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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1875-h.zip b/1875-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a337b13 --- /dev/null +++ b/1875-h.zip 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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Peattie + +Posting Date: November 3, 2008 [EBook #1875] +Release Date: September, 1999 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTED WINDOWS *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss + + + + + +PAINTED WINDOWS + +By Elia W. Peattie + + + + + 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. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I NIGHT + + II SOLITUDE + + III FRIENDSHIP + + IV FAME + + V REMORSE + + VI TRAVEL + + + + +PAINTED WINDOWS + + + + +I. NIGHT + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Of all of these memories I like best the one in the pine forest. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"What are we going to do?" I asked, my voice quivering with tears. + +"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. + +"One journey more," said father, "for our supper, and then we'll bivouac +right here." + +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. + +Father was keeping up a stream of cheerful talk. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +II. SOLITUDE + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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: + +"Ah reckon they're your pa's apples, missy. Why, fo' goodness' sake, +don' yo' he'p yo'se'f?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You've been out of school too many days already this term," she said. +"Run along now, or you'll be late!" + +"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. + +"Go to school without another word," she said, quietly. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +III. FRIENDSHIP + +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. + +There were only the "Bad Madigans" outside the pale. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"How did you get here?" I asked the girl. + +"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." + +"Won't you get lost, alone like that?" + +"I can't get lost," she sighed. "I 'd like to, but I can't." + +"Where do you live?" + +"Beyant the fair-grounds." + +"You're not--not Norah Madigan?" + +She leaned back and clasped her hands behind her head. Then she smiled +at me teasingly. + +"I am that," she said, showing her perfect teeth. + +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? + +But I could not bring myself to leave her. She was leaning forward and +looking at me now with mocking eyes. + +"Are you afraid?" she demanded. + +"Afraid of what?" I asked, knowing quite well what she meant. + +"Of me?" she retorted. + +At that second an agreeable truth overtook me. I leaned forward, too, +and put my hand on hers. + +"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. + +"Do you know--other girls?" she almost whispered. + +I nodded. "Lots and lots of 'em," I said. "Don't you?" + +She shook her head in wistful denial. + +"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. + +"Well, anyway," said I quickly, "we know each other." + +"Yes," she cried, "we do that!" + +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. + +"Come!" she called--"come, let's swing together!" + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"What have you been doing?" she demanded. "I thought you were getting +old enough and sensible enough to take care of yourself!" + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"What is her name?" asked mother. I had no time to answer. The girl did +that. + +"I'm Norah Madigan," she said. Her tone was respectful, and, maybe, sad. +At any rate, it had a curious sound. + +"Norah Mad-i-gan?" asked mother doubtfully, stringing out the word. + +"Yessum," said a low voice. "Goodbye, mum." + +"Oh, Norah!" cried I, a strange pain stabbing my heart. "Come to see +me--" + +But my mother's voice broke in, firm and kind. + +"Good-bye, Norah," said she. + +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. + +"Come!" commanded mother, and we went back to where father was sitting. + +"What do you think!" said mother. "I found the child playing with one of +the Bad Madigans. Isn't she a sight!" + +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. + +"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." + +"It isn't that," I sobbed. "Oh, oh, it isn't that!" + +"What is it, then, for goodness sake?" asked mother. + +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? + + + + +IV. FAME + +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. + +As for me, I had decided to be an orator. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + + I am dying, Egypt, dying! + Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, + And the dark Plutonian shadows + Gather on the evening blast. + +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: + + As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian! + Glorious sorceress of the Nile! + Light the path to Stygian horrors + With the splendour of thy smile. + +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." + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +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. + + 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]. + +"I do think," said Miss Goss gently, "that if you tried, my child, you +might manage the rhymes just a little better." + +"But if you're born in Michigan," I protested, "how can you possibly +make 'Eva' rhyme with 'never' and 'believer'?" + +"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: + + 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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + What moistens the lip and brightens the eye! + What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie! + +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. + +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: + + Though my scarred and veteran legions + Bear their eagles high no more; + And my wrecked and scattered galleys + Strew dark Actium's fatal shore. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +V. REMORSE + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +"Aside from a shaking up, I don't believe she's a bit the worse." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Suddenly light streamed about me, warm arms enfolded me. + +"Mother!" I murmured, and slipped from the unknown to the dear +familiarity of her shoulder. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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!" + +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. + + + + +VI. TRAVEL + +IT was time to say good-bye. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +"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!" + +An old woman with a face like a hen leaned over the back of the seat. + +"What's she done? What's she done?" she demanded. The mother told her, +as the grandmother comforted the hurt baby. + +"Go back to your seat and stay there!" commanded the mother. "See you +don't come near here again!" + +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. + +"What do you think Aunt Ellen sent me last week?" he inquired. + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +"Where are you going, my child?" + +I told him. + +"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." + +"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!" + +His head nodded strangely, as he lifted it and looked at me with his +laughing eye. + +"It's a pity I don't know him, that being the case," he said gently. +"But, anyway, you're a lucky little girl." + +"Yes," I sighed, "I am, indeed." + +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. + +"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. + +"God bless me!" said the king. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"We're here!" said the driver. + +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. + +"It's been a tremendously long and interesting journey," I said. + +"Yes," he answered. "Ten miles by rail and ten by stage. I suppose +you've had a great many adventures!" + +"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. + +"I should say I have had adventures!" I cried. + +"We'll get home to your aunt," he said, "and then we'll hear all about +them." + +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. + +"Travel's a great thing," said my uncle, as he helped me off with my +jacket. + +"Yes," I answered, solemnly, "it is a great privilege to see the world." + +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. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Painted Windows, by Elia W. Peattie + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTED WINDOWS *** + +***** This file should be named 1875.txt or 1875.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/1875/ + +Produced by Judy Boss + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I NIGHT + + II SOLITUDE + +III FRIENDSHIP + + IV FAME + + V REMORSE + + VI TRAVEL + + + + +PAINTED WINDOWS + +I + +NIGHT + +YOUNG people believe very little +that they hear about the compen- +sations of growing old, and of living +over again in memory the events of the +past. Yet there really are these com- +pensations and pleasures, and although +they are not so vivid and breathless as +the pleasures of youth, they have some- +thing delicate and fine about them that +must be experienced to be appreciated. + +Few of us would exchange our mem- +ories 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 child- +hood 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 wake- +ful 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. + +Nor is my book of memories without +its illustrations. I can see little vil- +lages, 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 pic- +tures in the ordinary book. People +are walking up the streets of the vil- +lage, 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. + +Of all of these memories I like best +the one in the pine forest. + +I was at that age when children think +of their parents as being all-powerful. +I could hardly have imagined any cir- +cumstances, however adverse, that my +father could not have met with his +strength and wisdom and skill. All chil- +dren have such a period of hero-wor- +ship, 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 rail- +roads; and when my father, who was +attorney for a number of wholesale mer- +cantile firms in Detroit, used to go +about the country collecting money due, +adjusting claims, and so on, he had no +choice but to drive. + +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 pene- +trated. Here the soaked earth became +little less than a quagmire. + +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. + +We had been out two weeks without +failing once to eat at a proper table or +to sleep in a comfortable bed. Some- +times we put up at the stark-looking ho- +tels 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 noth- +ing 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 some- +thing really happened. + +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 magnifi- +cent forest, at first of oak and butter- +nut, ironwood and beech, then of +densely growing pines. When we en- +tered 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. + +"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 Sheri- +dan. 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. + +"What are we going to do?" I asked, +my voice quivering with tears. + +"Well, we aren't going to cry, what- +ever 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 fa- +ther had -- for the first time during our +journey -- laid the lash across Sheri- +dan's back, and that, with a leap of in- +dignation, 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. + +"One journey more," said father, +"for our supper, and then we'll bivouac +right here." + +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. + +Father was keeping up a stream of +cheerful talk. + +"Now, sir," he was saying to Sheri- +dan, "stand still while I get this har- +ness 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." + +I was watching by the faint light of +the lantern, and noticing how unnat- +ural father and Sheridan looked. They +seemed to be blocked out in a rude kind +of way, like some wooden toys I had at +home. + +"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." + +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 to- +gether 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. + +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 happi- +ness 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. + +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 So- +ciety 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 adven- +turers; then, when President Lincoln +called for troops, he had returned to +enlist with the Michigan men, and had +served more than three years with Mc- +Clellan and Grant. + +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 home- +less man, and now, as he cooked, he be- +gan 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. + +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 tree- +tops 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 cam- +paigns. + +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 dis- +tress; 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 battle- +field, the waste of bounty, the ruin of +homes. + +Then, rising above this, came stories +of devotion, of brotherhood, of service +on the long, desolate marches, of cour- +age 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 Lin- +coln at Gettysburg, and learned to re- +peat a part of them. + +I was only eight, it is true, but emo- +tion 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. + +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 fa- +ther said -- and our heads rested on +mounds of pine-needles. + +Sometimes in the night I felt my fa- +ther's hand resting lightly on my shoul- +ders 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 Rappahan- +nock," -- marching forward, with set +teeth, in the face of battle. + +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. + +My father lies with other soldiers by +the Pacific; the forest sings no more; +the old army blankets have disap- +peared; 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. + + + +II + +SOLITUDE + +AMONG the pictures that I see +when I look back into the past, is +the one where I, a sullen, egotistic per- +son nine years old, stood quite alone in +the world. To he sure, there were fa- +ther 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 re- +garded me as friendless or orphaned. +There was nothing in my mere appear- +ance, 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. + +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. + +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 morn- +ing; no one kissed me when I came home +at night. I went to bed unkissed. I +felt myself to be a lonely and misunder- +stood child -- perhaps even an adopted +one. + +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. + +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 be- +fore supper-time." + +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. + +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 Cut- +lers. + +The time had been when Toot had +been my self-appointed slave. Almost +my first recollections were of his carry- +ing 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 ap- +ples, he said: + +"Ah reckon they're your pa's ap- +ples, missy. Why, fo' goodness' sake, +don' yo' he'p yo'se'f?" + +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 con- +ducted 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. + +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 spell- +ing 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. + +I had no need now to have father and +mother tell me to hurry up and finish +my chatter, for I kept all that hap- +pened to myself. I had a new "intimate +friend," and did not so much as men- +tion her. I wrote a poem and showed +it to my teacher, but not to my unin- +terested parents. And when I climbed +the stairs at night to my room, I swelled +with loneliness and anguish and resent- +ment, and the hot tears came to my eyes +as I heard father and mother laughing +and talking together and paying no at- +tention 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. + +No one noticed my sufferings further +than sometimes to say impatiently, +"What makes you act so strange, +child?" And to that, of course, I an- +swered nothing, for what I had to say +would not, I felt, be understood. + +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 ap- +petite 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. + +"You've been out of school too many +days already this term," she said. +"Run along now, or you'll he late!" + +"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 "lastword" glances. + +"Go to school without another word," +she said, quietly. + +I knew that quiet tone, and I went. +And now I was sure that all was over +between my parents and myself. I be- +gan to wonder if I need really wait till +I was grown up before leaving home. +So miserably absorbed was I in think- +ing 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. + +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 per- +ceived, 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. + +"Something is going to happen," +thought I, and over the whole room +spread the same conviction. Electric +currents seemed to snap from one con- +sciousness 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. + +Then it grew black, and there was a +bellowing all about us, so that the com- +mands 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 recollec- +tion is only of many shadowy figures +flying on with sure feet out of the build- +ing that seemed to be falling in upon us. + +Presently we were out on the land- +ing 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 un- +gently, 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. + +Then I saw what looked like a high +yellow wall advancing upon me -- a roar- +ing 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. + +It seemed as if a long time passed, +a time in which I knew very little ex- +cept 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 ear- +splitting roar, and the rain was upon +us in sheets, in streams, in visible riv- +ers. + +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, whip- +ped and almost breathless though I +was, I was still alive. + +And then I saw a curious sight. Down +the street in every direction came rush- +ing 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. + +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, bleat- +ingly, 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 some- +thing 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? + +And breaking out of the crowd of +men who had come running from the +street of stores and offices, was an- +other strange being, with a sort of bat- +tle 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, lean- +ing on the arm of the boy with the roll- +ing eyes, whose eyes had ceased to roll, +and who was quite recognisable now as +Toot. + +A happiness that was almost as ter- +rible as sorrow welled up in my heart. +I did not weep, or laugh, or talk. All +I had experienced had carried me be- +yond 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 un- +spoken assurances of a love such as I +had not dreamed of. + +Father had gone running back to the +school to see if he could be of any as- +sistance 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 trem- +bled as he told of it, and that mother +could not answer, and that Toot sobbed +like a big silly boy. + +Then as we talked together, behold, +a second storm was upon us -- a sharp +black blast of wind and rain, not ter- +rifying, like the other, but with an +"I've-come-to-spend-the-day" sort of +aspect. + +But no one seemed to mind very +much. I was carried down to the sit- +ting-room. Toot busied himself com- +ing and going on this errand and on +that, fastening the doors, closing the +windows, running out to see to the ani- +mals, 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 any- +thing, but with shining eyes. + +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 tem- +pest, but of the peace. + +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 ex- +changed 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. + + + +III + +FRIENDSHIP + +WHEN I look back upon the village +where I lived as a child, I can- +not remember that there were any divi- +sions 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 exclusive- +ness, on all occasions of public celebra- +tion, or when in trouble, we stood to- +gether in the pleasantest and most un- +affected democracy. + +There were only the "Bad Madi- +gans" outside the pale. + +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 fol- +lowed suit, the appearance of the house + --a ramshackle old place beyond the +fair-grounds -- was a scandal; the chil- +dren 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 in- +truders, 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 oc- +cupancy of the man who owned the fair- +grounds; 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. + +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 gen- +erally laid to the Madigans. Unac- +counted-for fires were supposed to be +their doing; they were accorded respon- +sibility for vicious practical jokes; and +it was generally felt that before we +were through with them they would +commit some blood-curdling crime. + +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 be- +ing 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 inor- +dinate appetite for order, suffered such +monotony and drabness to rule. I knew +the Madigan boys could go fishing +whenever they pleased, that the Madi- +gan 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 mem- +bers of the family. + +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: + +On a certain Sunday afternoon in +May, my father and mother and I went +to Emmons' Woods. To reach Em- +mons' 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 petti- +coat. + +Once in Emmons' Woods, there was +enchantment. An eagle might come -- +or a blue heron. There had been bears +in Emmons' Woods -- bears with roll- +ing 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 Dutch- +man's breeches. In the sap-starting +season, the maples dripped their lus- +cious 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 ridicu- +lously. + +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 wil- +lows, where the lilac distance melted +into the pale blue of the sky! And, oh, +the budding of the maples and the fring- +ing of the oaks; and, oh, the blossom- +ing of the tulip trees and the garner- +ing of the chestnuts! And then, the +wriggling things in the grass; the pro- +cession 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. + +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 re- +minded just when the dance was getting +into my feet, but I tried to have Sun- +day manners, and went along in the still +woods, wondering why the purple col- +ours disappeared as we came on and +what had been distance became near- +ness. 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 La- +dies' 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 al- +leys 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 good- +ness, and longed to let out all the in- +teresting, 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 squir- +rels. 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! + +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 my- +self with wild grape-vine; I cared noth- +ing for my fresh braids and wound +trillium in my hair; and I ceased to re- +member my new shoes, and whirled +around and around in the leafy mould, +singing and shouting. + +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 out- +spread, 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. + +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 squir- +rel, and around and around the two of +us danced, crazy as dervishes with the +beauty of the spring and the joy of be- +ing free. + +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. + +"How did you get here?" I asked the +girl. + +"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." + +"Won't you get lost, alone like +that?" + +"I can't get lost, "she sighed. "I 'd +like to, but I can't." + +"Where do you live?" + +"Beyant the fair-grounds." + +"You're not -- not Norah Madigan?" + +She leaned back and clasped her +hands behind her head. Then she +smiled at me teasingly. + +"I am that," she said, showing her +perfect teeth. + +I caught my breath with a sharp +gasp. Ought I to turn back to my par- +ents? Had I been so naughty that I +had called the naughtiest girl in the +whole county out to me? + +But I could not bring myself to leave +her. She was leaning forward and +looking at me now with mocking eyes. + +"Are you afraid?" she demanded. + +"Afraid of what?" I asked, knowing +quite well what she meant. + +"Of me?" she retorted. + +At that second an agreeable truth +overtook me. I leaned forward, too, +and put my hand on hers. + +"Why, I like you!" I cried. She be- +gan laughing again, but this time there +was no mockery in it. She ran her fin- +gers over the embroidery on my linen +frock, she examined the lace on my pet- +ticoat, looked at the bows on my shoes, +and played delicately with the locket +dangling from the slender chain around +my neck. + +"Do you know -- other girls?" she al- +most whispered. + +I nodded. "Lots and lots of 'em," +I said. "Don't you?" + +She shook her head in wistful denial. + +"Us Madigans," she said, "keeps to +ourselves." She said it so haughtily +that for a moment I was almost per- +suaded 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. + +"Well, anyway," said I quickly, "we +know each other." + +"Yes," she cried, "we do that!" + +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. + +"Come!" she called -- "come, let's +swing together!" + +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 play- +mate 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. + +Well, there we were, rocking and +screaming, and telling each other that +we were hawks, and that we were fly- +ing high over the world, when the anx- +ious 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. + +"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 expres- +sion on her face was far from being +the one I liked to see. + +"What have you been doing?" she +demanded. "I thought you were get- +ting old enough and sensible enough to +take care of yourself!" + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"What is her name?" asked mother. +I had no time to answer. The girl did +that. + +"I'm Norah Madigan," she said. +Her tone was respectful, and, maybe, +sad. At any rate, it had a curious +sound. + +"Norah Mad-i-gan?" asked mother +doubtfully, stringing out the word. + +"Yessum," said a low voice. "Good- +bye, mum." + +"Oh, Norah!" cried I, a strange pain +stabbing my heart. "Come to see +me --" + +But my mother's voice broke in, firm +and kind. + +"Good-bye, Norah," said she. + +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. + +"Come!" commanded mother, and +we went back to where father was sit- +ting. + +"What do you think!" said mother. +"I found the child playing with one of +the Bad Madigans. Isn't she a sight!" + +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. + +"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." + +"It isn't that," I sobbed. "Oh, oh, +it isn't that!" + +"What is it, then, for goodness +sake?" asked mother. + +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? + + + +IV + +FAME + +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 lit- +tle 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. + +As for me, I had decided to be an +orator. + +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. + +I based my oratorical aspirations +upon my having taken the prize a num- +ber of times in Sunday-school for learn- +ing the most New Testament verses, +and upon the fact that I always could +make myself heard to the farthest cor- +ner 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. + +Meantime I practised terrible vocal +exercises, chiefly consisting of a rau- +cous "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 be- +fore the glass for hours at a time mak- +ing grimaces so as to acquire the "ac- +tor's face," till my frightened little sis- +ters implored me to turn back into my- +self again. + +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. + +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 lit- +tle lovely harps followed the example +of the harp that "once through Tara's +hall the soul of music shed," and dis- +appeared! Only vague, dirty, yellow +reminders of their beauty remained, +not to decorate, but to disfigure the +fine fabric. + +Aunt Bess, naturally enough, felt ir- +ritated, 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 splen- +dour, and I was not happy in the +thought of dangling these dimmed re- +minders 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 fa- +vorite study of mine. + +Well, though the dress became some- +thing 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 be- +ing 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 repre- +sented my talents, and so, after some +thought, I selected "Antony and Cleo- +patra," and as I lagged along the too- +familiar road to school, avoiding the +companionship of my acquaintances, I +repeated: + + +I am dying, Egypt, dying! + Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, +And the dark Plutonian shadows + Gather on the evening blast. + + +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: + + +As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian! + Glorious sorceress of the Nile! +Light the path to Stygian horrors + With the splendour of thy smile. + + +I wiped dishes to the rhythm of such +phrases as "scarred and veteran le- +gions," and laced my shoes to the music +of "Though no glittering guards sur- +round me." + +Confident that no one could fail to +see the beauty of these lines, or the pro- +priety 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 ple- +beian rabble --" when Miss Goss broke +down in what I could not but regard as +a fit of giggles, and I ceased abruptly. + +She pulled herself together after a +moment or two, and said if I would fol- +low her to the library she thought she +could find something -- here she hesi- +tated, to conclude with, "more within +the understanding of the other chil- +dren." I saw that she thought my feel- +ings were hurt, and as I passed a mir- +ror 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 in- +significant for the vicarious emotions +which it had been housing. "Ridicu- +lous!" + +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. + +She took from the shelves a little vol- +ume of Whittier, bound in calf, hand- +ling it as tenderly as if it were a price- +less 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 pov- +erty of rhyme and the plethora of sen- +timent, repeated the thing relentlessly. + + +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]. + + +"I do think," said Miss Goss gently, +"that if you tried, my child, you might +manage the rhymes just a little better." + + +"But if you're born in Michigan," I +protested, "how can you possibly make +'Eva' rhyme with 'never' and 'be- +liever'?" + +"Perhaps it is a little hard," Miss +Goss agreed, and still clinging to her +Whittier, she exhumed "The Pump- +kin," 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 glit- +tering through Whittier's kindly verse. +As the days went by I came to have a +certain fondness for those homely lines: + +O -- fruit loved of boyhood! -- the old days re- + +calling, +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! + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +In this seemly manner Whittier's ode +to the pumpkin began. I meant to go +on to verses which I knew would de- +light my audience -- to references to the +"crook-necks" ripening under the Sep- +tember sun; and to Thanksgiving gath- +erings at which all smiled at the reun- +ion of friends and the bounty of the board. + + +What moistens the lip and brightens the eye! +What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie! + + +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. + +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 mem- +ory would be giving me the right words, +and my facile tongue running along re- +liably, but I wished to demonstrate that +"ability" which was to bring me fa- +vour 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 audi- +ence with: + + +Though my scarred and veteran legions + Bear their eagles high no more; +And my wrecked and scattered galleys + Strew dark Actium's fatal shore. + + +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 eter- +nity -- I could say nothing. Then I +found myself in the clutches of the in- +stinct 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; per- +haps some faint, faint spark of the di- +vine 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. + +I went to my seat amid what I was +pleased to consider "thunders of ap- +plause," and by way of acknowledg- +ment, I spoke, with chastened propri- +ety, Whittier's ode to the pumpkin. + +I cannot remember whether or not I +was scolded. I'm afraid, afterward, +some people still laughed. As for me, +oddly enough, my oratorical aspira- +tions 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. + + + +V + +REMORSE + +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 for- +gotten; 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. + +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. + +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 con- +descending -- goddess, somehow made +me cross. + +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, beauti- +ful 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 dif- +ferent 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. + +I knew mother was busy making cus- +tards and cakes for Aunt Cordelia, and +I longed to be in watching these pleas- +ing 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. May- +be 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 disposi- +tion -- or perhaps I ought to say that I +felt a fiendish satisfaction in the discov- +ery that I had one. + +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 be- +fore 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 dispropor- +tionate splendours; splendours which +represented the ambitions rather than +the achievements of the family. It tow- +ered, large, square, imposing, with hints +of M. Mansard's grandiose architectu- +ral 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 await- +ing 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 ceil- +ings 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. + +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, in- +clined 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. + +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. + +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 sub- +merged 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. + +As for me, I got up somehow and fol- +owed. 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. + +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 re- +lief: + +"Aside from a shaking up, I don't +believe she's a bit the worse." + +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 em- +phatic Anglo-Saxon the opinions of my +father and mother about a girl who +would put her little sister's life in dan- +ger, and would disobey her parents. +And after that I was put in my moth- +er's bedroom to pass the rest of the +day, and was told I needn't expect to +come to the table with the others. + +I accepted my fate stoically, and be- +ing 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 cu- +rious 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. + +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. + +When I awoke it was the close of day. +Long tender shadows lay across the +fields, the sky had that wonderful clear- +ness and kindness which is like a hu- +man 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 win- +dow 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. Sup- +per 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 ac- +cent 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 curi- +osity 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 per- +ceived 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 oc- +curred to me that I would add to my +faults if I tried to put the blame on any- +body else. + +Now that the first shock was over and +that my sleep had refreshed me, I be- +gan 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 in- +tact. 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 com- +municating with the little dressing- +room in which Julie's cradle stood. The +curtain had been drawn and it was al- +most 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 hap- +piness, and with love for this little crea- +ture, 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!" + +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. + +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. + +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 uni- +verse? "World without end" might +mean that there was neither an end to +space nor yet to time. I shivered at +thought of such vastness. + +Suddenly light streamed about me, +warm arms enfolded me. + +"Mother!" I murmured, and slipped +from the unknown to the dear familiar- +ity of her shoulder. + +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 inde- +scribable something that was not quite +odour, not all softness, but was com- +pounded 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. + +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. + +"This is my eldest girl, Aunt Cor- +delia," said my mother. I went for- +ward timidly, wondering if I were +really going to be greeted by this per- +son who must have heard such terrible +reports of me. I found myself caught +by the hands and drawn into the em- +brace of this new, grand acquaintance. + +"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!" + +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. + + + +VI + +TRAVEL + +IT was time to say good-bye. + +I had been down to my little +brother's grave and watered the sorrel +that grew on it -- I thought it was sor- +row, 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 be- +neath 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 hav- +ing 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. + +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 Ha- +waii, say, or for Egypt. + +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 be- +tween 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. + +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 lit- +tle town, and would not build up to the +railroad because the railroad had re- +fused 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 cre- +ated 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 be- +ing, and to stay right there till he came +for me at my station. + +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 be- +longed to a family of travellers -- as wit- +ness 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 adven- +ture. + +However, I noticed that most of them +looked poor. Their clothes were old +and ugly; their faces not those of pleas- +ure-seekers. It was very difficult to +imagine that they could afford a jour- +ney, which was, as I believed, a great +luxury. At first, the people looked to +be all of a sort, but after a little I be- +gan to see the differences, and to no- +tice 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. + +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 grand- +mother 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 cut- +ting 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 be- +tween 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 lacerat- +ing elastic, leaving a welt behind it! + +"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!" + +An old woman with a face like a hen +leaned over the back of the seat. + +"What's she done? What's she +done?" she demanded. The mother +told her, as the grandmother comforted +the hurt baby. + +"Go back to your seat and stay +there!" commanded the mother. "See +you don't come near here again!" + +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 un- +derstood! That was unendurable. +Would they listen to the gentle word +that turneth away wrath? I was in- +clined to think not. I was fairly pant- +ing under my load of dismay and de- +spondency, 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. + +"What do you think Aunt Ellen sent +me last week?" he inquired. + +We seemed to be old acquaintances, +and in my second of perplexity I de- +cided 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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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 every- +thing about the place -- like the 'Old +Man' that grows by the gate; and the +tomato trellis -- nobody else treats to- +matoes like flowers; and the herb gar- +den, 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!" + +As the delicious sugar melted on my +tongue, the sorrows melted in my soul, +and I was just about to make some in- +quiries about Aunt Ellen, whose per- +sonal qualities seemed to be growing +clearer and clearer in my mind, when +my conductor came striding down the +aisle. + +"Where's my little girl?" he de- +manded heartily. "Ah, there she is, +just where I left her, in good company +and eating maple sugar, as I live." + +"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. + +"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 look- +ing over her grandmother's shoulder, +and she ran out a very red, serpent- +like tongue at me. + +"She's a good girl, and almost as +fond of Aunt Ellen as I am," said the +large man, finding my pocket, and put- +ting a huge piece of maple sugar in it. + +The conductor, meantime, was gath- +ering 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 di- +rections to the driver, deposited me +within, and ran back to his train. And +I, alone again, looked about me. + +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 accom- +plished, the driver checked up the +horses, mounted to his high seat, was +joined by a heavy young man; two gen- +tlemen entered the inside of the coach, +and we were off. + +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 mid- +dle-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: + +"Where are you going, my child?" + +I told him. + +"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." + +"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!" + +His head nodded strangely, as he +lifted it and looked at me with his +laughing eye. + +"It's a pity I don't know him, that +being the case," he said gently. "But, +anyway, you're a lucky little girl." + +"Yes," I sighed, "I am, indeed." + +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 confi- +dences across the harmless gulf with +this nice-looking boy, when, most unex- +pectedly, the horses began to plunge. +The next second the air was filled with +buzzing black objects. + +"Bees!" said the king. It was the +first word he had spoken, and a true +word it was. Swarming bees had set- +tled in the road, and we had driven un- +aware into the midst of them. The +horses were distracted, and made blind- +ly 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. + +"God bless me!" said the king. + +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 min- +utes 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. + +After this, we all felt quite well ac- +quainted, 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 set- +tlers 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. + +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. + +"We're here!" said the driver. + +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. + +"It's been a tremendously long and +interesting journey," I said. + +"Yes," he answered. "Ten miles +by rail and ten by stage. I suppose +you've had a great many adventures!" + +"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 inquir- +ing for his health, and the bishop an- +swering in his kind, deep voice, and +saying I was indeed a good traveller +and saw all there was to see -- and a lit- +tle 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 dif- +ferent. 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. + +"I should say I have had adven- +tures!" I cried. + +"We'll get home to your aunt," he +said, "and then we'll hear all about +them." + +We crossed a bridge above the roar- +ing mill-race, went up a lane, and en- +tered 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 de- +parted -- love and honour and hospital- +ity were still to dwell. + +"Travel's a great thing," said my +uncle, as he helped me off with my +jacket. + +"Yes," I answered, solemnly, "it is +a great privilege to see the world." + +I still am of that opinion. I have +seen some odd bits of it, and I cannot +understand why it is that other jour- +neys 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. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Painted Windows, by Elia W. Peattie + diff --git a/old/pwnds10.zip b/old/pwnds10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c17bf6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/pwnds10.zip |