it, + and several others as if they had very little idea where they were going + or why. + </p> + <p> + But I liked better to look from the windows and to see the world. The + houses seemed quite familiar and as if I had seen them often before. I + hardly could believe that I hadn't walked up those paths, opened those + doors and seated myself at the tables. I felt that if I went in those + houses I would know where everything was—just where the dishes were + kept, and the Bible, and the jam. It struck me that houses were very much + alike in the world, and that led to the thought that people, too, were + probably alike. So I forgot what the conductor had said to me about + keeping still, and I crossed over the aisle and sat down beside a little + girl who was regrettably young, but who looked pleasant. Her mother and + grandmother were sitting opposite, and they smiled at me in a watery sort + of way as if they thought a smile was expected of them. I meant to talk to + the little girl, but I saw she was almost on the verge of tears, and it + didn't take me long to discover what was the matter. Her little pink hat + was held on by an elastic band, which, being put behind her ears and under + her chin, was cutting her cruelly. I knew by experience that if the band + were placed in front of her ears the tension would be lessened; so, with + the most benevolent intentions in the world, I inserted my fingers between + the rubber and her chubby cheeks, drew it out with nervous but friendly + fingers, somehow let go of it, and snap across her two red cheeks and her + pretty pug nose went the lacerating elastic, leaving a welt behind it! + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean, you bad girl?" cried the mother, taking me by the + shoulders with a sort of grip I had never felt before. "I never saw such a + child—never!" + </p> + <p> + An old woman with a face like a hen leaned over the back of the seat. + </p> + <p> + "What's she done? What's she done?" she demanded. The mother told her, as + the grandmother comforted the hurt baby. + </p> + <p> + "Go back to your seat and stay there!" commanded the mother. "See you + don't come near here again!" + </p> + <p> + My lips trembled with the anguish I could hardly restrain. Never had a + noble soul been more misunderstood. Stupid beings! How dare they! Yet, not + to be liked by them—not to be understood! That was unendurable. + Would they listen to the gentle word that turneth away wrath? I was + inclined to think not. I was fairly panting under my load of dismay and + despondency, when a large man with an extraordinarily clean appearance sat + down opposite me. He was a study in grey—grey suit, tie, socks, + gloves, hat, top-coat—yes, and eyes! He leaned forward + ingratiatingly. + </p> + <p> + "What do you think Aunt Ellen sent me last week?" he inquired. + </p> + <p> + We seemed to be old acquaintances, and in my second of perplexity I + decided that it was mere forgetfulness that made me unable to recall just + whom he was talking about. So I only said politely: "I don't know, I'm + sure, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Why, yes, you do!" he laughed. "Couldn't you guess? What should Aunt + Ellen send but some of that white maple sugar of hers; better than ever, + too. I've a pound of it along with me, and I'd be glad to pry off a few + pieces if you'd like to eat it. You always were so fond of Aunt Ellen's + maple sugar, you know." + </p> + <p> + The tone carried conviction. Of course I must have been fond of it; + indeed, upon reflection, I felt that I had been. By the time the man was + back with a parallelogram of the maple sugar in his hand, I was convinced + that he had spoken the truth. + </p> + <p> + "Aunt Ellen certainly is a dear," he went on. "I run down to see her every + time I get a chance. Same old rain-barrel! Same old beehives! Same old + well-sweep! Wouldn't trade them for any others in the world. I like + everything about the place—like the 'Old Man' that grows by the + gate; and the tomato trellis—nobody else treats tomatoes like + flowers; and the herb garden, and the cupboard with the little + wood-carvings in it that Uncle Ben made. You remember Uncle Ben? Been a + sailor—broke both legs—had 'em cut off—and sat around + and carved while Aunt Ellen taught school. Happy they were—no one + happier. Brought me up, you know. Didn't have a father or mother—just + gathered me in. Good sort, those. Uncle Ben's gone, but Aunt Ellen's a + mother to me yet. Thinks of me, travelling, travelling, never putting my + head down in the same bed two nights running; and here and there and + everywhere she overtakes me with little scraps out of home. That's Aunt + Ellen for you!" + </p> + <p> + As the delicious sugar melted on my tongue, the sorrows melted in my soul, + and I was just about to make some inquiries about Aunt Ellen, whose + personal qualities seemed to be growing clearer and clearer in my mind, + when my conductor came striding down the aisle. + </p> + <p> + "Where's my little girl?" he demanded heartily. "Ah, there she is, just + where I left her, in good company and eating maple sugar, as I live." + </p> + <p> + "Well, she hain't bin there all the time now, I ken tell ye that!" cried + the old woman with a face like a hen. + </p> + <p> + "Indeed, she ain't!" the other women joined in. "She's a mischief-makin' + child, that's what she is!" said the mother. The little girl was looking + over her grandmother's shoulder, and she ran out a very red, serpent-like + tongue at me. + </p> + <p> + "She's a good girl, and almost as fond of Aunt Ellen as I am," said the + large man, finding my pocket, and putting a huge piece of maple sugar in + it. + </p> + <p> + The conductor, meantime, was gathering my things, and with a "Come along, + now! This is where you change," he led me from the car. I glanced back + once, and the hen-faced woman shook her withered brown fist at me, and the + large man waved and smiled. The conductor and I ran as hard as we could, + he carrying my light luggage, to a stage that seemed to be waiting for us. + He shouted some directions to the driver, deposited me within, and ran + back to his train. And I, alone again, looked about me. + </p> + <p> + We were in the heart of a little town, and a number of men were standing + around while the horses took their fill at the watering-trough. This + accomplished, the driver checked up the horses, mounted to his high seat, + was joined by a heavy young man; two gentlemen entered the inside of the + coach, and we were off. + </p> + <p> + One of these gentlemen was very old. His silver hair hung on his + shoulders; he had a beautiful flowing heard which gleamed in the light, + the kindest of faces, lit with laughing blue eyes, and he leaned forward + on his heavy stick and seemed to mind the plunging of our vehicle. The + other man was middle-aged, dark, silent-looking, and, I decided, rather + like a king. We all rode in silence for a while, but by and by the old man + said kindly: + </p> + <p> + "Where are you going, my child?" + </p> + <p> + I told him. + </p> + <p> + "And whose daughter are you?" he inquired. I told him that with pride. "I + know people all through the state," he said, "but I don't seem to remember + that name." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you remember my father, sir?" I cried, anxiously, edging up closer + to him. "Not that great and good man! Why, Abraham Lincoln and my father + are the greatest men that ever lived!" + </p> + <p> + His head nodded strangely, as he lifted it and looked at me with his + laughing eye. + </p> + <p> + "It's a pity I don't know him, that being the case," he said gently. "But, + anyway, you're a lucky little girl." + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I sighed, "I am, indeed." + </p> + <p> + But my attention was taken by our approach to what I recognised as an + "estate." A great gate with high posts, flat on top, met my gaze, and + through this gateway I could see a drive and many beautiful trees. A + little boy was sitting on top of one of the posts, watching us, and I + thought I never had seen a place better adapted to viewing the passing + procession. I longed to be on the other gatepost, exchanging confidences + across the harmless gulf with this nice-looking boy, when, most + unexpectedly, the horses began to plunge. The next second the air was + filled with buzzing black objects. + </p> + <p> + "Bees!" said the king. It was the first word he had spoken, and a true + word it was. Swarming bees had settled in the road, and we had driven + unaware into the midst of them. The horses were distracted, and made + blindly for the gate, though they seemed much more likely to run into the + posts than to get through the gate, I thought. The boy seemed to think + this, too, for he shot backward, turned a somersault in the air, and + disappeared from view. + </p> + <p> + "God bless me!" said the king. + </p> + <p> + The heavy young man on the front seat jumped from his place and began + beating away the bees and holding the horses by the bridles, and in a few + minutes we were on our way. The horses had been badly stung, and the heavy + young man looked rather bumpy. As for us, the king had shut the stage door + at the first approach of trouble, and we were unharmed. + </p> + <p> + After this, we all felt quite well acquainted, and the old gentleman told + me some wonderful stories about going about among the Indians and about + the men in the lumber camps and the settlers on the lake islands. + Afterward I learned that he was a bishop, and a brave and holy man whom it + was a great honour to meet, but, at the time, I only thought of how kind + he was to pare apples for me and to tell me tales. The king seldom spoke + more than one word at a time, but he was kind, too, in his way. Once he + said, "Sleepy?" to me. And, again, "Hungry?" He didn't look out at the + landscape at all, and neither did the bishop. But I ran from one side to + the other, and the last of the journey I was taken up between the driver + and the heavy man on the high seat. + </p> + <p> + Presently we were in a little town with cottages almost hidden among the + trees. A blue stream ran through green fields, and the water dashed over a + dam. I could hear the song of the mill and the ripping of the boards. + </p> + <p> + "We're here!" said the driver. + </p> + <p> + The heavy man lifted me down, and my young uncle came running out with his + arms open to receive me. "What a traveller!" he said, kissing me. + </p> + <p> + "It's been a tremendously long and interesting journey," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," he answered. "Ten miles by rail and ten by stage. I suppose you've + had a great many adventures!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes!" I cried, and ached to tell them, but feared this was not the + place. I saw my uncle respectfully helping the bishop to alight, and heard + him inquiring for his health, and the bishop answering in his kind, deep + voice, and saying I was indeed a good traveller and saw all there was to + see—and a little more. The king shook hands with me, and this time + said two words: "Good luck." Uncle had no idea who he was—no one had + seen him before. Uncle didn't quite like his looks. But I did. He was + uncommon; he was different. I thought of all those people in the train who + had been so alike. And then I remembered what unexpected differences they + had shown, and turned to smile at my uncle. + </p> + <p> + "I should say I have had adventures!" I cried. + </p> + <p> + "We'll get home to your aunt," he said, "and then we'll hear all about + them." + </p> + <p> + We crossed a bridge above the roaring mill-race, went up a lane, and + entered Arcadia. That was the way it seemed to me. It was really a cottage + above a stream, where youth and love dwelt, and honour and hospitality, + and the little house was to be exchanged for a greater one where—though + youth departed—love and honour and hospitality were still to dwell. + </p> + <p> + "Travel's a great thing," said my uncle, as he helped me off with my + jacket. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I answered, solemnly, "it is a great privilege to see the world." + </p> + <p> + I still am of that opinion. I have seen some odd bits of it, and I cannot + understand why it is that other journeys have not quite come up to that + first one, when I heard of Aunt Ellen, and saw the boy turn the surprised + somersault, and was welcomed by two lovers in a little Arcadia. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Painted Windows, by Elia W. 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