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diff --git a/43624-0.txt b/43624-0.txt index 86b6c2d..ea9ae18 100644 --- a/43624-0.txt +++ b/43624-0.txt @@ -1,36 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Friend Annabel Lee, by Mary MacLane - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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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: My Friend Annabel Lee - -Author: Mary MacLane - -Release Date: September 2, 2013 [EBook #43624] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - - - - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - - - - - - - - - My Friend Annabel Lee - - - - - [Photograph: Author's portrait] - [Signature: Mary MacLane] - - - - - MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - - BY - Mary MacLane - - - [Illustration: Publisher's logo] - - - Chicago - Herbert S. Stone and Company - MCMIII - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1903 - BY - HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY - _Issued September 1, 1903_ - - - - - TO - LUCY GRAY, IN CHICAGO - THIS BOOK - AND ONE PALE LAVENDER FLOWER OF AMARANTH - - MONTREAL - JULY, 1903 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. The Coming of Annabel Lee 1 - II. The Flat Surfaces of Things 7 - III. My Friend Annabel Lee 13 - IV. Boston 15 - V. A Small House in the Country 29 - VI. The Half-Conscious Soul 35 - VII. The Young-Books of Trowbridge 43 - VIII. "Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother" 55 - IX. Relative 61 - X. Minnie Maddern Fiske 69 - XI. Like a Stone Wall 81 - XII. To Fall in Love 89 - XIII. When I Went to the Butte High School 97 - XIV. "And Mary MacLane and Me" 113 - XV. A Story of Spoon-Bills 131 - XVI. A Measure of Sorrow 153 - XVII. A Lute with no Strings 163 - XVIII. Another Vision of my Friend Annabel Lee 173 - XIX. The Art of Contemplation 183 - XX. Concerning Little Willy Kaatenstein 193 - XXI. A Bond of Sympathy 225 - XXII. The Message of a Tender Soul 233 - XXIII. Me to My Friend Annabel Lee 241 - XXIV. My Friend Annabel Lee to Me 255 - XXV. The Golden Ripple 257 - - - - -My Friend Annabel Lee - - - - -I - -THE COMING OF ANNABEL LEE - - -But the only person in Boston town who has given me of the treasure -of her heart, and the treasure of her mind, and the touch of her -fair hand in friendship, is Annabel Lee. - -Since I looked for no friendship whatsoever in Boston town, this -friendship comes to me with the gentleness of sunshowers mingled -with cherry-blossoms, and there is a human quality in the air that -rises from the bitter salt sea. - -Years ago there was one who wrote a poem about Annabel Lee--a -different lady from this lady, it may be, or perhaps it is the -same--and so now this poem and this lady are never far from me. - -If indeed Poe did not mean this Annabel Lee when he wrote so -enchanting a heart-cry, I at any rate shall always mean this Annabel -Lee when Poe's enchanting heart-cry runs in my mind. - -Forsooth Poe's Annabel Lee was not so enchanting as this Annabel -Lee. - -I think this as I gaze up at her graceful little figure standing on -my shelf; her wonderful expressive little face; her strange white -hands; her hair bound and twisted into glittering black ropes and -wound tightly around her head. - -Were you to see her you would say that Annabel Lee is only a very -pretty little black and terra-cotta and white statue of a Japanese -woman. And forthwith you would be greatly mistaken. - -It is true that she had stood in extremely dusty durance vile, in -a Japanese shop in Boylston street, for months before I found her. -It is also true that I fell instantly in love with her, and that -on payment of a few strange dollars to the shop-keeper, I rescued -her from her surroundings and bore her out to where I live by the -sea--the sea where these wonderful, wide, green waves are rolling, -rolling, rolling always. Annabel Lee hears these waves, and I hear -them, at times holding our breath and listening until our eyes are -strained with listening and with some haunting terror, and the low -rushing goes to our two pale souls. - -For though my friend Annabel Lee lived dumbly and dustily for -months in the shop in Boylston street, as if she were indeed but a -porcelain statue, and though she was purchased with a price, still -my friend Annabel Lee is exquisitely human. - -There are days when she fills my life with herself. - -She gives rise to manifold emotions which do not bring rest. - -It was not I who named her Annabel Lee. That was always her name--that -is who she is. It is not a Japanese name, to be sure--and she is -certainly a native of Japan. But among the myriad names that are, -that alone is the one which suits her; and she alone of the myriad -maidens in the world is the one to wear it. - -She wears it matchlessly. - -I have the friendship of Annabel Lee; but for her love, that is -different. - -Annabel Lee is like no one you have known. She is quite unlike -them all. Times I almost can feel a subtle, conscious love coming -from her finger-tips to my forehead. And I, at one-and-twenty, am -thrilled with thrills. - -Forsooth, at one-and-twenty, in spite of Boston and all, there -are moments when one can yet thrill. - -But other times I look up and perchance her eyes will meet mine -with a look that is cold and penetrating and contemptuous and -confounding. - -Other times I look up and see her eyes full of indifference, full -of tranquillity, full of dull deadly quiet. - -Came Annabel Lee from out of Boylston street in Boston. And lo, -she was so adorable, so fascinating, so lovable, that straightway -I adored her; I was fascinated by her; I loved her. - -I love her tenderly. For why, I know not. How can there be accounting -for the places one's loves will rest? - -Sometimes my friend Annabel Lee is negative and sometimes she is -positive. - -Sometimes when my mind seems to have wandered infinitely far from -her I realize suddenly that 'tis she who holds it enthralled. -Whatsoever I see in Boston or in the vision of the wide world my -judgment of it is prejudiced in ways by the existence of my friend -Annabel Lee--the more so that it's mostly unconscious prejudice. - -Annabel Lee's is an intense personality--one meets with intense -personalities now and again, in children or in bull-dogs or in -persons like my friend Annabel Lee. - -And I never tire of looking at Annabel Lee, and I never tire of -listening to her, and I never tire of thinking about her. - -And thinking of her, my mind grows wistful. - - - - -II - -THE FLAT SURFACES OF THINGS - - -"There are moments," said my friend Annabel Lee, "when, willy nilly, -they must all come out upon the flat surfaces of things. - -"They look deep into the green water as the sun goes down, and their -mood is heavy. Their heart aches, and they shed no tears. They look -out over the brilliant waves as the sun comes up, and their mood is -light-hearted and they enjoy the moment. Or else their heart aches -at the rising and their mood is light-hearted at the setting. But -let it be one or the other, there are bland moments when they see -nothing but flat surfaces. If they find all at once, by a little -accident, that their best-loved is a traitor friend, and they go at -the sun's setting and gaze deep into the green water, and all is -dark and dead as only a traitor best-beloved can make it, and their -mood is very heavy--still there is a bland moment when their stomach -tells them they are hungry, and they listen to it. It is the flat -surface. After weeks, or it may be days, according to who they are, -their mood will not be heavy--yet still their stomach will tell them -they are hungry, and they will listen. If their best-loved cease to -be, suddenly--that is bad for them, oh, exceeding bad; they suffer, -and it takes weeks for them to recover, and the mark of the wound -never wears away. But with time's encouraging help they do recover. -But if," said my friend Annabel Lee, "their stomach should cease to -be, not only would they suffer--they would die--and whither away? -That is a flat surface and a very truth. And when they consider -it--for one bland moment--they laugh gently and cease to have a -best-loved, entirely; they cease to fill their veins with red, red -life; they become like unto mice--mice with long slim tails. - -"For one bland moment. - -"And, too, the bland moment is long enough for them to feel restfully, -deliciously, but unconsciously, thankful that there are these flat -surfaces to things and that they can thus roll at times out upon -them. - -"They roll upon the flat surfaces much as a horse rolls upon the -flat prairie where the wind is. - -"And when for the first time they fall in love, if their belt is -too tight there will come a bland moment when they will be aware -that their belt is thus tight--and they will not be aware of much -else. - -"During that bland moment they will loosen their belt. - -"When they were eight or nine years old and found a fine, ripe, -juicy-plum patch, and while they were picking plums a balloon -suddenly appeared over their heads, their first delirious impulse -was to leave all and follow the balloon over hill and dale to the -very earth's end. - -"But even though a real live balloon went sailing over their heads, -they considered this: that _some other kids would get our plums that -we had found_. A balloon was glorious--a balloon was divine--but -even so, there was a bland moment in which the thought of some -vicious, tow-headed Swede children from over the hill, who would -rush in on the plums, came just in time to make the balloon pall -on them. - -"But," said my friend Annabel Lee, "by the same token, in talking -over the balloon after it had vanished down the sky, there would -come another bland moment when the plums would pall upon them--pall -completely, and would appear hateful in their eyes for having kept -from them the joy of following the divine balloon. That is another -aspect of the flat surfaces of things. And they must all come out -upon the flat surfaces, willy-nilly. - -"And," said Annabel Lee, glancing at me as my mind was dimly wistful; -"not only must they come out upon the flat surfaces of things, but -also you and I must come, willy-nilly. - -"And since we _must_ come, willy-nilly," added the lady, "then -why not stay out upon the flat surfaces? Certainly 'twill save the -trouble of coming next time. Perhaps, however, it's all in the -coming." - - - - -III - -MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -My friend Annabel Lee never fails to fascinate and confound me. - -Much as she gives, there is in her infinitely more to get. - -My relation with her never goes on, and it never goes back. It leads -nowhere. She and I stop together in the midst of our situation and -look about us. And what we see in the looking about is all and -enough to consider. - -And considering, I write of it. - - - - -IV - -BOSTON - - -Yesterday the lady was in her most amiable mood, and we talked -together--about Boston, it so happened. - -"Do you like Boston?" she asked me. - -"Yes," I replied; "I am fond of Boston. It fascinates me." - -"But not fonder of it than of Butte, in Montana?" - -"Oh, no," said I, hastily. "Butte in Montana is my first love. -There are barren mountains there--they are with me always. Boston -doesn't go to my heart in the least, but I like it much. I like to -live here." - -"I am fond of Boston--sometimes," Annabel Lee observed. "Here by -the sea it is not quite Boston. It is everything. This sea washes -down by enchanted purple islands and touches at the coast of Spain. -But if one can but turn one's eyes from it for a moment, Boston is -a fine and good thing, and interesting." - -"I think it is--from several points of view," I agreed. - -"Tell me what you find that interests you in Boston," said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"There are many things," I replied. "I have found a little corner -down by the East Boston wharf where often I sit on cold days. The -sun shines bright and warm on a narrow wooden platform between -two great barrels, and I can be hidden there, but I can watch the -madding crowd as it goes. The crowd is very madding down around East -Boston. And I do not lack company--sometimes brave, sharp-toothed -rats venture out on the ground below me. They can not see the -madding crowd, but they can enjoy the sunshine and hunt mice among -the rubbish. - -"The dwellers in East Boston--they are the poor we have always with -us. They are not the meek, the worthy, the deserving poor. They are -the devilish, the ill-conditioned--one with the wharf rats that hunt -for mice. Except that the rats do occasionally try to clean their -soft, gray coats by licking them with their little red tongues; -whereas, the poor--But why should the poor wash? Are they not the -poor? - -"As I rest me between my two great barrels and watch this grewsome -pageant, I think: It seems a quite desperate thing to be poor in -Boston, for Boston is said to be of the best-seasoned knowledge and -to carry a lump of ice in its heart. From between my two barrels in -East Boston I have seen humanity, oh, so brutal, oh, so barbarous -as ever it could have been in merrie England in the reign of good -old Harry the Eighth.---- - -"And so then that is very interesting." - -"In truth it is so," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Boston is fair, and very fair.--Tell me more." - -"And times," I said, "I sit in one of the window-seats on the stairway -of the Public Library. And I look at the walls. A Frenchman with -a marvelous fancy and great skill in his finger-ends has worked -on those walls. He painted there the emblems of all the world's -great material things of all ages. And over them he painted a thin -gray veil of those things that are not material, that come from no -age, that are with us, around us, above us--as they were with the -children of Israel, with the dwellers in Pompeii, with the fair -cities of Greece and the inhabitants thereof. - -"I have looked at the paintings and I have been dazzled and -transported. What is there not upon those walls! - -"I have seen, in truth, 'the vision of the world and all the wonder -that shall be.' - -"I have seen the struggling of the chrysalis-soul and its bursting -into light; I have seen the divinity that doth sometime hedge the -earth; I have looked at a conception of Poetry and I have heard -the thin, rhythmic sounds of shawms and stringed instruments; and -I have heard low, voluptuous music from within the temple--human -voices like sweet jessamine; I have seen the fascinating idolatry -of pagans--and I have seen, pale in the evening by the light of -a star, the wooden figure of the Cross; I have leaned over the -edge of a chasm and beheld the things of old--the army of Hannibal -before Carthage--the Norsemen going down to the sea in ships--the -futile, savage fighting of Goths and Vandals; I have seen science -and art within the walled cities, and I have seen frail little lambs -gamboling by the side of the brook; I have seen night-shades lowering -over occult works, and I have seen bees flying heavy-laden to their -hives on a fine summer's morning; I have heard a lute played where a -tiny cataract leaps, and the pipes of Pan mingled with the bubbling -notes of a robin in mint meadows; I have seen pages and pages of -printed lines that reach from world's end to world's end; I have -seen profound words written centuries ago in inks of many colors; I -have seen and been overwhelmed by the marvels of scientific things -bristling with the accurate kind of knowledge that I shall never -know; withal, I have seen the complete serenity of the world's -face, as shown by the brush of the Frenchman Chavannes. - -"And over all, the nebulous conception of the long, ignorant silence. - -"What is there not upon those wonderful walls! - -"I sit in semi-consciousness in the little window-seat and these -things swim before my two gray eyes. My mind is full of the vision -of murmuring, throbbing life. - -"But what a thing is life, truly--for marvelous as are these -pictures, those that I have seen, times, down where the rats forage -among the rubbish, are more marvelous still." - -"Truly," said my friend Annabel Lee, "there is much, much, in -Boston. Tell me more." - -"Well, and there is the South Station," I went on. "Oh, not until -one has ambled and idled away a thousand hours in that place of -trains and varied peoples can one know all of what is really to -be found within its waiting-rooms. - -"I have found Massachusetts there--not any Massachusetts that I had -ever read about, but the Massachusetts that comes in from Braintree -and Plymouth and Middleboro carrying a Boston shopping-bag; the -Massachusetts that is intellectual and thrusts its forefinger through -the handle of its tea-cup; the Massachusetts that eats soup from -the end of its spoon; the Massachusetts that is good-hearted but -walks funny; the Massachusetts that takes all the children and goes -down to Providence for a day--each of the children with a thick, -yellow banana in its hand; the Massachusetts that has its being -because the world wears shoes--for it is intellectual and can make -shoes. - -"And in the South Station, furthermore, there are people from the -wide world around. Actors and authors and artists are to be seen -coming in and going out and sitting waiting in the waiting-rooms. -Some mightily fine and curious persons have sat waiting in those -waiting-rooms, as well as dingy Italians with strings of beads -around their necks. - -"And in the South Station there are so many, many people, that, -once in a long while, one can meet with some of those tiny things -that one has waited for for centuries. In among a multitude of -faces there may be a young face with lines of worn and vivid life -in it, and with alert and much-used eyes, and with soft dull hair -above it. In a flash one recognizes it, and in a flash it is gone. -It is a face that means beautiful things and one has known it and -its divineness a long, long time. And here in the South Station in -Boston came the one gold glimpse of it. - -"And I have seen in the South Station a strange scene: that of a -mild Jew man bearing the brunt of caring for his large family of -small children, while their child-weary mother was allowed for once -in her life to rest completely, sitting with her eyes closed and -her hands folded. She might well rest tranquil in the thought that -in giving birth to that small Hebraic army she had done her share -of this dubious world's penance. - -"And in the South Station, as much as anywhere, one feels the air -of Boston. - -"The air of Boston, too, is wonderful--and 'tis not free for all to -breathe. 'Tis for the anointed--the others must content them with -the untinted, unscented air that blows wild from mountain-tops and -north seas. But for me, I have eyes wherewith to see--and since the -air of Boston has color, I can see it. And I have ears wherewith -to hear--and since the air of Boston has musical vibrations, I can -hear it. And I have sensibility--wherefore all that is pungent in -the air of Boston, and all that is fine, and all that is art, and -all that is beautiful, and all that is true, and all that is benign, -and particularly all that is very cool and all that is bitterly -contemptuous--are not wholly lost upon me. - -"If all the persons who go to and fro at the South Station were -heroes and breathed the air there and left their dim shadows behind -them--as they do--I presume the South Station would be hallowed -ground. They all are not heroes, but they breathe the air and leave -their dim shadows, whatever they may be, and ever after the air -of the South Station is tinctured. And since more than a half of -these people are of Boston, the air is tinctured therewith. - -"If you are civilized and conventional you may know and breathe this -air. If you are not--well, at least you may stand and contemplate -it. And always one can bide one's time. - -"My contemplation of it has interested me. - -"The air of Boston is a mingling of very ancient and very modern -things and ways of thinking that are picturesque and at times lead -to something. The ancient things date back to Confucius and others -of his ilk--and the modern ones are tinted with Lilian Whiting and -newspapers and the theater. - -"One is half-conscious of this as one contemplates, and one's thought -is, 'Woe is me that I have my habitation among the tents of Kedar!' -One exclaims this not so much that one considers oneself benighted, -but that one is very sure that the air of Boston considers one so. -To be sure, it ought to know, but, somehow, as yet one is content -to bide one's time. - -"But yes. There is a beatified quality in the air of Boston. It -is tinted with rose and blue. It sounds, remotely, of chimes and -flutes. You feel it, perchance, when you sit within the subdued, -brilliant stillness of Trinity church--when you walk among the green -and gold fields about Brookline and Cambridge, where orchids are -lifting up their pale, soft lips--when you are in the Museum of -Fine Arts and see, hanging on the wall, a small dull-toned picture -that is old--so old! - -"Music is in the air of Boston. It pours into the heart like fire -and flood--it awakens the soul from its dreaming--it sends the -human being out into the many-colored pathways to see, to suffer, -it may be--yes, surely to suffer--but to live, oh, to live! - -"One can see in the mists the slender, gray figure of one's own -soul rising and going to mingle with all these. In spite of the -clouds about it, one knows its going and that it is well. It was -long since said: 'My beloved has gone down into her garden to the -bed of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.' And -now again is the beloved in the garden, and in those moments, oh, -life is fair"---- - -My friend Annabel Lee opened her lips--her lips like damp, red -quince-blooms in the spring-time--and told me that there were times -when I interested her, times when I amused her mightily, and times -when in me she made some rare discoveries. - -But which of the three this time was, she has not told. - - - - -V - -A SMALL HOUSE IN THE COUNTRY - - -But Boston--or even Butte in Montana--is not to be compared to a -lodging-place far down in the country: a tiny house by the side -of a fishy, mossy pond, in summer-time, with the hot sun shining -on the door-step, and a clump of willows and an oak-tree growing -near; on the side of the house where the sun is bright in the -morning, some small square beds of radishes, and pale-green heads -of lettuce, and straight, neat rows of young onions, with the moist -earth showing black between the rows; and a few green peas growing -by a small fence; and on the other side of the little house grass -will grow--tall rank grass and some hardy weeds, and perhaps a -tiger-lily or two will come up unawares. The fishy pond will not -be too near the house, nor too far away--but near enough so that -the singing of the frogs in the night will sound clear and loud. - -Rolling hills will be lying fair and green at a distance, and -cattle will wander and graze upon them in the shade of low-hanging -branches. On still afternoons a quail or a pheasant will be heard -calling in the woods. - -The air that will blow down the long gentle uplands will be very -sweet. The message that it brings, as it touches my cheeks and my -lips and my forehead, will be one of exceeding deep peace. - -I would live in the little house with a friend of my heart--a friend -in the shadows and half-lights and brilliances. For if the hearts -of two are tuned in accord the harmony may be of exquisite tenor. - -In the very early morning I would sit on the doorstep where the -sun shines, and my eyes would look off at the prospect. Life would -throb in my veins. - -In the middle of the forenoon I would be kneeling in the beds of -radishes and slim young onions and lettuce, pulling the weeds from -among them and staining my two hands with black roots. - -In the middle of the day I would sit in the shade, but where I could -see the sunshine touching the brilliant greenness, near the house -and afar. And I could see the pond glaring with beams and motes. - -In the late afternoon I, with the friend of my heart, would walk down -among the green valleys and wooded hills, by fences and crumbling -stone walls, until we reached a point of vantage where we could -see the sea. - -In the night, when the sun had gone and the earth had cooled and -the dark, dark gray had fallen over all, we would sit again on the -doorstep. It would be lonesome there, with the sound of the frogs -and of night-birds--and there would be a cricket chirping. We would -speak to each other with one or two words through long stillnesses. - -Presently would come the dead midnight, and we would be in heavy -sleep beneath the low, hot roof of the little house. - -Mingled with the dead midnight would be memories of the day that -had just gone. In my sleep I would seem to walk again in the -meadows, and the green of the countless grass-blades would affect -me with a strange delirium--as if now for the first time I saw -them. Each little grass-blade would have a voice and would shout: -_Mary MacLane, oh, we are the grass-blades and we are here! We are -the grass-blades, we are the grass-blades, and we are here!_ - -And yes. That would be the marvelous thing--that they were _here_. -And would not the leaves be upon the trees?--and would not tiny -pale flowers be growing in the ground?--and would not the sky be -over all? Oh, the unspeakable sky! - -In the dead midnight sleep would leave me and I would wake in a -vision of beauty and of horror, with fear at my heart, with horrible -fear at my heart. - -Then frantically I would think of the little radish-beds outside -the window--how common and how satisfying they were. Thus thinking, -I would sleep again and wake to the sun's shining. - -"You would not," said my friend Annabel Lee, "stay long in such a -place." - -I looked at her. - -"Its simplicity and truth," said my friend Annabel Lee, "would -deal you deep wounds and scourge you and drive you forth as if you -were indeed a money-changer in the temple." - - - - -VI - -THE HALF-CONSCIOUS SOUL - - -Annabel Lee leaned her two elbows on the back of a tiny sandalwood -chair and looked down at me. - -We regarded each other coldly, as friends do, times. - -"You," said Annabel Lee, "have a half-conscious soul. Such a soul -that when it hears a strain of music can hear away to the music's -depths but can understand only one-half of its meaning; but because -it is half-conscious it knows that it understands only the half, -and must need weep for the other half; such a soul that when it -wanders into the deep green and meets there a shadow-woman, with -long, dark hair and an enchanting voice, it feels to its depths -the spirit of the green and the voice of the shadow-woman, but -can understand only one-half of what they tell: but because it is -half-conscious it knows that it understands only the half, and must -need weep for the other half; such a soul that when it is bound and -fettered heavily, it knows since it is half-conscious, that it is -bound and fettered, but knows not why nor wherefore nor whether it -is well, which is the other half--and it must need weep for it; such -a soul that when it hears thunderings in the wild sky will awaken -from sleep and listen--listen, but since it is half-conscious it -can only hear, not know--and it sounds like an unknown voice in an -unknown language, telling the dying speech of its best-loved--it is -frantic to know the translation which is the other half; such a soul -that when life gathers itself up from around it and stands before -it and says, Now, contemplate life, it contemplates, since it is -half-conscious, but it for that same reason strains its eyes to -look over life's shoulders into the dimness--which is an impossible -thing, and the other half; such a soul that when it finds itself -mingling in love for its friend, and all, it enjoys, oh, vividly -in all moments but the crucial moments, when it aches in torment -and doubt--for it is half-conscious and so knows its lacking. - -"Desolate is the way of the half-conscious soul," said Annabel Lee. - -"The wholly conscious soul receives into itself things in their -entirety without question or wonder: the half-conscious soul receives -the half of things, and knowing that there is another half, it -wonders and questions till all's black. - -"The wholly conscious soul is different from the wholly unconscious -soul in that the former is positive whilst the latter is negative--and -they both in their nature can find rest: but the half-conscious -soul knows that it is half-conscious, still it knows not at what -points it is conscious and at what points unconscious--for when it -thinks itself conscious, lo, it is unconscious, and when it thinks -itself unconscious it is heavily, bitterly conscious--and nowhere -can it find rest. - -"The wholly conscious soul holds up before its eyes a mirror and -gazes at itself, its color, its texture, its quality, its desires -and motives, without flinching, in the strong light of day; the -wholly unconscious soul knows not that it is a soul, and never uses -a mirror: but the half-conscious soul looks into its glass in the -gray light of dusk--it sees its color, its texture, its quality, -its desires--but its motives are hidden. Its eyes are wide in the -gray light to learn what those, its own motives, are. It can not -know, but it can never rest for trying to know. - -"The wholly conscious soul knows its love, its sorrow, its -bitterness, its remorse. - -"The half-conscious soul knows its love--and wonders why it loves, -and wonders if it really can love any but itself, and wonders that -it cares for love; the half-conscious soul knows its sorrow--and -marvels that it should have sorrow since it can grasp not truth; -the half-conscious soul knows its bitterness, and realizes at once -its right to and its reason for bitterness--but, thinking of it, -the arrow is turned in the wound; the half-conscious soul knows -its remorse, but it is convinced that it has no right to remorse, -since it does its unworthy acts with infinite forethought. - -"The wholly conscious soul is a chastened spirit and so has its -measure of happiness; the wholly unconscious soul is an unchastened -spirit, for it deserves no chastisement--neither has it any -happiness, for it knows not whether it is happy or otherwise: but -the half-conscious soul is chastised where it is not deserving of -it, and goes unchastised where it is richly deserving of it--and -so has no happiness, but instead, unhappiness. - -"Woe to the half-conscious soul," said Annabel Lee. - -"How brilliantly does the emerald sea flash in the sunshine before -the eyes of the half-conscious soul!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"How melting-sweet is the perfume of the blue anemone to the sense -of the half-conscious soul!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"How beautiful are the bronze lights in the eyes of its friend to -the half-conscious soul!--that burn it with mad-fire. - -"How joyous is the half-conscious soul at the sounds of singing -voices on water!--that burn it with mad-fire. - -"How surely come the wild, sweet meanings of the outer air into the -depths of the half-conscious soul!--but burn it with mad-fire. - -"How madly happy is the half-conscious soul in still hours at sight -of a solitary pine-tree upon the mountain-top!--that burns it with -mad-fire. - -"How tenderly comes Truth to the half-conscious soul in the dead -watches of the night!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"Life is vivid, alert, telling to the half-conscious soul," said -Annabel Lee. - -"You," said Annabel Lee, "with your half-conscious soul, when you -sit where the gray waves wash the sea-wall at high-tide, when you -sit listening with your head bent and your hands dead cold, you -think you realize your life--you think you know its hardness--you -think you have measured the cruelty they will give you; but you do -not know. You know but half--you weep for the other half, though -it be horror. - -"Still, though you are but half-conscious, though you weep for the -other half, when you sit listening with your head bent and your hands -dead cold, where the gray waves wash the sea-wall at high-tide--yet -you know some of each one of the things that are around you. - -"Wonderful in conception is the half-conscious soul," said Annabel -Lee.---- - -I looked hard at my friend Annabel Lee. Was she teasing me? Was -she laughing at me? For she does tease me and she does laugh at -me. And was she at either of these pastimes, with all this about -a half-conscious soul? - -But here again she left me ignorant of her thought, and there is -no way of knowing. - - - - -VII - -THE YOUNG-BOOKS OF TROWBRIDGE - - -There are two writers, among them all, to whom I owe thanks for -countless hours of complete pleasure. Not the pleasure that stirs -and fires one, but the pleasure which enters into the entire -personality, and rests and satisfies a common, unstrained mind. -'Tis the same pleasure that comes with eating all by myself--eating -peaches and a fine, tiny lamb chop in the middle of the day. - -One of these two writers is J. T. Trowbridge who has written -young-books. - -Often I have thought, Life would be different, and duller colored, -and less thickly sprinkled with marigolds-and-cream, had I never -known my Trowbridge. - -Often I have thanked the happy fate that put into my hands my first -young-book of Trowbridge. 'Twas when I was fourteen--one day in -October, when I lived in a flat, windy town that was named Great -Falls, in Montana. Since that time I have never been without the -young-books of J. T. Trowbridge. There have but seven years passed -since then, but when seven years more, and seven years again, up to -threescore, have gone, I still shall spend one-half my rest-hours, -my pleasure-hours, my loosely-comfortable, unstrained hours with -the young-books of Trowbridge. - -When I go to a theater I enjoy it thoroughly. A theater is a good -thing, and the actor is a stunning person--but how eagerly and -gladly I come back into my own room where there is a faithful, -little, tan deer standing waiting, all so pathetic and sweet, upon -the desk. - -When I go out into two crowded rooms among some fascinating persons -that I have heard of before--women with fine-wrought gowns--I like -that, too, and I wouldn't have missed it--but how utterly restful -and adorable it is to come back to my own room where there is my -comfortable quiet friend in a rusty black flannel frock, sitting -waiting--and her hands so soft and good to feel. - -When I read gold treasures of literature--Vergil, it may be, or -a Browning, or Kipling--I am enchanted and enthralled. I marvel -at these people and how they can write. I think how marvelous is -writing, at last--but how gladly and thankfully, after two hours -or three, I return back to these my young-books of Trowbridge. - -They are about people living on farms, and they are written so that -you know that red-root grows among wheat-spears, and must be weeded -out, and that the farmer's boys have to milk the cows mornings -before breakfast and evenings after supper. For they have supper in -the Trowbridge books--and it is even attractive and tastes good. - -When the lads go to gather kelp to spread on the land, and are -gone for the day by the seashore, they eat roasted ears of corn, -and cold-boiled eggs, and bread-and-butter, and three bottles of -spruce beer--and if you really know the Trowbridge books you can -eat of these with them, and with a wonderful appetite. - -When a slim boy of sixteen goes to hunt for his uncle's horse that -had been stolen in the night (because the boy left the stable -door unlocked), along pleasant country roads and smiling farms in -Massachusetts--if you really know the Trowbridge books--the slim boy -of sixteen is not more anxious to find the horse than you are. When -the boy and the reader first start after the horse they are far too -wretched and anxious to eat--for the crabbed uncle told them they -needn't come back to the farm without that horse. But long before -noon they are glad enough that they have a few doubled slices of -buttered bread to eat as they go. When at last they come upon the -horse calmly feeding under a cattle-shed at a county fair twenty -miles away, they are quite hungry, and in their joy they purchase -a wedge of pie and some oyster crackers, so that they needn't be -out of sight of the horse while they eat. And the reader--if he -really knows the Trowbridge books--would fain stop here, for there -is trouble ahead of him. He would fain--but he can not. He must go -on--he must even come in crucial contact with Eli Badger's hickory -club--he must go with the boy until he sees him and the horse at -last safely back at Uncle Gray's farm, the horse placidly munching -oats in his own stall, and the boy eating supper once more with -appetite unimpaired, and the crabbed uncle once more serene. And--if -you know Trowbridge's books--you can eat, too, tranquilly. - -When a boy is left alone in the world by the death of his aunt and -starts out to find his uncle in Cincinnati--if you know Trowbridge's -books--you prepare for hardship and weariness, but still occasional -sandwiches and doughnuts (but not the greasy kind). And always you -know there must be a haven in the house of the uncle in Cincinnati. -Only--if you know the Trowbridge books--you are fearful when you -get to the uncle's door, and you would a little rather the boy -went in to meet him while you waited outside. Trowbridge's uncles -are apt to be so sour as to heart, and so bitter as to tongue, and -so sarcastic in their remarks relating to boys who come in from -the country to the city in order that they--the uncles--may have -the privilege of supporting them. Though you know--if you know -the Trowbridge books--that Trowbridge's boys never come into the -city for that purpose. The heavy-tempered uncles, too, are made -aware of this before long, and change the tenor of their remarks -accordingly--and after some just pride on the part of the nephews, -all goes well. Whereupon your feeling of satisfaction is more than -that of the boy, of the uncle, of Trowbridge himself. - -But these roasted ears of corn and cold-boiled eggs are among -the lesser delights of the young-books of Trowbridge. The most -fascinating things in them are the conversations. They are so real -that you hear the voices and see the expressions of the faces. - -Trowbridge is one of the kind that listens twice and thrice to -persons talking, so that he hears the key-note and the detail, and -his pen is of the kind that can write what he hears. It is never -too much, never too little; it is not noticeable at all, because -it is all harmony. - -It is entirely and utterly common. - -And it is real. - -In the young-books of Trowbridge, and nowhere else, I have heard -boys talking together so that I knew how their faces looked, and how -carelessly and loosely their various collars were worn, and their -dubious hats. I have heard a grasping, grouty old man pound on the -kitchen floor with his horn-headed cane--he had come over while the -family were at breakfast to inform them that their dog had killed -five of his sheep, and to demand the dog's life. I have heard the -lessons and other things they said in a country school-room sixty -years ago, where boys were sometimes obliged, for punishment, to sit -on nothing against the door. I have heard the extreme discontent -in the voice of another grouty, grasping farmer when it became -evident to him that he would be obliged to give up a horse that had -been stolen before he bought him. But here I must quote, as nearly -correctly as I can without the book: - -"'And sold him to this Mr. Badger' (said Kit) 'for seventy dollars.' - -"'Seventy gim-cracks!' exclaimed Uncle Gray, aghast. 'I should -think any fool might know he's worth more than that.' - -"He was thinking of Brunlow, but Eli applied the remark to himself. - -"'I did know it,' he growled. 'That's why I bought him. And mighty -glad I am now I didn't pay more.' - -"'Sartin!' replied Uncle Gray; 'but didn't it occur to you 't no -honest man would want to sell an honest hoss like that for any -such sum?' - -"'I didn't know it,' said Eli, groutily. 'He told a pooty straight -story. I got took in, that's all.' - -"'Took in!' repeated Uncle Gray. 'I should say, took in! I know -the rogue and I'm amazed that any man with common sense and eyes -in his head shouldn't 'a' seen through him at once.' - -"'Maybe I ain't got common sense, and maybe I ain't got eyes in my -head,' said Eli, with a dull fire in the place where eyes should -have been if he had had any. 'But I didn't expect this.' - -"Kit hastened to interpose between the two men." - -Always I have been sorry that the boy interposed just there. - -I have read the book surely seven-and-seventy times. Each time -this talk over the horse comes exceeding pungent to my ears. How -impossible it is to weary of Trowbridge, because there is no effort -in the writing, and no effort in the reading, and because of a -deep-reaching, never-failing sense of humor.---- - -How flat seem these words! - -The young-books of Trowbridge can not be set down in words. What -with the simplicity, what with the quality of naturalness, what -with a delicate tenderness for all human things, what with the -rare, rare quality of commonness that is satisfying and quieting -as the vision of a little green radish-bed, what with an inner -sympathy between Trowbridge and his characters and, above all, an -inner sympathy with his readers, what with Truth itself and the -sweet gift of portraying the sunshiny days as they are--why talk -of Trowbridge? - -Is it not all there written? - -Can one not read and rest in it? - - - - -VIII - -"GIVE ME THREE GRAINS OF CORN, MOTHER!" - - -"No," said my friend Annabel Lee, "I can't really say that I care -for Trowbridge. All that you have said is true enough, but he fails -to interest me." - -"What do you like in literature?" I asked, regarding her with -interest, for I had never heard her say. It must need be something -characteristic of herself. - -"I like strength, and I like simplicity, and I like emotion, and I -like vital things always. And I like poetry rather than prose. Just -now," said Annabel Lee, "I am thinking of an old-fashioned bit of -verse that to me is all that a poem need be. To have written it is -to have done enough in the way of writing, because it's real--like -your Trowbridge." - -"Oh, will you repeat it for me!" I said. - -"It is called, 'Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother.' It is of -a famine in Ireland a great many years ago--a lad and his mother -starving." - -And then she went on: - - "'Give me three grains of corn, mother, - Give me three grains of corn, - 'Twill keep the little life I have - Till the coming of the morn. - I am dying of hunger and cold, mother, - Dying of hunger and cold, - And half the agony of such a death - My lips have never told. - - "'It has gnawed like a wolf at my heart, mother, - A wolf that is fierce for blood, - All the livelong day and the night, beside-- - Gnawing for lack of food. - I dreamed of bread in my sleep, mother, - And the sight was heaven to see-- - I awoke with an eager, famishing lip, - But you had no bread for me. - - "'How could I look to you, mother, - How could I look to you - For bread to give to your starving boy, - When you were starving, too? - For I read the famine in your cheek - And in your eye so wild, - And I felt it in your bony hand, - As you laid it on your child. - - "'The queen has lands and gold, mother, - The queen has lands and gold, - While you are forced to your empty breast - A skeleton babe to hold-- - A babe that is dying of want, mother, - As I am dying now, - With a ghastly look in its sunken eye - And the famine upon its brow. - - "'What has poor Ireland done, mother, - What has poor Ireland done, - That the world looks on and sees us die, - Perishing one by one? - Do the men of England care not, mother, - The great men and the high, - For the suffering sons of Erin's isle,-- - Whether they live or die? - - "'There's many a brave heart here, mother, - Dying of want and cold, - While only across the channel, mother, - Are many that roll in gold. - There are great and proud men there, mother, - With wondrous wealth to view, - And the bread they fling to their dogs to-night - Would bring life to me and you. - - "'Come nearer to my side, mother, - Come nearer to my side, - And hold me fondly, as you held - My father when he died. - Quick, for I can not see you, mother, - My breath is almost gone. - Mother, dear mother, ere I die, - Give me three grains of corn!' - -"What do you think," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is it not full -of power and poetry and pathos?" - -"Yes, it could not in itself be better," I replied. "And it has -the simplicity." - -"And pretends nothing," said Annabel Lee. - -"And who wrote it?" I asked. - -"Oh, some forgotten Englishwoman," said Annabel Lee. "I believe -her name was Edwards. She perhaps wrote a poem, now and then, and -died." - -"And are the poems forgotten, also?" I inquired. - -"Yes, forgotten, except by a few. But when they remember them, they -remember them long." - -"Then which is better, to be remembered, and remembered shortly, by -the multitudes; or to be forgot by the multitudes and remembered -long by the one or two?" - -"It is incomparably better to be remembered long by the one or -two," said Annabel Lee. "To be forgotten by any one or anything -that once remembered you is sorely bitter to the heart." - - - - -IX - -RELATIVE - - -"Do you think, Annabel Lee," I said to her on a day that I felt -depressed, "that all things must really be relative, and that those -which are not now properly relative will eventually become so, -though it gives them acute anguish?" - -The face of Annabel Lee was placid, and also the sea. The one -glanced down upon me from the shelf, and the other spread away into -the distance. - -Were that face and that sea relative? Surely they could not be, -since those two things in their very nature might go ungoverned. -Do not universal laws, in extreme moments, give way? - -"Relative!" said Annabel Lee. "Nothing is relative. I tell you -nothing is relative. I am come out of Japan. In Japan, when I was -very new to everything, there was an ugly frog-eyed woman who washed -me and anointed me and dressed me in silk, the while she pinched -my little white arms cruelly, so that my little red mouth writhed -with the pain. Also the frog-eyed woman looked into my suffering -young eyes with her ugly frog-eyes so that my tiny young soul was -prodded as with brad-nails. The frog-eyed woman did these things to -hurt me--she hated me for being one of the very lovely creatures -in Japan. She was a vile, ugly wretch. - -"That was not relative. I tell you that was not relative," said -Annabel Lee. - -"If I had been an awkward, overgrown, bloodless animal and that -frog-eyed woman had pinched my little white arms--still _she_ -would have been a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If I had been a vicious spirit and that frog-eyed woman had looked -into my vicious eyes with her ugly frog-eyes--still _she_ would -have been a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If I had been a hateful little thing, instead of a gently-bred, -gently-living, pitiful-to-the-poor maiden, and that frog-eyed woman -had hated me with all her frog-heart--still _she_ would have been -a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If that frog-eyed woman had stood alone in Japan with no human -being to compare her to--still the frog-eyed woman would have been -a vile, ugly wretch. - -"She has left her horrid frog-mark on my fair soul. Not anything -beneath the worshiped sun can ever blot out the horrid frog-mark -from my fair soul. A thousand curses on the ugly, frog-eyed woman," -said Annabel Lee, tranquilly. - -"Then that, for one thing, is not relative," I said. "But perhaps -that is because of the power and the depth of your eyes and your -fair soul. Where there are no eyes and no fair souls--at least where -the eyes and the fair souls can not be considered as themselves, -but only as things without feeling for life--then are not things -relative?" - -"Nothing is relative," said Annabel Lee. "If your dog's splendid -fur coat is full of fleas and you caress your dog with your hands, -then presently you may acquire numbers of the fleas. You love the -dog, but you do not love the fleas. You forgive the fleas for the -love of the dog, though you hate them no less. So then that is not -relative. If that were relative you would love the fleas a little -for the same reason that you forgive them: for love of your dog. -Forgiveness is a negative quality and can have no bearing on your -attitude toward the fleas." - -Having said this, Annabel Lee gazed placidly over my head at the -sea. - -When her mood is thus tranquil, she talks graciously and evenly -and positively, and is beautiful to look at. - -My mind was now in much confusion upon the subject in question. But -I felt that I must know all that Annabel Lee thought about it. - -"What would you say, Annabel Lee," said I, "to a case like this: If -a soul were at variance with everything that touches it, everything -that makes life, so that it must struggle through the long nights -and long days with bitterness, is not that because the soul has -no sense of proportion, and has not made itself properly relative -to each and everything that is?--relative, so that when one hard -thing touches it, simultaneously one soft thing will touch it; or -when it mourns for dead days, simultaneously it rejoices for live -ones; or when its best-loved gives it a deep wound, simultaneously -its best enemy gives it vivid pleasure." - -"Nothing is relative," again said Annabel Lee. "Nothing can be -relative. Nothing need be relative. If a soul is wearing itself -to small shreds by struggling days and nights, that is a matter -relating peculiarly to the soul, and to nothing else, _nothing_ -else. If a soul is wearing itself to small shreds by struggling, -the more fool it. It is struggling because of things that would -never, _never_ struggle because of it. In truth, not one of them -would move itself one millionth of an inch because of so paltry a -thing as a soul." - -I looked at Annabel Lee, her hair, her hands and her eyes. As I -looked, I was reminded of the word "eternity." - -A human being is a quite wonderful thing, truly--and great--there's -none greater. - -Annabel Lee is a person who always says truth, for, for her, there -is nothing else to say. - -She has reached that marvelous point where a human being expects -nothing. - -"If the days of a life, Annabel Lee," I said, "are made bright -because of two other lives that are dear to it, and if the life -happens upon a day when the thought of the two whom it loves makes -its own heart like lead, then what can there be to smooth away its -weariness, in heaven above, in the earth beneath, or in the waters -under the earth?" - -"Foolish life," said my friend Annabel Lee. "There is no pain in -Japan like what comes of loving some one or some thing. And if the -some one or the some thing is the only thing the life can call its -own, then woe to it. The things it needs are three: a Lodging Place -in heaven above; a Bit of Hardness in the earth beneath; a Last -Resort in the waters under the earth. These three--but no life has -ever had them." - -"In the end," I said, "when all wide roadways come together, and -all heavy hearts are alert to know what will happen, then will -there not indeed be one grand adjustment, and life and all become -at once magnificently relative?" - -"Never; it can't be so. Nothing is relative," said Annabel Lee, on -a day that I felt depressed. - - - - -X - -MINNIE MADDERN FISKE - - -To-day my friend Annabel Lee and I went to the theater and we saw -a wonderful and fascinating woman with long dark-red hair upon the -stage. - -She is attractive, that red-haired woman--adorably attractive. And -she reminds one of many things. - -Annabel Lee was greatly interested in her acting, and was charmed -with herself--and so was I. - -"Do you suppose she finds life very delightful?" I said to my friend. - -"I don't suppose," my friend replied, "she is of the sort that -considers whether or not life is delightful. Probably her work is -hard enough to keep her out of mischief of any kind." - -Whereupon we both fell to thinking how fortunate are they whose -work is hard enough to keep them out of mischief of any kind. - -"But there must be," I said, "some months, perhaps in the summer, -when she doesn't work. I have heard that some actors take houses -among the mountains and do their own housework for recreation." - -"I," said Annabel Lee, "can not quite imagine this woman with the -red hair making bread and scouring pans and kettles for pleasure. -But very likely she sometimes goes into the country for vacations, -and I can fancy her doing the various small enjoyable things that -celebrities can afford to do--like wading barefooted in a narrow -brooklet, or swinging high and recklessly in a barrel-stave hammock." - -"And since she is so adorable on the stage," I exclaimed, "how -altogether enchanting she would be wading in the brooklet or swinging -in the barrel-stave hammock--she with the long, red hair! Perhaps -it would even be braided down her back in two long tails." - -It is a picture that haunts me--Mrs. Fiske in the midst of her -vacation doing the small enjoyable things. - -"Of course," said my friend Annabel Lee, "we don't _know_ that she -doesn't spend her vacations in a fine, conventional, stupid yacht, -or at some magnificent, insipid American or English country house. -We can only give her the benefit of the doubt." - -"Yes, the benefit of the doubt," I replied. - -How fascinating she was, to be sure, with her personality merged -in that of Mary Magdalene! - -The Magdalene is no longer a shadowy ideal with a somewhat buxom -body, scantily draped, with indefinite hair and with the lifeless -beauty that the old masters paint. Nor is she quite the woman of -the scriptures who is presented to one's mind without that quality -which is called local coloring, and with too much of the quality -that is ever present with the women in the scriptures--a something -between uncleanness and final complete redemption. - -No, Mary Magdalene is Mrs. Fiske, a slight woman still in the -last throes of youth, with two shoulders which move impatiently, -expressing indescribable emotions of aliveness and two lips which -perform their office--that of coloring, bewitching, torturing, -perfuming, anointing the words that come out of them. Apart from -these lips, Mary Magdalene's face has a wonderfully round and -childish look, and her two round eyes at first sight give one an -idea of positive innocence. In the Magdalene's face--and in that of -an actor of Mrs. Fiske's range--these are a beautifully delicate -incongruity. - -And my friend Annabel Lee has told me that the strongest things are -the delicate incongruities--the strongest in all this wide world. -Because they make you consider--and considering, you wait. - -With such a pair of round, innocent eyes of some grayish color--who -can blame Mary Magdalene? - -In the latter acts of the play these eyes go one step farther than -innocence: they do hunger and thirst after righteousness. And, ah, -dear heaven (you thought to yourself), how well they did it! To -hunger and thirst after righteousness--not herself, but her eyes. -That was this Mary Magdalene's art. - -This Mary Magdalene, though she is indeed in the last throes of -youth--without reference to the years she may know--has yet -beneath her chin a very charming roundness of flesh which one day -obviously will become a double chin. Just now it is enchanting. -There are feminine children of seven and eight with round faces, -who have just that fullness beneath the chin, and beneath the chin -of Mary Magdalene--and added to her eyes--it carries on the idea of -innocence and inexperience to a rare good degree. Any other woman -actor would have long since massaged this fullness away. Forsooth, -perhaps this is the one woman actor who could wear such a thing -with beauty. - -Mary Magdalene's hair in its deep redness is scornful and aggressive -in the first acts of the play. In the latter acts it assumes a -marvelous patheticness. And, if you like, there is a world of -patheticness in red hair. - -If Mary Magdalene's hair were of a different color--if the bronze -shadows were yellow, or gray, or black, or brown shadows--her lips -and her shoulders were in vain. - -On the stage Mary Magdalene stands with her back to her audience--she -stands, calm and placid, for three or four minutes before the rising -and falling curtain, graciously permitting all to admire and feast -their eyes upon the red of her hair. - -"She knows," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that she can make her face -bewitching--and she knows also that her hair is bewitching without -being so made. And she chooses that the world at large shall know -it, too." - -She has will-power, has Mary Magdalene. It is her will, her strength, -her concentration of all her power to herself that makes her thus -bewitching--and that seduces the brains of those who sit watching -her as she moves upon the stage. - -She controls all her mental and physical features with metallic -precision--except her hair, and that she leaves uncontrolled to do -its own work. It does its work well. - -She has cultivated that mobileness of her lips, probably with hard -work and infinite patience--and she makes them damp and brilliant -with rouge. She rubs the soft, thick skin of her face with layers -of grease. She loads her two white arms with limitless powder. And -the two childish eyes are exceeding heavy-laden as to lid and lash -with black crayon. One experiences a revulsion as one contemplates -them through a glass. Her voice in the days of her youth had drilled -into it the power to thrill and vibrate, and to become exquisitely -tender upon occasion, and now it does the bidding of its owner with -docility and skill. Since its owner has forcefulness and a power of -selfish concentration, the voice is mostly magnetic and cold and -strong. It is magnetic and cold and strong and contemptuous when its -owner says, "My curse upon you!" When its owner's eyes do hunger and -thirst after righteousness the voice brings a miserable, anguished -feeling to the throats of those who sit listening. Every emotion -that the voice betrays is transmitted to the seduced brains of those -who sit listening. The red-haired woman works her audience up to -some torturing pitches--the while herself blandly and cold-bloodedly -earning an honest livelihood by the sweat of her brow. - -Forsooth, it's always so. - -If all the red-haired woman's scorn and anguish were real, the -audience would sit unmoved. If the red-haired woman's scorn and -anguish were real it would strike inward--instead of outward toward -the audience--and the audience would not know. If the red-haired -woman's scorn and anguish were real, it would not seem real and would -be very uninteresting. And that very likely is the reason why the -scorn and anguish of other red-haired women--and of black-haired, and -brown-haired, and yellow-haired, and gray-haired, and pale-haired -women, who are not working on the stage--is so uninteresting and -ineffectual. It is real, and they can not act it out, and so it -doesn't seem real--and you don't have to pay money to see it done. - -To make it seem real they must need go at it cold-bloodedly, and -work it up, and charge you a round price for it. - -Mary Magdalene isn't here to do this, but Mrs. Fiske takes her -place and does it for her. - -She does it exquisitely well. - -Could Mary Magdalene herself--she of the Bible--be among those who -sit watching, she would surely marvel and admire. - -Meanwhile, for myself, I have two visions of this Mary Magdalene. - -One--in one of the acts wherein her eyes do hunger and thirst after -righteousness--when she sits before a small table and lifts her -pathetic, sweet voice with the words, "When the dawn breaks, and -the darkness shall flee away"; and then she stands and the red hair -is equally pathetic and twofold bewitching, and she says again, -"When the dawn breaks, and the darkness shall flee away." And the -other vision is of her in the country in the midst of a summer day, -under a summer sky, swinging high and recklessly in a barrel-stave -hammock. - - - - -XI - -LIKE A STONE WALL - - -My friend Annabel Lee has told me there are bitterer things in -store for me than I have known yet. - -Times I have wondered what they can be. - -"When you have come to them," said my friend Annabel Lee, "they -will be so bitter and will fit so well into your life that you will -wonder that you did not always know about them, and you will wonder -why you did not always have them." - -"The bitterest things I have known yet," I said, "have had to do -with the varying friendship of one or another whom I have loved." - -"Varying friendship?" said Annabel Lee. "But friendship does not -vary." - -"No, that is true," I rejoined. "I mean the varying deception I -have had from some whom I have loved." - -"In time," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will love more, and -your deceiving will be all at once, and bitterer. It will be a rich -experience." - -"Why rich?" I inquired. - -"Because from it," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will learn to -not see too much, to not start out with faith, in fact, to take the -goods that the gods provide and endeavor to be thankful for them. -Your other experiences have been poverty-stricken in that respect. -They leave you with rays of hope, without which you would be better -off. They are poor and bitter. What is to come will be rich and -bitterer. Their bitterness will prevent you from appreciating the -richness of them--until perhaps years have come and taken them from -immediately before your eyes. As soon as they are where you can not -see them, you can consider them and appreciate their richness." - -"Whatever they may be," I made answer, "I do not think I shall ever -be able to appreciate their richness." - -"Then you will be very ungrateful," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I looked hard at her--and she looked back at me. There are times -when my friend Annabel Lee is much like a stone wall. - -"Yes," said my friend Annabel Lee, "if you ever feel to express -proper gratitude for the good things of this life, be sure that you -express your gratitude for the right thing. Very likely you will -not have a great deal of gratitude, and you must not waste any of -it--but what you do have will be of the most excellent quality. For -it will accumulate, and the accumulation will all go to quality. And -the things for which you are to be grateful are the bitternesses -you have known. If you have had it in mind ever to give way to -bursts of gratitude for this air that comes from off the salt sea, -for that line of pearls and violets that you see just above the -horizon, for the health of your body, for the sleep that comes to -you at the close of the day, for any of those things, then get rid -of the idea at once. Those things are quite well, but they are not -really given to you. They are merely placed where any one can reach -them with little effort. The kind fates don't care whether you get -them or not. Their responsibility ends when they leave them there. -But the bitternesses they give to each person separately. They give -you yours, Mary MacLane, for your very own. Don't say _they_ never -think of you." - -"I've no intention of saying it," said I. - -"You will find," said my friend Annabel Lee--without noticing my -interruption, and with curious expressions in her voice and upon -her two red lips--"you will find that these bitternesses come from -time to time in your life, like so many milestones. They are useful -as such--for of course you like to take measurements along the -road, now and again, to see what progress you have made. Along some -parts of the road you will find your progress wonderful. If you -are appreciative and grateful, at the last milestone you have come -to thus far you will express your measure of gratitude to the kind -fates. That is, no--" said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will not -do this _at_ the milestone, but after you have passed it and have -turned a corner, and so can not see it even when you look back." - -"But why shall I express gratitude there?" I inquired in a tone -that must have been rather lifeless. - -"Why?" repeated my friend Annabel Lee. "Because you will have grown -in strength on account of these milestones; because you will have -learned to take all things tranquilly. Why, after the very last -milestone I daresay you would be able to sit with folded hands if -a house were burning up about your ears!" - -"Which must indeed be a triumph," said I. - -"A triumph?--a victory!" said my friend Annabel Lee--with still more -curious expressions. "And the victories are not what this world -sees"--which reminded me of things I used to hear in Sunday-school -ever so many years ago. "You remember the story of the Ten Virgins? -Taking the story literally," said my friend Annabel Lee, "the lot -of the five Foolish Virgins is much the more fortunate. There was -a rare measure of bitterness for them when they found themselves -without oil for their lamps at a time when oil was needed. They gained -infinitely more than they lost. As for the five Wise Virgins--well, -_I_ wouldn't have been one of them under _any_ circumstances," -said my friend Annabel Lee. "Fancy the miserable, mean, mindless, -imaginationless, selfish natures that could remain unmoved by the -simplicity of the appeal, 'Give us of your oil, for our lamps are -gone out.' It must now," said my friend Annabel Lee, "be a hundred -times bitterer for them to think of being handed down in endless -history as demons of selfishness--and they are now where they can -not, presumably, measure their bitterness by milestones of progress." - -"So then, yes," said my friend Annabel Lee--"whatever else you -may do as you go through life, remember to save up your gratitude -for the bitternesses you have known--and remember that for _you_ -the bitterest is yet to come." - -"Have _you_, Annabel Lee," I asked, "already known the bitterest -that can come--and can _you_ sit with your hands folded in the -midst of a burning house?" - -"Not I!" said my friend Annabel Lee, and laughed gayly. - -Again I looked hard at her--and she looked back at me. - -Certainly there are times when my friend Annabel Lee is like a -stone wall. - - - - -XII - -TO FALL IN LOVE - - -"I loved madly," said my friend Annabel Lee. "There came one down -out of the north country that was dark and strong and brave and -full of life's fire. All my short life had been bathed in summer. I -had dreamed my thirteen years beneath cherry-blossoms upon a high -hill. - -"But at the coming of this man from the north country I opened my -two sloe-eyes, and the world turned white--exquisite, rapturous, -divine white. - -"And afterward all was heavy gray. - -"Away from the high hill of the cherry-blossoms there lay a stretch -of red barren waste with towering rocks--and beyond that a quiet, -quiet sea that was only blue. - -"At the left of the high hill of the cherry-blossoms there was a -mountain covered with green ivy--dark green ivy that defined its -own green shape against the brilliant yellow sky behind it. Green -and yellow, green and yellow, green and yellow, said the sky and -the mountain covered with ivy. - -"The high hill of the cherry-blossoms was colored with all the -colors of Japan. - -"I lived there with people--my mother and my father and some -others--all with pale faces and sloe-eyes. - -"But some of them were very ugly. - -"Then came one down out of the north country that was dark and -strong and brave and full of life's fire. - -"He was ugly, but his face was perfect. - -"Straightway I fell in love with this one. Of all things in Japan, -what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"Where the red barren waste lay spread below me I saw manifold -softnesses, like a dove's breast, like a fawn's eyes, like melted -lilies, and the towering, gloomy rocks were the home of violet -dreams. - -"In the deep green of the ivy mountain my soul found rest at nightfall -among mystery and shadow. It wandered there in marvelous peace. -And the coolness and damp and the low muttering of the wind and -the night birds went into it with a stirring, powerful influence. -Also the voices out of the very long ago came from among the green, -dark ivy, and from the crevices of gray stones beneath it, and they -told me true things in the stillness. - -"From the deepness of the brilliant yellow sky--the yellow of -burnished brass--there came legion earth-old contradictions. -And wondrous paradox and parallel that had not been among the -cherry-blossoms appeared to me as my mind contemplated these. I -said, Am I thus in love because that I am weak, or that I am strong? -For I see here that it is both weakness and strength. And I said, -Am I myself when I do this thing? or was that I who lived among -the cherry-blossoms? I said, Who am I? What am I? - -"Below all there was the blue, broad sea. This sea gave out a white -mist that rose and spread over the earth. I knew that I was in -love, once and for all. - -"The world was white. The world was beautiful. The world was divine. - -"Life shone out of the mist unspeakable in its countless -possibilities. Voices spoke near me and infinite voices called to -me from afar--they sounded clear and faint and maddening-soft and -tender, and the soul of me answered them with deafening, joyous -silent music. - -"He from the north country that was dark and strong and brave and -full of life's fire came, some days, to the high hill of the -cherry-blossoms. He spoke often and of many things. He spoke to -people--to my mother and to my father, and to others. And rarely he -spoke to me. Rarely he looked at me. He had been in the great world. -He knew wonderful women and wonderful men. He had been touched with -all things. - -"What a human being was he! - -"And of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"When three days had gone my heart knew rapture beyond any that it -had dreamed. It knew the mysteries and the fullnesses. - -"After three days the world turned to that divine white, and was -white for seven days. - -"And afterward all was heavy gray. - -"The one from the north country returned back to the north country. - -"Of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"I was not in love with this one because he was a man, or because -he was strange and fascinating--but because he was a glorious human -being. - -"My heart was not turned to this one to marry him. Marrying and -giving in marriage are for such as are in love unconsciously. - -"To see this one from the north country--to hear his voice--that -was life and all for me--life and all. - -"But he was gone. - -"He left a silence and a weariness. - -"These came and crowded out the white from my heart, and themselves -found lodgment there. - -"And all was heavy gray. - -"The picture of life and the mystery and shadow that was revealed -to me when the world was white has never gone. It has filled me -in the days of my youth with an old terror. - -"Of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"To fall in love!"--said my friend Annabel Lee, the while her two -eyes and her two white hands, in their expression, their position, -told of a thing that is heart-breaking to see. - - - - -XIII - -WHEN I WENT TO THE BUTTE HIGH SCHOOL - - -"There was a time," I said to my friend Annabel Lee, "when I went -to the Butte High School. I think of it now with mingled feelings." - -"You were younger then," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"I was younger, and in those days I still looked upon life as -something which would one day open wide and display wondrous and -beautiful things for me. And meanwhile I went every day to the -Butte High School. I found it a very interesting place--much more -interesting than I have since found the broad world. I was sixteen -and seventeen and eighteen, and things were not brilliantly colored, -and so I made much with a vivid fancy of all that came in my path." - -"And what do you, now that you are one-and-twenty?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"I sit quietly," I replied, "and wish not, and wait not--and look -back upon the days in the Butte High School with mingled feelings." - -"Also unawares," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you still think things -relating to that which is one day to open wondrously for you. But, -never mind," she added hastily, as I was about to say something, -"tell me about the Butte High School." - -"'Twas a place," said I, "where were gathered together manifold -interesting phenomena, and where I studied Vergil, and grew fond -of it, and was good in it; and where I studied geometry, and was -fond of it, and knew less about it each day that I studied it;--and -always I studied closely the persons whom I met daily in the Butte -High School. I recall very clearly each member of the class of -ninety-nine. My memory conjures up for me some quaint and fantastic -visions against picturesque backgrounds that appeal to my sense of -delicate incongruity, especially so since viewed in this light and -from this distance." - -"What are some of them?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"There is one," said I, "of a girl whom always in my mind I called -The Shad, for that she was so bland, and so flat, and so silent,--and -she had a bad habit of asking me to write her Latin exercises, which -perhaps was not so much like a shad as like a person; and there -is one of a girl who spent the long hours of the day in writing -long, long letters to her love, but knew painfully little about the -lessons in the class-rooms; and there is one of a girl who brought -to school every day a small flask of whiskey to cheer her benighted -hours,--she was daily called back and down by the French teacher -on account of her excessively bad French, and life had looked dull -for her were it not for the flask's pungent contents; there is one -of a strange-looking, tawny-headed girl who sat across the narrow -aisle from me in the assembly-room during my last year in school, -who kept her desk neatly piled with the works (she called them -works) of Albert Ross--and after she had read them, very kindly she -would lean over and repeat the stories, with quotations verbatim, -for my benefit;--her standing in her classes was not brilliant, -but in Albert Ross she was thorough; there is one of a clever, -pretty girl who was malicious--exquisitely malicious in all her -ways and deeds, and seemingly no thought entered her head that was -not fraught with it,--she was malicious in algebra, malicious in -literature, malicious in ancient history, malicious in physical -culture, malicious in the writing of short themes--and when it so -chanced that I made a failure in a recitation, or was stupid, she -would look up at me and smile very sweetly and maliciously; and -there is one of a girl whose quaint and voluble profanity haunts me -still. And especially there is in my memory a picture of all these -on our graduating day, receiving each a fine white diploma rolled -up and neatly tied with the class colors--a picture of these and -the others,--we were fifty-nine in all. And the diplomas stated -tacitly, in heavily engrossed letters, that we had all been good -for four years and had fulfilled every requirement of the Butte -High School. So we had, doubtless--but how much some of us had done -for which in our diplomas we were not given credit! In truth, -nothing was stated in them, in engrossed lettering, about courses -in love-letters, or profanity, or malice, and Albert Ross was not -in the curriculum. - -"And the president of the school board doled out those diplomas, -with a short, set speech for each, one wet June day--but he was -not aware how insignificant they were. - -"And my mind likewise conjures up a vision of two with whom I -used to take what we called tramps, during our last year in the -High School--far down and out of Butte, on Saturdays and other -days when school was not. I remember those two and those tramps -exceeding well--nor can I think with but four years gone that the -two themselves have forgotten. One of these was an individual whose -like I have not since known. She reminded me sometimes of Cleopatra -and sometimes of Peg of Limmavaddy. She was of Irish ancestry and -had a long black mane of hair braided down behind, and two conscious -and lurid eyes of the kind that is known as Irish blue. She had -brains enough within her head, but did not study overmuch. Her -ways of going through life were often very dubious. She weighed a -great many pounds. Her experience of the world was large, and to -me she was fascinating. For herself, she was always rather afraid -of me--so much afraid, in truth, that if I said a funny thing she -must need laugh--with a forced and fictitious merriment; if I told -her she had no soul, she must need agree with me abjectly, though -she was a good Catholic; if I frowned upon her, she shivered and -was silent. Fanciful names and frocks (though this lady's frocks -were always fanciful in ways) were selected for these tramping -expeditions. This one's fanciful name was called Muddled Maud. For -no particular reason, I believe--but she wore it well. The other -member of our trio was of a less extraordinary type. She was stout -as to figure, and she knew a great deal about some things. She was -very good in history, and at home she could make pie and cake and -bread. It is true that her cake sometimes stuck, and sometimes sank -in the middle, and when she carved a fowl she could not always hit -the joints. And she was one of the kind that always pronounces -picture, "pitcher." She was also known as a very sensible girl. I -can see her now with a purple ribbon around her neck and a brown -rain-coat on coming into the High School on a wet morning. When we -went tramping she usually wore an immense gray-white, mother-hubbard -gown, belted in at the waist, and a wide flat hat, which made her -look rather like a toad-stool. Her fanciful name was Emancipated -Eva. Emancipated, in truth, she was. In the High School she was -dignified and sedate, but on our tramps she would frequently skip -like a young lamb, and frisk and gambol down there in the country. - -"She who was called Muddled Maud likewise frisked and gamboled--and -always she personified my idea of the French noun _abandon_. - -"Also I frisked and gamboled in those days far down in the country. - -"The fanciful name selected for me was Refreshment Rosanna--and I -can not tell why. But it was thought a good name for a lady tramp. -We started on these tramps at six in the morning. We would rise -from our beds at five, and at ten minutes before six I would meet -Muddled Maud at the corner of Washington and Quartz streets, below -her house. Together we would go down east Park street to the home -of Emancipated Eva. Then we walked seven miles or eight away into -the open and the wild. - -"We took things along to eat--sometimes a great many things and -sometimes a few. Times Muddled Maud would have but a curious-looking -jelly-roll, and Emancipated Eva would come laden with hard bits -of beef, and I could show but a plate of fudge. But other times -there were tarts and meat-pies and turnovers, and deviled ham and -deviled chicken and deviled veal and deviled tongue and deviled -fish of divers kinds, and some bottles of nut-brown October ale, -and sardines _a l'huile_, and green, green olives. Only the more -there was, the harder to carry. But, times, Muddled Maud would -carry much with little effort--she would adorn herself with the -luncheon--a long bit of sausage-link about her neck like a chain, -and upon her hat, held securely with bonnet-pins, fat yellow lemons, -and two bananas crossed in front like the tiny guns on a soldier's -hat, and bunches of Catawba grapes scattered here and there, and -pears hanging by their little stems behind. - -"The too early morning prevented all from being seen by the -inhabitants of Butte, and we did not venture home again until came -the friendly darkness. - -"Those were fascinating expeditions--and whose was the glory? Mine -was the glory. 'Twas I who invented them. 'Twas I who knew there was -none so fitted for a so delicate absurdity as she we called Muddled -Maud; and after her, none so fitted as the fair, the good-natured, -the Emancipated; and together with them both, I. And I led them -forth, and I led them back, and I said things should be thus and -so, and straightway they were thus and so. And we enjoyed it, and -clear air was in our lungs and life was in our veins, for we had -each but eighteen years and were full of youth. But most of all -'twas fascinating because we were three of three widely differing -manners of living and methods of reasoning. For I was not like -Emancipated Eva, nor yet like Muddled Maud; and Emancipated Eva -was not like me, nor yet like Muddled Maud; and Muddled Maud was -not like Emancipated Eva, nor yet like me. - -"To be sure, there were some things in my ordering which neither -the one nor the other found enchanting. Why should the MacLane do -all the ordering? they murmured between themselves, but they dared -not openly revolt, so all went well. - -"But now these are gone. - -"The three of us were graduated from the Butte High School with -the fifty-nine others of ninety-nine, and had each a fine white -diploma, and went our ways. - -"She who was like Cleopatra and Peg of Limmavaddy is teaching a -school, according to the last that I heard, in the north of Montana; -and she that was Emancipated Eva has long since gone to California, -and is married, and keeps a house; and for me--I am here, far off -from Butte, with you, Annabel Lee, some things having been done -meanwhile. - -"But though the two are gone, I warrant they have not forgotten. -They have not forgotten the Butte High School, nor the class of -ninety-nine, nor the tramps we went, nor their tyrant, me. - -"And I daresay they all remember their Butte High School--she of the -love-letters, she of the whiskey-flask, she the student of Albert -Ross, she of the profanity, she of the malice, The Shad,--and all the -nine-and-fifty, the young feminine persons and the young masculine -persons. Some are married, and some are flown, and some of them are -grown up and different, 'and some of them in the churchyard lie, -and some are gone to sea.' - -"But whenever I've a fancy to shut my eyes and look back, I can -see them all, a quaint company. - -"Also, whenever I've a fancy to shut my eyes and look back to life -when it was unspeakably brilliant in possibilities to look forward -to, and was marked in parti-colored checks and rings, it fetches -me to the days when I went to the Butte High School and studied -geometry and Vergil. Only I'm glad I'm not there now." - -"What for?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"It is rather pitiful and dreadful to think of having been seventeen, -and to have gone every day to the Butte High School and imagined -how wonderful-beautiful life would be some day," said I, and all -at once felt very weary. - - - - -XIV - -"AND MARY MACLANE AND ME" - - -There are times in a number of days when my friend Annabel Lee -and I enjoy a cigarette together. My friend Annabel Lee, with her -cigarette, her petite much-colored form wrapped round in clouds of -thin, exquisite gray, is more than all suggestive and inscrutable. -She leans her two elbows on something and looks out at me. - -I with my cigarette am nothing but I with my cigarette. I enjoy -it, but am not beautiful with it, nor fascinating. - -But my friend Annabel Lee is all that my imagination can take in. -Under the influence of the thin, exquisite gray she grows fanciful, -and subtly and indefinitely she meets me somewhere, and extends -me her hand for a moment. - -"Don't you know," said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, -"that old song that goes: - - 'Mary Seaton, - And Mary Beaton, - And Mary Carmichael, - And me'? - -I think it is Mary Stuart of Scotland who says that. And a fair -good song it is. But just now, for _me_, if I were Mary Stuart of -Scotland, you poor miserable little rat, I should say: - - 'Mary MacLane, - And Mary MacLane, - And Mary MacLane, - And me.' - -For aren't we two together here, calmly smoking--and doesn't the -world spin round?" - -I was enchanted. How few are the times when my friend Annabel -Lee is like this, warm and friendly and lightly contemptuous and -inclined to grotesquerie. - -'Tis so that she becomes human and someway near to me. - -"Yes, I should say Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, -and me," said my friend Annabel Lee from her gently-puffed clouds. -"There are times when you are soft and satisfying as a gray pussy-cat. -If I stroke you, you will purr. If I give you cream, you will lap -it up. And then you will curl up warmly in my lap and sleep and -purr and open and shut your little fur paws. - - 'I will sit by the fire - And give her some food, - And pussy will love me - Because I am good.' - -What literature is more literature than Mother Goose?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. "And will you love me--because I am good? Has -it occurred to you that you must love what is good and because it -is good, you poor, miserable, little rat,--and that you must hate -what is evil? Look at me, look at me!--am I good?" - -I looked at her. Certainly she was good. Just then she had a look -of angels. - -"Do you love me?" said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette. - -"Oh, yes," said I. - -"Look at me again--am I evil?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"I presume you are," I replied, for then she looked vindictive and -vicious. - -"And do you hate me?" - -"No," said I. - -"Then you are very bad and wicked yourself, you poor, miserable, -little rat," said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, "and -the world and all good people will condemn you." - -"I fear," said I, with my cigarette, "that the world and all good -people already do that." - -"Ah, do they!" said my friend Annabel Lee. "Never mind--I will take -care of you, you poor, miserable, little rat; I will make all soft -for you; I will keep out the cold; I will color the dullness; I -will fight off the mob." - -"And I," I replied, "if for that reason you do so, will thank the -world and all good people for condemning me." - -"That was neatly said," said my friend Annabel Lee. "But let me tell -you, when the world grows soft, I will grow hard--hard as nails." - -"Then let the world stay hard," I said--"hard and bitter as wormwood, -if it will, so that you come indeed thus friendly to me through -these gray clouds." - -"That, too, was very neat," said my friend Annabel Lee; "but mostly -it goes to show that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. -What literature is more literature than the proverbs? What is a -bird in the hand worth?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Two in the bush," said I. - -"Where does charity begin?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"At home," said I. - -"What does it cover?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A multitude of sins," said I. - -"What's a miss as good as?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A mile," said I. - -"What makes the mare go?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Money," said I. - -"Whom does conscience make cowards of?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Us all," said I. - -"What does a stitch in time save?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Nine," said I. - -"When are a fool and his money parted?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Soon," said I. - -"What do too many cooks spoil?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The broth," said I. - -"What's an idle brain?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The devil's workshop," said I. - -"What may a cat look at?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A king," said I. - -"What's truth stranger than?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Fiction," said I. - -"What's there many a slip betwixt?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The cup and the lip," said I. - -"How do birds of a feather flock?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Together," said I. - -"What do fools do where angels fear to tread?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"Rush in," said I. - -"What does many a mickle make?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A muckle," said I. - -"What will the pounds do if you take care of the pence?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. - -"Take care of themselves," said I. - -"What do curses do, like chickens?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Come home to roost," said I. - -"What is it that has no turning?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A long lane," said I. - -"What does an ill wind blow?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Nobody good," said I. - -"What's a merciful man merciful to?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"His beast," said I. - -"What's better to do than to break?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Bend," said I. - -"What's an ounce of prevention worth?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A pound of cure," said I. - -"What's there nothing half so sweet in life as?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"Love's young dream," said I. - -"What does absence make?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The heart grow fonder," said I. - -"How would a rose by any other name smell?" said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"As sweet," said I. - -"How did the Assyrian come down?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Like a wolf on the fold," said I. - -"What were his cohorts gleaming with?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Purple and gold," said I. - -"What was the sheen of their spears like?" said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"Stars on the sea," said I. - -"When?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee," said I. - -"All of which proves," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that I've but -to fiddle and you will dance, you poor, miserable, little rat. And -my thought is, what is it better to be than second in Rome?" - -"First in a little Iberian village," said I. - -"But I'm not sure whether it is or not," said my friend Annabel Lee. -"Some day you and I will go out into the great, broad world. Then -we shall see who will be first and who will be second. The great, -broad world is the best place of all wherein to find ourselves. -And no matter how we were situated before, we shall certainly be -situated differently in the great broad world. In the great broad -world there will be apples--apples enough for you and for me. But, -who knows? you poor miserable little rat; it may be that your lot -will be _all_ the sweet, juicy apples, whilst I shall be given the -cores. In the great broad world there will be ripe-red-raspberry -shortcake--enough for you and for me. But, who knows? you poor -miserable little rat; it may be that your lot will be all the ripe -red raspberries, whilst I shall be given the crusts. In the great -broad world there will be cigarettes--cigarettes enough for you -and for me. But, who knows? You poor miserable little rat; it may -be that your lot will be _all_ the fine Egyptian tobacco and rice -paper and clouds and clouds and clouds of pearl gray, soft pearl -gray, to wrap you round, whilst I shall go looking in empty boxes -all day long, and never a cigarette. In which case mine will be -by far the better lot in the end," said my friend Annabel Lee, -"according to the law of compensation." - -"Oh, dear!" said my friend Annabel Lee, petulantly; "why do you sit -there stupidly staring? Talk and amuse me, why don't you? Make me -feel sweet and content." - -"If I were but that myself, Annabel Lee," said I. "I can not talk -interestingly, but if you like I will ask you the proverbs and you -may answer them. That amused me much--and it gave me a wonderful -feeling of satisfaction, quite as if I were seven years old and -knew my lesson perfectly." - -"You ask and I answer?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "Very good. -But I don't know my lesson perfectly. Begin." - -"What's a bird in the hand worth?" said I. - -"A pound of cure," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does a stitch in time save?" said I. - -"Two in the bush," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Where does charity begin?" said I. - -"Betwixt the cup and the lip," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What may a cat look at?" said I. - -"The broth," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does many a mickle make?" said I. - -"A multitude of sins," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What do too many cooks spoil?" said I. - -"Us all," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Whom does conscience make cowards of?" said I. - -"Dead men and fools," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What is it that has no turning?" said I. - -"A full stomach," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What fortifies a stout heart?" said I. - -"A stitch in time," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does money make?" said I. - -"An ill wind," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What will the pounds do if you take care of the pence?" said I. - -"Come home to roost," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Where is there many a slip?" said I. - -"Where angels fear to tread," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's sharper than a serpent's tooth?" said I. - -"The pen," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's mightier than the sword?" said I. - -"A rich man," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What makes the mare go?" said I. - -"A fool and his money," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What should they do who live in glass houses?" said I. - -"Draw down the blinds," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's a man's castle?" said I. - -"The devil's workshop," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's better to do than to break?" said I. - -"Rob Peter," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's the wind tempered to?" said I. - -"The camel's back," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What do many hands make?" said I. - -"A shorn lamb," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What can't you make out of a pig's ear?" said I. - -"A gift-horse," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What should you never look in the mouth?" said I. - -"A silk purse," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's half a loaf better than?" said I. - -"Chickens before they are hatched," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"But let's not play this any more," said my friend Annabel Lee. -"I'm languid and weary. Can't you talk to me--and talk so that I -may feel rested and comfortable? And don't stare!" - -"I fear I can't amuse you. I am sorry," said I. "You may envy me, -Annabel Lee. You have not Annabel Lee to look at. Would not life -look rich and full to you if you could see before you your own -vague, purple eyes, and your red red lips, and those hands of power -and romance--you, with your scarlet gown and the gold marguerites -coming near and fading away in mist?" - -"No, not particularly," said my friend Annabel Lee. "I rather -like _your_ looks," she added, and her purple eyes became less -vague--"sitting there in your small black frock; and you puff at -that tobacco much like a toy engine. Come, you amuse me--you please -me. Come near me." - -She held out one of her hands and the purple eyes changed suddenly -into something that was rarely and indescribably friendly. - -I felt much from life. - -My friend Annabel Lee rested the hand she had held out upon my -shoulder. - -"When we go into the great, broad world, Mary MacLane," she said, -"and you have all the apples, and all the ripe-red-raspberry -shortcake, and all the cigarettes, then perhaps will you _share_ -them with me?" - -I said I would. - - - - -XV - -A STORY OF SPOON-BILLS - - -When the mood takes my friend Annabel Lee she will, if I beg her, -tell me quaint and fantastic stories, such as are hidden away in -the dusty crevices of this world. These tales have lain away there -for centuries, and spiders have spun webs over and about them, so -that when, perchance, they are brought out, bits of fine gray fiber -are to be found among the lines. - -Yesterday a pretty, plain story by my friend Annabel Lee that runs -through my mind. - -"Long ago," said my friend Annabel Lee, "there lived in Egypt a -family of well-born but poorly-bred Spoon-bills in a green marsh by -the side of the great green river Nile. This family numbered five, -and they were united and dwelling in peace. There were the father -and mother and two daughters and a son. And there had been another -son, but he was dead. And their names were Maren Spoon-bill, the -mother; and Oliver W. Spoon-bill, the father; and Lilith Spoon-bill, -the elder daughter; and Delilah Spoon-bill, the younger daughter. -And the son's name was Le Page Spoon-bill. - -"The son who had died was named Roland Spoon-bill. He was buried at -the edge of the marsh, and his name and the date were carved upon -a square, black, wooden tablet to his memory at the head of the -grave. There was also this legend upon the tablet: 'Age 15. Gone -in the hey-day of youth to his last rest. But his virtues are with -us still.' - -"And little Delilah Spoon-bill, who was an elementary, fanciful -child of nine, used to stand staring at this legend and wondering -about it. A weeping willow hung low over the grave, and Delilah -would stand near it picking gnats from its branches with her bill, -and speculating about the legend. She wondered for one thing what -'hey-day' meant. Was it anything like a birth-day? Or was it, on -the contrary, a day when everything went wrong and ended by a -person's being shut into a dark bed-room? Or was it, perhaps, a -picnic day--with tarts made of red jam? In that case Delilah felt -very sorry for her brother that he should have died on such a day, -for if there is an article of diet that spoon-bills really like it -is tarts of red jam--made the way Canadians make them. - -"But she never could decide. - -"And another thing about the epitaph that puzzled her was the -concluding clause--'but his virtues are with us still.' What could -virtues be? she asked herself. Were they anything like feathers, or -were they good to eat, or were they something she had never seen and -knew nothing about? But the letters said plainly, 'his virtues are -with us still.' Truly, if they were among the family possessions, -why had she not seen them? For anything that belonged to any of the -Spoon-bill family that was at all out of the ordinary was always -placed in an oak cabinet with glass doors that stood in a corner -of the hall in their marsh home. Delilah had often looked in this -cabinet to see if the virtues of her brother were not there. There -were dried snake skins, and curious white stones, and Spanish moss, -and devil's snuff-boxes--but no, there were no virtues. Of that -she was convinced. She appealed to her older sister. 'Lilith,' -said Delilah, 'what _are_ virtues, and where do we keep Roland's? -Don't you know, on the tombstone it says, "his virtues are with -us still."' - -"'Aren't you a silly!' said Lilith, laughing in Spoon-billish -derision. Lilith was twelve, and one knows vastly more at twelve -than at nine. 'Virtues aren't anything. And as for Roland's--that -doesn't mean that he left them with us, any more than that he took -them with him.' - -"'Then what _does_ it mean?' said Delilah. 'I've thought so much -about it.' - -"'You'll have to think some more,' said Lilith--'a good deal more, -I should say--of _your_ kind of thinking!' - -"Delilah did not often appeal to her sister in these matters. She -did not enjoy Lilith's habit of laughing. In truth, she didn't enjoy -being laughed at at all--not the least in the world. She was like -a great many other people. - -"And so was Lilith. - -"But oh, there were many things that Delilah wished to know! - -"The Spoon-bill family was, as I have said, well born but poorly -bred. Maren Spoon-bill and Oliver W. Spoon-bill both came of very -good stock, but they had been the black sheep of their families and -had forgotten the traditions and customs of their race. 'They had -left no more pride,' Maren Spoon-bill's mother once said, 'than a -sand-hill crane--no, nor a duck.' - -"'No, nor a duck,' echoed Maren Spoon-bill and her husband, and -gloried in it. - -"And the children ran wild. - -"But the children, though they ran wild, were not without ambition. -On summer evenings, when the family took tea on the back porch and -it was too warm for the children to run about much, they used to -sit and tell their ambitions. - -"'I'm going to be an actress when _I_ get big,' declared Lilith. -'I'm going to have a splendid career on the stage, and I shall earn -heaps of money. And I shall have magnificent clothes, and every one -will look at me and say, "_Isn't_ she in stunning form to-night!"' - -"And Le Page and Delilah were so overcome by the vision thus presented -of their sister that they could but stare, awed and silent. - -"And Delilah wondered how it must seem to be so very clever. - -"But Le Page, who was eleven years old himself, soon rallied. - -"'Well, then,' said he, 'when _I_ get big I'm going to be a -pirate. I'll lay over all the pirates that ever were, a-firing and -a-pillaging--and I'll wear magnificent clothes, and everyone will -look at me and say, "_Isn't_ he in stunning form to-night!"' - -"Delilah thought this latter sounded strangely like Lilith--but -perhaps in some subtle way a pirate was like an actress, and so -must need be described in the same terms. - -"'And Delilah,' said her father, 'what shall you be--what kind of -clothes are you going to wear?' - -"Delilah had before tried the experiment of relating her ambition -to the assembled family, and the result had been bad. The high -laughter of Lilith and Le Page always rose on the still evening air, -and even her father, who was a kind person, would smile. Delilah's -ambition was always the same, but she nearly always varied it a -little at each telling--and the amusement evinced by her sister -and brother varied accordingly. - -"Sometimes they even flapped their wings. - -"Which was too cruel. - -"Forsooth, children are always cruel. - -"But while Delilah's ambition was always the same, those of Lilith -and Le Page covered an exceeding wide range. Some evenings Lilith -would draw a glowing picture of herself as a lecturer of renown -with a wonderful personal magnetism and a telling style--she would -move the multitudes and draw tears from stony eyes by lifting up -her voice. Whereupon Le Page, when he had recovered his breath, -would portray himself as a celebrated scientist delving in marvelous -chemical mysteries and discovering things of untold benefit to the -race. He also would move the multitudes and draw tears from stony -eyes. - -"And Delilah would wonder what were lecturers and scientists, and -how they could do these things. - -"And when Lilith would announce her intention of becoming a famous -sculptor whose work in the passionate would be the delight of her -day, then Le Page would turn his mind to the idea of becoming a -noted explorer who would penetrate into Darkest Africa and Farthest -North, and whose work in the passionate would be the delight of -his day. - -"And Delilah would marvel still more. - -"Forsooth, children are always like that--and fascinating they are. - -"And each summer evening after Lilith and Le Page had related their -ambitions, their father would ask Delilah what was hers. Then always -Delilah would whisper; 'I'm going to study tombstones, papa! And -when I get big perhaps I shall know what every single tombstone in -the world means. And perhaps after I've studied a long time and -hard I can read Roland's right off and know what it means without -thinking. And perhaps I can explain them all to people who don't -know about them.' - -"Which to Delilah was a daring ambition indeed--quite hitching -her wagon to a star. - -"Well, then," said my friend Annabel Lee, "this was when the -Spoon-bill family was in its youngness. - -"The years followed one after another, and the three children grew. -And it came about that Lilith was three-and-twenty, and Le Page -was two-and-twenty, and Delilah was twenty. - -"They were much as they had been when they were children. Lilith, -I may say in passing, was not an actress, nor a lecturer, nor yet -a sculptor--and Le Page was merely Le Page. - -"Also Delilah was Delilah, but had ceased to be elementary in some -ways, while in others she was still, and so would be until the -finish. - -"It so happened that a young spoon-bill of masculine persuasion, -from the other side of the great green river Nile, fell in love -with Delilah. - -"Likewise Delilah fell in love with a young spoon-bill, but not -that young spoon-bill. - -"It happens frequently so. - -"And Delilah did not fancy the spoon-bill from the other side of -the river, and the spoon-bill with whom Delilah was in love did -not fancy her in just that way. - -"Which also happens frequently. - -"On a day when the river Nile was very green, and heavy -sickening-sweet flowers of dead white color hung from black trees -on the banks, and the sky was, oh, so blue, and all was summer, the -young spoon-bill from over the river would come to see Delilah. He -loved so well--so hopelessly--that young spoon-bill! But Delilah -on such a day would walk where the green water was shallow, and -her thoughts would be with the young spoon-bill who had gone to -her heart. - -"And the young spoon-bill from over the river would come and stand -a little way from Delilah under a tree with broad thick leaves. How -fine was he to look upon, with his white feathers glistening like -silver and his eyes of topaz! - -"And Delilah was most adorable with feathers of soft, soft gray--a -so soft gray that one, if one were human, would wish to rest one's -forehead upon the fluffy down of her breast. - -"Then he from over the river--his name was Gerald Spoon-bill--would -say: 'Delilah, come with me over the river to the damp meadows, -where there is a pool with a thousand pond-lilies, and fair blooms -the way. We should be happy there, you and I.' - -"But Delilah would say: 'Oh, go back over the river, Gerald -Spoon-bill! You and I never should be happy together. Why do you -stand there by the rubber-tree day after day? And why do you waste -your life-nerves and your heart-nerves? Why are you not giving your -good heart to some one who can take it?' - -"'But you would be happy with me, Delilah,' he under the dark -leaves would answer her eagerly. 'We will stand in the midst of a -new day and watch the sun come up out of the sand--we will stand -in pale shallows at midday--we will feel our hearts beat high when -the lightnings come down through branches--we will fly a little in -high winds--we will stand still and silent in the midst of golden -solitudes when the sun is going off the sand--and in all these -things my heart will be yours.' - -"'Go back over the river, Gerald Spoon-bill!' said Delilah. - -"But Gerald Spoon-bill felt that he loved so well that he could -not go back over the river. - -"'Tis not possible to go back over the river when one's best-loved -is standing by herself in green shallows. - -"Then along the bank from the direction of the date palms came -Auden Spoon-bill, he who had gone to Delilah's heart. Likewise he -was good to see--not from the handsomeness of his feathers or his -eyes, but from the strength of his physical being. Though, too, -his eyes were of amethyst. - -"Auden Spoon-bill went along parallel to the shore of the river -until he saw Delilah standing in the pale green water. Then he -crossed over and came toward her. - -"'There are lotus flowers blooming down below where the steep -cataract breaks over stones,' said he. 'Delilah, will you come with -me to eat some?' - -"'Oh, yes, I will come,' said Delilah, eagerly. - -"For she still was elementary enough to say things eagerly. - -"So they went down to where the lotus-flowers grew, where the steep -cataract broke over stones. - -"It so happened that it was almost the time when the great green -river Nile flows out over its banks and makes all wet with water -for miles around. At such a time it was the custom of Spoon-bills -and cranes and adjutant-birds and others of their ilk, and animals -of divers kinds, to leave their homes and move away out of reach of -the green and purple flood. But no one had thought of moving yet, -for it was too early in the season. Maren Spoon-bill and Oliver W. -Spoon-bill had not even begun to gather up their household goods, -nor had they, as their wont was, removed the black tablet from -the head of Roland Spoon-bill's grave, which was on the very edge -of the river. - -"The river-god is a person of whims like the rest of us. And so -that year, on the day that Delilah and Auden Spoon-bill went down -the river to eat lotus flowers, he gave vent to one of them. He -thought to send a premonition of the yearly flood in the shape of -one beautiful green and purple and white wave, one which would not -go so very far but which should be damaging in its effects. - -"'Delilah,' said Auden Spoon-bill, 'since we are here eating lotus -flowers, life is very fine, isn't it?' - -"'Oh, very fine--yes, very fine,' said Delilah, and was thrilled. - -"'You are a so dear friend,' said Auden Spoon-bill. - -"'Yes,' said Delilah, and was not thrilled. - -"'Life,' said Auden Spoon-bill, 'is pretty fine, no matter how it -is arranged.' - -"'But life is a very strange thing,' said Delilah. 'I can't begin -to tell you how strange I have found it. For one thing, I may have -what is not my heart's desire, and what is my heart's desire I may -not have.' - -"'It is strange,' admitted Auden Spoon-bill. 'But why have any -heart's desires aside from what is already yours in this fine, fair -world?' - -"'One can not rule one's heart,' cried Delilah. 'One's heart goes on -before one's mind can stop to think. One's heart rushes in before -everything. One's heart plays with brilliant-colored things when -all else is dead-color. One's heart loves----' - -"But Delilah never finished. Before their eyes rose up a magnificent -wall--a wall of water that was fire and cloud and silver, and in -it were ineffable rainbows of the purple that gathers up the soul -in its brilliance and shows it wondrous possibilities; and in it -were lines of the pale lavender that caresses the senses--and one -breathes from it almost a fragrance of heliotrope; and in it were -broad sheets of deep black and dazzling white that were of the -seeming of life and death; and in it, last of all, was a world of -infinite green: it had come from a place of great things; it had -come to a place where all went down before it, where lives exulted -but shrank from it because of its green. - -"An exquisite whim, was that of the river-god. - -"Delilah and Auden Spoon-bill gazed for a brief moment. They saw -the magnificent things. They saw death in the brilliancies, but -nevertheless their spirits rose high. They saw also a wild flight -of live things before the wave. Delilah beheld her family--Lilith -and the rest--struggling and half-covered with water, and their -home made of reeds was loosed from its foundations and borne down -the river. - -"Presently the flood overtook themselves and the life of Delilah -was merged in water. She was borne high on a dark swell, and at -the turning was suddenly struck a stunning blow upon the gray of -her breast by a square black wooden tablet. - -"Before death came to her out of the brilliancies she was conscious -of several things. She saw before her eyes for an instant with -startling plainness the words on the tablet, 'Gone in the hey-day -of youth to his last rest. But his virtues are with us still.' - -"She even fancied for the first time that she knew what it meant. - -"'The hey-day of youth,' she murmured to herself, 'is the day I -go to eat lotus flowers with my best-beloved--and virtues are two -eyes of amethyst that are with me still as I am drowning.' - -"Auden Spoon-bill was drowning together with her.-- - -"That's all of the story," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Thank you," said I. "It is lovely in its quaintness. What does it -mean, Annabel Lee?" - -"Mean?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "I didn't say it meant anything." - -"But I suppose," said I, "everything that's true means something." - -"Very likely," said my friend Annabel Lee. "But this story isn't -true. I made it up." - -Because it isn't true, or for some other reason, the story still -runs in my head. How like my friend Annabel Lee it is! - - - - -XVI - -A MEASURE OF SORROW - - -"But though you are equally as beautiful as Poe's Annabel Lee," I -said to my friend Annabel Lee--"and half the time I think you are -the same one--still when I read over the poem in my mind I find -differences." - -"You find differences," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'It was many and many a year ago, - In a kingdom by the sea, - That a maiden there lived whom you may know - By the name of Annabel Lee. - And this maiden she lived with no other thought - Than to love and be loved by me.' - -The first four lines," said I, "do very well, for it doesn't matter -how long ago you lived--and who can tell? But--I fancy you live -with other thoughts than that mentioned." - -"I fancy I do," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'I was a child, and she was a child, - In this kingdom by the sea; - And we loved with a love that was more than love, - I and my Annabel Lee-- - A love that the wingd seraphs in heaven - Coveted her and me.' - -The first line might stand," said I, "for you are only fourteen, and -I but one-and-twenty--which is quite young youth when compared to -the age of the earth. But the third and fourth lines are appalling. -And, alas, you are not my Annabel Lee. Always you make me feel, -indeed, that nothing is mine. And no, surely the winged seraphs in -heaven do not envy you and me for anything." - -"If they do," said my friend Annabel Lee, "then heaven must needs -be very poorly furnished." - -I repeated: - - "'And this was the reason that long ago, - In this kingdom by the sea, - A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling - My beautiful Annabel Lee, - So that her high-born kinsman came - And bore her away from me, - To shut her up in a sepulcher - In this kingdom by the sea.' - -I imagine, times," said I, "that a chill wind has sometime come -out of a cloud by night and gone over you. No high-born kinsman -comes to carry you away--but I shiver at the possibility. Will a -high-born kinsman come to carry you away--shall you be shut into -a gray stone sepulcher?" - -"No kinsman, high-or low-born, is coming to carry me away," said -my friend Annabel Lee. "Kinsmen do not carry away things that have -no intrinsic value." - -"No, I believe they don't," said I, and felt relieved. - -I repeated: - - "'The angels, not half so happy in heaven, - Went envying her and me, - Yes! that was the reason, (as all men know - In this kingdom by the sea,) - That the wind came out of the cloud by night, - Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.' - -But no," said I; "the angels in heaven are surely more than half -so happy as you and I." - -"More than half," said my friend Annabel Lee. "They need not send -clouds from heaven on that account." - -I repeated: - - "'But our love it was stronger by far than the love - Of those who were older than we, - Of many far wiser than we; - And neither the angels in heaven above, - Nor the demons down under the sea, - Can ever dissever my soul from the soul - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.' - -If you loved anything," said I, "'twould be stronger by far than -that of some who are older, and of very many who may be wiser." - -"I don't think wisdom and age have to do with it," said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"And the angels in heaven would count for very little in it," said -I. - -"No, certainly not the angels in heaven," said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"Nor the demons down under the sea?" I asked. - -"I don't know about _them_," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; - And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; - And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side - Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride - In her sepulcher there by the sea, - In her tomb by the sounding sea.' - -The first lines," said I, "are well-fitting. For you are like to -the moon and stars, and they are like to you. You are with them -in the shadow-way. And if you were out by the sea in a gray stone -sepulcher I should stay there near you, in the night-tide and -the day-tide. You would be there--and my heart would set in your -direction still." - -"More than it had set before," said my friend Annabel Lee. "For -everything escheats to the sea at last. Those persons," said my -friend Annabel Lee, "who have measures of sorrow which can be joined -with the sea are the most fortunate persons of all. Those measures -of sorrow will serve them well and will stand them in good stead on -days when all other things desert them. If a measure of sorrow is -joined with the sea it belongs to the sea--and the sea is always -there. - -"The sea," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is like a letter from some -one whom you have written to after a long silence, who you thought -might be dead. - -"The sea is the measure of sorrow, and the measure of sorrow is -the sea. Having once had a measure of sorrow joined with the sea, -your measure of sorrow will never be separated from the sea. - -"The measure of sorrow will sink all of its woe deep into the sea, -and the sea will be of the same color with it. For a measure of -sorrow is sufficient to color a great sea. - -"The sea will give to the measure of sorrow a bit of wild joy. -There is no joy in the world like that of the sea--for there is -enough in it to come out and touch all things in life, and life -itself. And the wild joy will stop short only of a scene of death. -If a life is joined with the sea, in spite of all the weariness, -all the anguish, all the heavy-days of unrest, and all the futile -struggling and wasting of nerves, there will yet be a wild joy in -it all, and thrill after thrill of triumph in extreme moments. - -"Those measures of sorrow that are not joined with the sea must -do for themselves. - -"And for these reasons, those persons who have measures of sorrow -that can be joined with the sea are the most fortunate persons of -all." - - - - -XVII - -A LUTE WITH NO STRINGS - - -The most astonishing thing about my friend Annabel Lee is that, -young as she is, she seems except for some thing in the past to -be absolutely in the present. She does not build up for herself -things in the future. The future is a thing she looks upon with -contempt. She has not a use for it--except perhaps to help form a -bitter sentence of words. - -The present she finds before her, and she lifts it up and places it -upon a table before her and opens it as if it were a book--a book -with but two pages. She seems to find symbols and figures and faint -suggestions upon these two pages from which she derives a multitude -of ideas and fancies and material to make bitter sentences of -words. - -It seems to interest her, and it interests me to rare degrees. - -She dwells upon the present. - -She talks of things in the present with inflections of voice that -are in sharp contrast to the sentiments she utters. The while the -expression of her face is inscrutable. Taken by and large, she is -an inscrutable person. I wonder while I listen, does she herself -believe these things?--or is she talking to amuse herself? But -perforce I feel a vein of truth in each thing that she says. I look -hard at her to discover signs of irony or insincerity--but I can -but feel a vein of rancorous truth, or a vein of friendly truth, -or a vein of ancient truth, or curious. - -Then, as she is talking and in the same moment I am wondering, I -consider: What matters it whether or not any of it is true, or -whether or not she believes it, or whether or not I can understand -it--since _she_ is saying it. Is she not an exquisite person telling -me these things in her exquisite voice? - -She carries all before her in the world. - -For she and I make up a small world. - -If she be not brilliant in her talking, then that is because that -set of sentences would be ruined by brilliancy. - -If she be not profound in her discoursing, then that is because -her fancy at the time dwells in the light fantastic and would be -ruined by profoundness. - -If she be not logical, that is because she is exquisite, which is -quite beyond logic. - -Nevertheless, when she says what is simple and plain and stupid the -look of her face is more than all the look of one saying brilliant -things. - -And when she touches lightly upon one thin fancy and another the -look of her lily face is above all things profound. - -And when her mood and its expression are most reckless of logic -the look of her face is the model of one giving out platitudes in -all open candor and reasonableness. - -I have been led by these looks of her face to see some varying -visions of my friend Annabel Lee. - -One is a vision of her as a capable, elderly maiden aunt, one who -stands ready in sickness and in health to do for me, and cooks -little meat pies for me, and tells me when I'm spending too much -money, and what to do for a cold. - -One is a vision of her as a playful child-companion who is with me -in all my summer days, and shares all her quaint thoughts with me, -and asks me countless questions and accepts my dictum as gospel. - -One is a vision of her as a sister--one of that kind who has the -best of all things in life whilst I must take the poor things; one -of the kind that is to be married to a count from over the seas, and -I must work and hurry to get her frocks ready for the wedding--and -then go back to live in a small, dead village all the days of my -life. - -One is a vision of her as the quiet martyr-sister who comes at my -call and retires at my bidding--and in this part my friend Annabel -Lee walks with exceeding beauty. - -One is a vision of her as a strong elderly friend who stands between -me and all icy blasts, who lays out my daily life, who quiets my -foolish excitement with her calmness and wisdom. - -One is a vision of her as one who knows no law, who leads me in -strange highways and byways, and whose mind for me is a labyrinth -wherein I walk in piteous confusion. - -One is a vision of her as an extremely wicked person whom I regard -with fear, whom it behooves me to hate, but whom I love. - -One is a vision of her as a woman of any age who is, above all, -uncompromising and unsympathetic. If I am joyous, she is placid; if -I am heavy of heart, she is placid; if I am full of anticipation, -she is placid; if I am in despair, she is placid. - -One is a vision of her as a shadow among shadows. She is not real, I -say to myself. One day I shall awake and find her vanished--without -pain and without "sadness of farewell," and as if she had not been. - -One is a vision of her as one who is in the world and of the world, -and like the rest of the world. And when I contemplate her thus -my thought is, the best thing of all is to be in the world and of -the world, and like the rest of the world,--to have the quality -of humanness, to know the world so well as to be able to select -the best of its treasures, and to make useful that in it which is -useless. - -But all these visions are vapory. There is not one of them that is -my friend Annabel Lee. 'Tis the expressions of her lily face that -give me these visions--not that which she says nor that which she -does. In truth she is, in some way, like all the visions, but each -is mingled so much with herself that the type is lost. - -And my friend Annabel Lee, though she sits with the book of the -two pages open before her and seems much interested in all that -she finds in it, has yet the look of one who, if any one asked to -borrow the book from her, would close it quickly and give it up -readily with no regret. And after she had given away the book, it -seems as if she would pick up a flower from somewhere near, and -twirl the stem in her thumb and finger, and glance out the window. - -Not that she has a contempt for the present as for the future, but -that it seems she is not dependent on the book of the two pages -for her thought of it. - -But also there is method in her contempt for the future. For she -deigns to consider that the future becomes the present, as one day -follows after another. But she touches it not in good faith until -it is indeed the present. - -My friend Annabel Lee, times, sits playing upon a little, old lute. - -"The future," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is like a lute with no -strings. You cannot play upon such a lute and fill the long, long -corridors in your brain with the thin, sweet, meaningless music. -You can but sit stupidly staring into the cavity and thinking how -joyous will be the music that shall come forth some day, as from -time to time your lute is strung with strings--whereas you might -better at that moment go out into your garden and fill the cavity -with tomatoes and make haste with them to market. And while you sit -dreaming over your stringless lute, in your impatience you press -upon the stops and press too much and too often, so that when at -last your lute is strung the stops will not work right, but will -stick fast in one position. And when your other hand touches the -strings there will be horrible discord--always horrible discord. - -"I have never," said my friend Annabel Lee, "yet seen any one -dreaming over an unstrung lute who did not finger the stops." - -Having said this, my friend Annabel Lee gazed out over my head at -the flat, green Atlantic sea, and her hand went upon and about her -lute-strings, and there came out music. And the stops worked right, -like stops that had not been tampered with in the lute's unstrung -days. - -And the music that came out was like yellow wine to the head, and -went not only into the corridors but into the towers as well, and -low down by the moat and within and without the outer wall, and -into the dungeon where had not been music before. - - - - -XVIII - -ANOTHER VISION OF MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -And I have a vision of my friend Annabel Lee as a princess in a -tall, tall castle by the side of the sea--a castle made of dull red -granite that glows a gorgeous crimson in the light of the setting -sun. - -And all day long there is no sign of life about the dull red castle, -and also the winds are low and the blue water is very quiet. Far -down the shore are only a few gulls flying, and wild ducks riding -on the waves. - -There is nothing moving on the jagged rocks for miles about the red -castle, but there are growing in crevices some wild green weeds that -are full of fair sweet life. And all day the sky is pale blue. - -The windows in the red castle are of thick, dark glass and are grated -and mullioned and set about with iron. The look of these windows -is rigid and bitter and it shuts out everything that is without. - -The battlements of the castle are high and narrow and fearsome-looking -and dark and very sullen. Were I upon the battlements I would gladly -plunge off from them down upon the rocks, some hundreds of feet, -and be dashed to pieces--or into the deep sea. But below there is -a turret and a belfry, but no bell, and the turret is a sheltered -and safe retreat looking out upon all. One who had not been content -before in the world might be at last content within the turret of -this tall, red castle by the side of the sea. - -Away at the meeting of the sea and the sky there is a narrow line -that is not pale blue like the sky nor dark blue like the sea, but -is only pale thin air. And I look at it expecting to see--But in -the bright daylight I never know what I expect to see in the line -of thin air at the meeting of the pale and the dark. - -And so then all day everything is dead quiet, and my friend Annabel -Lee is a princess inside the red castle. - -How fair a princess is my friend Annabel Lee! - -I fancy her in a beautiful white gown embroidered with gold threads. -The gown is long and narrow and fits closely about the waist, and -trails on the ground. And upon the left forefinger of the princess -a great old silver ring set with an unpolished turquoise. - -The rooms inside the red castle are fit rooms for such a princess. -They are dark and high and narrow, and are adorned with frescoes -and wall-paintings, and the thick windows of dark glass shine with -marvelous, myriad coloring where the light shows through. Before -some of the windows bits of cut glass are hung, and these catch -the sunbeams and straightway countless rainbows fall upon the gown -and the hands and the hair of the princess. - -When the sun sets a great bar of deep golden light falls from afar -upon the red castle, and it becomes magnificent with crimson. The -dark glass of the windows glows like old copper. The battlements -are tipped with gold, and all is like a great flower that has but -just bloomed. - -After the sun has set and the crimson has faded once more from the -red castle, and the copper from the windows, and before the light -of day has gone, the sea and the sky take on different shades and -different meanings, and the gulls and the wild ducks come up from -far down the shore, and the rocks echo with their wild noises. The -sky is full of flying cloud-racks and the water rises high and -has crests of white foam. - -But the line at the horizon looks still the same. - -Then the princess in her white gown opens a door high up in the -tall castle and comes out under the turret. She comes forward to -the railing and leans upon it with her fair chin resting in her -hand. - -I see her there across a long stretch of dark water, her white frock -gleaming in the pale light--so high up and all--and a multitude of -thoughts come upon me. - -The princess looks at the thin line of sky opposite her, and looks -so steadfastly that I turn my eyes from her and look there also. - -And now there are manifold scenes there. - -There is a scene of a knight going forth to do battle, with his -black charger and his shining steel armor. And he wears an orange -plume in his helmet. His going is a brave thing. He is in the rising -of his youth and strength. And for this reason I--and the princess -on the turret--can see him falling gloriously in a fierce battle, -with death in his veins, and the charger wandering off with no rider -into the night. And the princess looks with envy upon one who can -go forth and fall in battle. - -There is a scene of a young woman in a small room working hard and -persistently by a dim light at some exquisitely fine needlework upon -an immense linen oblong. And her shoulders are bent and her eyes -are strained and her hands are weary and her nerves shattered and -crying out. But she does not leave off her work. She and her work -are like an ant carrying away a desert grain by grain, and like one -miserable person building up a pyramid, and like one counting all -the stars. One does not know whose is the linen or why she works, -or whether money will be given her for it. But one may know that -verily she will have her reward. Such people working like that in -small rooms, and all, with wearied nerves, always have their reward. -And the princess on the turret looked out at the woman as if she -with her linen and her needle were the fortunate one. - -There is a scene of French Canadians cutting hay and raking it early -in the summer afternoon--women and men. The day is so beautifully -hot and the perfume of the grass is so sweet that a tall red castle -by the side of the sea is the dreariest place of all. The princess -looks out from her turret with desolate purple eyes. She looks at -the ring upon her forefinger--and together with her I wonder why -all people were not made French Canadians making hay in the fields. -Over their heads is the air of the green French Canadian country; -under their feet is the soft French Canadian hay. And they have -appetites for their food. - -There is a scene of a child playing in the mud under a green willow. -She has a large pewter spoon to dip up great lumps of mud, and she -takes up the lumps in her two hands and pats them and shapes them -and lays them down in rows on a shingle. Water runs down through -the meadow near by where she sits and she dips it up also in the -spoon to thin out the mud. The rows of mud-cakes on the shingle are -very neat and arranged with infinite care. The princess forgets -to envy the child and her mud-cakes in the interest she takes in -the making of them. Her face and her purple eyes even take on an -indefinite look of contentment in that she is in the same world -with so fit a thing. - -Having looked long at the visions the princess takes her eyes from -the line of thin sky and looks down into the tumbled dark water. - -When all is seen, says the princess, there is nothing better than -wild, dark water that is too vast to be measured and that is good -for a thousand of years, and that contains yet as good fish as ever -came out of it. It gives up pink shells upon the sand in the kindness -of its heart, and it sends wild whistling gales up to the pinnacles -of my red castle to sing for me and to tell me many stories. And -it has wild winds wandering in and upon the high walls and caves -along its rugged coast--and if I knew not that they were winds I -would surely think them the voices of sea-maids singing--high, thin, -piercing voices mingled with the sound of long, washing waves. And -it gives out dreary lonesome cries--a loon calling in the night -mists a mile away, and wild geese honking--so that I know there -are things in it and upon it a hundred times wilder and lonesomer -than I. And it sends good ships driving against these great rocks, -and dashes them to pieces, and human beings go down with them to -rest for a thousand of years in the depths, so that I know it loves -human beings well, and has need of them. In the forenoon of a day -in July it melts my heart with its glad, warm sunshine and dazzles -my eyes and fills me with comfort--and I know that life is a safe -thing. When all is seen, says the princess, there is nothing better. - -Thus I have a vision of my friend Annabel Lee as a princess in a -tall, red castle by the side of the sea. - -But neither is this my friend Annabel Lee. For she is more fascinating -still, and her castle is even taller, and a deeper red--and more -than all she is herself. - - - - -XIX - -THE ART OF CONTEMPLATION - - -Yesterday my friend Annabel Lee and I sat comfortably opposite each -other at a small table, eating our luncheon. She was very fair -and good-natured--and we had tiny broiled fish, and some tea with -slices of lemon in it, and bread, and green lettuce sprinkled over -with vinegar and oil and red pepper, and two mugs of ale. - -"Food is a lovely thing, don't you think?" said I. - -"One of the best ever invented," said my friend Annabel Lee. "Have -you considered how _much_ would be gone from life if there were no -food, and if we had not to eat three times every day?" - -"Yes, I've considered it," I replied, "and it's a pleasure that -never palls." - -"It is so much more than pleasure," said my friend Annabel Lee. "It -is a necessity and an art and a relaxation and an unburdening--and, -dear me, it brings one up to the level of kings or of the beasts -that perish. - -"I have fancied," said my friend Annabel Lee, "a deal table set -three times every day under a beautiful yew-tree in a far country. -The yew-tree would be in a pasture where cattle are grazing, and -always when I sat eating at the deal table the cows would stand -about watching me. Sometimes on the deal table there would be brown -bread and honey; sometimes there would be salt and cantaloupe; -sometimes there would be lettuce with vinegar and pepper and oil; -sometimes there would be whole-wheat bread and curds and cream in -a brown earthen dish; sometimes there would be walnuts and figs; -sometimes there would be two little broiled fish; sometimes there -would be peaches; sometimes there would be flat white biscuits and -squares of brown fudge; sometimes there would be bread and cheese; -sometimes there would be olives and Scotch bannocks; sometimes -there would be a blue delft pot of chocolate and an egg; sometimes -there would be tea and scones; sometimes there would be plum-cake; -sometimes there would be bread and radishes; sometimes there would -be wine and olives; sometimes there would be a strawberry tart. - -"I should live over the hill from the yew-tree, and I should come -there to eat at seven o'clock in the morning, and at one in the -afternoon, and at seven in the evening. And meanwhile I should be -busy at some work so that my eating would be as if I had earned -it." - -"What sort of work would you do?" I asked. - -"I might wash fine bits of lace," said my friend Annabel Lee, "and -lay them out upon a sunny grass-plot to bleach and dry. Or I might -pick berries and take them to market. Or I might sit in a doorway -making baskets--I should make beautiful little baskets. Or I might -care for a small garden, or a flock of geese--to feed them with -grains and keep them from straying away. 'So many hours must I tend -my flock, so many hours must I sport myself, so many hours must I -contemplate'--I should do all these things while tending my flock, -and I should tend my flock well. I should do all my work well, so -that the food on the deal table, under the yew-tree, would taste -as if it had been earned. - -"But would it not be strange," said my friend Annabel Lee, eating -daintily of lettuce and fish, "after I had had this way of living -in a country of always-summer for six months or seven months--oh, I -should grow vastly weary of it! And not only should I grow weary of -the garden or the geese or the baskets, and the deal table under the -yew-tree, but I should grow weary of everything the fair green world -could anyway offer. In the so many hours that I should contemplate -I should arrive at this: there can be nothing better in the way of -living than caring for a garden or a flock of geese, and going up -a hill to a yew-tree to eat three times every day--_nothing_, if -I do my work faithfully. So then when the gray dawn should break -some morning and I should awaken and find an aching at my heart, -I should know that the best had failed me, and I should see the -Vast Weariness with me. 'Hast thou found me out, oh, mine enemy!' -would run over and over in my mind. And all that day the tending -of the flocks would be a hard thing, and the apples on the deal -table under the yew-tree would turn to dust in my mouth." - -My friend Annabel Lee laid down her small silver fork, and placed -her hands one upon another on her knee, and sat silent. - -Oh, she was a beautiful, brilliant person sitting there! I wondered -hazily as I watched her how much of the day's gold sunshine she -made up for me, and how much would vanish were she to vanish. - -Presently she talked again. - -"Much depends," said my friend Annabel Lee, "upon the amount of -contemplation that one does in one's way of living, and upon how -one's contemplation runs. Contemplation is a thing that does a -great deal of mischief. But I daresay that when it as an art is -made perfect it is a rare good thing and a neat, obedient servant, -and knows exactly when to enter the mind and when to leave it. And -whosoever may have it, thus brought to a state of perfection, is a -most fortunate possessor and must need go bravely down the world. - -"Perhaps, now," said my friend Annabel Lee, "when one is a goose-girl -and goes to eat at a deal table under a green yew-tree, one should -contemplate only kings in gilded palaces. One should begin at -the beginning of a king's life, it may be, and follow it step by -step through heaviness and strife until one sees, in one's vivid -goose-girl fancy, the king at last tottering and white-haired and -forsaken toward his lonely grave. - -"Or else one should contemplate the life of a laborer who must eat -husks all his days, and is not worthy of his hire, and goes from -bad to worse and becomes a beggar. - -"Or else one should contemplate the being of a sweet maid whose -life is a fair, round, rose garden, and the thorns safely hidden -and the stems pruned, and all. And one should likewise follow her -step by step to her grave, or, if one so fancies, to the culmination -of all happiness and success. - -"For the idea is that in all one's contemplation, when one is a -goose-girl, one should contemplate anything and everything except -the being and condition of a goose-girl. - -"But a better idea still," said my friend Annabel Lee, "would be to -not contemplate at all, you know, but eat the radishes and other -things, under the yew-tree, and rejoice. - -"At any rate," said my friend Annabel Lee, "we need not contemplate -_now_--what with these two little fishes and these green, crisp -leaves." - -She picked up her small silver fork again and went to eating -lettuce. - -And presently we both lifted our mugs of good ale and drank to that -which would be a better idea still. - - - - -XX - -CONCERNING LITTLE WILLY KAATENSTEIN - - -I had one day given my friend Annabel Lee the bare outline of the -facts in a case, and I asked her if she would kindly make a story -from it and tell it me. - -So my friend Annabel Lee told me a little story that also runs in -my mind, someway, in measure and rhythm. - -"There lived in a town in Montana," said my friend Annabel Lee, -"not very long ago, in a quiet street, a family of that sort of -persons which is called Jewish. And it is so short a time ago that -they are there yet. - -"Their name was Kaatenstein. - -"There was Mrs. Kaatenstein and Mr. Kaatenstein and the four -young children, Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny -Kaatenstein and little Willy Kaatenstein. - -"And there was the hired girl whose name was Emma. - -"And there was Uncle Will, Mrs. Kaatenstein's brother, who lived -with them. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein was short and dark and sometimes quite cross, and -she always put up fruit in its season, with the help of the hired -girl, and the kitchen was then very warm. - -"And Mr. Kaatenstein was also dark, but was a tall, slim man, and -was kind and fond of the children, especially the two little girls. -Mrs. Kaatenstein was fond of the children also, but mostly fond of -the two boys. - -"And Harry Kaatenstein was much like his mother, only he was not -so dark, and he was ten years old. - -"And Leah Kaatenstein was ten years old also--the two were twins--and -she had an eye for strict economy, and wore plain gingham frocks, -and had a long dark braid of hair, and played with very homely -dolls. - -"And Jenny Kaatenstein was seven years old and was most uncommonly -fat, and was rarely seen without a bit of unleavened bread in her -hand--for the children were allowed to have all that they wanted of -unleavened bread. They did not want very much of it, except Jenny. -And they all preferred to eat leavened bread spread with butter -and sprinkled with sugar--but they couldn't have as much as they -wanted of that. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein was only four and pronounced all his -words correctly and seemed sometimes possessed of the wisdom of -the serpent. He had very curly hair, and it seemed an unwritten -law that whenever a grown-up lady passed by and saw the children -playing on the walk in front of their house she must stop and -exclaim what a pretty boy little Willy was and ask him for one of -his curls. Whereat little Willy would stare up into the grown-up -lady's face in a most disconcerting fashion and perhaps ask her -for one of _her_ curls. Or if the groceryman or the butcher would -stop on his way to the kitchen and ask little Willy what was his -name and how old was he, little Willy would answer with surprising -promptness, and directly would ask the groceryman or the butcher -what was _his_ name and how old was _he_. - -"And Emma, the hired girl, was raw-boned and big-fisted and -frightfully cold-blooded and unsympathetic. And she had a sister -who came to see her and sat in the hot kitchen talking, while Emma -pared potatoes or scrubbed the floor. The sister's name was Juley, -and she sometimes brought strange, green candy to the children, -which their mother never allowed them to eat. And sometimes Juley -brought them chewing-gum, which they were not allowed to chew. - -"And Uncle Will was a short, stout man, with a face that was nearly -always flushed. He seemed fond of beer. There were a great many -cases of beer in the cellar which belonged to Uncle Will. And there -were cases full of beer-bottles that had all been emptied, and the -children would have liked to sell the bottles, but they were not -allowed to sell bottles. Uncle Will was also fond of little Willy, -and on summer evenings when he and Mr. Kaatenstein were at home, -and after they had eaten dinner, Uncle Will might have been heard -inviting little Willy, in his hoarse, facetious voice, to come and -have a glass of beer with him. And when little Willy, with his short -curls and his small white suit, would come and just taste of the -beer and would make a wry mouth and shed a few abortive tears over -its bitterness, Uncle Will would laugh very heartily and jovially -indeed. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein had a great many ducks and geese in the back-yard -and spent much time among them, fattening them to eat and fussing -over them, in the forenoons. So the children never played there in -the forenoon. - -"There were a great number of things that the Kaatenstein children -were not allowed to do--the things they were allowed to do were -as nothing by comparison, and the things they were allowed to do -were, for the most part, things they did not care about. - -"They had each a square iron bank in which were ever so many silver -quarters and dimes and half-dollars and nickels and gold pieces, too, -for they were a Jewish family. Their father and their Uncle Will -kept dropping coins into the little slits in the tops of the banks -from time to time, and friends of the family would also kindly -contribute, and their uncles and aunts would send money for that -purpose all the way from Cincinnati. So there was wealth in these -banks, but the children were not allowed to have any of it. And -they were never given any money 'to throw away buying things,' as -their mother said, except a nickel once in a long while--one nickel -for the four of them. - -"And there were toys that their father and mother and Uncle Will -had bought for them, and others that were sent by the uncles and -aunts in Cincinnati, but they were never allowed to play with them. -The toys were kept in a large black-walnut bureau in their mother's -bed-room. There was a small, tinkling piano that Leah Kaatenstein's -Aunt Barbara had sent to her, or that had been sent to her parents -in trust for her. And there was a little engine, that would run on -a track, which had once been given to Harry Kaatenstein. And there -was an immense wax doll which had fallen to Jenny Kaatenstein's -lot. And little Willy Kaatenstein was the reputed owner of a small -mechanical circus with tiny wooden acrobats and horses and a musical -box beneath the platform. And there were other toys of all kinds; -for the relatives in Cincinnati had been lavish. But the children -were not allowed to make use of them, so they languished in the -black-walnut bureau. - -"And Harry Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that his mother had -given him, but he was not allowed to wear it or even look at it. -It was kept in a jewel-case in her bed-room. - -"And Leah Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that her grandmother -in Cincinnati had sent, but she was not allowed to wear it or even -look at it. It was kept in her mother's jewel-case. - -"And Jenny Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that her aunt Rebecca -had sent, but she was not allowed to wear it or even look at it. -It was kept in her mother's jewel-case. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that Uncle Will -had bought for him--and Uncle Will, who was a privileged character -in the house, would sometimes take little Willy's watch from -Mrs. Kaatenstein's jewel-case and give it to little Willy to wear -in the evening when the family was gathered in the dining-room. -And Uncle Will would drink his beer and ask little Willy what time -was it. But before Mrs. Kaatenstein put little Willy to bed she -replaced the watch carefully in the jewel-case. - -"The children had a great many such possessions, but what they really -had to play with was a small, much-battered wagon which they put to -many uses in the course of a day. Sometimes it was a fire-engine, -and sometimes a hose-cart, and sometimes a motor-car, and sometimes -a carriage, and sometimes an ambulance, and sometimes a go-cart for -Leah Kaatenstein's homely dolls (which by some strange chance were -hers to do with as she would--they were not of excessive value), and -sometimes for a patrol wagon, and sometimes for a water-cart. They -had also a little rocking chair with which they played house on the -porch. Both the chair and the wagon were much overworked and were -most pathetic in appearance. The children often grew weary of playing -always with these two things and languished for other amusement. -Sometimes Leah Kaatenstein subsided into the rocking chair with -her homely dolls in her lap and talked to them seriously, telling -them many things which would be of use to them all their lives and -instilling into them strict rules of economy. And sometimes Harry -Kaatenstein sat on the lowest step of the porch with the nozzle of -the long, rubber hose, which was attached to the faucet at the side -of the house, and with which Mr. Kaatenstein or Uncle Will watered -the grass in the evening. The children were not allowed to water -the grass, but there was usually water enough trickling from the -hose for Harry Kaatenstein to make little whirlpools on the steps, -which he did, causing loss of life among bugs of divers kinds. And -sometimes Jenny Kaatenstein, with her inevitable bit of unleavened -bread, sat on the top step, moon-faced and pudgy, resting from her -labors. And sometimes little Willy Kaatenstein climbed up and sat -upon the post at the bottom of the stoop and kicked it viciously -with his heels. He often sat there kicking, as could be plainly -seen by the dents in the post. - -"One warm day the Kaatenstein children were thus languishing -after having played hard with the wagon, and Emma was ironing -in the kitchen. Their mother was away for the afternoon and the -children had a delightful sense of freedom, even with the grim, -big-fisted Emma in charge. Only they wished they had a nickel. Harry -Kaatenstein said that if they had a nickel he should certainly go -down to Grove's, a block and a half away, and purchase some brown -and white cookies. At which little Willy Kaatenstein and Jenny -Kaatenstein--more especially Jenny Kaatenstein--smacked their lips, -and Leah Kaatenstein sighed and remarked that Harry's extravagance -was very discouraging. - -"Presently, wonderful to relate, Emma appeared around the corner, -from the kitchen, with four thick slices of bread-and-butter slightly -sprinkled with sugar, and the children gazed very eagerly in her -direction. Jenny Kaatenstein dropped her piece of unleavened bread -and half-started to meet Emma, but thought better of it, knowing -Emma's ways. Emma distributed the slices of bread, and fastened -little Willy Kaatenstein's hat on more firmly with the elastic -under his chin, and informed the children that if they knew what -was good for themselves they would not get into any mischief while -_she_ had charge of them. Then she went back to her ironing. - -"The children were delighted with their bread-and-butter, and their -imagination played lightly about it. - -"'My bread-and-butter's raspberry ice-cream,' said Harry Kaatenstein. - -"'_My_ bread-and-butter's _choc'late_ ice-cream,' said Leah -Kaatenstein, waxing genial. - -"'_My_ bread-and-butter's _vanilla_ ice-cream,' said Jenny Kaatenstein. - -"But little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, for his -bread-and-butter seemed very good to him _as_ bread-and-butter. - -"Their bread-and-butter someway put new life into them and made -them more fully awake to the fact that their mother was away for -the afternoon. After all, they were not afraid of any one but their -mother, and she being gone, should they not enjoy life for once? - -"When they had finished eating they had a brilliant idea. - -"'I'm going to shake a nickel out of my bank,' said Harry Kaatenstein. - -"'_I'm_ going to shake a nickel out of _my_ bank,' said Leah -Kaatenstein, in surprising luxury of spirit. - -"'_I'm_ going to shake a nickel out of _my_ bank,' said Jenny -Kaatenstein. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, but ran at the -first inkling of the idea immediately to the dining-room where the -four banks were standing, on the mantel above the fire-place, and -pushed up a chair and took down his own green bank. And then he -slid back the little piece of iron that was just under the slot -in the top of the bank, and shook, shook, shook, with very little -noise, and lo, not a nickel but a five-dollar gold coin rolled out -on the floor! - -"And then Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -rushed in and seized their banks and began shaking, shaking with -much _clank_, _clank_ of silver and gold against iron--for was not -their mother far from them?--whilst little Willy Kaatenstein stood -by with his gold piece clasped tight in his hand. Even his young -intelligence knew its marvelous value, and he thought it wise not -to reveal his treasure to Leah Kaatenstein's horrified gaze. - -"'I'm going down to Grove's and buy gum-drops with my nickel,' said -Harry Kaatenstein, pounding and shaking, but never a nickel appeared -for the reason that he had forgotten the little iron slide, which -only once in a while fell away from under the slot and never at -the right time. - -"'_I'm_ going down to Grove's and buy a long licorice pipe with -_my_ nickel,' said Leah Kaatenstein--a long licorice pipe was the -very most she could get for her money--also shaking and pounding -fruitlessly, for she too had forgotten the little iron slide. - -"'_I'm_ going down to Grove's and buy some cookies with _my_ -nickel,' said Jenny Kaatenstein, likewise pounding and shaking -and forgetting the little iron slide. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, but when he had -learned what to buy with his money he ran out of the front door -and down the street to Grove's on the corner. - -"Now when Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -considered and rejoiced over the absence of their mother, they forgot -at the same time to consider and fear the perilous nearness of Emma -ironing in the kitchen--the kitchen being next to the dining-room. - -"Suddenly while they were in the midst of their work and were shaking -and pounding away for dear life, unconscious of all else, the door -leading into the kitchen was pushed open with ominous quiet and -the head of Emma appeared. It was an unprepossessing head at all -times, and it was a dangerous-looking head at that moment. - -"Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -perceived this vision at once, and an appalling silence like the -tomb followed the clamor that had been. - -"'So this is what you're up to, you young limbs!' said Emma, and -swooped down and pounced upon them before they could possibly escape, -though they had made for the door with very creditable speed. Emma -held them with one hand while she picked up the banks with the -other. She remarked, in unmeasured terms, upon the condition of -the waxed dining-room floor, upon the vicious qualities of some -children whom she mentioned by name, upon what would happen to them -when their mother came home, and upon what was going to happen to -them right away. - -"And she led them upstairs to their mother's bed-room and, after -shaking them well, locked them in and went downstairs, carrying -the key with her. - -"Meanwhile little Willy Kaatenstein had gone upon his interesting -errand at Grove's on the corner. - -"He went into the shop and stood before a glittering glass case of -things. - -"'And what'll it be for Master Kaatenstein to-day?' said the man -behind the glittering case. - -"'I want gum-drops and licorice pipes and cookies--and some -watermelons,' said little Willy Kaatenstein and laid the shining -gold coin before the grocer's astonished eyes, for the grocer had -expected to see the Kaatenstein semi-occasional nickel--nothing -more or less. - -"'Is this yours, Master Kaatenstein?' said the grocer, eyeing the -coin with suspicion. - -"'Of course it's mine,' said little Willy Kaatenstein, impatiently. -'And I want the things right away.' - -"'Well, I suppose it's all right, my boy,' said the grocer. 'If it -isn't, _one_ of us'll have to suffer, I guess. Now, what did you -say you wanted?' - -"Little Willy Kaatenstein repeated his order, and added other items. - -"'Now, Master Kaatenstein,' said the grocer, 'you never will be -able to carry all that. That'll make a pile of stuff. Better run -back and get your little wagon'--for he knew the Kaatenstein wagon, -having often placed in it a paper of sugar or a sack of salt or -three tins of something according to Mrs. Kaatenstein's order--for -the children to draw home. - -"So little Willy Kaatenstein ran back and got the little wagon from -the front yard, and the man loaded the things into it. 'Must be -going to have a picnic,' he observed. - -"There was certainly a pile of stuff. There were long licorice -pipes enough in the wagon to surfeit the appetites of the four -Kaatensteins for many a day, and the name of the gum-drops was -legion. And there were two watermelons, and cookies enough to -satisfy even Jenny Kaatenstein's capacious desire. Also there were -nuts and some dyspeptic-looking pies, and a great many little dogs -and cats and elephants made of a very tough kind of candy which -all the Kaatenstein children thought perfectly lovely. Also there -were figs in boxes and chocolate-drops and red and white sticks -of candy, flavored with peppermint fit to make one's mouth water. -And all these things were in surprising quantity and made so heavy -a load that little Willy Kaatenstein was hard put to it to drag -it up the street. But little Willy Kaatenstein had strong little -arms and he and the wagon made slow and sure progress back to the -Kaatenstein home. The grocer stood out in front of his shop gazing -after the boy and the boy's wagon and the wagon's contents with a -puzzled and somewhat dubious smile. - -"Little Willy Kaatenstein proceeded into his front yard with the -wagon and around to the back on the side of the house where the -kitchen door was not. He dragged the wagon quietly on to the farther -end of the back yard and opened the gate of the pen made of laths, -where Mrs. Kaatenstein's ducks and geese were kept. He drew the -wagon in and back behind the duck-house, and left it. - -"Then little Willy Kaatenstein closed the lath gate and ran to find -Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein and -invite them to the feast. - -"But they were nowhere to be found. He hunted about in the house -and out of doors, but there was no sign of them, and for some -reason he thought he would not ask Emma questions touching on their -whereabouts. - -"So having hunted for his relatives all that he thought best, little -Willy Kaatenstein could but go out on the highways and byways and -call in the lame, the halt, and the blind. Accordingly he slipped -through the fence and went back into the alley-way to the house -immediately behind his own, in search of Bill and Katy Kelly, two -Irish friends of the Kaatenstein children--with whom they were not -allowed to play. Bill and Katy Kelly, to be sure, were neither lame -nor halt nor blind, but were very sound in limb and constitution, and -were extremely responsive to little Willy Kaatenstein's invitation -to come to the feast. Feasts were things that Bill and Katy Kelly -reveled in--when they had opportunity. - -"So in company with little Willy Kaatenstein--he in his curls and -his white suit, and the two in very dingy raiment--they hied them -through the fence to the feast. They reached the duck-yard without -being seen by Emma, the arch-enemy, and found the little wagon -safe, and the ducks and geese staring and peering and stretching -their necks at it and its contents with much curiosity. - -"This curiosity, on the part of the fowls, must have changed to -amazement when they beheld the attack made on the wagon and the -strange things in the way of eating that followed. - -"How Bill and Katy Kelly did eat and how they reveled! And little -Willy Kaatenstein literally waded in gum-drops and long licorice -pipes. They began the feast with pie; from pie they went at figs; -from figs they transferred to the tough little animals; and from -that to cookies; and from cookies to long licorice pipes. Then -they stopped eating consecutively and went at the entire feast -hap-hazard. - -"They ate fast and furiously for several minutes. - -"Then the first ardor of the feast subsided, and little Willy -Kaatenstein, for one, seemed to lose all interest not only in feasts -but in the world at large. He sat back upon a box, which contained -a duck sitting on twelve eggs, and looked at the ground with the -air of one who has someway lost his perspective. - -"Bill and Katy Kelly still ate, but more, it seemed, from a sense of -duty to themselves than from appetite, and presently their eating -became desultory, and they began to throw remnants of the feast to -the fowls. These at first gazed askance at the extraordinary food -thus lavished upon them--but finally went at it madly, as if they, -too, reveled in feasts. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein's face must need have been a study could she -have seen her cherished ducks and geese stuffing their crops with -licorice pipes and gum-drops. - -"But Mrs. Kaatenstein was out for the afternoon. - -"While these things were happening in her duck-yard, no less -interesting ones were taking place up-stairs in her bed-room, where -Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein were -prisoners of Emma. - -"At first they merely sat on the window-seat and discussed the -several untoward things that they wished would happen to Emma. -Having hanged, drawn and quartered that liberal-proportioned lady -until they could no more, they felt better. Then they looked over -their mother's room in search of amusement, with the result that -the black-walnut bureau, containing the toys with which they were -not allowed to play, was made to give forth the wealth of its -treasures. The floor of Mrs. Kaatenstein's bed-room presented a -motley appearance. Jenny Kaatenstein even forgot to miss her bit of -unleavened bread in her excitement over the fact that she actually -was holding her own huge wax doll in her lap. And the circus and -the steam-engine and the tinkling piano and the tea-sets and the -barking dogs and the picture books and the manifold other things -were at last put to those uses for which they had been destined. -And they even went to the jewel-case and got out their watches. - -"But Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein, -though they were pleasantly excited, were yet highly uneasy in -their minds. They knew they had yet to render up payment for the -day's business.---- - -"The rest of the tale is obvious enough," said my friend Annabel -Lee, laughing gently and changing her tone. - -"But please tell it," said I, with much eagerness. - -"Well, then," said my friend Annabel Lee:-- - -"The afternoon waned, and Mrs. Kaatenstein came home. She heard -unusual noises in her beloved duck-yard, and fled thither, as fast -as her goodly proportions would allow. - -"Her eyes met a sight which was maddening to them. - -"They beheld little Willy Kaatenstein, looking decidedly pale and -puffy, sitting weakly on a box containing a setting-duck--and the -two objectionable Kelly children actually at that moment feeding her -choicest goose with gum-drops. Scattered all about the once neat -duck yard was rubbish in frightful variety, and a half-dozen of -her tiny ducklings were busy at an atrocious watermelon. Certainly -no one but those Irish young ones could have brought in so much -litter. It did not take Bill and Katy Kelly long to gather that -they were not wanted there. Mrs. Kaatenstein quite quenched, for -the time, their fondness for feasts. As they went, she ordered them -to take their vile belongings with them, which they were willing -enough to do--as much of them as they could carry. They bestowed an -apprehensive glance on little Willy Kaatenstein--but little Willy -Kaatenstein's face was only pale, puffy and very passive. Having -dispersed the Kellys, Mrs. Kaatenstein led her son into the house -and stopped in the kitchen to demand of Emma why she allowed such -things to happen, and ordered her to go at once and clean out the -duck-yard. Emma obeyed, first giving up Mrs. Kaatenstein's bed-room -key and explaining her own possession of it. - -"Then Mrs. Kaatenstein, after doctoring little Willy Kaatenstein's -poor little stomach and laying him neatly out on a sofa in a cool, -dark room, went on to her own room, whence proceeded unusual noises. -Unlocking and opening the door, a sight the like of which she had -not of late years known overwhelmed her spirit. - -"The short, dead silence that followed her appearance on the -threshhold was but emphasized by the merry tinkling of the gay little -circus which had been wound up and would not stop, even under the -dark influence of impending tragedy.---- - -"Well," said my friend Annabel Lee, "the case of Harry Kaatenstein -and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein was attended to by their -mother. She whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed. - -"But as for little Willy Kaatenstein--not looking in the least pale -or puffy, he sat that evening, after dinner, on Uncle Will's lap, -wearing his own fine gold watch out of the jewel-case, and being -continually invited to have a glass of beer. - -"But in the kitchen, Emma was telling Juley that though she had once -thought a great deal of little Willy Kaatenstein she now honestly -believed him to be the very worst one of the four.---- - -"That story," said my friend Annabel Lee, "was very tiresome. You -shouldn't ask me to tell you stories." - -"I am sorry if it tired you," I said. "But the story was entirely -fascinating. It was _exactly_ like the Kaatensteins. And you, -telling a story of the Kaatensteins, are delicately, oh, delicately -incongruous!" - -"Were _you_ ever at a feast in the Kaatenstein duck-yard?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. - -"Yes, indeed," said I, "along with Bill and Katy Kelly, at the age -of eleven. And I have seen every toy in the black-walnut bureau." - -"And which would you," said my friend Annabel Lee, "to be at a feast -with the Kaatensteins at the age of eleven, or here, now, with me?" - -"When all's said," said I, "here with you, now, by far." - -"'Tis very good of you," said my friend Annabel Lee, and looked at -me with her purple eyes. - - - - -XXI - -A BOND OF SYMPATHY - - -Having told me stories, my friend Annabel Lee demanded that I should -write a bit of verse to read to her. - -My verse is rather rotten verse, and I told her so. She replied -that the fact of its being rotten had but little to do with the -matter, that most verse was rotten, anyway, and usually the more -rotten the better it suited the reader. - -She was in that mood. - -So I wrote some lines and read them to her--there was nothing else -to do. She had been kind in telling me stories, though probably she -told them because it amused her. When I finished reading, she said -that the verse was not rotten at all. She, for her part, would -call it not yet quite ripe. - -"That's the _verse_," said my friend Annabel Lee. "As for the -meaning of the words in it, that betrays many things. The most vivid -thing it betrays is your age. It shows that you have passed over -the period of nineteen and have arrived at exactly one-and-twenty. -And therefore it is a triumphant bit of verse. - -"Don't you know," said my friend Annabel Lee, "how much verse there -is thrown upon the world that means _nothing_ whatsoever? And so -when one does happen upon a bit of it that tells even the smallest -thing, like the height of the writer, or the color of his hair, -then one feels repaid. - -"And your verse tells still other things," said my friend Annabel -Lee. "One is that you still think, as we've agreed once before, -of that which will one day open wondrously for you." - -"I did not agree to that, you know," said I. - -"Well, then, I agreed to it for both of us," said my friend Annabel -Lee. "And your verse betrays that so plainly that one is led to -feel that there are persons who grow more hopeful with each bit of -darkness that comes to them. If your life were all fire and sunshine -you would write very different verse. And if it told anything at -all it would tell that while you looked forward to still more fire -and sunshine, you would somehow know you were not really to have -any more, but that it would grow less and less in the years, and by -the time you were an old lady, and still not nearly ready to die, -it would give out entirely." - -"That would be by the law of compensation," said I. "And it would -require a great deal of fire and sunshine in her early life to -compensate any one who had grown into an old lady and had run out -of it." - -"So it would," said my friend Annabel Lee. "Now, when you grow -old--though you will never be that which is called an old lady--you -will be quite mellow. And probably the less you have to be mellow -over, the mellower you will be." - -"I don't wish to be that way," said I. "I think that kind of person -is pitiful, living year after year." - -"You'll not be pitiful," said my friend Annabel Lee. "You can -not be mellow and pitiful at the same time. It may be that to be -mellow is the best thing, and the most comfortable. It maybe that -people struggle through a long life with but one object in their -minds--to be mellow in their old age. This verse certainly sounds -as if _you_ were looking forward to it." - -"I can't see that it sounds that way, at all," said I. - -"Of course you can't," said my friend Annabel Lee. "You wrote the -verse, and you are but you." - -"And what are some of the other things that it betrays?" I inquired. - -"It betrays," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that you are better in -detail than you are in the entire. And if that is true of you in -one thing it is true of you in everything. I daresay your friends -find things in you that they like extremely, but you in the entire -they look upon as something that has much to acquire." - -"Not my _friends_?" said I. - -"Yes, your _friends_," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"That is a bitter thing for a verse to show," I made answer, "and -a bitter thing to have in my mind." - -"Well, and aren't you wise enough to prefer the bitter things to -the sweet things?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "For every sweet -thing that you have in your mind, it is yours to pay a mighty bitter -price. Whereas the bitter things are valuable possessions. And if -it is true about your friends, of course you wish to know it." - -"No," said I, "I don't wish to know it." - -"But, at least," said my friend Annabel Lee, with a wonderful -softening of her voice into something that was sincere and enchanting, -"believe what I told you about it, for in that case you and I have -that good gift--a bond of sympathy. For if I had friends, of that -kind, they would look upon me as something with much to acquire, very -sure. But don't," said my friend Annabel Lee, hastily, "consider -the bond of sympathy a sweet thing--remember the mighty bitter -price." - -"I will believe what you said about the friends," said I--"and it -is bitter enough to purge my soul for a time. The bond of sympathy -is not a sweet thing, anyway. I don't expect to have to pay for -it-- And it brings a feeling of restfulness.--" - -"A bond of sympathy," said my friend Annabel Lee, "comes already -paid for. It does very well. It is not sweet--it tastes more like -a cigarette or an olive. - -"About the verse"--said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Please let's not talk about that any more," said I. - -"Whatever you like," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -And we talked of George Sand and her books. - -But, anyway, this was my bit of unripe verse: - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went lightly - Like the rippling of water; - And many tiny dear things went with it, and I watched them: - I knew that my star would never rise again. - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went softly - Like the half-lights of evening; - And as it went my frantic thoughts pursued it without hoping: - I knew that my star would never rise again. - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went tenderly - Like my friend who loves me; - But since it's gone the way shows dark--my two eyes are tired watching: - I know that my star will never rise again. - - - - -XXII - -THE MESSAGE OF A TENDER SOUL - - -"The message of a tender soul," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is a -thing that will go far, oh, so far, and lose nothing of itself. - -"When all things in the world are counted the beautiful things are -in the greatest numbers. And when all the things in the world are -counted the message of a tender soul counts greatly more than many. - -"A tender soul receives back no gratitude for its message, and looks -for no gratitude, and does not know what gratitude means. And the -tenderness of the message is all unmade and all unknown, but is -felt for long, long years. - -"The message of a tender soul goes over the sea into the lonesomeness -of the night and nothing stops it on the way, for all know what it -is and bid it godspeed. And it goes down and around a mountain to -a house where there is woe, and if before it came that house had -turned away charity and love and friendship and good-will and peace, -and had sent a curse after them all, still it opens wide its doors -for the message of a tender soul. For its coming is not heralded, -and the soul that sends it does not even know its tenderness, -and the hearts of all in that house where there is woe--they are -deeply, unknowingly comforted. And it goes upon the barrenness of -a countryside where there is not one green thing growing, and the -barrenness is then more than paradise, had paradise no such message. -And it goes where lovely flowers grow in thousands, where sparkling -water mingles with sparkling water and quenches thirst, where the -long gray moss hangs from birch-trees, where pale clouds float--and -itself is more beautiful than all these. Have you felt all those -tender things that go down into the depths? They bring comfort, -but also they bring tears into the eyes and pain into the heart. -The message of a tender soul--what does it bring but ineffable -comfort to the heart? You do not feel that it is a message, you do -not feel it to be a divinely beautiful thing. There are no sudden -salt tears. Only the message is there--only it does that for which -it is sent. Have you gone out and done all the work that you could -do, and done it faithfully and asked no reward--and have you come -back and cried out in bitterness of spirit? Then, it may be, came -wondrously beautiful things from over the way to tell you, Take -heart. But there was no 'take heart' for you. Then it may be there -came from that way which you were not looking, the message of a -tender soul. Then there was comfort, and with no tears of pain and -no bitter, bitter tears of joy. There was deep comfort so that you -could go out and work again and for no reward. There is work that -has no reward. For those that work for no reward there can be no -comfort in all the vastness except the message of a tender soul. -Have you gone out and done all the evil you could do, in cruel ways, -and taken away faith in some one from some one--and have come back -and suffered more than any of them? Then it may be there came the -message of a tender soul--and many, many other things faded from -your heart. And still there were no tears. And if there is too much -for you in living, and if the countless things near and far in the -world crowd over you and fill you with horrible fear, then, if -the message of a tender soul comes, one by one they step backward, -and in your heart is comfort for the long, long years. - -"There have been those that have had happiness that was more than -the world, but in the end there was no comfort, for their happiness -brought with it tears of joy and emotion that had limitless source. - -"If you have wanted happiness and have hungered and thirsted, after -there came the message of a tender soul, you were content with a -branch from a green pine-tree. - -"If you have felt a thousand tender things and have drunk from a -thousand cups and then have been about to write it in black lettering -that all, _all_ have failed you--if then there came the message of -a tender soul, you have written instead that nothing has failed -you, and you have turned back your footsteps and have tried it -all again. - -"If for you and me to-day there should come over frozen hills and -green meadows from a far country the message of a tender soul, -should we shiver when it is dark and should we dread the coming of -the years, and should we consider what would bring weariness and -what would bring rest, and should we measure and contemplate? But -no. For the message of a tender soul is a message from one that has -found the quiet and is absolutely at peace, and has gone so far -toward the stars and so far and wide over the green earth that she -has indeed reached the truth, and her soul gives of its tenderness -without thinking, and without knowing, and all in the dark. - -"And when we should feel the message, all without knowing, there -would come again that long-since faith, and that fullness of life, -and that sense of realness, and the shining of the sun would be of -new meaning. - -"It may be," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that we will have to go -still farther into the wilderness before the message comes, and it -may be also that it will not come for many years. - -"But it is in all ways comforting to know there is such a thing." - -More than I considered the message that might come, I considered -the voice with no hardness but with softness, and the lily face of -my friend Annabel Lee. - - - - -XXIII - -ME TO MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -I wrote the day before yesterday this letter to my friend Annabel -Lee: - - Montreal. ---- - -Dear Fair Lady: - -Since I have come to stay in Montreal for a time, and you still in -Boston, I have seen you, times, even more vividly than when I was -there. You come into my dreams at dead of night. - -Can you imagine what you are in my dreams? - -I look forward impatiently to the end of my time here, so that I -may go to find you again;--but my impatience grows someway less -when I think that if I am with you this vision may vanish from my -dreams.---- - -I will write you of some of the things I have found here. - -There is much in Montreal that takes me back into the dim mists--the -wonderful days when I had lived only three years. It was not here, -but farther west--still what is in Canada is Canadian and does -not change nor vary. This Canadian land and water and air awakens -shadow-things in my memory and visions and voices of the world as -it was when I was three. - -It is all exceeding fair to look upon about here. The fields are -green, not as they are in Massachusetts, but as they might be in the -south of France. There is a beautiful, broad, blue river that can -be seen from far off, and it sends out a haze and then all is gray -French country, and gray French villages. When you come near you -see the French peasants working in the fields--old men and maidens, -and very old, strange-looking women, all with no English words in -their mouths and no English thing in their lives if they can avoid -it. They wear brass rings on their hands and in their ears, and -the women wear gay-colored fish-wife petticoats, and in all their -faces and eyes is that look that comes from working always among -vegetables in the sun, the look of a piteous, useless brain. - -And there is the strange, long, tree-covered hill that they call -Mount Royal. I have in my mind a picture of it in a bygone century, -when an adventurous, brave Frenchman and a few Indians of the wild -stood high at its summit--he with the French flag unfurled in -the wind, and the Indians shading their eyes and looking off and -down into the valley. And there was not one sign of human life in -the valley, and all was wild growth and tangled underbrush, and -death-like silence, except maybe for the far-off sound of flying -wild hoofs in the forest. And now this hill is the lodging-place of -many things hidden among the trees--convents set about with tall, -thick, solid stone walls, and inside the walls are heavy-swathed -nuns who have said their farewell to all things without. And there -are hospitals founded and endowed in the name of the Virgin, and -Jesuit colleges, and the lodges of priests and brotherhoods. - -And in the midst of the St. Lawrence valley where the Indians looked -down is this old gray-stone city, and in the Place d'Armes square -is a fine triumphant statue of Maisonneuve with his French flag. - -This gray-stone city is builded thick with gray-stone cathedrals, -and some of them are very fine, and some of them are parti-colored -as rainbows inside, and all of them are Roman Catholic and French. - -The Protestant churches are but churches. - -And the Notre Dame cathedral, when the setting sun touches its -great, tall, gray, twin towers with red, is even more than French -and Roman Catholic. The white-faced women in the nunnery at the side -of it must need have a likeness of those eternal towers graven on -their narrow devout hearts. Within, the Notre Dame is most gorgeous -with brilliant-colored saints and Virgins and a passion of wealth -and Romanism. - -And is it not wonderful to think that many of these gray-stone -buildings and dwellings were here in the sixteen hundreds, and that -gray nuns walked in these same green gardens two centuries ago? -And the same country was about here, and the same blue water. - -And when all is said, the country and the blue water have been here -always, and are the most wonderful things of all. If the gray-stone -buildings were of yellow gold and of emeralds and brilliants, the -green country would be no fairer and no less exquisitely fair, and -the blue of the water would go no deeper into the heart and no less -deep, and the pale clouds would float high and gently with the same -old-time mystery. And the centuries they know are countless. - -The natural things are the same in Massachusetts--but here they -seem someway even older. You feel the breath of the very long-ago -among the wildness of green--as if only human beings had come and -gone, but it had never changed its smallest twig or grass-blade. -It seems but waiting, and its patience in the waiting is without -end. - -Away on the other side of the tree-covered mountain I have seen a -flat, gently-curved, country road with the sunshine upon it and -a few little English sparrows alighting and flying along it and -picking at grains. And the grass by the road-side was tall and rank -and sweet to the senses, and the road led to farms and the river -and the wildwood. Cows were feeding by a shallow brook, and there -were sumach bushes, thick and dark, near by. - -For several minutes when my eyes rested upon this I felt absolutely -content with all of life. - -While I'm telling you this, Annabel Lee, I am not quite sure you are -listening--and for myself, I see _you_ much more than anything I -have talked about. I am wondering how it is possible that you have -lived only fourteen years--even the fourteen years of a Japanese -woman. And I see again in my mind--your red lips, and your dead-black -hair, and your purple eyes, and your wonderful hands, and your -forehead with the widow's peak, and the two short side-locks that -curve around, and your slimness in the scarlet and gold-embroidered -gown. - -And most of all I see your eyes when they are full of soft purple -shadows, and your lips when they are tender--and your heart, as I -have seen it before, and its depths which are of the white purity. - -Last night there was the vision of you with your purple eyes wide and -gazing down at me with the white lids still. And I was horror-struck -at the look of world-weariness in them--how that it is terrible, -how that it follows one into the darkness and light, how that it is -grief and rage and madness, how that it makes the heart ache until -all the life-nerves ache with it--and there is no end; how that it -is life and death, and one can not escape!--a world of tears and -entreating and vows; but no, there is no escape. - -And then again I looked up at your purple eyes gazing down at me -full of strong, high scorn and triumph. "Do you think we have not -conquered life?" they said. "Do you think we can not crush out all -the little demons that presume to torture? Do you think we can not -conquer _everything_? Who is there that we have not known? Where -is there that we have not been? Are there any still, still shadows -that we have cringed before? Are there any brilliant lights upon the -sky that we have not faced boldly and put aside? And the stones and -the stars and the mists on the sea are less--less than we,--_we_ -are the greatest things of all." - -Thus your two eyes when I slept, and when I woke I saw you again as -you have looked so many times--the expression of your red lips, and -your voice with vague bitterness, and your lily face inscrutable. - -I shall see you so again many times, my friend Annabel Lee.-- - -The fact remains that I am in Montreal and Canada. And as the -days run along I am reminded that I have in me the old Canadian -instincts. The word "Canadian" has always called up in my mind a -confused throng of things, like--porridge for tea, and Sir Hugh -MacDonald, and Dominion Day, and my aunt Elizabeth MacLane, and -old-fashioned pictures of her majesty the queen, and Orangemen's -Day, and "good-night" for good-evening, and "reel of cotton" -for spool of thread, and "tin" instead of can, and Canadian -cheese, and _rawsberries_ in a patent pail, and the Queen's -Own in Toronto, and soldiers in red coats, and children in -Scotch kilts, and jam-tarts, and barley-sugar, and whitefish -from Lake Winnipeg, and the C. P. R., and the Parliament at -Ottawa, and coasting in toboggans, and Lord Aberdeen, and -everything-coming-over-from-England-so-much-better-and-cheaper- -than-American-ware,--and all that sort of thing. And my mind has -always had a color for Canada--a shade of mingled deep green and -golden brown. - -Even in Montreal, where so much is French, there is enough to stamp -it as beyond question Canadian. One still sees marks of her majesty -the queen--but shop-keepers assert confidently that "Edward is -going to make a good king," and Canadian men are made up as nearly -as possible after his pattern, stout and with that short pointed -beard. - -In the greenness of Dominion Square is the most beautiful piece of -sculpture I have seen. All the statues that stand about in Montreal -are finer than most of their kind, and there are no such hideous -creations as are set up in Boston and New York. The Dominion Square -statue is a bronze figure of a Sir John A. MacDonald. The face of -the figure is all that is serene and benign, and the lines of the -body and of the hands are made with strength and beauty. Whether -it is like Sir John A. MacDonald, one does not know--'tis enough -that it's an exquisite piece of workmanship with which to adorn a -city. And the Maisonneuve statue is a fine, handsome thing, and is -altogether alive. The bronze is no bronze, but has seventeenth-century -red blood in its veins, and the arm that is held high and the hand -with the flag mean conquest and victory. - -I shall see Quebec and the length of the blue river before I see you -again, and they, like Montreal, will be mingled with a many-tinted -looking-forward to being with you again. - -High upon the tower of a gray-stone building that I see from my -window is a carved gorgon's head, a likeness of Medusa with snaky -locks. She is hundreds of feet above me as I sit here, but I see the -expression of her face plainly--it is desolate and discouraging. It -says, Do you think you will see that fair lily Annabel Lee again? -Well, then, how foolish are you in your day and generation! I in -my years have seen the passing of many fair lilies. Always they -pass.-- - -Tell me, Annabel Lee,--always do they pass? But no--I shall find -you again. You will make all things many-tinted for a thousand -thousands of gold days. And are we not good friends in way and -manner? And do we not go the foot-pathway together? - -But I wonder always why the gorgon seems so fearfully knowing.-- - -Always my love to you. - - MARY MACLANE. - - - - -XXIV - -MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE TO ME - - -And after some days my friend Annabel Lee wrote me this upon a -square of rice paper: - - Boston,--Monday. - -Dear Mary MacLane:--Don't you know a gorgon is the knowingest thing -in the land? - -You may believe what your friend says of fair lilies. - -But have I ever said that I am a fair lily? - -As for my eyes--they are good chiefly to see with. And they are -bad for many things. - -Yes--get thee home soon, child. - -I miss you when I come to deck me mornings with my lavender slip -and my scarlet frock. And the gold marguerites have not been brushed -since you went away. - -Naught have I to bear me company except Ellen, the faithful little -tan deer--and she can not wait upon me, and she cannot worship me. - -What hast done with Martha Goneril the cat? - -I would fain you had left her here. - -But Mary MacLane--_you_. Do you know about it? - - YOUR FRIEND ANNABEL LEE. - - - - -XXV - -THE GOLDEN RIPPLE - - -My friend Annabel Lee and I are similar to each other in a few, few -ways. Daily we contemplate together a great, blank wall built up -of dull, blue stones. It stands before us and we can not get over -it, for it is too high; neither can we walk around it, for it is -too long; and we can not go through it, for it is solid and very -thick. It is directly across the road. We have both come but a -short way on the road--so short that we can easily look back over -our course to the point where we started. We did not walk together -from there, but we have met each other now before the great, blank -wall of blue stones. - -We have stopped here, for we can not go on. - -I wonder and conjecture much about the wall, and my friend Annabel -Lee regards it sometimes with interest and sometimes with none. - -And, times, we forget all about the wall and merely sit and rest -in the shade it casts, or walk back on the road, or in the grass -about it, or pluck a few wild sweet berries from the stunted wayside -briers. - -And, too, when a thunder storm comes up and the air is full of wind -and rain slanting and whistling about us, we crouch close against -the base of the wall, and we do not become so wet as we should were -there no wall. - -But that is only when the wind is from beyond it. - -When the wind with its flood of rain comes toward us as we crouch -by the wall we are beaten and drenched and buffeted and driven -hard against that cold, blue surface. And the ragged edges of the -rocks make bruises on our foreheads. - -Some days we become exceeding weary with looking at the great blank -wall--and with having looked at it already for many a day, and many -a day. - -"It is so high and so thick," I say. - -"It is so long," says my friend Annabel Lee. - -To all appearances we have gone as far upon the road as we ever can -go. We can not get over the wall of blue stones--and we can not -walk round--and we can not go through. There is nothing to indicate -that it will ever be removed. - -The field for conjecture as to what lies on the other side of the -road is so vast that we do not venture to conjecture. - -But we have talked often and madly of the wall itself. - -"Perhaps," I say, "it is that the wall is placed here before our -eyes to hide from us our limitations." - -"Perhaps," says my friend Annabel Lee, "it is that the wall itself -is our limitations." - -Which, if it is true, is very damnable. - -For though human beings have done some divine things they have -never gone beyond their limitations. - -The blue of the stones in the wall is not a dark blue, but it is -very cold. It is the color that is called stone blue. - -It never changes. - -The sun and the shade look alike upon it; and the wet rain does -not brighten it; neither do thick clouds of dust make it dull. - -It is stone blue. - -Except for this: - -Once in a number of days, in fair weather or foul, there will come -upon the wide blankness a rippling like gold. - -It lingers a second and vanishes--and appears again. And then it's -gone until another time. - -How tender, how lovely, how bright is the golden ripple against -the cold, cold blue! - -It is come and gone in a minute. - -We do not know its coming or its going. - -But while we see it our hearts beat high and fast. - -"It may be," I say when it is gone, "that this golden ripple will -show us some way to get beyond the wall where things are divine." - -"It may be," says my friend Annabel Lee, "that the golden ripple -will show us something divine among these few things on this side -of the wall." - - * * * * * - -_My friend, Annabel Lee--with your strong, brave little heart and -your two strong little hands, you were with me in my weary, bitter -day. You were brave enough for two. It is to you from me that a -message will go from out of silences and over frozen hills in the -years that are coming._ - - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY - AND SONS COMPANY, AT THE - LAKESIDE PRESS, CHICAGO, ILL. - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - -Errors in punctuation were repaired. - -Except for the following changes, spelling has been preserved as -printed in the original. - - Page 32, "countless" changed from "couutless" (countless - grass-blades). - Page 43, "written" changed from "writtten" (who has written). - Page 95, "Annabel" changed from "Annable" ("To fall in - love!"--said my friend Annabel). - Page 128, "look" changed from "took" (Annabel Lee to look - at). - Page 139, "Le Page" changed from "LePage" (and Le Page - covered). - Page 158, "beautiful" on the second and fourth lines of - the verse "For the moon never beams ..." changed from - "beatiful" and "beautiul", respectively. - Page 212, "it's" changed from "its" (it's all right). - -On page 224, a paragraph break was inserted before "And which - would you".] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Friend Annabel Lee, by Mary MacLane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - -***** This file should be named 43624-8.txt or 43624-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/6/2/43624/ - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - -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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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: My Friend Annabel Lee - -Author: Mary MacLane - -Release Date: September 2, 2013 [EBook #43624] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - - - - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43624 ***</div> <div class="bookcover"> <img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" style="max-width: 451px;" alt="Book cover" /> @@ -5333,380 +5297,6 @@ printed in the original.</p> would you”.</p> </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Friend Annabel Lee, by Mary MacLane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - -***** This file should be named 43624-h.htm or 43624-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/6/2/43624/ - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - -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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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: My Friend Annabel Lee - -Author: Mary MacLane - -Release Date: September 2, 2013 [EBook #43624] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - - - - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - - - - - - - - - My Friend Annabel Lee - - - - - [Photograph: Author's portrait] - [Signature: Mary MacLane] - - - - - MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - - BY - Mary MacLane - - - [Illustration: Publisher's logo] - - - Chicago - Herbert S. Stone and Company - MCMIII - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1903 - BY - HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY - _Issued September 1, 1903_ - - - - - TO - LUCY GRAY, IN CHICAGO - THIS BOOK - AND ONE PALE LAVENDER FLOWER OF AMARANTH - - MONTREAL - JULY, 1903 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. The Coming of Annabel Lee 1 - II. The Flat Surfaces of Things 7 - III. My Friend Annabel Lee 13 - IV. Boston 15 - V. A Small House in the Country 29 - VI. The Half-Conscious Soul 35 - VII. The Young-Books of Trowbridge 43 - VIII. "Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother" 55 - IX. Relative 61 - X. Minnie Maddern Fiske 69 - XI. Like a Stone Wall 81 - XII. To Fall in Love 89 - XIII. When I Went to the Butte High School 97 - XIV. "And Mary MacLane and Me" 113 - XV. A Story of Spoon-Bills 131 - XVI. A Measure of Sorrow 153 - XVII. A Lute with no Strings 163 - XVIII. Another Vision of my Friend Annabel Lee 173 - XIX. The Art of Contemplation 183 - XX. Concerning Little Willy Kaatenstein 193 - XXI. A Bond of Sympathy 225 - XXII. The Message of a Tender Soul 233 - XXIII. Me to My Friend Annabel Lee 241 - XXIV. My Friend Annabel Lee to Me 255 - XXV. The Golden Ripple 257 - - - - -My Friend Annabel Lee - - - - -I - -THE COMING OF ANNABEL LEE - - -But the only person in Boston town who has given me of the treasure -of her heart, and the treasure of her mind, and the touch of her -fair hand in friendship, is Annabel Lee. - -Since I looked for no friendship whatsoever in Boston town, this -friendship comes to me with the gentleness of sunshowers mingled -with cherry-blossoms, and there is a human quality in the air that -rises from the bitter salt sea. - -Years ago there was one who wrote a poem about Annabel Lee--a -different lady from this lady, it may be, or perhaps it is the -same--and so now this poem and this lady are never far from me. - -If indeed Poe did not mean this Annabel Lee when he wrote so -enchanting a heart-cry, I at any rate shall always mean this Annabel -Lee when Poe's enchanting heart-cry runs in my mind. - -Forsooth Poe's Annabel Lee was not so enchanting as this Annabel -Lee. - -I think this as I gaze up at her graceful little figure standing on -my shelf; her wonderful expressive little face; her strange white -hands; her hair bound and twisted into glittering black ropes and -wound tightly around her head. - -Were you to see her you would say that Annabel Lee is only a very -pretty little black and terra-cotta and white statue of a Japanese -woman. And forthwith you would be greatly mistaken. - -It is true that she had stood in extremely dusty durance vile, in -a Japanese shop in Boylston street, for months before I found her. -It is also true that I fell instantly in love with her, and that -on payment of a few strange dollars to the shop-keeper, I rescued -her from her surroundings and bore her out to where I live by the -sea--the sea where these wonderful, wide, green waves are rolling, -rolling, rolling always. Annabel Lee hears these waves, and I hear -them, at times holding our breath and listening until our eyes are -strained with listening and with some haunting terror, and the low -rushing goes to our two pale souls. - -For though my friend Annabel Lee lived dumbly and dustily for -months in the shop in Boylston street, as if she were indeed but a -porcelain statue, and though she was purchased with a price, still -my friend Annabel Lee is exquisitely human. - -There are days when she fills my life with herself. - -She gives rise to manifold emotions which do not bring rest. - -It was not I who named her Annabel Lee. That was always her name--that -is who she is. It is not a Japanese name, to be sure--and she is -certainly a native of Japan. But among the myriad names that are, -that alone is the one which suits her; and she alone of the myriad -maidens in the world is the one to wear it. - -She wears it matchlessly. - -I have the friendship of Annabel Lee; but for her love, that is -different. - -Annabel Lee is like no one you have known. She is quite unlike -them all. Times I almost can feel a subtle, conscious love coming -from her finger-tips to my forehead. And I, at one-and-twenty, am -thrilled with thrills. - -Forsooth, at one-and-twenty, in spite of Boston and all, there -are moments when one can yet thrill. - -But other times I look up and perchance her eyes will meet mine -with a look that is cold and penetrating and contemptuous and -confounding. - -Other times I look up and see her eyes full of indifference, full -of tranquillity, full of dull deadly quiet. - -Came Annabel Lee from out of Boylston street in Boston. And lo, -she was so adorable, so fascinating, so lovable, that straightway -I adored her; I was fascinated by her; I loved her. - -I love her tenderly. For why, I know not. How can there be accounting -for the places one's loves will rest? - -Sometimes my friend Annabel Lee is negative and sometimes she is -positive. - -Sometimes when my mind seems to have wandered infinitely far from -her I realize suddenly that 'tis she who holds it enthralled. -Whatsoever I see in Boston or in the vision of the wide world my -judgment of it is prejudiced in ways by the existence of my friend -Annabel Lee--the more so that it's mostly unconscious prejudice. - -Annabel Lee's is an intense personality--one meets with intense -personalities now and again, in children or in bull-dogs or in -persons like my friend Annabel Lee. - -And I never tire of looking at Annabel Lee, and I never tire of -listening to her, and I never tire of thinking about her. - -And thinking of her, my mind grows wistful. - - - - -II - -THE FLAT SURFACES OF THINGS - - -"There are moments," said my friend Annabel Lee, "when, willy nilly, -they must all come out upon the flat surfaces of things. - -"They look deep into the green water as the sun goes down, and their -mood is heavy. Their heart aches, and they shed no tears. They look -out over the brilliant waves as the sun comes up, and their mood is -light-hearted and they enjoy the moment. Or else their heart aches -at the rising and their mood is light-hearted at the setting. But -let it be one or the other, there are bland moments when they see -nothing but flat surfaces. If they find all at once, by a little -accident, that their best-loved is a traitor friend, and they go at -the sun's setting and gaze deep into the green water, and all is -dark and dead as only a traitor best-beloved can make it, and their -mood is very heavy--still there is a bland moment when their stomach -tells them they are hungry, and they listen to it. It is the flat -surface. After weeks, or it may be days, according to who they are, -their mood will not be heavy--yet still their stomach will tell them -they are hungry, and they will listen. If their best-loved cease to -be, suddenly--that is bad for them, oh, exceeding bad; they suffer, -and it takes weeks for them to recover, and the mark of the wound -never wears away. But with time's encouraging help they do recover. -But if," said my friend Annabel Lee, "their stomach should cease to -be, not only would they suffer--they would die--and whither away? -That is a flat surface and a very truth. And when they consider -it--for one bland moment--they laugh gently and cease to have a -best-loved, entirely; they cease to fill their veins with red, red -life; they become like unto mice--mice with long slim tails. - -"For one bland moment. - -"And, too, the bland moment is long enough for them to feel restfully, -deliciously, but unconsciously, thankful that there are these flat -surfaces to things and that they can thus roll at times out upon -them. - -"They roll upon the flat surfaces much as a horse rolls upon the -flat prairie where the wind is. - -"And when for the first time they fall in love, if their belt is -too tight there will come a bland moment when they will be aware -that their belt is thus tight--and they will not be aware of much -else. - -"During that bland moment they will loosen their belt. - -"When they were eight or nine years old and found a fine, ripe, -juicy-plum patch, and while they were picking plums a balloon -suddenly appeared over their heads, their first delirious impulse -was to leave all and follow the balloon over hill and dale to the -very earth's end. - -"But even though a real live balloon went sailing over their heads, -they considered this: that _some other kids would get our plums that -we had found_. A balloon was glorious--a balloon was divine--but -even so, there was a bland moment in which the thought of some -vicious, tow-headed Swede children from over the hill, who would -rush in on the plums, came just in time to make the balloon pall -on them. - -"But," said my friend Annabel Lee, "by the same token, in talking -over the balloon after it had vanished down the sky, there would -come another bland moment when the plums would pall upon them--pall -completely, and would appear hateful in their eyes for having kept -from them the joy of following the divine balloon. That is another -aspect of the flat surfaces of things. And they must all come out -upon the flat surfaces, willy-nilly. - -"And," said Annabel Lee, glancing at me as my mind was dimly wistful; -"not only must they come out upon the flat surfaces of things, but -also you and I must come, willy-nilly. - -"And since we _must_ come, willy-nilly," added the lady, "then -why not stay out upon the flat surfaces? Certainly 'twill save the -trouble of coming next time. Perhaps, however, it's all in the -coming." - - - - -III - -MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -My friend Annabel Lee never fails to fascinate and confound me. - -Much as she gives, there is in her infinitely more to get. - -My relation with her never goes on, and it never goes back. It leads -nowhere. She and I stop together in the midst of our situation and -look about us. And what we see in the looking about is all and -enough to consider. - -And considering, I write of it. - - - - -IV - -BOSTON - - -Yesterday the lady was in her most amiable mood, and we talked -together--about Boston, it so happened. - -"Do you like Boston?" she asked me. - -"Yes," I replied; "I am fond of Boston. It fascinates me." - -"But not fonder of it than of Butte, in Montana?" - -"Oh, no," said I, hastily. "Butte in Montana is my first love. -There are barren mountains there--they are with me always. Boston -doesn't go to my heart in the least, but I like it much. I like to -live here." - -"I am fond of Boston--sometimes," Annabel Lee observed. "Here by -the sea it is not quite Boston. It is everything. This sea washes -down by enchanted purple islands and touches at the coast of Spain. -But if one can but turn one's eyes from it for a moment, Boston is -a fine and good thing, and interesting." - -"I think it is--from several points of view," I agreed. - -"Tell me what you find that interests you in Boston," said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"There are many things," I replied. "I have found a little corner -down by the East Boston wharf where often I sit on cold days. The -sun shines bright and warm on a narrow wooden platform between -two great barrels, and I can be hidden there, but I can watch the -madding crowd as it goes. The crowd is very madding down around East -Boston. And I do not lack company--sometimes brave, sharp-toothed -rats venture out on the ground below me. They can not see the -madding crowd, but they can enjoy the sunshine and hunt mice among -the rubbish. - -"The dwellers in East Boston--they are the poor we have always with -us. They are not the meek, the worthy, the deserving poor. They are -the devilish, the ill-conditioned--one with the wharf rats that hunt -for mice. Except that the rats do occasionally try to clean their -soft, gray coats by licking them with their little red tongues; -whereas, the poor--But why should the poor wash? Are they not the -poor? - -"As I rest me between my two great barrels and watch this grewsome -pageant, I think: It seems a quite desperate thing to be poor in -Boston, for Boston is said to be of the best-seasoned knowledge and -to carry a lump of ice in its heart. From between my two barrels in -East Boston I have seen humanity, oh, so brutal, oh, so barbarous -as ever it could have been in merrie England in the reign of good -old Harry the Eighth.---- - -"And so then that is very interesting." - -"In truth it is so," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Boston is fair, and very fair.--Tell me more." - -"And times," I said, "I sit in one of the window-seats on the stairway -of the Public Library. And I look at the walls. A Frenchman with -a marvelous fancy and great skill in his finger-ends has worked -on those walls. He painted there the emblems of all the world's -great material things of all ages. And over them he painted a thin -gray veil of those things that are not material, that come from no -age, that are with us, around us, above us--as they were with the -children of Israel, with the dwellers in Pompeii, with the fair -cities of Greece and the inhabitants thereof. - -"I have looked at the paintings and I have been dazzled and -transported. What is there not upon those walls! - -"I have seen, in truth, 'the vision of the world and all the wonder -that shall be.' - -"I have seen the struggling of the chrysalis-soul and its bursting -into light; I have seen the divinity that doth sometime hedge the -earth; I have looked at a conception of Poetry and I have heard -the thin, rhythmic sounds of shawms and stringed instruments; and -I have heard low, voluptuous music from within the temple--human -voices like sweet jessamine; I have seen the fascinating idolatry -of pagans--and I have seen, pale in the evening by the light of -a star, the wooden figure of the Cross; I have leaned over the -edge of a chasm and beheld the things of old--the army of Hannibal -before Carthage--the Norsemen going down to the sea in ships--the -futile, savage fighting of Goths and Vandals; I have seen science -and art within the walled cities, and I have seen frail little lambs -gamboling by the side of the brook; I have seen night-shades lowering -over occult works, and I have seen bees flying heavy-laden to their -hives on a fine summer's morning; I have heard a lute played where a -tiny cataract leaps, and the pipes of Pan mingled with the bubbling -notes of a robin in mint meadows; I have seen pages and pages of -printed lines that reach from world's end to world's end; I have -seen profound words written centuries ago in inks of many colors; I -have seen and been overwhelmed by the marvels of scientific things -bristling with the accurate kind of knowledge that I shall never -know; withal, I have seen the complete serenity of the world's -face, as shown by the brush of the Frenchman Chavannes. - -"And over all, the nebulous conception of the long, ignorant silence. - -"What is there not upon those wonderful walls! - -"I sit in semi-consciousness in the little window-seat and these -things swim before my two gray eyes. My mind is full of the vision -of murmuring, throbbing life. - -"But what a thing is life, truly--for marvelous as are these -pictures, those that I have seen, times, down where the rats forage -among the rubbish, are more marvelous still." - -"Truly," said my friend Annabel Lee, "there is much, much, in -Boston. Tell me more." - -"Well, and there is the South Station," I went on. "Oh, not until -one has ambled and idled away a thousand hours in that place of -trains and varied peoples can one know all of what is really to -be found within its waiting-rooms. - -"I have found Massachusetts there--not any Massachusetts that I had -ever read about, but the Massachusetts that comes in from Braintree -and Plymouth and Middleboro carrying a Boston shopping-bag; the -Massachusetts that is intellectual and thrusts its forefinger through -the handle of its tea-cup; the Massachusetts that eats soup from -the end of its spoon; the Massachusetts that is good-hearted but -walks funny; the Massachusetts that takes all the children and goes -down to Providence for a day--each of the children with a thick, -yellow banana in its hand; the Massachusetts that has its being -because the world wears shoes--for it is intellectual and can make -shoes. - -"And in the South Station, furthermore, there are people from the -wide world around. Actors and authors and artists are to be seen -coming in and going out and sitting waiting in the waiting-rooms. -Some mightily fine and curious persons have sat waiting in those -waiting-rooms, as well as dingy Italians with strings of beads -around their necks. - -"And in the South Station there are so many, many people, that, -once in a long while, one can meet with some of those tiny things -that one has waited for for centuries. In among a multitude of -faces there may be a young face with lines of worn and vivid life -in it, and with alert and much-used eyes, and with soft dull hair -above it. In a flash one recognizes it, and in a flash it is gone. -It is a face that means beautiful things and one has known it and -its divineness a long, long time. And here in the South Station in -Boston came the one gold glimpse of it. - -"And I have seen in the South Station a strange scene: that of a -mild Jew man bearing the brunt of caring for his large family of -small children, while their child-weary mother was allowed for once -in her life to rest completely, sitting with her eyes closed and -her hands folded. She might well rest tranquil in the thought that -in giving birth to that small Hebraic army she had done her share -of this dubious world's penance. - -"And in the South Station, as much as anywhere, one feels the air -of Boston. - -"The air of Boston, too, is wonderful--and 'tis not free for all to -breathe. 'Tis for the anointed--the others must content them with -the untinted, unscented air that blows wild from mountain-tops and -north seas. But for me, I have eyes wherewith to see--and since the -air of Boston has color, I can see it. And I have ears wherewith -to hear--and since the air of Boston has musical vibrations, I can -hear it. And I have sensibility--wherefore all that is pungent in -the air of Boston, and all that is fine, and all that is art, and -all that is beautiful, and all that is true, and all that is benign, -and particularly all that is very cool and all that is bitterly -contemptuous--are not wholly lost upon me. - -"If all the persons who go to and fro at the South Station were -heroes and breathed the air there and left their dim shadows behind -them--as they do--I presume the South Station would be hallowed -ground. They all are not heroes, but they breathe the air and leave -their dim shadows, whatever they may be, and ever after the air -of the South Station is tinctured. And since more than a half of -these people are of Boston, the air is tinctured therewith. - -"If you are civilized and conventional you may know and breathe this -air. If you are not--well, at least you may stand and contemplate -it. And always one can bide one's time. - -"My contemplation of it has interested me. - -"The air of Boston is a mingling of very ancient and very modern -things and ways of thinking that are picturesque and at times lead -to something. The ancient things date back to Confucius and others -of his ilk--and the modern ones are tinted with Lilian Whiting and -newspapers and the theater. - -"One is half-conscious of this as one contemplates, and one's thought -is, 'Woe is me that I have my habitation among the tents of Kedar!' -One exclaims this not so much that one considers oneself benighted, -but that one is very sure that the air of Boston considers one so. -To be sure, it ought to know, but, somehow, as yet one is content -to bide one's time. - -"But yes. There is a beatified quality in the air of Boston. It -is tinted with rose and blue. It sounds, remotely, of chimes and -flutes. You feel it, perchance, when you sit within the subdued, -brilliant stillness of Trinity church--when you walk among the green -and gold fields about Brookline and Cambridge, where orchids are -lifting up their pale, soft lips--when you are in the Museum of -Fine Arts and see, hanging on the wall, a small dull-toned picture -that is old--so old! - -"Music is in the air of Boston. It pours into the heart like fire -and flood--it awakens the soul from its dreaming--it sends the -human being out into the many-colored pathways to see, to suffer, -it may be--yes, surely to suffer--but to live, oh, to live! - -"One can see in the mists the slender, gray figure of one's own -soul rising and going to mingle with all these. In spite of the -clouds about it, one knows its going and that it is well. It was -long since said: 'My beloved has gone down into her garden to the -bed of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.' And -now again is the beloved in the garden, and in those moments, oh, -life is fair"---- - -My friend Annabel Lee opened her lips--her lips like damp, red -quince-blooms in the spring-time--and told me that there were times -when I interested her, times when I amused her mightily, and times -when in me she made some rare discoveries. - -But which of the three this time was, she has not told. - - - - -V - -A SMALL HOUSE IN THE COUNTRY - - -But Boston--or even Butte in Montana--is not to be compared to a -lodging-place far down in the country: a tiny house by the side -of a fishy, mossy pond, in summer-time, with the hot sun shining -on the door-step, and a clump of willows and an oak-tree growing -near; on the side of the house where the sun is bright in the -morning, some small square beds of radishes, and pale-green heads -of lettuce, and straight, neat rows of young onions, with the moist -earth showing black between the rows; and a few green peas growing -by a small fence; and on the other side of the little house grass -will grow--tall rank grass and some hardy weeds, and perhaps a -tiger-lily or two will come up unawares. The fishy pond will not -be too near the house, nor too far away--but near enough so that -the singing of the frogs in the night will sound clear and loud. - -Rolling hills will be lying fair and green at a distance, and -cattle will wander and graze upon them in the shade of low-hanging -branches. On still afternoons a quail or a pheasant will be heard -calling in the woods. - -The air that will blow down the long gentle uplands will be very -sweet. The message that it brings, as it touches my cheeks and my -lips and my forehead, will be one of exceeding deep peace. - -I would live in the little house with a friend of my heart--a friend -in the shadows and half-lights and brilliances. For if the hearts -of two are tuned in accord the harmony may be of exquisite tenor. - -In the very early morning I would sit on the doorstep where the -sun shines, and my eyes would look off at the prospect. Life would -throb in my veins. - -In the middle of the forenoon I would be kneeling in the beds of -radishes and slim young onions and lettuce, pulling the weeds from -among them and staining my two hands with black roots. - -In the middle of the day I would sit in the shade, but where I could -see the sunshine touching the brilliant greenness, near the house -and afar. And I could see the pond glaring with beams and motes. - -In the late afternoon I, with the friend of my heart, would walk down -among the green valleys and wooded hills, by fences and crumbling -stone walls, until we reached a point of vantage where we could -see the sea. - -In the night, when the sun had gone and the earth had cooled and -the dark, dark gray had fallen over all, we would sit again on the -doorstep. It would be lonesome there, with the sound of the frogs -and of night-birds--and there would be a cricket chirping. We would -speak to each other with one or two words through long stillnesses. - -Presently would come the dead midnight, and we would be in heavy -sleep beneath the low, hot roof of the little house. - -Mingled with the dead midnight would be memories of the day that -had just gone. In my sleep I would seem to walk again in the -meadows, and the green of the countless grass-blades would affect -me with a strange delirium--as if now for the first time I saw -them. Each little grass-blade would have a voice and would shout: -_Mary MacLane, oh, we are the grass-blades and we are here! We are -the grass-blades, we are the grass-blades, and we are here!_ - -And yes. That would be the marvelous thing--that they were _here_. -And would not the leaves be upon the trees?--and would not tiny -pale flowers be growing in the ground?--and would not the sky be -over all? Oh, the unspeakable sky! - -In the dead midnight sleep would leave me and I would wake in a -vision of beauty and of horror, with fear at my heart, with horrible -fear at my heart. - -Then frantically I would think of the little radish-beds outside -the window--how common and how satisfying they were. Thus thinking, -I would sleep again and wake to the sun's shining. - -"You would not," said my friend Annabel Lee, "stay long in such a -place." - -I looked at her. - -"Its simplicity and truth," said my friend Annabel Lee, "would -deal you deep wounds and scourge you and drive you forth as if you -were indeed a money-changer in the temple." - - - - -VI - -THE HALF-CONSCIOUS SOUL - - -Annabel Lee leaned her two elbows on the back of a tiny sandalwood -chair and looked down at me. - -We regarded each other coldly, as friends do, times. - -"You," said Annabel Lee, "have a half-conscious soul. Such a soul -that when it hears a strain of music can hear away to the music's -depths but can understand only one-half of its meaning; but because -it is half-conscious it knows that it understands only the half, -and must need weep for the other half; such a soul that when it -wanders into the deep green and meets there a shadow-woman, with -long, dark hair and an enchanting voice, it feels to its depths -the spirit of the green and the voice of the shadow-woman, but -can understand only one-half of what they tell: but because it is -half-conscious it knows that it understands only the half, and must -need weep for the other half; such a soul that when it is bound and -fettered heavily, it knows since it is half-conscious, that it is -bound and fettered, but knows not why nor wherefore nor whether it -is well, which is the other half--and it must need weep for it; such -a soul that when it hears thunderings in the wild sky will awaken -from sleep and listen--listen, but since it is half-conscious it -can only hear, not know--and it sounds like an unknown voice in an -unknown language, telling the dying speech of its best-loved--it is -frantic to know the translation which is the other half; such a soul -that when life gathers itself up from around it and stands before -it and says, Now, contemplate life, it contemplates, since it is -half-conscious, but it for that same reason strains its eyes to -look over life's shoulders into the dimness--which is an impossible -thing, and the other half; such a soul that when it finds itself -mingling in love for its friend, and all, it enjoys, oh, vividly -in all moments but the crucial moments, when it aches in torment -and doubt--for it is half-conscious and so knows its lacking. - -"Desolate is the way of the half-conscious soul," said Annabel Lee. - -"The wholly conscious soul receives into itself things in their -entirety without question or wonder: the half-conscious soul receives -the half of things, and knowing that there is another half, it -wonders and questions till all's black. - -"The wholly conscious soul is different from the wholly unconscious -soul in that the former is positive whilst the latter is negative--and -they both in their nature can find rest: but the half-conscious -soul knows that it is half-conscious, still it knows not at what -points it is conscious and at what points unconscious--for when it -thinks itself conscious, lo, it is unconscious, and when it thinks -itself unconscious it is heavily, bitterly conscious--and nowhere -can it find rest. - -"The wholly conscious soul holds up before its eyes a mirror and -gazes at itself, its color, its texture, its quality, its desires -and motives, without flinching, in the strong light of day; the -wholly unconscious soul knows not that it is a soul, and never uses -a mirror: but the half-conscious soul looks into its glass in the -gray light of dusk--it sees its color, its texture, its quality, -its desires--but its motives are hidden. Its eyes are wide in the -gray light to learn what those, its own motives, are. It can not -know, but it can never rest for trying to know. - -"The wholly conscious soul knows its love, its sorrow, its -bitterness, its remorse. - -"The half-conscious soul knows its love--and wonders why it loves, -and wonders if it really can love any but itself, and wonders that -it cares for love; the half-conscious soul knows its sorrow--and -marvels that it should have sorrow since it can grasp not truth; -the half-conscious soul knows its bitterness, and realizes at once -its right to and its reason for bitterness--but, thinking of it, -the arrow is turned in the wound; the half-conscious soul knows -its remorse, but it is convinced that it has no right to remorse, -since it does its unworthy acts with infinite forethought. - -"The wholly conscious soul is a chastened spirit and so has its -measure of happiness; the wholly unconscious soul is an unchastened -spirit, for it deserves no chastisement--neither has it any -happiness, for it knows not whether it is happy or otherwise: but -the half-conscious soul is chastised where it is not deserving of -it, and goes unchastised where it is richly deserving of it--and -so has no happiness, but instead, unhappiness. - -"Woe to the half-conscious soul," said Annabel Lee. - -"How brilliantly does the emerald sea flash in the sunshine before -the eyes of the half-conscious soul!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"How melting-sweet is the perfume of the blue anemone to the sense -of the half-conscious soul!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"How beautiful are the bronze lights in the eyes of its friend to -the half-conscious soul!--that burn it with mad-fire. - -"How joyous is the half-conscious soul at the sounds of singing -voices on water!--that burn it with mad-fire. - -"How surely come the wild, sweet meanings of the outer air into the -depths of the half-conscious soul!--but burn it with mad-fire. - -"How madly happy is the half-conscious soul in still hours at sight -of a solitary pine-tree upon the mountain-top!--that burns it with -mad-fire. - -"How tenderly comes Truth to the half-conscious soul in the dead -watches of the night!--but burns it with mad-fire. - -"Life is vivid, alert, telling to the half-conscious soul," said -Annabel Lee. - -"You," said Annabel Lee, "with your half-conscious soul, when you -sit where the gray waves wash the sea-wall at high-tide, when you -sit listening with your head bent and your hands dead cold, you -think you realize your life--you think you know its hardness--you -think you have measured the cruelty they will give you; but you do -not know. You know but half--you weep for the other half, though -it be horror. - -"Still, though you are but half-conscious, though you weep for the -other half, when you sit listening with your head bent and your hands -dead cold, where the gray waves wash the sea-wall at high-tide--yet -you know some of each one of the things that are around you. - -"Wonderful in conception is the half-conscious soul," said Annabel -Lee.---- - -I looked hard at my friend Annabel Lee. Was she teasing me? Was -she laughing at me? For she does tease me and she does laugh at -me. And was she at either of these pastimes, with all this about -a half-conscious soul? - -But here again she left me ignorant of her thought, and there is -no way of knowing. - - - - -VII - -THE YOUNG-BOOKS OF TROWBRIDGE - - -There are two writers, among them all, to whom I owe thanks for -countless hours of complete pleasure. Not the pleasure that stirs -and fires one, but the pleasure which enters into the entire -personality, and rests and satisfies a common, unstrained mind. -'Tis the same pleasure that comes with eating all by myself--eating -peaches and a fine, tiny lamb chop in the middle of the day. - -One of these two writers is J. T. Trowbridge who has written -young-books. - -Often I have thought, Life would be different, and duller colored, -and less thickly sprinkled with marigolds-and-cream, had I never -known my Trowbridge. - -Often I have thanked the happy fate that put into my hands my first -young-book of Trowbridge. 'Twas when I was fourteen--one day in -October, when I lived in a flat, windy town that was named Great -Falls, in Montana. Since that time I have never been without the -young-books of J. T. Trowbridge. There have but seven years passed -since then, but when seven years more, and seven years again, up to -threescore, have gone, I still shall spend one-half my rest-hours, -my pleasure-hours, my loosely-comfortable, unstrained hours with -the young-books of Trowbridge. - -When I go to a theater I enjoy it thoroughly. A theater is a good -thing, and the actor is a stunning person--but how eagerly and -gladly I come back into my own room where there is a faithful, -little, tan deer standing waiting, all so pathetic and sweet, upon -the desk. - -When I go out into two crowded rooms among some fascinating persons -that I have heard of before--women with fine-wrought gowns--I like -that, too, and I wouldn't have missed it--but how utterly restful -and adorable it is to come back to my own room where there is my -comfortable quiet friend in a rusty black flannel frock, sitting -waiting--and her hands so soft and good to feel. - -When I read gold treasures of literature--Vergil, it may be, or -a Browning, or Kipling--I am enchanted and enthralled. I marvel -at these people and how they can write. I think how marvelous is -writing, at last--but how gladly and thankfully, after two hours -or three, I return back to these my young-books of Trowbridge. - -They are about people living on farms, and they are written so that -you know that red-root grows among wheat-spears, and must be weeded -out, and that the farmer's boys have to milk the cows mornings -before breakfast and evenings after supper. For they have supper in -the Trowbridge books--and it is even attractive and tastes good. - -When the lads go to gather kelp to spread on the land, and are -gone for the day by the seashore, they eat roasted ears of corn, -and cold-boiled eggs, and bread-and-butter, and three bottles of -spruce beer--and if you really know the Trowbridge books you can -eat of these with them, and with a wonderful appetite. - -When a slim boy of sixteen goes to hunt for his uncle's horse that -had been stolen in the night (because the boy left the stable -door unlocked), along pleasant country roads and smiling farms in -Massachusetts--if you really know the Trowbridge books--the slim boy -of sixteen is not more anxious to find the horse than you are. When -the boy and the reader first start after the horse they are far too -wretched and anxious to eat--for the crabbed uncle told them they -needn't come back to the farm without that horse. But long before -noon they are glad enough that they have a few doubled slices of -buttered bread to eat as they go. When at last they come upon the -horse calmly feeding under a cattle-shed at a county fair twenty -miles away, they are quite hungry, and in their joy they purchase -a wedge of pie and some oyster crackers, so that they needn't be -out of sight of the horse while they eat. And the reader--if he -really knows the Trowbridge books--would fain stop here, for there -is trouble ahead of him. He would fain--but he can not. He must go -on--he must even come in crucial contact with Eli Badger's hickory -club--he must go with the boy until he sees him and the horse at -last safely back at Uncle Gray's farm, the horse placidly munching -oats in his own stall, and the boy eating supper once more with -appetite unimpaired, and the crabbed uncle once more serene. And--if -you know Trowbridge's books--you can eat, too, tranquilly. - -When a boy is left alone in the world by the death of his aunt and -starts out to find his uncle in Cincinnati--if you know Trowbridge's -books--you prepare for hardship and weariness, but still occasional -sandwiches and doughnuts (but not the greasy kind). And always you -know there must be a haven in the house of the uncle in Cincinnati. -Only--if you know the Trowbridge books--you are fearful when you -get to the uncle's door, and you would a little rather the boy -went in to meet him while you waited outside. Trowbridge's uncles -are apt to be so sour as to heart, and so bitter as to tongue, and -so sarcastic in their remarks relating to boys who come in from -the country to the city in order that they--the uncles--may have -the privilege of supporting them. Though you know--if you know -the Trowbridge books--that Trowbridge's boys never come into the -city for that purpose. The heavy-tempered uncles, too, are made -aware of this before long, and change the tenor of their remarks -accordingly--and after some just pride on the part of the nephews, -all goes well. Whereupon your feeling of satisfaction is more than -that of the boy, of the uncle, of Trowbridge himself. - -But these roasted ears of corn and cold-boiled eggs are among -the lesser delights of the young-books of Trowbridge. The most -fascinating things in them are the conversations. They are so real -that you hear the voices and see the expressions of the faces. - -Trowbridge is one of the kind that listens twice and thrice to -persons talking, so that he hears the key-note and the detail, and -his pen is of the kind that can write what he hears. It is never -too much, never too little; it is not noticeable at all, because -it is all harmony. - -It is entirely and utterly common. - -And it is real. - -In the young-books of Trowbridge, and nowhere else, I have heard -boys talking together so that I knew how their faces looked, and how -carelessly and loosely their various collars were worn, and their -dubious hats. I have heard a grasping, grouty old man pound on the -kitchen floor with his horn-headed cane--he had come over while the -family were at breakfast to inform them that their dog had killed -five of his sheep, and to demand the dog's life. I have heard the -lessons and other things they said in a country school-room sixty -years ago, where boys were sometimes obliged, for punishment, to sit -on nothing against the door. I have heard the extreme discontent -in the voice of another grouty, grasping farmer when it became -evident to him that he would be obliged to give up a horse that had -been stolen before he bought him. But here I must quote, as nearly -correctly as I can without the book: - -"'And sold him to this Mr. Badger' (said Kit) 'for seventy dollars.' - -"'Seventy gim-cracks!' exclaimed Uncle Gray, aghast. 'I should -think any fool might know he's worth more than that.' - -"He was thinking of Brunlow, but Eli applied the remark to himself. - -"'I did know it,' he growled. 'That's why I bought him. And mighty -glad I am now I didn't pay more.' - -"'Sartin!' replied Uncle Gray; 'but didn't it occur to you 't no -honest man would want to sell an honest hoss like that for any -such sum?' - -"'I didn't know it,' said Eli, groutily. 'He told a pooty straight -story. I got took in, that's all.' - -"'Took in!' repeated Uncle Gray. 'I should say, took in! I know -the rogue and I'm amazed that any man with common sense and eyes -in his head shouldn't 'a' seen through him at once.' - -"'Maybe I ain't got common sense, and maybe I ain't got eyes in my -head,' said Eli, with a dull fire in the place where eyes should -have been if he had had any. 'But I didn't expect this.' - -"Kit hastened to interpose between the two men." - -Always I have been sorry that the boy interposed just there. - -I have read the book surely seven-and-seventy times. Each time -this talk over the horse comes exceeding pungent to my ears. How -impossible it is to weary of Trowbridge, because there is no effort -in the writing, and no effort in the reading, and because of a -deep-reaching, never-failing sense of humor.---- - -How flat seem these words! - -The young-books of Trowbridge can not be set down in words. What -with the simplicity, what with the quality of naturalness, what -with a delicate tenderness for all human things, what with the -rare, rare quality of commonness that is satisfying and quieting -as the vision of a little green radish-bed, what with an inner -sympathy between Trowbridge and his characters and, above all, an -inner sympathy with his readers, what with Truth itself and the -sweet gift of portraying the sunshiny days as they are--why talk -of Trowbridge? - -Is it not all there written? - -Can one not read and rest in it? - - - - -VIII - -"GIVE ME THREE GRAINS OF CORN, MOTHER!" - - -"No," said my friend Annabel Lee, "I can't really say that I care -for Trowbridge. All that you have said is true enough, but he fails -to interest me." - -"What do you like in literature?" I asked, regarding her with -interest, for I had never heard her say. It must need be something -characteristic of herself. - -"I like strength, and I like simplicity, and I like emotion, and I -like vital things always. And I like poetry rather than prose. Just -now," said Annabel Lee, "I am thinking of an old-fashioned bit of -verse that to me is all that a poem need be. To have written it is -to have done enough in the way of writing, because it's real--like -your Trowbridge." - -"Oh, will you repeat it for me!" I said. - -"It is called, 'Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother.' It is of -a famine in Ireland a great many years ago--a lad and his mother -starving." - -And then she went on: - - "'Give me three grains of corn, mother, - Give me three grains of corn, - 'Twill keep the little life I have - Till the coming of the morn. - I am dying of hunger and cold, mother, - Dying of hunger and cold, - And half the agony of such a death - My lips have never told. - - "'It has gnawed like a wolf at my heart, mother, - A wolf that is fierce for blood, - All the livelong day and the night, beside-- - Gnawing for lack of food. - I dreamed of bread in my sleep, mother, - And the sight was heaven to see-- - I awoke with an eager, famishing lip, - But you had no bread for me. - - "'How could I look to you, mother, - How could I look to you - For bread to give to your starving boy, - When you were starving, too? - For I read the famine in your cheek - And in your eye so wild, - And I felt it in your bony hand, - As you laid it on your child. - - "'The queen has lands and gold, mother, - The queen has lands and gold, - While you are forced to your empty breast - A skeleton babe to hold-- - A babe that is dying of want, mother, - As I am dying now, - With a ghastly look in its sunken eye - And the famine upon its brow. - - "'What has poor Ireland done, mother, - What has poor Ireland done, - That the world looks on and sees us die, - Perishing one by one? - Do the men of England care not, mother, - The great men and the high, - For the suffering sons of Erin's isle,-- - Whether they live or die? - - "'There's many a brave heart here, mother, - Dying of want and cold, - While only across the channel, mother, - Are many that roll in gold. - There are great and proud men there, mother, - With wondrous wealth to view, - And the bread they fling to their dogs to-night - Would bring life to me and you. - - "'Come nearer to my side, mother, - Come nearer to my side, - And hold me fondly, as you held - My father when he died. - Quick, for I can not see you, mother, - My breath is almost gone. - Mother, dear mother, ere I die, - Give me three grains of corn!' - -"What do you think," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is it not full -of power and poetry and pathos?" - -"Yes, it could not in itself be better," I replied. "And it has -the simplicity." - -"And pretends nothing," said Annabel Lee. - -"And who wrote it?" I asked. - -"Oh, some forgotten Englishwoman," said Annabel Lee. "I believe -her name was Edwards. She perhaps wrote a poem, now and then, and -died." - -"And are the poems forgotten, also?" I inquired. - -"Yes, forgotten, except by a few. But when they remember them, they -remember them long." - -"Then which is better, to be remembered, and remembered shortly, by -the multitudes; or to be forgot by the multitudes and remembered -long by the one or two?" - -"It is incomparably better to be remembered long by the one or -two," said Annabel Lee. "To be forgotten by any one or anything -that once remembered you is sorely bitter to the heart." - - - - -IX - -RELATIVE - - -"Do you think, Annabel Lee," I said to her on a day that I felt -depressed, "that all things must really be relative, and that those -which are not now properly relative will eventually become so, -though it gives them acute anguish?" - -The face of Annabel Lee was placid, and also the sea. The one -glanced down upon me from the shelf, and the other spread away into -the distance. - -Were that face and that sea relative? Surely they could not be, -since those two things in their very nature might go ungoverned. -Do not universal laws, in extreme moments, give way? - -"Relative!" said Annabel Lee. "Nothing is relative. I tell you -nothing is relative. I am come out of Japan. In Japan, when I was -very new to everything, there was an ugly frog-eyed woman who washed -me and anointed me and dressed me in silk, the while she pinched -my little white arms cruelly, so that my little red mouth writhed -with the pain. Also the frog-eyed woman looked into my suffering -young eyes with her ugly frog-eyes so that my tiny young soul was -prodded as with brad-nails. The frog-eyed woman did these things to -hurt me--she hated me for being one of the very lovely creatures -in Japan. She was a vile, ugly wretch. - -"That was not relative. I tell you that was not relative," said -Annabel Lee. - -"If I had been an awkward, overgrown, bloodless animal and that -frog-eyed woman had pinched my little white arms--still _she_ -would have been a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If I had been a vicious spirit and that frog-eyed woman had looked -into my vicious eyes with her ugly frog-eyes--still _she_ would -have been a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If I had been a hateful little thing, instead of a gently-bred, -gently-living, pitiful-to-the-poor maiden, and that frog-eyed woman -had hated me with all her frog-heart--still _she_ would have been -a vile, ugly wretch. - -"If that frog-eyed woman had stood alone in Japan with no human -being to compare her to--still the frog-eyed woman would have been -a vile, ugly wretch. - -"She has left her horrid frog-mark on my fair soul. Not anything -beneath the worshiped sun can ever blot out the horrid frog-mark -from my fair soul. A thousand curses on the ugly, frog-eyed woman," -said Annabel Lee, tranquilly. - -"Then that, for one thing, is not relative," I said. "But perhaps -that is because of the power and the depth of your eyes and your -fair soul. Where there are no eyes and no fair souls--at least where -the eyes and the fair souls can not be considered as themselves, -but only as things without feeling for life--then are not things -relative?" - -"Nothing is relative," said Annabel Lee. "If your dog's splendid -fur coat is full of fleas and you caress your dog with your hands, -then presently you may acquire numbers of the fleas. You love the -dog, but you do not love the fleas. You forgive the fleas for the -love of the dog, though you hate them no less. So then that is not -relative. If that were relative you would love the fleas a little -for the same reason that you forgive them: for love of your dog. -Forgiveness is a negative quality and can have no bearing on your -attitude toward the fleas." - -Having said this, Annabel Lee gazed placidly over my head at the -sea. - -When her mood is thus tranquil, she talks graciously and evenly -and positively, and is beautiful to look at. - -My mind was now in much confusion upon the subject in question. But -I felt that I must know all that Annabel Lee thought about it. - -"What would you say, Annabel Lee," said I, "to a case like this: If -a soul were at variance with everything that touches it, everything -that makes life, so that it must struggle through the long nights -and long days with bitterness, is not that because the soul has -no sense of proportion, and has not made itself properly relative -to each and everything that is?--relative, so that when one hard -thing touches it, simultaneously one soft thing will touch it; or -when it mourns for dead days, simultaneously it rejoices for live -ones; or when its best-loved gives it a deep wound, simultaneously -its best enemy gives it vivid pleasure." - -"Nothing is relative," again said Annabel Lee. "Nothing can be -relative. Nothing need be relative. If a soul is wearing itself -to small shreds by struggling days and nights, that is a matter -relating peculiarly to the soul, and to nothing else, _nothing_ -else. If a soul is wearing itself to small shreds by struggling, -the more fool it. It is struggling because of things that would -never, _never_ struggle because of it. In truth, not one of them -would move itself one millionth of an inch because of so paltry a -thing as a soul." - -I looked at Annabel Lee, her hair, her hands and her eyes. As I -looked, I was reminded of the word "eternity." - -A human being is a quite wonderful thing, truly--and great--there's -none greater. - -Annabel Lee is a person who always says truth, for, for her, there -is nothing else to say. - -She has reached that marvelous point where a human being expects -nothing. - -"If the days of a life, Annabel Lee," I said, "are made bright -because of two other lives that are dear to it, and if the life -happens upon a day when the thought of the two whom it loves makes -its own heart like lead, then what can there be to smooth away its -weariness, in heaven above, in the earth beneath, or in the waters -under the earth?" - -"Foolish life," said my friend Annabel Lee. "There is no pain in -Japan like what comes of loving some one or some thing. And if the -some one or the some thing is the only thing the life can call its -own, then woe to it. The things it needs are three: a Lodging Place -in heaven above; a Bit of Hardness in the earth beneath; a Last -Resort in the waters under the earth. These three--but no life has -ever had them." - -"In the end," I said, "when all wide roadways come together, and -all heavy hearts are alert to know what will happen, then will -there not indeed be one grand adjustment, and life and all become -at once magnificently relative?" - -"Never; it can't be so. Nothing is relative," said Annabel Lee, on -a day that I felt depressed. - - - - -X - -MINNIE MADDERN FISKE - - -To-day my friend Annabel Lee and I went to the theater and we saw -a wonderful and fascinating woman with long dark-red hair upon the -stage. - -She is attractive, that red-haired woman--adorably attractive. And -she reminds one of many things. - -Annabel Lee was greatly interested in her acting, and was charmed -with herself--and so was I. - -"Do you suppose she finds life very delightful?" I said to my friend. - -"I don't suppose," my friend replied, "she is of the sort that -considers whether or not life is delightful. Probably her work is -hard enough to keep her out of mischief of any kind." - -Whereupon we both fell to thinking how fortunate are they whose -work is hard enough to keep them out of mischief of any kind. - -"But there must be," I said, "some months, perhaps in the summer, -when she doesn't work. I have heard that some actors take houses -among the mountains and do their own housework for recreation." - -"I," said Annabel Lee, "can not quite imagine this woman with the -red hair making bread and scouring pans and kettles for pleasure. -But very likely she sometimes goes into the country for vacations, -and I can fancy her doing the various small enjoyable things that -celebrities can afford to do--like wading barefooted in a narrow -brooklet, or swinging high and recklessly in a barrel-stave hammock." - -"And since she is so adorable on the stage," I exclaimed, "how -altogether enchanting she would be wading in the brooklet or swinging -in the barrel-stave hammock--she with the long, red hair! Perhaps -it would even be braided down her back in two long tails." - -It is a picture that haunts me--Mrs. Fiske in the midst of her -vacation doing the small enjoyable things. - -"Of course," said my friend Annabel Lee, "we don't _know_ that she -doesn't spend her vacations in a fine, conventional, stupid yacht, -or at some magnificent, insipid American or English country house. -We can only give her the benefit of the doubt." - -"Yes, the benefit of the doubt," I replied. - -How fascinating she was, to be sure, with her personality merged -in that of Mary Magdalene! - -The Magdalene is no longer a shadowy ideal with a somewhat buxom -body, scantily draped, with indefinite hair and with the lifeless -beauty that the old masters paint. Nor is she quite the woman of -the scriptures who is presented to one's mind without that quality -which is called local coloring, and with too much of the quality -that is ever present with the women in the scriptures--a something -between uncleanness and final complete redemption. - -No, Mary Magdalene is Mrs. Fiske, a slight woman still in the -last throes of youth, with two shoulders which move impatiently, -expressing indescribable emotions of aliveness and two lips which -perform their office--that of coloring, bewitching, torturing, -perfuming, anointing the words that come out of them. Apart from -these lips, Mary Magdalene's face has a wonderfully round and -childish look, and her two round eyes at first sight give one an -idea of positive innocence. In the Magdalene's face--and in that of -an actor of Mrs. Fiske's range--these are a beautifully delicate -incongruity. - -And my friend Annabel Lee has told me that the strongest things are -the delicate incongruities--the strongest in all this wide world. -Because they make you consider--and considering, you wait. - -With such a pair of round, innocent eyes of some grayish color--who -can blame Mary Magdalene? - -In the latter acts of the play these eyes go one step farther than -innocence: they do hunger and thirst after righteousness. And, ah, -dear heaven (you thought to yourself), how well they did it! To -hunger and thirst after righteousness--not herself, but her eyes. -That was this Mary Magdalene's art. - -This Mary Magdalene, though she is indeed in the last throes of -youth--without reference to the years she may know--has yet -beneath her chin a very charming roundness of flesh which one day -obviously will become a double chin. Just now it is enchanting. -There are feminine children of seven and eight with round faces, -who have just that fullness beneath the chin, and beneath the chin -of Mary Magdalene--and added to her eyes--it carries on the idea of -innocence and inexperience to a rare good degree. Any other woman -actor would have long since massaged this fullness away. Forsooth, -perhaps this is the one woman actor who could wear such a thing -with beauty. - -Mary Magdalene's hair in its deep redness is scornful and aggressive -in the first acts of the play. In the latter acts it assumes a -marvelous patheticness. And, if you like, there is a world of -patheticness in red hair. - -If Mary Magdalene's hair were of a different color--if the bronze -shadows were yellow, or gray, or black, or brown shadows--her lips -and her shoulders were in vain. - -On the stage Mary Magdalene stands with her back to her audience--she -stands, calm and placid, for three or four minutes before the rising -and falling curtain, graciously permitting all to admire and feast -their eyes upon the red of her hair. - -"She knows," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that she can make her face -bewitching--and she knows also that her hair is bewitching without -being so made. And she chooses that the world at large shall know -it, too." - -She has will-power, has Mary Magdalene. It is her will, her strength, -her concentration of all her power to herself that makes her thus -bewitching--and that seduces the brains of those who sit watching -her as she moves upon the stage. - -She controls all her mental and physical features with metallic -precision--except her hair, and that she leaves uncontrolled to do -its own work. It does its work well. - -She has cultivated that mobileness of her lips, probably with hard -work and infinite patience--and she makes them damp and brilliant -with rouge. She rubs the soft, thick skin of her face with layers -of grease. She loads her two white arms with limitless powder. And -the two childish eyes are exceeding heavy-laden as to lid and lash -with black crayon. One experiences a revulsion as one contemplates -them through a glass. Her voice in the days of her youth had drilled -into it the power to thrill and vibrate, and to become exquisitely -tender upon occasion, and now it does the bidding of its owner with -docility and skill. Since its owner has forcefulness and a power of -selfish concentration, the voice is mostly magnetic and cold and -strong. It is magnetic and cold and strong and contemptuous when its -owner says, "My curse upon you!" When its owner's eyes do hunger and -thirst after righteousness the voice brings a miserable, anguished -feeling to the throats of those who sit listening. Every emotion -that the voice betrays is transmitted to the seduced brains of those -who sit listening. The red-haired woman works her audience up to -some torturing pitches--the while herself blandly and cold-bloodedly -earning an honest livelihood by the sweat of her brow. - -Forsooth, it's always so. - -If all the red-haired woman's scorn and anguish were real, the -audience would sit unmoved. If the red-haired woman's scorn and -anguish were real it would strike inward--instead of outward toward -the audience--and the audience would not know. If the red-haired -woman's scorn and anguish were real, it would not seem real and would -be very uninteresting. And that very likely is the reason why the -scorn and anguish of other red-haired women--and of black-haired, and -brown-haired, and yellow-haired, and gray-haired, and pale-haired -women, who are not working on the stage--is so uninteresting and -ineffectual. It is real, and they can not act it out, and so it -doesn't seem real--and you don't have to pay money to see it done. - -To make it seem real they must need go at it cold-bloodedly, and -work it up, and charge you a round price for it. - -Mary Magdalene isn't here to do this, but Mrs. Fiske takes her -place and does it for her. - -She does it exquisitely well. - -Could Mary Magdalene herself--she of the Bible--be among those who -sit watching, she would surely marvel and admire. - -Meanwhile, for myself, I have two visions of this Mary Magdalene. - -One--in one of the acts wherein her eyes do hunger and thirst after -righteousness--when she sits before a small table and lifts her -pathetic, sweet voice with the words, "When the dawn breaks, and -the darkness shall flee away"; and then she stands and the red hair -is equally pathetic and twofold bewitching, and she says again, -"When the dawn breaks, and the darkness shall flee away." And the -other vision is of her in the country in the midst of a summer day, -under a summer sky, swinging high and recklessly in a barrel-stave -hammock. - - - - -XI - -LIKE A STONE WALL - - -My friend Annabel Lee has told me there are bitterer things in -store for me than I have known yet. - -Times I have wondered what they can be. - -"When you have come to them," said my friend Annabel Lee, "they -will be so bitter and will fit so well into your life that you will -wonder that you did not always know about them, and you will wonder -why you did not always have them." - -"The bitterest things I have known yet," I said, "have had to do -with the varying friendship of one or another whom I have loved." - -"Varying friendship?" said Annabel Lee. "But friendship does not -vary." - -"No, that is true," I rejoined. "I mean the varying deception I -have had from some whom I have loved." - -"In time," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will love more, and -your deceiving will be all at once, and bitterer. It will be a rich -experience." - -"Why rich?" I inquired. - -"Because from it," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will learn to -not see too much, to not start out with faith, in fact, to take the -goods that the gods provide and endeavor to be thankful for them. -Your other experiences have been poverty-stricken in that respect. -They leave you with rays of hope, without which you would be better -off. They are poor and bitter. What is to come will be rich and -bitterer. Their bitterness will prevent you from appreciating the -richness of them--until perhaps years have come and taken them from -immediately before your eyes. As soon as they are where you can not -see them, you can consider them and appreciate their richness." - -"Whatever they may be," I made answer, "I do not think I shall ever -be able to appreciate their richness." - -"Then you will be very ungrateful," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I looked hard at her--and she looked back at me. There are times -when my friend Annabel Lee is much like a stone wall. - -"Yes," said my friend Annabel Lee, "if you ever feel to express -proper gratitude for the good things of this life, be sure that you -express your gratitude for the right thing. Very likely you will -not have a great deal of gratitude, and you must not waste any of -it--but what you do have will be of the most excellent quality. For -it will accumulate, and the accumulation will all go to quality. And -the things for which you are to be grateful are the bitternesses -you have known. If you have had it in mind ever to give way to -bursts of gratitude for this air that comes from off the salt sea, -for that line of pearls and violets that you see just above the -horizon, for the health of your body, for the sleep that comes to -you at the close of the day, for any of those things, then get rid -of the idea at once. Those things are quite well, but they are not -really given to you. They are merely placed where any one can reach -them with little effort. The kind fates don't care whether you get -them or not. Their responsibility ends when they leave them there. -But the bitternesses they give to each person separately. They give -you yours, Mary MacLane, for your very own. Don't say _they_ never -think of you." - -"I've no intention of saying it," said I. - -"You will find," said my friend Annabel Lee--without noticing my -interruption, and with curious expressions in her voice and upon -her two red lips--"you will find that these bitternesses come from -time to time in your life, like so many milestones. They are useful -as such--for of course you like to take measurements along the -road, now and again, to see what progress you have made. Along some -parts of the road you will find your progress wonderful. If you -are appreciative and grateful, at the last milestone you have come -to thus far you will express your measure of gratitude to the kind -fates. That is, no--" said my friend Annabel Lee, "you will not -do this _at_ the milestone, but after you have passed it and have -turned a corner, and so can not see it even when you look back." - -"But why shall I express gratitude there?" I inquired in a tone -that must have been rather lifeless. - -"Why?" repeated my friend Annabel Lee. "Because you will have grown -in strength on account of these milestones; because you will have -learned to take all things tranquilly. Why, after the very last -milestone I daresay you would be able to sit with folded hands if -a house were burning up about your ears!" - -"Which must indeed be a triumph," said I. - -"A triumph?--a victory!" said my friend Annabel Lee--with still more -curious expressions. "And the victories are not what this world -sees"--which reminded me of things I used to hear in Sunday-school -ever so many years ago. "You remember the story of the Ten Virgins? -Taking the story literally," said my friend Annabel Lee, "the lot -of the five Foolish Virgins is much the more fortunate. There was -a rare measure of bitterness for them when they found themselves -without oil for their lamps at a time when oil was needed. They gained -infinitely more than they lost. As for the five Wise Virgins--well, -_I_ wouldn't have been one of them under _any_ circumstances," -said my friend Annabel Lee. "Fancy the miserable, mean, mindless, -imaginationless, selfish natures that could remain unmoved by the -simplicity of the appeal, 'Give us of your oil, for our lamps are -gone out.' It must now," said my friend Annabel Lee, "be a hundred -times bitterer for them to think of being handed down in endless -history as demons of selfishness--and they are now where they can -not, presumably, measure their bitterness by milestones of progress." - -"So then, yes," said my friend Annabel Lee--"whatever else you -may do as you go through life, remember to save up your gratitude -for the bitternesses you have known--and remember that for _you_ -the bitterest is yet to come." - -"Have _you_, Annabel Lee," I asked, "already known the bitterest -that can come--and can _you_ sit with your hands folded in the -midst of a burning house?" - -"Not I!" said my friend Annabel Lee, and laughed gayly. - -Again I looked hard at her--and she looked back at me. - -Certainly there are times when my friend Annabel Lee is like a -stone wall. - - - - -XII - -TO FALL IN LOVE - - -"I loved madly," said my friend Annabel Lee. "There came one down -out of the north country that was dark and strong and brave and -full of life's fire. All my short life had been bathed in summer. I -had dreamed my thirteen years beneath cherry-blossoms upon a high -hill. - -"But at the coming of this man from the north country I opened my -two sloe-eyes, and the world turned white--exquisite, rapturous, -divine white. - -"And afterward all was heavy gray. - -"Away from the high hill of the cherry-blossoms there lay a stretch -of red barren waste with towering rocks--and beyond that a quiet, -quiet sea that was only blue. - -"At the left of the high hill of the cherry-blossoms there was a -mountain covered with green ivy--dark green ivy that defined its -own green shape against the brilliant yellow sky behind it. Green -and yellow, green and yellow, green and yellow, said the sky and -the mountain covered with ivy. - -"The high hill of the cherry-blossoms was colored with all the -colors of Japan. - -"I lived there with people--my mother and my father and some -others--all with pale faces and sloe-eyes. - -"But some of them were very ugly. - -"Then came one down out of the north country that was dark and -strong and brave and full of life's fire. - -"He was ugly, but his face was perfect. - -"Straightway I fell in love with this one. Of all things in Japan, -what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"Where the red barren waste lay spread below me I saw manifold -softnesses, like a dove's breast, like a fawn's eyes, like melted -lilies, and the towering, gloomy rocks were the home of violet -dreams. - -"In the deep green of the ivy mountain my soul found rest at nightfall -among mystery and shadow. It wandered there in marvelous peace. -And the coolness and damp and the low muttering of the wind and -the night birds went into it with a stirring, powerful influence. -Also the voices out of the very long ago came from among the green, -dark ivy, and from the crevices of gray stones beneath it, and they -told me true things in the stillness. - -"From the deepness of the brilliant yellow sky--the yellow of -burnished brass--there came legion earth-old contradictions. -And wondrous paradox and parallel that had not been among the -cherry-blossoms appeared to me as my mind contemplated these. I -said, Am I thus in love because that I am weak, or that I am strong? -For I see here that it is both weakness and strength. And I said, -Am I myself when I do this thing? or was that I who lived among -the cherry-blossoms? I said, Who am I? What am I? - -"Below all there was the blue, broad sea. This sea gave out a white -mist that rose and spread over the earth. I knew that I was in -love, once and for all. - -"The world was white. The world was beautiful. The world was divine. - -"Life shone out of the mist unspeakable in its countless -possibilities. Voices spoke near me and infinite voices called to -me from afar--they sounded clear and faint and maddening-soft and -tender, and the soul of me answered them with deafening, joyous -silent music. - -"He from the north country that was dark and strong and brave and -full of life's fire came, some days, to the high hill of the -cherry-blossoms. He spoke often and of many things. He spoke to -people--to my mother and to my father, and to others. And rarely he -spoke to me. Rarely he looked at me. He had been in the great world. -He knew wonderful women and wonderful men. He had been touched with -all things. - -"What a human being was he! - -"And of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"When three days had gone my heart knew rapture beyond any that it -had dreamed. It knew the mysteries and the fullnesses. - -"After three days the world turned to that divine white, and was -white for seven days. - -"And afterward all was heavy gray. - -"The one from the north country returned back to the north country. - -"Of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"I was not in love with this one because he was a man, or because -he was strange and fascinating--but because he was a glorious human -being. - -"My heart was not turned to this one to marry him. Marrying and -giving in marriage are for such as are in love unconsciously. - -"To see this one from the north country--to hear his voice--that -was life and all for me--life and all. - -"But he was gone. - -"He left a silence and a weariness. - -"These came and crowded out the white from my heart, and themselves -found lodgment there. - -"And all was heavy gray. - -"The picture of life and the mystery and shadow that was revealed -to me when the world was white has never gone. It has filled me -in the days of my youth with an old terror. - -"Of all things in Japan, what a thing it is to fall in love! - -"To fall in love!"--said my friend Annabel Lee, the while her two -eyes and her two white hands, in their expression, their position, -told of a thing that is heart-breaking to see. - - - - -XIII - -WHEN I WENT TO THE BUTTE HIGH SCHOOL - - -"There was a time," I said to my friend Annabel Lee, "when I went -to the Butte High School. I think of it now with mingled feelings." - -"You were younger then," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"I was younger, and in those days I still looked upon life as -something which would one day open wide and display wondrous and -beautiful things for me. And meanwhile I went every day to the -Butte High School. I found it a very interesting place--much more -interesting than I have since found the broad world. I was sixteen -and seventeen and eighteen, and things were not brilliantly colored, -and so I made much with a vivid fancy of all that came in my path." - -"And what do you, now that you are one-and-twenty?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"I sit quietly," I replied, "and wish not, and wait not--and look -back upon the days in the Butte High School with mingled feelings." - -"Also unawares," said my friend Annabel Lee, "you still think things -relating to that which is one day to open wondrously for you. But, -never mind," she added hastily, as I was about to say something, -"tell me about the Butte High School." - -"'Twas a place," said I, "where were gathered together manifold -interesting phenomena, and where I studied Vergil, and grew fond -of it, and was good in it; and where I studied geometry, and was -fond of it, and knew less about it each day that I studied it;--and -always I studied closely the persons whom I met daily in the Butte -High School. I recall very clearly each member of the class of -ninety-nine. My memory conjures up for me some quaint and fantastic -visions against picturesque backgrounds that appeal to my sense of -delicate incongruity, especially so since viewed in this light and -from this distance." - -"What are some of them?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"There is one," said I, "of a girl whom always in my mind I called -The Shad, for that she was so bland, and so flat, and so silent,--and -she had a bad habit of asking me to write her Latin exercises, which -perhaps was not so much like a shad as like a person; and there -is one of a girl who spent the long hours of the day in writing -long, long letters to her love, but knew painfully little about the -lessons in the class-rooms; and there is one of a girl who brought -to school every day a small flask of whiskey to cheer her benighted -hours,--she was daily called back and down by the French teacher -on account of her excessively bad French, and life had looked dull -for her were it not for the flask's pungent contents; there is one -of a strange-looking, tawny-headed girl who sat across the narrow -aisle from me in the assembly-room during my last year in school, -who kept her desk neatly piled with the works (she called them -works) of Albert Ross--and after she had read them, very kindly she -would lean over and repeat the stories, with quotations verbatim, -for my benefit;--her standing in her classes was not brilliant, -but in Albert Ross she was thorough; there is one of a clever, -pretty girl who was malicious--exquisitely malicious in all her -ways and deeds, and seemingly no thought entered her head that was -not fraught with it,--she was malicious in algebra, malicious in -literature, malicious in ancient history, malicious in physical -culture, malicious in the writing of short themes--and when it so -chanced that I made a failure in a recitation, or was stupid, she -would look up at me and smile very sweetly and maliciously; and -there is one of a girl whose quaint and voluble profanity haunts me -still. And especially there is in my memory a picture of all these -on our graduating day, receiving each a fine white diploma rolled -up and neatly tied with the class colors--a picture of these and -the others,--we were fifty-nine in all. And the diplomas stated -tacitly, in heavily engrossed letters, that we had all been good -for four years and had fulfilled every requirement of the Butte -High School. So we had, doubtless--but how much some of us had done -for which in our diplomas we were not given credit! In truth, -nothing was stated in them, in engrossed lettering, about courses -in love-letters, or profanity, or malice, and Albert Ross was not -in the curriculum. - -"And the president of the school board doled out those diplomas, -with a short, set speech for each, one wet June day--but he was -not aware how insignificant they were. - -"And my mind likewise conjures up a vision of two with whom I -used to take what we called tramps, during our last year in the -High School--far down and out of Butte, on Saturdays and other -days when school was not. I remember those two and those tramps -exceeding well--nor can I think with but four years gone that the -two themselves have forgotten. One of these was an individual whose -like I have not since known. She reminded me sometimes of Cleopatra -and sometimes of Peg of Limmavaddy. She was of Irish ancestry and -had a long black mane of hair braided down behind, and two conscious -and lurid eyes of the kind that is known as Irish blue. She had -brains enough within her head, but did not study overmuch. Her -ways of going through life were often very dubious. She weighed a -great many pounds. Her experience of the world was large, and to -me she was fascinating. For herself, she was always rather afraid -of me--so much afraid, in truth, that if I said a funny thing she -must need laugh--with a forced and fictitious merriment; if I told -her she had no soul, she must need agree with me abjectly, though -she was a good Catholic; if I frowned upon her, she shivered and -was silent. Fanciful names and frocks (though this lady's frocks -were always fanciful in ways) were selected for these tramping -expeditions. This one's fanciful name was called Muddled Maud. For -no particular reason, I believe--but she wore it well. The other -member of our trio was of a less extraordinary type. She was stout -as to figure, and she knew a great deal about some things. She was -very good in history, and at home she could make pie and cake and -bread. It is true that her cake sometimes stuck, and sometimes sank -in the middle, and when she carved a fowl she could not always hit -the joints. And she was one of the kind that always pronounces -picture, "pitcher." She was also known as a very sensible girl. I -can see her now with a purple ribbon around her neck and a brown -rain-coat on coming into the High School on a wet morning. When we -went tramping she usually wore an immense gray-white, mother-hubbard -gown, belted in at the waist, and a wide flat hat, which made her -look rather like a toad-stool. Her fanciful name was Emancipated -Eva. Emancipated, in truth, she was. In the High School she was -dignified and sedate, but on our tramps she would frequently skip -like a young lamb, and frisk and gambol down there in the country. - -"She who was called Muddled Maud likewise frisked and gamboled--and -always she personified my idea of the French noun _abandon_. - -"Also I frisked and gamboled in those days far down in the country. - -"The fanciful name selected for me was Refreshment Rosanna--and I -can not tell why. But it was thought a good name for a lady tramp. -We started on these tramps at six in the morning. We would rise -from our beds at five, and at ten minutes before six I would meet -Muddled Maud at the corner of Washington and Quartz streets, below -her house. Together we would go down east Park street to the home -of Emancipated Eva. Then we walked seven miles or eight away into -the open and the wild. - -"We took things along to eat--sometimes a great many things and -sometimes a few. Times Muddled Maud would have but a curious-looking -jelly-roll, and Emancipated Eva would come laden with hard bits -of beef, and I could show but a plate of fudge. But other times -there were tarts and meat-pies and turnovers, and deviled ham and -deviled chicken and deviled veal and deviled tongue and deviled -fish of divers kinds, and some bottles of nut-brown October ale, -and sardines _a l'huile_, and green, green olives. Only the more -there was, the harder to carry. But, times, Muddled Maud would -carry much with little effort--she would adorn herself with the -luncheon--a long bit of sausage-link about her neck like a chain, -and upon her hat, held securely with bonnet-pins, fat yellow lemons, -and two bananas crossed in front like the tiny guns on a soldier's -hat, and bunches of Catawba grapes scattered here and there, and -pears hanging by their little stems behind. - -"The too early morning prevented all from being seen by the -inhabitants of Butte, and we did not venture home again until came -the friendly darkness. - -"Those were fascinating expeditions--and whose was the glory? Mine -was the glory. 'Twas I who invented them. 'Twas I who knew there was -none so fitted for a so delicate absurdity as she we called Muddled -Maud; and after her, none so fitted as the fair, the good-natured, -the Emancipated; and together with them both, I. And I led them -forth, and I led them back, and I said things should be thus and -so, and straightway they were thus and so. And we enjoyed it, and -clear air was in our lungs and life was in our veins, for we had -each but eighteen years and were full of youth. But most of all -'twas fascinating because we were three of three widely differing -manners of living and methods of reasoning. For I was not like -Emancipated Eva, nor yet like Muddled Maud; and Emancipated Eva -was not like me, nor yet like Muddled Maud; and Muddled Maud was -not like Emancipated Eva, nor yet like me. - -"To be sure, there were some things in my ordering which neither -the one nor the other found enchanting. Why should the MacLane do -all the ordering? they murmured between themselves, but they dared -not openly revolt, so all went well. - -"But now these are gone. - -"The three of us were graduated from the Butte High School with -the fifty-nine others of ninety-nine, and had each a fine white -diploma, and went our ways. - -"She who was like Cleopatra and Peg of Limmavaddy is teaching a -school, according to the last that I heard, in the north of Montana; -and she that was Emancipated Eva has long since gone to California, -and is married, and keeps a house; and for me--I am here, far off -from Butte, with you, Annabel Lee, some things having been done -meanwhile. - -"But though the two are gone, I warrant they have not forgotten. -They have not forgotten the Butte High School, nor the class of -ninety-nine, nor the tramps we went, nor their tyrant, me. - -"And I daresay they all remember their Butte High School--she of the -love-letters, she of the whiskey-flask, she the student of Albert -Ross, she of the profanity, she of the malice, The Shad,--and all the -nine-and-fifty, the young feminine persons and the young masculine -persons. Some are married, and some are flown, and some of them are -grown up and different, 'and some of them in the churchyard lie, -and some are gone to sea.' - -"But whenever I've a fancy to shut my eyes and look back, I can -see them all, a quaint company. - -"Also, whenever I've a fancy to shut my eyes and look back to life -when it was unspeakably brilliant in possibilities to look forward -to, and was marked in parti-colored checks and rings, it fetches -me to the days when I went to the Butte High School and studied -geometry and Vergil. Only I'm glad I'm not there now." - -"What for?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"It is rather pitiful and dreadful to think of having been seventeen, -and to have gone every day to the Butte High School and imagined -how wonderful-beautiful life would be some day," said I, and all -at once felt very weary. - - - - -XIV - -"AND MARY MACLANE AND ME" - - -There are times in a number of days when my friend Annabel Lee -and I enjoy a cigarette together. My friend Annabel Lee, with her -cigarette, her petite much-colored form wrapped round in clouds of -thin, exquisite gray, is more than all suggestive and inscrutable. -She leans her two elbows on something and looks out at me. - -I with my cigarette am nothing but I with my cigarette. I enjoy -it, but am not beautiful with it, nor fascinating. - -But my friend Annabel Lee is all that my imagination can take in. -Under the influence of the thin, exquisite gray she grows fanciful, -and subtly and indefinitely she meets me somewhere, and extends -me her hand for a moment. - -"Don't you know," said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, -"that old song that goes: - - 'Mary Seaton, - And Mary Beaton, - And Mary Carmichael, - And me'? - -I think it is Mary Stuart of Scotland who says that. And a fair -good song it is. But just now, for _me_, if I were Mary Stuart of -Scotland, you poor miserable little rat, I should say: - - 'Mary MacLane, - And Mary MacLane, - And Mary MacLane, - And me.' - -For aren't we two together here, calmly smoking--and doesn't the -world spin round?" - -I was enchanted. How few are the times when my friend Annabel -Lee is like this, warm and friendly and lightly contemptuous and -inclined to grotesquerie. - -'Tis so that she becomes human and someway near to me. - -"Yes, I should say Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, -and me," said my friend Annabel Lee from her gently-puffed clouds. -"There are times when you are soft and satisfying as a gray pussy-cat. -If I stroke you, you will purr. If I give you cream, you will lap -it up. And then you will curl up warmly in my lap and sleep and -purr and open and shut your little fur paws. - - 'I will sit by the fire - And give her some food, - And pussy will love me - Because I am good.' - -What literature is more literature than Mother Goose?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. "And will you love me--because I am good? Has -it occurred to you that you must love what is good and because it -is good, you poor, miserable, little rat,--and that you must hate -what is evil? Look at me, look at me!--am I good?" - -I looked at her. Certainly she was good. Just then she had a look -of angels. - -"Do you love me?" said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette. - -"Oh, yes," said I. - -"Look at me again--am I evil?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"I presume you are," I replied, for then she looked vindictive and -vicious. - -"And do you hate me?" - -"No," said I. - -"Then you are very bad and wicked yourself, you poor, miserable, -little rat," said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, "and -the world and all good people will condemn you." - -"I fear," said I, with my cigarette, "that the world and all good -people already do that." - -"Ah, do they!" said my friend Annabel Lee. "Never mind--I will take -care of you, you poor, miserable, little rat; I will make all soft -for you; I will keep out the cold; I will color the dullness; I -will fight off the mob." - -"And I," I replied, "if for that reason you do so, will thank the -world and all good people for condemning me." - -"That was neatly said," said my friend Annabel Lee. "But let me tell -you, when the world grows soft, I will grow hard--hard as nails." - -"Then let the world stay hard," I said--"hard and bitter as wormwood, -if it will, so that you come indeed thus friendly to me through -these gray clouds." - -"That, too, was very neat," said my friend Annabel Lee; "but mostly -it goes to show that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. -What literature is more literature than the proverbs? What is a -bird in the hand worth?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Two in the bush," said I. - -"Where does charity begin?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"At home," said I. - -"What does it cover?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A multitude of sins," said I. - -"What's a miss as good as?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A mile," said I. - -"What makes the mare go?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Money," said I. - -"Whom does conscience make cowards of?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Us all," said I. - -"What does a stitch in time save?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Nine," said I. - -"When are a fool and his money parted?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Soon," said I. - -"What do too many cooks spoil?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The broth," said I. - -"What's an idle brain?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The devil's workshop," said I. - -"What may a cat look at?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A king," said I. - -"What's truth stranger than?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Fiction," said I. - -"What's there many a slip betwixt?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The cup and the lip," said I. - -"How do birds of a feather flock?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Together," said I. - -"What do fools do where angels fear to tread?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"Rush in," said I. - -"What does many a mickle make?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A muckle," said I. - -"What will the pounds do if you take care of the pence?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. - -"Take care of themselves," said I. - -"What do curses do, like chickens?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Come home to roost," said I. - -"What is it that has no turning?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A long lane," said I. - -"What does an ill wind blow?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Nobody good," said I. - -"What's a merciful man merciful to?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"His beast," said I. - -"What's better to do than to break?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Bend," said I. - -"What's an ounce of prevention worth?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"A pound of cure," said I. - -"What's there nothing half so sweet in life as?" said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"Love's young dream," said I. - -"What does absence make?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"The heart grow fonder," said I. - -"How would a rose by any other name smell?" said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"As sweet," said I. - -"How did the Assyrian come down?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Like a wolf on the fold," said I. - -"What were his cohorts gleaming with?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Purple and gold," said I. - -"What was the sheen of their spears like?" said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"Stars on the sea," said I. - -"When?" said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee," said I. - -"All of which proves," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that I've but -to fiddle and you will dance, you poor, miserable, little rat. And -my thought is, what is it better to be than second in Rome?" - -"First in a little Iberian village," said I. - -"But I'm not sure whether it is or not," said my friend Annabel Lee. -"Some day you and I will go out into the great, broad world. Then -we shall see who will be first and who will be second. The great, -broad world is the best place of all wherein to find ourselves. -And no matter how we were situated before, we shall certainly be -situated differently in the great broad world. In the great broad -world there will be apples--apples enough for you and for me. But, -who knows? you poor miserable little rat; it may be that your lot -will be _all_ the sweet, juicy apples, whilst I shall be given the -cores. In the great broad world there will be ripe-red-raspberry -shortcake--enough for you and for me. But, who knows? you poor -miserable little rat; it may be that your lot will be all the ripe -red raspberries, whilst I shall be given the crusts. In the great -broad world there will be cigarettes--cigarettes enough for you -and for me. But, who knows? You poor miserable little rat; it may -be that your lot will be _all_ the fine Egyptian tobacco and rice -paper and clouds and clouds and clouds of pearl gray, soft pearl -gray, to wrap you round, whilst I shall go looking in empty boxes -all day long, and never a cigarette. In which case mine will be -by far the better lot in the end," said my friend Annabel Lee, -"according to the law of compensation." - -"Oh, dear!" said my friend Annabel Lee, petulantly; "why do you sit -there stupidly staring? Talk and amuse me, why don't you? Make me -feel sweet and content." - -"If I were but that myself, Annabel Lee," said I. "I can not talk -interestingly, but if you like I will ask you the proverbs and you -may answer them. That amused me much--and it gave me a wonderful -feeling of satisfaction, quite as if I were seven years old and -knew my lesson perfectly." - -"You ask and I answer?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "Very good. -But I don't know my lesson perfectly. Begin." - -"What's a bird in the hand worth?" said I. - -"A pound of cure," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does a stitch in time save?" said I. - -"Two in the bush," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Where does charity begin?" said I. - -"Betwixt the cup and the lip," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What may a cat look at?" said I. - -"The broth," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does many a mickle make?" said I. - -"A multitude of sins," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What do too many cooks spoil?" said I. - -"Us all," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Whom does conscience make cowards of?" said I. - -"Dead men and fools," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What is it that has no turning?" said I. - -"A full stomach," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What fortifies a stout heart?" said I. - -"A stitch in time," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What does money make?" said I. - -"An ill wind," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What will the pounds do if you take care of the pence?" said I. - -"Come home to roost," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Where is there many a slip?" said I. - -"Where angels fear to tread," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's sharper than a serpent's tooth?" said I. - -"The pen," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's mightier than the sword?" said I. - -"A rich man," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What makes the mare go?" said I. - -"A fool and his money," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What should they do who live in glass houses?" said I. - -"Draw down the blinds," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's a man's castle?" said I. - -"The devil's workshop," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's better to do than to break?" said I. - -"Rob Peter," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's the wind tempered to?" said I. - -"The camel's back," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What do many hands make?" said I. - -"A shorn lamb," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What can't you make out of a pig's ear?" said I. - -"A gift-horse," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What should you never look in the mouth?" said I. - -"A silk purse," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"What's half a loaf better than?" said I. - -"Chickens before they are hatched," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"But let's not play this any more," said my friend Annabel Lee. -"I'm languid and weary. Can't you talk to me--and talk so that I -may feel rested and comfortable? And don't stare!" - -"I fear I can't amuse you. I am sorry," said I. "You may envy me, -Annabel Lee. You have not Annabel Lee to look at. Would not life -look rich and full to you if you could see before you your own -vague, purple eyes, and your red red lips, and those hands of power -and romance--you, with your scarlet gown and the gold marguerites -coming near and fading away in mist?" - -"No, not particularly," said my friend Annabel Lee. "I rather -like _your_ looks," she added, and her purple eyes became less -vague--"sitting there in your small black frock; and you puff at -that tobacco much like a toy engine. Come, you amuse me--you please -me. Come near me." - -She held out one of her hands and the purple eyes changed suddenly -into something that was rarely and indescribably friendly. - -I felt much from life. - -My friend Annabel Lee rested the hand she had held out upon my -shoulder. - -"When we go into the great, broad world, Mary MacLane," she said, -"and you have all the apples, and all the ripe-red-raspberry -shortcake, and all the cigarettes, then perhaps will you _share_ -them with me?" - -I said I would. - - - - -XV - -A STORY OF SPOON-BILLS - - -When the mood takes my friend Annabel Lee she will, if I beg her, -tell me quaint and fantastic stories, such as are hidden away in -the dusty crevices of this world. These tales have lain away there -for centuries, and spiders have spun webs over and about them, so -that when, perchance, they are brought out, bits of fine gray fiber -are to be found among the lines. - -Yesterday a pretty, plain story by my friend Annabel Lee that runs -through my mind. - -"Long ago," said my friend Annabel Lee, "there lived in Egypt a -family of well-born but poorly-bred Spoon-bills in a green marsh by -the side of the great green river Nile. This family numbered five, -and they were united and dwelling in peace. There were the father -and mother and two daughters and a son. And there had been another -son, but he was dead. And their names were Maren Spoon-bill, the -mother; and Oliver W. Spoon-bill, the father; and Lilith Spoon-bill, -the elder daughter; and Delilah Spoon-bill, the younger daughter. -And the son's name was Le Page Spoon-bill. - -"The son who had died was named Roland Spoon-bill. He was buried at -the edge of the marsh, and his name and the date were carved upon -a square, black, wooden tablet to his memory at the head of the -grave. There was also this legend upon the tablet: 'Age 15. Gone -in the hey-day of youth to his last rest. But his virtues are with -us still.' - -"And little Delilah Spoon-bill, who was an elementary, fanciful -child of nine, used to stand staring at this legend and wondering -about it. A weeping willow hung low over the grave, and Delilah -would stand near it picking gnats from its branches with her bill, -and speculating about the legend. She wondered for one thing what -'hey-day' meant. Was it anything like a birth-day? Or was it, on -the contrary, a day when everything went wrong and ended by a -person's being shut into a dark bed-room? Or was it, perhaps, a -picnic day--with tarts made of red jam? In that case Delilah felt -very sorry for her brother that he should have died on such a day, -for if there is an article of diet that spoon-bills really like it -is tarts of red jam--made the way Canadians make them. - -"But she never could decide. - -"And another thing about the epitaph that puzzled her was the -concluding clause--'but his virtues are with us still.' What could -virtues be? she asked herself. Were they anything like feathers, or -were they good to eat, or were they something she had never seen and -knew nothing about? But the letters said plainly, 'his virtues are -with us still.' Truly, if they were among the family possessions, -why had she not seen them? For anything that belonged to any of the -Spoon-bill family that was at all out of the ordinary was always -placed in an oak cabinet with glass doors that stood in a corner -of the hall in their marsh home. Delilah had often looked in this -cabinet to see if the virtues of her brother were not there. There -were dried snake skins, and curious white stones, and Spanish moss, -and devil's snuff-boxes--but no, there were no virtues. Of that -she was convinced. She appealed to her older sister. 'Lilith,' -said Delilah, 'what _are_ virtues, and where do we keep Roland's? -Don't you know, on the tombstone it says, "his virtues are with -us still."' - -"'Aren't you a silly!' said Lilith, laughing in Spoon-billish -derision. Lilith was twelve, and one knows vastly more at twelve -than at nine. 'Virtues aren't anything. And as for Roland's--that -doesn't mean that he left them with us, any more than that he took -them with him.' - -"'Then what _does_ it mean?' said Delilah. 'I've thought so much -about it.' - -"'You'll have to think some more,' said Lilith--'a good deal more, -I should say--of _your_ kind of thinking!' - -"Delilah did not often appeal to her sister in these matters. She -did not enjoy Lilith's habit of laughing. In truth, she didn't enjoy -being laughed at at all--not the least in the world. She was like -a great many other people. - -"And so was Lilith. - -"But oh, there were many things that Delilah wished to know! - -"The Spoon-bill family was, as I have said, well born but poorly -bred. Maren Spoon-bill and Oliver W. Spoon-bill both came of very -good stock, but they had been the black sheep of their families and -had forgotten the traditions and customs of their race. 'They had -left no more pride,' Maren Spoon-bill's mother once said, 'than a -sand-hill crane--no, nor a duck.' - -"'No, nor a duck,' echoed Maren Spoon-bill and her husband, and -gloried in it. - -"And the children ran wild. - -"But the children, though they ran wild, were not without ambition. -On summer evenings, when the family took tea on the back porch and -it was too warm for the children to run about much, they used to -sit and tell their ambitions. - -"'I'm going to be an actress when _I_ get big,' declared Lilith. -'I'm going to have a splendid career on the stage, and I shall earn -heaps of money. And I shall have magnificent clothes, and every one -will look at me and say, "_Isn't_ she in stunning form to-night!"' - -"And Le Page and Delilah were so overcome by the vision thus presented -of their sister that they could but stare, awed and silent. - -"And Delilah wondered how it must seem to be so very clever. - -"But Le Page, who was eleven years old himself, soon rallied. - -"'Well, then,' said he, 'when _I_ get big I'm going to be a -pirate. I'll lay over all the pirates that ever were, a-firing and -a-pillaging--and I'll wear magnificent clothes, and everyone will -look at me and say, "_Isn't_ he in stunning form to-night!"' - -"Delilah thought this latter sounded strangely like Lilith--but -perhaps in some subtle way a pirate was like an actress, and so -must need be described in the same terms. - -"'And Delilah,' said her father, 'what shall you be--what kind of -clothes are you going to wear?' - -"Delilah had before tried the experiment of relating her ambition -to the assembled family, and the result had been bad. The high -laughter of Lilith and Le Page always rose on the still evening air, -and even her father, who was a kind person, would smile. Delilah's -ambition was always the same, but she nearly always varied it a -little at each telling--and the amusement evinced by her sister -and brother varied accordingly. - -"Sometimes they even flapped their wings. - -"Which was too cruel. - -"Forsooth, children are always cruel. - -"But while Delilah's ambition was always the same, those of Lilith -and Le Page covered an exceeding wide range. Some evenings Lilith -would draw a glowing picture of herself as a lecturer of renown -with a wonderful personal magnetism and a telling style--she would -move the multitudes and draw tears from stony eyes by lifting up -her voice. Whereupon Le Page, when he had recovered his breath, -would portray himself as a celebrated scientist delving in marvelous -chemical mysteries and discovering things of untold benefit to the -race. He also would move the multitudes and draw tears from stony -eyes. - -"And Delilah would wonder what were lecturers and scientists, and -how they could do these things. - -"And when Lilith would announce her intention of becoming a famous -sculptor whose work in the passionate would be the delight of her -day, then Le Page would turn his mind to the idea of becoming a -noted explorer who would penetrate into Darkest Africa and Farthest -North, and whose work in the passionate would be the delight of -his day. - -"And Delilah would marvel still more. - -"Forsooth, children are always like that--and fascinating they are. - -"And each summer evening after Lilith and Le Page had related their -ambitions, their father would ask Delilah what was hers. Then always -Delilah would whisper; 'I'm going to study tombstones, papa! And -when I get big perhaps I shall know what every single tombstone in -the world means. And perhaps after I've studied a long time and -hard I can read Roland's right off and know what it means without -thinking. And perhaps I can explain them all to people who don't -know about them.' - -"Which to Delilah was a daring ambition indeed--quite hitching -her wagon to a star. - -"Well, then," said my friend Annabel Lee, "this was when the -Spoon-bill family was in its youngness. - -"The years followed one after another, and the three children grew. -And it came about that Lilith was three-and-twenty, and Le Page -was two-and-twenty, and Delilah was twenty. - -"They were much as they had been when they were children. Lilith, -I may say in passing, was not an actress, nor a lecturer, nor yet -a sculptor--and Le Page was merely Le Page. - -"Also Delilah was Delilah, but had ceased to be elementary in some -ways, while in others she was still, and so would be until the -finish. - -"It so happened that a young spoon-bill of masculine persuasion, -from the other side of the great green river Nile, fell in love -with Delilah. - -"Likewise Delilah fell in love with a young spoon-bill, but not -that young spoon-bill. - -"It happens frequently so. - -"And Delilah did not fancy the spoon-bill from the other side of -the river, and the spoon-bill with whom Delilah was in love did -not fancy her in just that way. - -"Which also happens frequently. - -"On a day when the river Nile was very green, and heavy -sickening-sweet flowers of dead white color hung from black trees -on the banks, and the sky was, oh, so blue, and all was summer, the -young spoon-bill from over the river would come to see Delilah. He -loved so well--so hopelessly--that young spoon-bill! But Delilah -on such a day would walk where the green water was shallow, and -her thoughts would be with the young spoon-bill who had gone to -her heart. - -"And the young spoon-bill from over the river would come and stand -a little way from Delilah under a tree with broad thick leaves. How -fine was he to look upon, with his white feathers glistening like -silver and his eyes of topaz! - -"And Delilah was most adorable with feathers of soft, soft gray--a -so soft gray that one, if one were human, would wish to rest one's -forehead upon the fluffy down of her breast. - -"Then he from over the river--his name was Gerald Spoon-bill--would -say: 'Delilah, come with me over the river to the damp meadows, -where there is a pool with a thousand pond-lilies, and fair blooms -the way. We should be happy there, you and I.' - -"But Delilah would say: 'Oh, go back over the river, Gerald -Spoon-bill! You and I never should be happy together. Why do you -stand there by the rubber-tree day after day? And why do you waste -your life-nerves and your heart-nerves? Why are you not giving your -good heart to some one who can take it?' - -"'But you would be happy with me, Delilah,' he under the dark -leaves would answer her eagerly. 'We will stand in the midst of a -new day and watch the sun come up out of the sand--we will stand -in pale shallows at midday--we will feel our hearts beat high when -the lightnings come down through branches--we will fly a little in -high winds--we will stand still and silent in the midst of golden -solitudes when the sun is going off the sand--and in all these -things my heart will be yours.' - -"'Go back over the river, Gerald Spoon-bill!' said Delilah. - -"But Gerald Spoon-bill felt that he loved so well that he could -not go back over the river. - -"'Tis not possible to go back over the river when one's best-loved -is standing by herself in green shallows. - -"Then along the bank from the direction of the date palms came -Auden Spoon-bill, he who had gone to Delilah's heart. Likewise he -was good to see--not from the handsomeness of his feathers or his -eyes, but from the strength of his physical being. Though, too, -his eyes were of amethyst. - -"Auden Spoon-bill went along parallel to the shore of the river -until he saw Delilah standing in the pale green water. Then he -crossed over and came toward her. - -"'There are lotus flowers blooming down below where the steep -cataract breaks over stones,' said he. 'Delilah, will you come with -me to eat some?' - -"'Oh, yes, I will come,' said Delilah, eagerly. - -"For she still was elementary enough to say things eagerly. - -"So they went down to where the lotus-flowers grew, where the steep -cataract broke over stones. - -"It so happened that it was almost the time when the great green -river Nile flows out over its banks and makes all wet with water -for miles around. At such a time it was the custom of Spoon-bills -and cranes and adjutant-birds and others of their ilk, and animals -of divers kinds, to leave their homes and move away out of reach of -the green and purple flood. But no one had thought of moving yet, -for it was too early in the season. Maren Spoon-bill and Oliver W. -Spoon-bill had not even begun to gather up their household goods, -nor had they, as their wont was, removed the black tablet from -the head of Roland Spoon-bill's grave, which was on the very edge -of the river. - -"The river-god is a person of whims like the rest of us. And so -that year, on the day that Delilah and Auden Spoon-bill went down -the river to eat lotus flowers, he gave vent to one of them. He -thought to send a premonition of the yearly flood in the shape of -one beautiful green and purple and white wave, one which would not -go so very far but which should be damaging in its effects. - -"'Delilah,' said Auden Spoon-bill, 'since we are here eating lotus -flowers, life is very fine, isn't it?' - -"'Oh, very fine--yes, very fine,' said Delilah, and was thrilled. - -"'You are a so dear friend,' said Auden Spoon-bill. - -"'Yes,' said Delilah, and was not thrilled. - -"'Life,' said Auden Spoon-bill, 'is pretty fine, no matter how it -is arranged.' - -"'But life is a very strange thing,' said Delilah. 'I can't begin -to tell you how strange I have found it. For one thing, I may have -what is not my heart's desire, and what is my heart's desire I may -not have.' - -"'It is strange,' admitted Auden Spoon-bill. 'But why have any -heart's desires aside from what is already yours in this fine, fair -world?' - -"'One can not rule one's heart,' cried Delilah. 'One's heart goes on -before one's mind can stop to think. One's heart rushes in before -everything. One's heart plays with brilliant-colored things when -all else is dead-color. One's heart loves----' - -"But Delilah never finished. Before their eyes rose up a magnificent -wall--a wall of water that was fire and cloud and silver, and in -it were ineffable rainbows of the purple that gathers up the soul -in its brilliance and shows it wondrous possibilities; and in it -were lines of the pale lavender that caresses the senses--and one -breathes from it almost a fragrance of heliotrope; and in it were -broad sheets of deep black and dazzling white that were of the -seeming of life and death; and in it, last of all, was a world of -infinite green: it had come from a place of great things; it had -come to a place where all went down before it, where lives exulted -but shrank from it because of its green. - -"An exquisite whim, was that of the river-god. - -"Delilah and Auden Spoon-bill gazed for a brief moment. They saw -the magnificent things. They saw death in the brilliancies, but -nevertheless their spirits rose high. They saw also a wild flight -of live things before the wave. Delilah beheld her family--Lilith -and the rest--struggling and half-covered with water, and their -home made of reeds was loosed from its foundations and borne down -the river. - -"Presently the flood overtook themselves and the life of Delilah -was merged in water. She was borne high on a dark swell, and at -the turning was suddenly struck a stunning blow upon the gray of -her breast by a square black wooden tablet. - -"Before death came to her out of the brilliancies she was conscious -of several things. She saw before her eyes for an instant with -startling plainness the words on the tablet, 'Gone in the hey-day -of youth to his last rest. But his virtues are with us still.' - -"She even fancied for the first time that she knew what it meant. - -"'The hey-day of youth,' she murmured to herself, 'is the day I -go to eat lotus flowers with my best-beloved--and virtues are two -eyes of amethyst that are with me still as I am drowning.' - -"Auden Spoon-bill was drowning together with her.-- - -"That's all of the story," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Thank you," said I. "It is lovely in its quaintness. What does it -mean, Annabel Lee?" - -"Mean?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "I didn't say it meant anything." - -"But I suppose," said I, "everything that's true means something." - -"Very likely," said my friend Annabel Lee. "But this story isn't -true. I made it up." - -Because it isn't true, or for some other reason, the story still -runs in my head. How like my friend Annabel Lee it is! - - - - -XVI - -A MEASURE OF SORROW - - -"But though you are equally as beautiful as Poe's Annabel Lee," I -said to my friend Annabel Lee--"and half the time I think you are -the same one--still when I read over the poem in my mind I find -differences." - -"You find differences," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'It was many and many a year ago, - In a kingdom by the sea, - That a maiden there lived whom you may know - By the name of Annabel Lee. - And this maiden she lived with no other thought - Than to love and be loved by me.' - -The first four lines," said I, "do very well, for it doesn't matter -how long ago you lived--and who can tell? But--I fancy you live -with other thoughts than that mentioned." - -"I fancy I do," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'I was a child, and she was a child, - In this kingdom by the sea; - And we loved with a love that was more than love, - I and my Annabel Lee-- - A love that the winged seraphs in heaven - Coveted her and me.' - -The first line might stand," said I, "for you are only fourteen, and -I but one-and-twenty--which is quite young youth when compared to -the age of the earth. But the third and fourth lines are appalling. -And, alas, you are not my Annabel Lee. Always you make me feel, -indeed, that nothing is mine. And no, surely the winged seraphs in -heaven do not envy you and me for anything." - -"If they do," said my friend Annabel Lee, "then heaven must needs -be very poorly furnished." - -I repeated: - - "'And this was the reason that long ago, - In this kingdom by the sea, - A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling - My beautiful Annabel Lee, - So that her high-born kinsman came - And bore her away from me, - To shut her up in a sepulcher - In this kingdom by the sea.' - -I imagine, times," said I, "that a chill wind has sometime come -out of a cloud by night and gone over you. No high-born kinsman -comes to carry you away--but I shiver at the possibility. Will a -high-born kinsman come to carry you away--shall you be shut into -a gray stone sepulcher?" - -"No kinsman, high-or low-born, is coming to carry me away," said -my friend Annabel Lee. "Kinsmen do not carry away things that have -no intrinsic value." - -"No, I believe they don't," said I, and felt relieved. - -I repeated: - - "'The angels, not half so happy in heaven, - Went envying her and me, - Yes! that was the reason, (as all men know - In this kingdom by the sea,) - That the wind came out of the cloud by night, - Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.' - -But no," said I; "the angels in heaven are surely more than half -so happy as you and I." - -"More than half," said my friend Annabel Lee. "They need not send -clouds from heaven on that account." - -I repeated: - - "'But our love it was stronger by far than the love - Of those who were older than we, - Of many far wiser than we; - And neither the angels in heaven above, - Nor the demons down under the sea, - Can ever dissever my soul from the soul - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.' - -If you loved anything," said I, "'twould be stronger by far than -that of some who are older, and of very many who may be wiser." - -"I don't think wisdom and age have to do with it," said my friend -Annabel Lee. - -"And the angels in heaven would count for very little in it," said -I. - -"No, certainly not the angels in heaven," said my friend Annabel -Lee. - -"Nor the demons down under the sea?" I asked. - -"I don't know about _them_," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -I repeated: - - "'For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; - And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes - Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; - And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side - Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride - In her sepulcher there by the sea, - In her tomb by the sounding sea.' - -The first lines," said I, "are well-fitting. For you are like to -the moon and stars, and they are like to you. You are with them -in the shadow-way. And if you were out by the sea in a gray stone -sepulcher I should stay there near you, in the night-tide and -the day-tide. You would be there--and my heart would set in your -direction still." - -"More than it had set before," said my friend Annabel Lee. "For -everything escheats to the sea at last. Those persons," said my -friend Annabel Lee, "who have measures of sorrow which can be joined -with the sea are the most fortunate persons of all. Those measures -of sorrow will serve them well and will stand them in good stead on -days when all other things desert them. If a measure of sorrow is -joined with the sea it belongs to the sea--and the sea is always -there. - -"The sea," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is like a letter from some -one whom you have written to after a long silence, who you thought -might be dead. - -"The sea is the measure of sorrow, and the measure of sorrow is -the sea. Having once had a measure of sorrow joined with the sea, -your measure of sorrow will never be separated from the sea. - -"The measure of sorrow will sink all of its woe deep into the sea, -and the sea will be of the same color with it. For a measure of -sorrow is sufficient to color a great sea. - -"The sea will give to the measure of sorrow a bit of wild joy. -There is no joy in the world like that of the sea--for there is -enough in it to come out and touch all things in life, and life -itself. And the wild joy will stop short only of a scene of death. -If a life is joined with the sea, in spite of all the weariness, -all the anguish, all the heavy-days of unrest, and all the futile -struggling and wasting of nerves, there will yet be a wild joy in -it all, and thrill after thrill of triumph in extreme moments. - -"Those measures of sorrow that are not joined with the sea must -do for themselves. - -"And for these reasons, those persons who have measures of sorrow -that can be joined with the sea are the most fortunate persons of -all." - - - - -XVII - -A LUTE WITH NO STRINGS - - -The most astonishing thing about my friend Annabel Lee is that, -young as she is, she seems except for some thing in the past to -be absolutely in the present. She does not build up for herself -things in the future. The future is a thing she looks upon with -contempt. She has not a use for it--except perhaps to help form a -bitter sentence of words. - -The present she finds before her, and she lifts it up and places it -upon a table before her and opens it as if it were a book--a book -with but two pages. She seems to find symbols and figures and faint -suggestions upon these two pages from which she derives a multitude -of ideas and fancies and material to make bitter sentences of -words. - -It seems to interest her, and it interests me to rare degrees. - -She dwells upon the present. - -She talks of things in the present with inflections of voice that -are in sharp contrast to the sentiments she utters. The while the -expression of her face is inscrutable. Taken by and large, she is -an inscrutable person. I wonder while I listen, does she herself -believe these things?--or is she talking to amuse herself? But -perforce I feel a vein of truth in each thing that she says. I look -hard at her to discover signs of irony or insincerity--but I can -but feel a vein of rancorous truth, or a vein of friendly truth, -or a vein of ancient truth, or curious. - -Then, as she is talking and in the same moment I am wondering, I -consider: What matters it whether or not any of it is true, or -whether or not she believes it, or whether or not I can understand -it--since _she_ is saying it. Is she not an exquisite person telling -me these things in her exquisite voice? - -She carries all before her in the world. - -For she and I make up a small world. - -If she be not brilliant in her talking, then that is because that -set of sentences would be ruined by brilliancy. - -If she be not profound in her discoursing, then that is because -her fancy at the time dwells in the light fantastic and would be -ruined by profoundness. - -If she be not logical, that is because she is exquisite, which is -quite beyond logic. - -Nevertheless, when she says what is simple and plain and stupid the -look of her face is more than all the look of one saying brilliant -things. - -And when she touches lightly upon one thin fancy and another the -look of her lily face is above all things profound. - -And when her mood and its expression are most reckless of logic -the look of her face is the model of one giving out platitudes in -all open candor and reasonableness. - -I have been led by these looks of her face to see some varying -visions of my friend Annabel Lee. - -One is a vision of her as a capable, elderly maiden aunt, one who -stands ready in sickness and in health to do for me, and cooks -little meat pies for me, and tells me when I'm spending too much -money, and what to do for a cold. - -One is a vision of her as a playful child-companion who is with me -in all my summer days, and shares all her quaint thoughts with me, -and asks me countless questions and accepts my dictum as gospel. - -One is a vision of her as a sister--one of that kind who has the -best of all things in life whilst I must take the poor things; one -of the kind that is to be married to a count from over the seas, and -I must work and hurry to get her frocks ready for the wedding--and -then go back to live in a small, dead village all the days of my -life. - -One is a vision of her as the quiet martyr-sister who comes at my -call and retires at my bidding--and in this part my friend Annabel -Lee walks with exceeding beauty. - -One is a vision of her as a strong elderly friend who stands between -me and all icy blasts, who lays out my daily life, who quiets my -foolish excitement with her calmness and wisdom. - -One is a vision of her as one who knows no law, who leads me in -strange highways and byways, and whose mind for me is a labyrinth -wherein I walk in piteous confusion. - -One is a vision of her as an extremely wicked person whom I regard -with fear, whom it behooves me to hate, but whom I love. - -One is a vision of her as a woman of any age who is, above all, -uncompromising and unsympathetic. If I am joyous, she is placid; if -I am heavy of heart, she is placid; if I am full of anticipation, -she is placid; if I am in despair, she is placid. - -One is a vision of her as a shadow among shadows. She is not real, I -say to myself. One day I shall awake and find her vanished--without -pain and without "sadness of farewell," and as if she had not been. - -One is a vision of her as one who is in the world and of the world, -and like the rest of the world. And when I contemplate her thus -my thought is, the best thing of all is to be in the world and of -the world, and like the rest of the world,--to have the quality -of humanness, to know the world so well as to be able to select -the best of its treasures, and to make useful that in it which is -useless. - -But all these visions are vapory. There is not one of them that is -my friend Annabel Lee. 'Tis the expressions of her lily face that -give me these visions--not that which she says nor that which she -does. In truth she is, in some way, like all the visions, but each -is mingled so much with herself that the type is lost. - -And my friend Annabel Lee, though she sits with the book of the -two pages open before her and seems much interested in all that -she finds in it, has yet the look of one who, if any one asked to -borrow the book from her, would close it quickly and give it up -readily with no regret. And after she had given away the book, it -seems as if she would pick up a flower from somewhere near, and -twirl the stem in her thumb and finger, and glance out the window. - -Not that she has a contempt for the present as for the future, but -that it seems she is not dependent on the book of the two pages -for her thought of it. - -But also there is method in her contempt for the future. For she -deigns to consider that the future becomes the present, as one day -follows after another. But she touches it not in good faith until -it is indeed the present. - -My friend Annabel Lee, times, sits playing upon a little, old lute. - -"The future," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is like a lute with no -strings. You cannot play upon such a lute and fill the long, long -corridors in your brain with the thin, sweet, meaningless music. -You can but sit stupidly staring into the cavity and thinking how -joyous will be the music that shall come forth some day, as from -time to time your lute is strung with strings--whereas you might -better at that moment go out into your garden and fill the cavity -with tomatoes and make haste with them to market. And while you sit -dreaming over your stringless lute, in your impatience you press -upon the stops and press too much and too often, so that when at -last your lute is strung the stops will not work right, but will -stick fast in one position. And when your other hand touches the -strings there will be horrible discord--always horrible discord. - -"I have never," said my friend Annabel Lee, "yet seen any one -dreaming over an unstrung lute who did not finger the stops." - -Having said this, my friend Annabel Lee gazed out over my head at -the flat, green Atlantic sea, and her hand went upon and about her -lute-strings, and there came out music. And the stops worked right, -like stops that had not been tampered with in the lute's unstrung -days. - -And the music that came out was like yellow wine to the head, and -went not only into the corridors but into the towers as well, and -low down by the moat and within and without the outer wall, and -into the dungeon where had not been music before. - - - - -XVIII - -ANOTHER VISION OF MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -And I have a vision of my friend Annabel Lee as a princess in a -tall, tall castle by the side of the sea--a castle made of dull red -granite that glows a gorgeous crimson in the light of the setting -sun. - -And all day long there is no sign of life about the dull red castle, -and also the winds are low and the blue water is very quiet. Far -down the shore are only a few gulls flying, and wild ducks riding -on the waves. - -There is nothing moving on the jagged rocks for miles about the red -castle, but there are growing in crevices some wild green weeds that -are full of fair sweet life. And all day the sky is pale blue. - -The windows in the red castle are of thick, dark glass and are grated -and mullioned and set about with iron. The look of these windows -is rigid and bitter and it shuts out everything that is without. - -The battlements of the castle are high and narrow and fearsome-looking -and dark and very sullen. Were I upon the battlements I would gladly -plunge off from them down upon the rocks, some hundreds of feet, -and be dashed to pieces--or into the deep sea. But below there is -a turret and a belfry, but no bell, and the turret is a sheltered -and safe retreat looking out upon all. One who had not been content -before in the world might be at last content within the turret of -this tall, red castle by the side of the sea. - -Away at the meeting of the sea and the sky there is a narrow line -that is not pale blue like the sky nor dark blue like the sea, but -is only pale thin air. And I look at it expecting to see--But in -the bright daylight I never know what I expect to see in the line -of thin air at the meeting of the pale and the dark. - -And so then all day everything is dead quiet, and my friend Annabel -Lee is a princess inside the red castle. - -How fair a princess is my friend Annabel Lee! - -I fancy her in a beautiful white gown embroidered with gold threads. -The gown is long and narrow and fits closely about the waist, and -trails on the ground. And upon the left forefinger of the princess -a great old silver ring set with an unpolished turquoise. - -The rooms inside the red castle are fit rooms for such a princess. -They are dark and high and narrow, and are adorned with frescoes -and wall-paintings, and the thick windows of dark glass shine with -marvelous, myriad coloring where the light shows through. Before -some of the windows bits of cut glass are hung, and these catch -the sunbeams and straightway countless rainbows fall upon the gown -and the hands and the hair of the princess. - -When the sun sets a great bar of deep golden light falls from afar -upon the red castle, and it becomes magnificent with crimson. The -dark glass of the windows glows like old copper. The battlements -are tipped with gold, and all is like a great flower that has but -just bloomed. - -After the sun has set and the crimson has faded once more from the -red castle, and the copper from the windows, and before the light -of day has gone, the sea and the sky take on different shades and -different meanings, and the gulls and the wild ducks come up from -far down the shore, and the rocks echo with their wild noises. The -sky is full of flying cloud-racks and the water rises high and -has crests of white foam. - -But the line at the horizon looks still the same. - -Then the princess in her white gown opens a door high up in the -tall castle and comes out under the turret. She comes forward to -the railing and leans upon it with her fair chin resting in her -hand. - -I see her there across a long stretch of dark water, her white frock -gleaming in the pale light--so high up and all--and a multitude of -thoughts come upon me. - -The princess looks at the thin line of sky opposite her, and looks -so steadfastly that I turn my eyes from her and look there also. - -And now there are manifold scenes there. - -There is a scene of a knight going forth to do battle, with his -black charger and his shining steel armor. And he wears an orange -plume in his helmet. His going is a brave thing. He is in the rising -of his youth and strength. And for this reason I--and the princess -on the turret--can see him falling gloriously in a fierce battle, -with death in his veins, and the charger wandering off with no rider -into the night. And the princess looks with envy upon one who can -go forth and fall in battle. - -There is a scene of a young woman in a small room working hard and -persistently by a dim light at some exquisitely fine needlework upon -an immense linen oblong. And her shoulders are bent and her eyes -are strained and her hands are weary and her nerves shattered and -crying out. But she does not leave off her work. She and her work -are like an ant carrying away a desert grain by grain, and like one -miserable person building up a pyramid, and like one counting all -the stars. One does not know whose is the linen or why she works, -or whether money will be given her for it. But one may know that -verily she will have her reward. Such people working like that in -small rooms, and all, with wearied nerves, always have their reward. -And the princess on the turret looked out at the woman as if she -with her linen and her needle were the fortunate one. - -There is a scene of French Canadians cutting hay and raking it early -in the summer afternoon--women and men. The day is so beautifully -hot and the perfume of the grass is so sweet that a tall red castle -by the side of the sea is the dreariest place of all. The princess -looks out from her turret with desolate purple eyes. She looks at -the ring upon her forefinger--and together with her I wonder why -all people were not made French Canadians making hay in the fields. -Over their heads is the air of the green French Canadian country; -under their feet is the soft French Canadian hay. And they have -appetites for their food. - -There is a scene of a child playing in the mud under a green willow. -She has a large pewter spoon to dip up great lumps of mud, and she -takes up the lumps in her two hands and pats them and shapes them -and lays them down in rows on a shingle. Water runs down through -the meadow near by where she sits and she dips it up also in the -spoon to thin out the mud. The rows of mud-cakes on the shingle are -very neat and arranged with infinite care. The princess forgets -to envy the child and her mud-cakes in the interest she takes in -the making of them. Her face and her purple eyes even take on an -indefinite look of contentment in that she is in the same world -with so fit a thing. - -Having looked long at the visions the princess takes her eyes from -the line of thin sky and looks down into the tumbled dark water. - -When all is seen, says the princess, there is nothing better than -wild, dark water that is too vast to be measured and that is good -for a thousand of years, and that contains yet as good fish as ever -came out of it. It gives up pink shells upon the sand in the kindness -of its heart, and it sends wild whistling gales up to the pinnacles -of my red castle to sing for me and to tell me many stories. And -it has wild winds wandering in and upon the high walls and caves -along its rugged coast--and if I knew not that they were winds I -would surely think them the voices of sea-maids singing--high, thin, -piercing voices mingled with the sound of long, washing waves. And -it gives out dreary lonesome cries--a loon calling in the night -mists a mile away, and wild geese honking--so that I know there -are things in it and upon it a hundred times wilder and lonesomer -than I. And it sends good ships driving against these great rocks, -and dashes them to pieces, and human beings go down with them to -rest for a thousand of years in the depths, so that I know it loves -human beings well, and has need of them. In the forenoon of a day -in July it melts my heart with its glad, warm sunshine and dazzles -my eyes and fills me with comfort--and I know that life is a safe -thing. When all is seen, says the princess, there is nothing better. - -Thus I have a vision of my friend Annabel Lee as a princess in a -tall, red castle by the side of the sea. - -But neither is this my friend Annabel Lee. For she is more fascinating -still, and her castle is even taller, and a deeper red--and more -than all she is herself. - - - - -XIX - -THE ART OF CONTEMPLATION - - -Yesterday my friend Annabel Lee and I sat comfortably opposite each -other at a small table, eating our luncheon. She was very fair -and good-natured--and we had tiny broiled fish, and some tea with -slices of lemon in it, and bread, and green lettuce sprinkled over -with vinegar and oil and red pepper, and two mugs of ale. - -"Food is a lovely thing, don't you think?" said I. - -"One of the best ever invented," said my friend Annabel Lee. "Have -you considered how _much_ would be gone from life if there were no -food, and if we had not to eat three times every day?" - -"Yes, I've considered it," I replied, "and it's a pleasure that -never palls." - -"It is so much more than pleasure," said my friend Annabel Lee. "It -is a necessity and an art and a relaxation and an unburdening--and, -dear me, it brings one up to the level of kings or of the beasts -that perish. - -"I have fancied," said my friend Annabel Lee, "a deal table set -three times every day under a beautiful yew-tree in a far country. -The yew-tree would be in a pasture where cattle are grazing, and -always when I sat eating at the deal table the cows would stand -about watching me. Sometimes on the deal table there would be brown -bread and honey; sometimes there would be salt and cantaloupe; -sometimes there would be lettuce with vinegar and pepper and oil; -sometimes there would be whole-wheat bread and curds and cream in -a brown earthen dish; sometimes there would be walnuts and figs; -sometimes there would be two little broiled fish; sometimes there -would be peaches; sometimes there would be flat white biscuits and -squares of brown fudge; sometimes there would be bread and cheese; -sometimes there would be olives and Scotch bannocks; sometimes -there would be a blue delft pot of chocolate and an egg; sometimes -there would be tea and scones; sometimes there would be plum-cake; -sometimes there would be bread and radishes; sometimes there would -be wine and olives; sometimes there would be a strawberry tart. - -"I should live over the hill from the yew-tree, and I should come -there to eat at seven o'clock in the morning, and at one in the -afternoon, and at seven in the evening. And meanwhile I should be -busy at some work so that my eating would be as if I had earned -it." - -"What sort of work would you do?" I asked. - -"I might wash fine bits of lace," said my friend Annabel Lee, "and -lay them out upon a sunny grass-plot to bleach and dry. Or I might -pick berries and take them to market. Or I might sit in a doorway -making baskets--I should make beautiful little baskets. Or I might -care for a small garden, or a flock of geese--to feed them with -grains and keep them from straying away. 'So many hours must I tend -my flock, so many hours must I sport myself, so many hours must I -contemplate'--I should do all these things while tending my flock, -and I should tend my flock well. I should do all my work well, so -that the food on the deal table, under the yew-tree, would taste -as if it had been earned. - -"But would it not be strange," said my friend Annabel Lee, eating -daintily of lettuce and fish, "after I had had this way of living -in a country of always-summer for six months or seven months--oh, I -should grow vastly weary of it! And not only should I grow weary of -the garden or the geese or the baskets, and the deal table under the -yew-tree, but I should grow weary of everything the fair green world -could anyway offer. In the so many hours that I should contemplate -I should arrive at this: there can be nothing better in the way of -living than caring for a garden or a flock of geese, and going up -a hill to a yew-tree to eat three times every day--_nothing_, if -I do my work faithfully. So then when the gray dawn should break -some morning and I should awaken and find an aching at my heart, -I should know that the best had failed me, and I should see the -Vast Weariness with me. 'Hast thou found me out, oh, mine enemy!' -would run over and over in my mind. And all that day the tending -of the flocks would be a hard thing, and the apples on the deal -table under the yew-tree would turn to dust in my mouth." - -My friend Annabel Lee laid down her small silver fork, and placed -her hands one upon another on her knee, and sat silent. - -Oh, she was a beautiful, brilliant person sitting there! I wondered -hazily as I watched her how much of the day's gold sunshine she -made up for me, and how much would vanish were she to vanish. - -Presently she talked again. - -"Much depends," said my friend Annabel Lee, "upon the amount of -contemplation that one does in one's way of living, and upon how -one's contemplation runs. Contemplation is a thing that does a -great deal of mischief. But I daresay that when it as an art is -made perfect it is a rare good thing and a neat, obedient servant, -and knows exactly when to enter the mind and when to leave it. And -whosoever may have it, thus brought to a state of perfection, is a -most fortunate possessor and must need go bravely down the world. - -"Perhaps, now," said my friend Annabel Lee, "when one is a goose-girl -and goes to eat at a deal table under a green yew-tree, one should -contemplate only kings in gilded palaces. One should begin at -the beginning of a king's life, it may be, and follow it step by -step through heaviness and strife until one sees, in one's vivid -goose-girl fancy, the king at last tottering and white-haired and -forsaken toward his lonely grave. - -"Or else one should contemplate the life of a laborer who must eat -husks all his days, and is not worthy of his hire, and goes from -bad to worse and becomes a beggar. - -"Or else one should contemplate the being of a sweet maid whose -life is a fair, round, rose garden, and the thorns safely hidden -and the stems pruned, and all. And one should likewise follow her -step by step to her grave, or, if one so fancies, to the culmination -of all happiness and success. - -"For the idea is that in all one's contemplation, when one is a -goose-girl, one should contemplate anything and everything except -the being and condition of a goose-girl. - -"But a better idea still," said my friend Annabel Lee, "would be to -not contemplate at all, you know, but eat the radishes and other -things, under the yew-tree, and rejoice. - -"At any rate," said my friend Annabel Lee, "we need not contemplate -_now_--what with these two little fishes and these green, crisp -leaves." - -She picked up her small silver fork again and went to eating -lettuce. - -And presently we both lifted our mugs of good ale and drank to that -which would be a better idea still. - - - - -XX - -CONCERNING LITTLE WILLY KAATENSTEIN - - -I had one day given my friend Annabel Lee the bare outline of the -facts in a case, and I asked her if she would kindly make a story -from it and tell it me. - -So my friend Annabel Lee told me a little story that also runs in -my mind, someway, in measure and rhythm. - -"There lived in a town in Montana," said my friend Annabel Lee, -"not very long ago, in a quiet street, a family of that sort of -persons which is called Jewish. And it is so short a time ago that -they are there yet. - -"Their name was Kaatenstein. - -"There was Mrs. Kaatenstein and Mr. Kaatenstein and the four -young children, Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny -Kaatenstein and little Willy Kaatenstein. - -"And there was the hired girl whose name was Emma. - -"And there was Uncle Will, Mrs. Kaatenstein's brother, who lived -with them. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein was short and dark and sometimes quite cross, and -she always put up fruit in its season, with the help of the hired -girl, and the kitchen was then very warm. - -"And Mr. Kaatenstein was also dark, but was a tall, slim man, and -was kind and fond of the children, especially the two little girls. -Mrs. Kaatenstein was fond of the children also, but mostly fond of -the two boys. - -"And Harry Kaatenstein was much like his mother, only he was not -so dark, and he was ten years old. - -"And Leah Kaatenstein was ten years old also--the two were twins--and -she had an eye for strict economy, and wore plain gingham frocks, -and had a long dark braid of hair, and played with very homely -dolls. - -"And Jenny Kaatenstein was seven years old and was most uncommonly -fat, and was rarely seen without a bit of unleavened bread in her -hand--for the children were allowed to have all that they wanted of -unleavened bread. They did not want very much of it, except Jenny. -And they all preferred to eat leavened bread spread with butter -and sprinkled with sugar--but they couldn't have as much as they -wanted of that. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein was only four and pronounced all his -words correctly and seemed sometimes possessed of the wisdom of -the serpent. He had very curly hair, and it seemed an unwritten -law that whenever a grown-up lady passed by and saw the children -playing on the walk in front of their house she must stop and -exclaim what a pretty boy little Willy was and ask him for one of -his curls. Whereat little Willy would stare up into the grown-up -lady's face in a most disconcerting fashion and perhaps ask her -for one of _her_ curls. Or if the groceryman or the butcher would -stop on his way to the kitchen and ask little Willy what was his -name and how old was he, little Willy would answer with surprising -promptness, and directly would ask the groceryman or the butcher -what was _his_ name and how old was _he_. - -"And Emma, the hired girl, was raw-boned and big-fisted and -frightfully cold-blooded and unsympathetic. And she had a sister -who came to see her and sat in the hot kitchen talking, while Emma -pared potatoes or scrubbed the floor. The sister's name was Juley, -and she sometimes brought strange, green candy to the children, -which their mother never allowed them to eat. And sometimes Juley -brought them chewing-gum, which they were not allowed to chew. - -"And Uncle Will was a short, stout man, with a face that was nearly -always flushed. He seemed fond of beer. There were a great many -cases of beer in the cellar which belonged to Uncle Will. And there -were cases full of beer-bottles that had all been emptied, and the -children would have liked to sell the bottles, but they were not -allowed to sell bottles. Uncle Will was also fond of little Willy, -and on summer evenings when he and Mr. Kaatenstein were at home, -and after they had eaten dinner, Uncle Will might have been heard -inviting little Willy, in his hoarse, facetious voice, to come and -have a glass of beer with him. And when little Willy, with his short -curls and his small white suit, would come and just taste of the -beer and would make a wry mouth and shed a few abortive tears over -its bitterness, Uncle Will would laugh very heartily and jovially -indeed. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein had a great many ducks and geese in the back-yard -and spent much time among them, fattening them to eat and fussing -over them, in the forenoons. So the children never played there in -the forenoon. - -"There were a great number of things that the Kaatenstein children -were not allowed to do--the things they were allowed to do were -as nothing by comparison, and the things they were allowed to do -were, for the most part, things they did not care about. - -"They had each a square iron bank in which were ever so many silver -quarters and dimes and half-dollars and nickels and gold pieces, too, -for they were a Jewish family. Their father and their Uncle Will -kept dropping coins into the little slits in the tops of the banks -from time to time, and friends of the family would also kindly -contribute, and their uncles and aunts would send money for that -purpose all the way from Cincinnati. So there was wealth in these -banks, but the children were not allowed to have any of it. And -they were never given any money 'to throw away buying things,' as -their mother said, except a nickel once in a long while--one nickel -for the four of them. - -"And there were toys that their father and mother and Uncle Will -had bought for them, and others that were sent by the uncles and -aunts in Cincinnati, but they were never allowed to play with them. -The toys were kept in a large black-walnut bureau in their mother's -bed-room. There was a small, tinkling piano that Leah Kaatenstein's -Aunt Barbara had sent to her, or that had been sent to her parents -in trust for her. And there was a little engine, that would run on -a track, which had once been given to Harry Kaatenstein. And there -was an immense wax doll which had fallen to Jenny Kaatenstein's -lot. And little Willy Kaatenstein was the reputed owner of a small -mechanical circus with tiny wooden acrobats and horses and a musical -box beneath the platform. And there were other toys of all kinds; -for the relatives in Cincinnati had been lavish. But the children -were not allowed to make use of them, so they languished in the -black-walnut bureau. - -"And Harry Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that his mother had -given him, but he was not allowed to wear it or even look at it. -It was kept in a jewel-case in her bed-room. - -"And Leah Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that her grandmother -in Cincinnati had sent, but she was not allowed to wear it or even -look at it. It was kept in her mother's jewel-case. - -"And Jenny Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that her aunt Rebecca -had sent, but she was not allowed to wear it or even look at it. -It was kept in her mother's jewel-case. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein had a fine gold watch that Uncle Will -had bought for him--and Uncle Will, who was a privileged character -in the house, would sometimes take little Willy's watch from -Mrs. Kaatenstein's jewel-case and give it to little Willy to wear -in the evening when the family was gathered in the dining-room. -And Uncle Will would drink his beer and ask little Willy what time -was it. But before Mrs. Kaatenstein put little Willy to bed she -replaced the watch carefully in the jewel-case. - -"The children had a great many such possessions, but what they really -had to play with was a small, much-battered wagon which they put to -many uses in the course of a day. Sometimes it was a fire-engine, -and sometimes a hose-cart, and sometimes a motor-car, and sometimes -a carriage, and sometimes an ambulance, and sometimes a go-cart for -Leah Kaatenstein's homely dolls (which by some strange chance were -hers to do with as she would--they were not of excessive value), and -sometimes for a patrol wagon, and sometimes for a water-cart. They -had also a little rocking chair with which they played house on the -porch. Both the chair and the wagon were much overworked and were -most pathetic in appearance. The children often grew weary of playing -always with these two things and languished for other amusement. -Sometimes Leah Kaatenstein subsided into the rocking chair with -her homely dolls in her lap and talked to them seriously, telling -them many things which would be of use to them all their lives and -instilling into them strict rules of economy. And sometimes Harry -Kaatenstein sat on the lowest step of the porch with the nozzle of -the long, rubber hose, which was attached to the faucet at the side -of the house, and with which Mr. Kaatenstein or Uncle Will watered -the grass in the evening. The children were not allowed to water -the grass, but there was usually water enough trickling from the -hose for Harry Kaatenstein to make little whirlpools on the steps, -which he did, causing loss of life among bugs of divers kinds. And -sometimes Jenny Kaatenstein, with her inevitable bit of unleavened -bread, sat on the top step, moon-faced and pudgy, resting from her -labors. And sometimes little Willy Kaatenstein climbed up and sat -upon the post at the bottom of the stoop and kicked it viciously -with his heels. He often sat there kicking, as could be plainly -seen by the dents in the post. - -"One warm day the Kaatenstein children were thus languishing -after having played hard with the wagon, and Emma was ironing -in the kitchen. Their mother was away for the afternoon and the -children had a delightful sense of freedom, even with the grim, -big-fisted Emma in charge. Only they wished they had a nickel. Harry -Kaatenstein said that if they had a nickel he should certainly go -down to Grove's, a block and a half away, and purchase some brown -and white cookies. At which little Willy Kaatenstein and Jenny -Kaatenstein--more especially Jenny Kaatenstein--smacked their lips, -and Leah Kaatenstein sighed and remarked that Harry's extravagance -was very discouraging. - -"Presently, wonderful to relate, Emma appeared around the corner, -from the kitchen, with four thick slices of bread-and-butter slightly -sprinkled with sugar, and the children gazed very eagerly in her -direction. Jenny Kaatenstein dropped her piece of unleavened bread -and half-started to meet Emma, but thought better of it, knowing -Emma's ways. Emma distributed the slices of bread, and fastened -little Willy Kaatenstein's hat on more firmly with the elastic -under his chin, and informed the children that if they knew what -was good for themselves they would not get into any mischief while -_she_ had charge of them. Then she went back to her ironing. - -"The children were delighted with their bread-and-butter, and their -imagination played lightly about it. - -"'My bread-and-butter's raspberry ice-cream,' said Harry Kaatenstein. - -"'_My_ bread-and-butter's _choc'late_ ice-cream,' said Leah -Kaatenstein, waxing genial. - -"'_My_ bread-and-butter's _vanilla_ ice-cream,' said Jenny Kaatenstein. - -"But little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, for his -bread-and-butter seemed very good to him _as_ bread-and-butter. - -"Their bread-and-butter someway put new life into them and made -them more fully awake to the fact that their mother was away for -the afternoon. After all, they were not afraid of any one but their -mother, and she being gone, should they not enjoy life for once? - -"When they had finished eating they had a brilliant idea. - -"'I'm going to shake a nickel out of my bank,' said Harry Kaatenstein. - -"'_I'm_ going to shake a nickel out of _my_ bank,' said Leah -Kaatenstein, in surprising luxury of spirit. - -"'_I'm_ going to shake a nickel out of _my_ bank,' said Jenny -Kaatenstein. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, but ran at the -first inkling of the idea immediately to the dining-room where the -four banks were standing, on the mantel above the fire-place, and -pushed up a chair and took down his own green bank. And then he -slid back the little piece of iron that was just under the slot -in the top of the bank, and shook, shook, shook, with very little -noise, and lo, not a nickel but a five-dollar gold coin rolled out -on the floor! - -"And then Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -rushed in and seized their banks and began shaking, shaking with -much _clank_, _clank_ of silver and gold against iron--for was not -their mother far from them?--whilst little Willy Kaatenstein stood -by with his gold piece clasped tight in his hand. Even his young -intelligence knew its marvelous value, and he thought it wise not -to reveal his treasure to Leah Kaatenstein's horrified gaze. - -"'I'm going down to Grove's and buy gum-drops with my nickel,' said -Harry Kaatenstein, pounding and shaking, but never a nickel appeared -for the reason that he had forgotten the little iron slide, which -only once in a while fell away from under the slot and never at -the right time. - -"'_I'm_ going down to Grove's and buy a long licorice pipe with -_my_ nickel,' said Leah Kaatenstein--a long licorice pipe was the -very most she could get for her money--also shaking and pounding -fruitlessly, for she too had forgotten the little iron slide. - -"'_I'm_ going down to Grove's and buy some cookies with _my_ -nickel,' said Jenny Kaatenstein, likewise pounding and shaking -and forgetting the little iron slide. - -"And little Willy Kaatenstein said never a word, but when he had -learned what to buy with his money he ran out of the front door -and down the street to Grove's on the corner. - -"Now when Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -considered and rejoiced over the absence of their mother, they forgot -at the same time to consider and fear the perilous nearness of Emma -ironing in the kitchen--the kitchen being next to the dining-room. - -"Suddenly while they were in the midst of their work and were shaking -and pounding away for dear life, unconscious of all else, the door -leading into the kitchen was pushed open with ominous quiet and -the head of Emma appeared. It was an unprepossessing head at all -times, and it was a dangerous-looking head at that moment. - -"Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein -perceived this vision at once, and an appalling silence like the -tomb followed the clamor that had been. - -"'So this is what you're up to, you young limbs!' said Emma, and -swooped down and pounced upon them before they could possibly escape, -though they had made for the door with very creditable speed. Emma -held them with one hand while she picked up the banks with the -other. She remarked, in unmeasured terms, upon the condition of -the waxed dining-room floor, upon the vicious qualities of some -children whom she mentioned by name, upon what would happen to them -when their mother came home, and upon what was going to happen to -them right away. - -"And she led them upstairs to their mother's bed-room and, after -shaking them well, locked them in and went downstairs, carrying -the key with her. - -"Meanwhile little Willy Kaatenstein had gone upon his interesting -errand at Grove's on the corner. - -"He went into the shop and stood before a glittering glass case of -things. - -"'And what'll it be for Master Kaatenstein to-day?' said the man -behind the glittering case. - -"'I want gum-drops and licorice pipes and cookies--and some -watermelons,' said little Willy Kaatenstein and laid the shining -gold coin before the grocer's astonished eyes, for the grocer had -expected to see the Kaatenstein semi-occasional nickel--nothing -more or less. - -"'Is this yours, Master Kaatenstein?' said the grocer, eyeing the -coin with suspicion. - -"'Of course it's mine,' said little Willy Kaatenstein, impatiently. -'And I want the things right away.' - -"'Well, I suppose it's all right, my boy,' said the grocer. 'If it -isn't, _one_ of us'll have to suffer, I guess. Now, what did you -say you wanted?' - -"Little Willy Kaatenstein repeated his order, and added other items. - -"'Now, Master Kaatenstein,' said the grocer, 'you never will be -able to carry all that. That'll make a pile of stuff. Better run -back and get your little wagon'--for he knew the Kaatenstein wagon, -having often placed in it a paper of sugar or a sack of salt or -three tins of something according to Mrs. Kaatenstein's order--for -the children to draw home. - -"So little Willy Kaatenstein ran back and got the little wagon from -the front yard, and the man loaded the things into it. 'Must be -going to have a picnic,' he observed. - -"There was certainly a pile of stuff. There were long licorice -pipes enough in the wagon to surfeit the appetites of the four -Kaatensteins for many a day, and the name of the gum-drops was -legion. And there were two watermelons, and cookies enough to -satisfy even Jenny Kaatenstein's capacious desire. Also there were -nuts and some dyspeptic-looking pies, and a great many little dogs -and cats and elephants made of a very tough kind of candy which -all the Kaatenstein children thought perfectly lovely. Also there -were figs in boxes and chocolate-drops and red and white sticks -of candy, flavored with peppermint fit to make one's mouth water. -And all these things were in surprising quantity and made so heavy -a load that little Willy Kaatenstein was hard put to it to drag -it up the street. But little Willy Kaatenstein had strong little -arms and he and the wagon made slow and sure progress back to the -Kaatenstein home. The grocer stood out in front of his shop gazing -after the boy and the boy's wagon and the wagon's contents with a -puzzled and somewhat dubious smile. - -"Little Willy Kaatenstein proceeded into his front yard with the -wagon and around to the back on the side of the house where the -kitchen door was not. He dragged the wagon quietly on to the farther -end of the back yard and opened the gate of the pen made of laths, -where Mrs. Kaatenstein's ducks and geese were kept. He drew the -wagon in and back behind the duck-house, and left it. - -"Then little Willy Kaatenstein closed the lath gate and ran to find -Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein and -invite them to the feast. - -"But they were nowhere to be found. He hunted about in the house -and out of doors, but there was no sign of them, and for some -reason he thought he would not ask Emma questions touching on their -whereabouts. - -"So having hunted for his relatives all that he thought best, little -Willy Kaatenstein could but go out on the highways and byways and -call in the lame, the halt, and the blind. Accordingly he slipped -through the fence and went back into the alley-way to the house -immediately behind his own, in search of Bill and Katy Kelly, two -Irish friends of the Kaatenstein children--with whom they were not -allowed to play. Bill and Katy Kelly, to be sure, were neither lame -nor halt nor blind, but were very sound in limb and constitution, and -were extremely responsive to little Willy Kaatenstein's invitation -to come to the feast. Feasts were things that Bill and Katy Kelly -reveled in--when they had opportunity. - -"So in company with little Willy Kaatenstein--he in his curls and -his white suit, and the two in very dingy raiment--they hied them -through the fence to the feast. They reached the duck-yard without -being seen by Emma, the arch-enemy, and found the little wagon -safe, and the ducks and geese staring and peering and stretching -their necks at it and its contents with much curiosity. - -"This curiosity, on the part of the fowls, must have changed to -amazement when they beheld the attack made on the wagon and the -strange things in the way of eating that followed. - -"How Bill and Katy Kelly did eat and how they reveled! And little -Willy Kaatenstein literally waded in gum-drops and long licorice -pipes. They began the feast with pie; from pie they went at figs; -from figs they transferred to the tough little animals; and from -that to cookies; and from cookies to long licorice pipes. Then -they stopped eating consecutively and went at the entire feast -hap-hazard. - -"They ate fast and furiously for several minutes. - -"Then the first ardor of the feast subsided, and little Willy -Kaatenstein, for one, seemed to lose all interest not only in feasts -but in the world at large. He sat back upon a box, which contained -a duck sitting on twelve eggs, and looked at the ground with the -air of one who has someway lost his perspective. - -"Bill and Katy Kelly still ate, but more, it seemed, from a sense of -duty to themselves than from appetite, and presently their eating -became desultory, and they began to throw remnants of the feast to -the fowls. These at first gazed askance at the extraordinary food -thus lavished upon them--but finally went at it madly, as if they, -too, reveled in feasts. - -"Mrs. Kaatenstein's face must need have been a study could she -have seen her cherished ducks and geese stuffing their crops with -licorice pipes and gum-drops. - -"But Mrs. Kaatenstein was out for the afternoon. - -"While these things were happening in her duck-yard, no less -interesting ones were taking place up-stairs in her bed-room, where -Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein were -prisoners of Emma. - -"At first they merely sat on the window-seat and discussed the -several untoward things that they wished would happen to Emma. -Having hanged, drawn and quartered that liberal-proportioned lady -until they could no more, they felt better. Then they looked over -their mother's room in search of amusement, with the result that -the black-walnut bureau, containing the toys with which they were -not allowed to play, was made to give forth the wealth of its -treasures. The floor of Mrs. Kaatenstein's bed-room presented a -motley appearance. Jenny Kaatenstein even forgot to miss her bit of -unleavened bread in her excitement over the fact that she actually -was holding her own huge wax doll in her lap. And the circus and -the steam-engine and the tinkling piano and the tea-sets and the -barking dogs and the picture books and the manifold other things -were at last put to those uses for which they had been destined. -And they even went to the jewel-case and got out their watches. - -"But Harry Kaatenstein and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein, -though they were pleasantly excited, were yet highly uneasy in -their minds. They knew they had yet to render up payment for the -day's business.---- - -"The rest of the tale is obvious enough," said my friend Annabel -Lee, laughing gently and changing her tone. - -"But please tell it," said I, with much eagerness. - -"Well, then," said my friend Annabel Lee:-- - -"The afternoon waned, and Mrs. Kaatenstein came home. She heard -unusual noises in her beloved duck-yard, and fled thither, as fast -as her goodly proportions would allow. - -"Her eyes met a sight which was maddening to them. - -"They beheld little Willy Kaatenstein, looking decidedly pale and -puffy, sitting weakly on a box containing a setting-duck--and the -two objectionable Kelly children actually at that moment feeding her -choicest goose with gum-drops. Scattered all about the once neat -duck yard was rubbish in frightful variety, and a half-dozen of -her tiny ducklings were busy at an atrocious watermelon. Certainly -no one but those Irish young ones could have brought in so much -litter. It did not take Bill and Katy Kelly long to gather that -they were not wanted there. Mrs. Kaatenstein quite quenched, for -the time, their fondness for feasts. As they went, she ordered them -to take their vile belongings with them, which they were willing -enough to do--as much of them as they could carry. They bestowed an -apprehensive glance on little Willy Kaatenstein--but little Willy -Kaatenstein's face was only pale, puffy and very passive. Having -dispersed the Kellys, Mrs. Kaatenstein led her son into the house -and stopped in the kitchen to demand of Emma why she allowed such -things to happen, and ordered her to go at once and clean out the -duck-yard. Emma obeyed, first giving up Mrs. Kaatenstein's bed-room -key and explaining her own possession of it. - -"Then Mrs. Kaatenstein, after doctoring little Willy Kaatenstein's -poor little stomach and laying him neatly out on a sofa in a cool, -dark room, went on to her own room, whence proceeded unusual noises. -Unlocking and opening the door, a sight the like of which she had -not of late years known overwhelmed her spirit. - -"The short, dead silence that followed her appearance on the -threshhold was but emphasized by the merry tinkling of the gay little -circus which had been wound up and would not stop, even under the -dark influence of impending tragedy.---- - -"Well," said my friend Annabel Lee, "the case of Harry Kaatenstein -and Leah Kaatenstein and Jenny Kaatenstein was attended to by their -mother. She whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed. - -"But as for little Willy Kaatenstein--not looking in the least pale -or puffy, he sat that evening, after dinner, on Uncle Will's lap, -wearing his own fine gold watch out of the jewel-case, and being -continually invited to have a glass of beer. - -"But in the kitchen, Emma was telling Juley that though she had once -thought a great deal of little Willy Kaatenstein she now honestly -believed him to be the very worst one of the four.---- - -"That story," said my friend Annabel Lee, "was very tiresome. You -shouldn't ask me to tell you stories." - -"I am sorry if it tired you," I said. "But the story was entirely -fascinating. It was _exactly_ like the Kaatensteins. And you, -telling a story of the Kaatensteins, are delicately, oh, delicately -incongruous!" - -"Were _you_ ever at a feast in the Kaatenstein duck-yard?" said my -friend Annabel Lee. - -"Yes, indeed," said I, "along with Bill and Katy Kelly, at the age -of eleven. And I have seen every toy in the black-walnut bureau." - -"And which would you," said my friend Annabel Lee, "to be at a feast -with the Kaatensteins at the age of eleven, or here, now, with me?" - -"When all's said," said I, "here with you, now, by far." - -"'Tis very good of you," said my friend Annabel Lee, and looked at -me with her purple eyes. - - - - -XXI - -A BOND OF SYMPATHY - - -Having told me stories, my friend Annabel Lee demanded that I should -write a bit of verse to read to her. - -My verse is rather rotten verse, and I told her so. She replied -that the fact of its being rotten had but little to do with the -matter, that most verse was rotten, anyway, and usually the more -rotten the better it suited the reader. - -She was in that mood. - -So I wrote some lines and read them to her--there was nothing else -to do. She had been kind in telling me stories, though probably she -told them because it amused her. When I finished reading, she said -that the verse was not rotten at all. She, for her part, would -call it not yet quite ripe. - -"That's the _verse_," said my friend Annabel Lee. "As for the -meaning of the words in it, that betrays many things. The most vivid -thing it betrays is your age. It shows that you have passed over -the period of nineteen and have arrived at exactly one-and-twenty. -And therefore it is a triumphant bit of verse. - -"Don't you know," said my friend Annabel Lee, "how much verse there -is thrown upon the world that means _nothing_ whatsoever? And so -when one does happen upon a bit of it that tells even the smallest -thing, like the height of the writer, or the color of his hair, -then one feels repaid. - -"And your verse tells still other things," said my friend Annabel -Lee. "One is that you still think, as we've agreed once before, -of that which will one day open wondrously for you." - -"I did not agree to that, you know," said I. - -"Well, then, I agreed to it for both of us," said my friend Annabel -Lee. "And your verse betrays that so plainly that one is led to -feel that there are persons who grow more hopeful with each bit of -darkness that comes to them. If your life were all fire and sunshine -you would write very different verse. And if it told anything at -all it would tell that while you looked forward to still more fire -and sunshine, you would somehow know you were not really to have -any more, but that it would grow less and less in the years, and by -the time you were an old lady, and still not nearly ready to die, -it would give out entirely." - -"That would be by the law of compensation," said I. "And it would -require a great deal of fire and sunshine in her early life to -compensate any one who had grown into an old lady and had run out -of it." - -"So it would," said my friend Annabel Lee. "Now, when you grow -old--though you will never be that which is called an old lady--you -will be quite mellow. And probably the less you have to be mellow -over, the mellower you will be." - -"I don't wish to be that way," said I. "I think that kind of person -is pitiful, living year after year." - -"You'll not be pitiful," said my friend Annabel Lee. "You can -not be mellow and pitiful at the same time. It may be that to be -mellow is the best thing, and the most comfortable. It maybe that -people struggle through a long life with but one object in their -minds--to be mellow in their old age. This verse certainly sounds -as if _you_ were looking forward to it." - -"I can't see that it sounds that way, at all," said I. - -"Of course you can't," said my friend Annabel Lee. "You wrote the -verse, and you are but you." - -"And what are some of the other things that it betrays?" I inquired. - -"It betrays," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that you are better in -detail than you are in the entire. And if that is true of you in -one thing it is true of you in everything. I daresay your friends -find things in you that they like extremely, but you in the entire -they look upon as something that has much to acquire." - -"Not my _friends_?" said I. - -"Yes, your _friends_," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"That is a bitter thing for a verse to show," I made answer, "and -a bitter thing to have in my mind." - -"Well, and aren't you wise enough to prefer the bitter things to -the sweet things?" said my friend Annabel Lee. "For every sweet -thing that you have in your mind, it is yours to pay a mighty bitter -price. Whereas the bitter things are valuable possessions. And if -it is true about your friends, of course you wish to know it." - -"No," said I, "I don't wish to know it." - -"But, at least," said my friend Annabel Lee, with a wonderful -softening of her voice into something that was sincere and enchanting, -"believe what I told you about it, for in that case you and I have -that good gift--a bond of sympathy. For if I had friends, of that -kind, they would look upon me as something with much to acquire, very -sure. But don't," said my friend Annabel Lee, hastily, "consider -the bond of sympathy a sweet thing--remember the mighty bitter -price." - -"I will believe what you said about the friends," said I--"and it -is bitter enough to purge my soul for a time. The bond of sympathy -is not a sweet thing, anyway. I don't expect to have to pay for -it-- And it brings a feeling of restfulness.--" - -"A bond of sympathy," said my friend Annabel Lee, "comes already -paid for. It does very well. It is not sweet--it tastes more like -a cigarette or an olive. - -"About the verse"--said my friend Annabel Lee. - -"Please let's not talk about that any more," said I. - -"Whatever you like," said my friend Annabel Lee. - -And we talked of George Sand and her books. - -But, anyway, this was my bit of unripe verse: - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went lightly - Like the rippling of water; - And many tiny dear things went with it, and I watched them: - I knew that my star would never rise again. - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went softly - Like the half-lights of evening; - And as it went my frantic thoughts pursued it without hoping: - I knew that my star would never rise again. - - Yesterday my star went down in the deep shadows. - It went tenderly - Like my friend who loves me; - But since it's gone the way shows dark--my two eyes are tired watching: - I know that my star will never rise again. - - - - -XXII - -THE MESSAGE OF A TENDER SOUL - - -"The message of a tender soul," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is a -thing that will go far, oh, so far, and lose nothing of itself. - -"When all things in the world are counted the beautiful things are -in the greatest numbers. And when all the things in the world are -counted the message of a tender soul counts greatly more than many. - -"A tender soul receives back no gratitude for its message, and looks -for no gratitude, and does not know what gratitude means. And the -tenderness of the message is all unmade and all unknown, but is -felt for long, long years. - -"The message of a tender soul goes over the sea into the lonesomeness -of the night and nothing stops it on the way, for all know what it -is and bid it godspeed. And it goes down and around a mountain to -a house where there is woe, and if before it came that house had -turned away charity and love and friendship and good-will and peace, -and had sent a curse after them all, still it opens wide its doors -for the message of a tender soul. For its coming is not heralded, -and the soul that sends it does not even know its tenderness, -and the hearts of all in that house where there is woe--they are -deeply, unknowingly comforted. And it goes upon the barrenness of -a countryside where there is not one green thing growing, and the -barrenness is then more than paradise, had paradise no such message. -And it goes where lovely flowers grow in thousands, where sparkling -water mingles with sparkling water and quenches thirst, where the -long gray moss hangs from birch-trees, where pale clouds float--and -itself is more beautiful than all these. Have you felt all those -tender things that go down into the depths? They bring comfort, -but also they bring tears into the eyes and pain into the heart. -The message of a tender soul--what does it bring but ineffable -comfort to the heart? You do not feel that it is a message, you do -not feel it to be a divinely beautiful thing. There are no sudden -salt tears. Only the message is there--only it does that for which -it is sent. Have you gone out and done all the work that you could -do, and done it faithfully and asked no reward--and have you come -back and cried out in bitterness of spirit? Then, it may be, came -wondrously beautiful things from over the way to tell you, Take -heart. But there was no 'take heart' for you. Then it may be there -came from that way which you were not looking, the message of a -tender soul. Then there was comfort, and with no tears of pain and -no bitter, bitter tears of joy. There was deep comfort so that you -could go out and work again and for no reward. There is work that -has no reward. For those that work for no reward there can be no -comfort in all the vastness except the message of a tender soul. -Have you gone out and done all the evil you could do, in cruel ways, -and taken away faith in some one from some one--and have come back -and suffered more than any of them? Then it may be there came the -message of a tender soul--and many, many other things faded from -your heart. And still there were no tears. And if there is too much -for you in living, and if the countless things near and far in the -world crowd over you and fill you with horrible fear, then, if -the message of a tender soul comes, one by one they step backward, -and in your heart is comfort for the long, long years. - -"There have been those that have had happiness that was more than -the world, but in the end there was no comfort, for their happiness -brought with it tears of joy and emotion that had limitless source. - -"If you have wanted happiness and have hungered and thirsted, after -there came the message of a tender soul, you were content with a -branch from a green pine-tree. - -"If you have felt a thousand tender things and have drunk from a -thousand cups and then have been about to write it in black lettering -that all, _all_ have failed you--if then there came the message of -a tender soul, you have written instead that nothing has failed -you, and you have turned back your footsteps and have tried it -all again. - -"If for you and me to-day there should come over frozen hills and -green meadows from a far country the message of a tender soul, -should we shiver when it is dark and should we dread the coming of -the years, and should we consider what would bring weariness and -what would bring rest, and should we measure and contemplate? But -no. For the message of a tender soul is a message from one that has -found the quiet and is absolutely at peace, and has gone so far -toward the stars and so far and wide over the green earth that she -has indeed reached the truth, and her soul gives of its tenderness -without thinking, and without knowing, and all in the dark. - -"And when we should feel the message, all without knowing, there -would come again that long-since faith, and that fullness of life, -and that sense of realness, and the shining of the sun would be of -new meaning. - -"It may be," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that we will have to go -still farther into the wilderness before the message comes, and it -may be also that it will not come for many years. - -"But it is in all ways comforting to know there is such a thing." - -More than I considered the message that might come, I considered -the voice with no hardness but with softness, and the lily face of -my friend Annabel Lee. - - - - -XXIII - -ME TO MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE - - -I wrote the day before yesterday this letter to my friend Annabel -Lee: - - Montreal. ---- - -Dear Fair Lady: - -Since I have come to stay in Montreal for a time, and you still in -Boston, I have seen you, times, even more vividly than when I was -there. You come into my dreams at dead of night. - -Can you imagine what you are in my dreams? - -I look forward impatiently to the end of my time here, so that I -may go to find you again;--but my impatience grows someway less -when I think that if I am with you this vision may vanish from my -dreams.---- - -I will write you of some of the things I have found here. - -There is much in Montreal that takes me back into the dim mists--the -wonderful days when I had lived only three years. It was not here, -but farther west--still what is in Canada is Canadian and does -not change nor vary. This Canadian land and water and air awakens -shadow-things in my memory and visions and voices of the world as -it was when I was three. - -It is all exceeding fair to look upon about here. The fields are -green, not as they are in Massachusetts, but as they might be in the -south of France. There is a beautiful, broad, blue river that can -be seen from far off, and it sends out a haze and then all is gray -French country, and gray French villages. When you come near you -see the French peasants working in the fields--old men and maidens, -and very old, strange-looking women, all with no English words in -their mouths and no English thing in their lives if they can avoid -it. They wear brass rings on their hands and in their ears, and -the women wear gay-colored fish-wife petticoats, and in all their -faces and eyes is that look that comes from working always among -vegetables in the sun, the look of a piteous, useless brain. - -And there is the strange, long, tree-covered hill that they call -Mount Royal. I have in my mind a picture of it in a bygone century, -when an adventurous, brave Frenchman and a few Indians of the wild -stood high at its summit--he with the French flag unfurled in -the wind, and the Indians shading their eyes and looking off and -down into the valley. And there was not one sign of human life in -the valley, and all was wild growth and tangled underbrush, and -death-like silence, except maybe for the far-off sound of flying -wild hoofs in the forest. And now this hill is the lodging-place of -many things hidden among the trees--convents set about with tall, -thick, solid stone walls, and inside the walls are heavy-swathed -nuns who have said their farewell to all things without. And there -are hospitals founded and endowed in the name of the Virgin, and -Jesuit colleges, and the lodges of priests and brotherhoods. - -And in the midst of the St. Lawrence valley where the Indians looked -down is this old gray-stone city, and in the Place d'Armes square -is a fine triumphant statue of Maisonneuve with his French flag. - -This gray-stone city is builded thick with gray-stone cathedrals, -and some of them are very fine, and some of them are parti-colored -as rainbows inside, and all of them are Roman Catholic and French. - -The Protestant churches are but churches. - -And the Notre Dame cathedral, when the setting sun touches its -great, tall, gray, twin towers with red, is even more than French -and Roman Catholic. The white-faced women in the nunnery at the side -of it must need have a likeness of those eternal towers graven on -their narrow devout hearts. Within, the Notre Dame is most gorgeous -with brilliant-colored saints and Virgins and a passion of wealth -and Romanism. - -And is it not wonderful to think that many of these gray-stone -buildings and dwellings were here in the sixteen hundreds, and that -gray nuns walked in these same green gardens two centuries ago? -And the same country was about here, and the same blue water. - -And when all is said, the country and the blue water have been here -always, and are the most wonderful things of all. If the gray-stone -buildings were of yellow gold and of emeralds and brilliants, the -green country would be no fairer and no less exquisitely fair, and -the blue of the water would go no deeper into the heart and no less -deep, and the pale clouds would float high and gently with the same -old-time mystery. And the centuries they know are countless. - -The natural things are the same in Massachusetts--but here they -seem someway even older. You feel the breath of the very long-ago -among the wildness of green--as if only human beings had come and -gone, but it had never changed its smallest twig or grass-blade. -It seems but waiting, and its patience in the waiting is without -end. - -Away on the other side of the tree-covered mountain I have seen a -flat, gently-curved, country road with the sunshine upon it and -a few little English sparrows alighting and flying along it and -picking at grains. And the grass by the road-side was tall and rank -and sweet to the senses, and the road led to farms and the river -and the wildwood. Cows were feeding by a shallow brook, and there -were sumach bushes, thick and dark, near by. - -For several minutes when my eyes rested upon this I felt absolutely -content with all of life. - -While I'm telling you this, Annabel Lee, I am not quite sure you are -listening--and for myself, I see _you_ much more than anything I -have talked about. I am wondering how it is possible that you have -lived only fourteen years--even the fourteen years of a Japanese -woman. And I see again in my mind--your red lips, and your dead-black -hair, and your purple eyes, and your wonderful hands, and your -forehead with the widow's peak, and the two short side-locks that -curve around, and your slimness in the scarlet and gold-embroidered -gown. - -And most of all I see your eyes when they are full of soft purple -shadows, and your lips when they are tender--and your heart, as I -have seen it before, and its depths which are of the white purity. - -Last night there was the vision of you with your purple eyes wide and -gazing down at me with the white lids still. And I was horror-struck -at the look of world-weariness in them--how that it is terrible, -how that it follows one into the darkness and light, how that it is -grief and rage and madness, how that it makes the heart ache until -all the life-nerves ache with it--and there is no end; how that it -is life and death, and one can not escape!--a world of tears and -entreating and vows; but no, there is no escape. - -And then again I looked up at your purple eyes gazing down at me -full of strong, high scorn and triumph. "Do you think we have not -conquered life?" they said. "Do you think we can not crush out all -the little demons that presume to torture? Do you think we can not -conquer _everything_? Who is there that we have not known? Where -is there that we have not been? Are there any still, still shadows -that we have cringed before? Are there any brilliant lights upon the -sky that we have not faced boldly and put aside? And the stones and -the stars and the mists on the sea are less--less than we,--_we_ -are the greatest things of all." - -Thus your two eyes when I slept, and when I woke I saw you again as -you have looked so many times--the expression of your red lips, and -your voice with vague bitterness, and your lily face inscrutable. - -I shall see you so again many times, my friend Annabel Lee.-- - -The fact remains that I am in Montreal and Canada. And as the -days run along I am reminded that I have in me the old Canadian -instincts. The word "Canadian" has always called up in my mind a -confused throng of things, like--porridge for tea, and Sir Hugh -MacDonald, and Dominion Day, and my aunt Elizabeth MacLane, and -old-fashioned pictures of her majesty the queen, and Orangemen's -Day, and "good-night" for good-evening, and "reel of cotton" -for spool of thread, and "tin" instead of can, and Canadian -cheese, and _rawsberries_ in a patent pail, and the Queen's -Own in Toronto, and soldiers in red coats, and children in -Scotch kilts, and jam-tarts, and barley-sugar, and whitefish -from Lake Winnipeg, and the C. P. R., and the Parliament at -Ottawa, and coasting in toboggans, and Lord Aberdeen, and -everything-coming-over-from-England-so-much-better-and-cheaper- -than-American-ware,--and all that sort of thing. And my mind has -always had a color for Canada--a shade of mingled deep green and -golden brown. - -Even in Montreal, where so much is French, there is enough to stamp -it as beyond question Canadian. One still sees marks of her majesty -the queen--but shop-keepers assert confidently that "Edward is -going to make a good king," and Canadian men are made up as nearly -as possible after his pattern, stout and with that short pointed -beard. - -In the greenness of Dominion Square is the most beautiful piece of -sculpture I have seen. All the statues that stand about in Montreal -are finer than most of their kind, and there are no such hideous -creations as are set up in Boston and New York. The Dominion Square -statue is a bronze figure of a Sir John A. MacDonald. The face of -the figure is all that is serene and benign, and the lines of the -body and of the hands are made with strength and beauty. Whether -it is like Sir John A. MacDonald, one does not know--'tis enough -that it's an exquisite piece of workmanship with which to adorn a -city. And the Maisonneuve statue is a fine, handsome thing, and is -altogether alive. The bronze is no bronze, but has seventeenth-century -red blood in its veins, and the arm that is held high and the hand -with the flag mean conquest and victory. - -I shall see Quebec and the length of the blue river before I see you -again, and they, like Montreal, will be mingled with a many-tinted -looking-forward to being with you again. - -High upon the tower of a gray-stone building that I see from my -window is a carved gorgon's head, a likeness of Medusa with snaky -locks. She is hundreds of feet above me as I sit here, but I see the -expression of her face plainly--it is desolate and discouraging. It -says, Do you think you will see that fair lily Annabel Lee again? -Well, then, how foolish are you in your day and generation! I in -my years have seen the passing of many fair lilies. Always they -pass.-- - -Tell me, Annabel Lee,--always do they pass? But no--I shall find -you again. You will make all things many-tinted for a thousand -thousands of gold days. And are we not good friends in way and -manner? And do we not go the foot-pathway together? - -But I wonder always why the gorgon seems so fearfully knowing.-- - -Always my love to you. - - MARY MACLANE. - - - - -XXIV - -MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE TO ME - - -And after some days my friend Annabel Lee wrote me this upon a -square of rice paper: - - Boston,--Monday. - -Dear Mary MacLane:--Don't you know a gorgon is the knowingest thing -in the land? - -You may believe what your friend says of fair lilies. - -But have I ever said that I am a fair lily? - -As for my eyes--they are good chiefly to see with. And they are -bad for many things. - -Yes--get thee home soon, child. - -I miss you when I come to deck me mornings with my lavender slip -and my scarlet frock. And the gold marguerites have not been brushed -since you went away. - -Naught have I to bear me company except Ellen, the faithful little -tan deer--and she can not wait upon me, and she cannot worship me. - -What hast done with Martha Goneril the cat? - -I would fain you had left her here. - -But Mary MacLane--_you_. Do you know about it? - - YOUR FRIEND ANNABEL LEE. - - - - -XXV - -THE GOLDEN RIPPLE - - -My friend Annabel Lee and I are similar to each other in a few, few -ways. Daily we contemplate together a great, blank wall built up -of dull, blue stones. It stands before us and we can not get over -it, for it is too high; neither can we walk around it, for it is -too long; and we can not go through it, for it is solid and very -thick. It is directly across the road. We have both come but a -short way on the road--so short that we can easily look back over -our course to the point where we started. We did not walk together -from there, but we have met each other now before the great, blank -wall of blue stones. - -We have stopped here, for we can not go on. - -I wonder and conjecture much about the wall, and my friend Annabel -Lee regards it sometimes with interest and sometimes with none. - -And, times, we forget all about the wall and merely sit and rest -in the shade it casts, or walk back on the road, or in the grass -about it, or pluck a few wild sweet berries from the stunted wayside -briers. - -And, too, when a thunder storm comes up and the air is full of wind -and rain slanting and whistling about us, we crouch close against -the base of the wall, and we do not become so wet as we should were -there no wall. - -But that is only when the wind is from beyond it. - -When the wind with its flood of rain comes toward us as we crouch -by the wall we are beaten and drenched and buffeted and driven -hard against that cold, blue surface. And the ragged edges of the -rocks make bruises on our foreheads. - -Some days we become exceeding weary with looking at the great blank -wall--and with having looked at it already for many a day, and many -a day. - -"It is so high and so thick," I say. - -"It is so long," says my friend Annabel Lee. - -To all appearances we have gone as far upon the road as we ever can -go. We can not get over the wall of blue stones--and we can not -walk round--and we can not go through. There is nothing to indicate -that it will ever be removed. - -The field for conjecture as to what lies on the other side of the -road is so vast that we do not venture to conjecture. - -But we have talked often and madly of the wall itself. - -"Perhaps," I say, "it is that the wall is placed here before our -eyes to hide from us our limitations." - -"Perhaps," says my friend Annabel Lee, "it is that the wall itself -is our limitations." - -Which, if it is true, is very damnable. - -For though human beings have done some divine things they have -never gone beyond their limitations. - -The blue of the stones in the wall is not a dark blue, but it is -very cold. It is the color that is called stone blue. - -It never changes. - -The sun and the shade look alike upon it; and the wet rain does -not brighten it; neither do thick clouds of dust make it dull. - -It is stone blue. - -Except for this: - -Once in a number of days, in fair weather or foul, there will come -upon the wide blankness a rippling like gold. - -It lingers a second and vanishes--and appears again. And then it's -gone until another time. - -How tender, how lovely, how bright is the golden ripple against -the cold, cold blue! - -It is come and gone in a minute. - -We do not know its coming or its going. - -But while we see it our hearts beat high and fast. - -"It may be," I say when it is gone, "that this golden ripple will -show us some way to get beyond the wall where things are divine." - -"It may be," says my friend Annabel Lee, "that the golden ripple -will show us something divine among these few things on this side -of the wall." - - * * * * * - -_My friend, Annabel Lee--with your strong, brave little heart and -your two strong little hands, you were with me in my weary, bitter -day. You were brave enough for two. It is to you from me that a -message will go from out of silences and over frozen hills in the -years that are coming._ - - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY - AND SONS COMPANY, AT THE - LAKESIDE PRESS, CHICAGO, ILL. - - - - -[Transcriber's Notes: - -Errors in punctuation were repaired. - -Except for the following changes, spelling has been preserved as -printed in the original. - - Page 32, "countless" changed from "couutless" (countless - grass-blades). - Page 43, "written" changed from "writtten" (who has written). - Page 95, "Annabel" changed from "Annable" ("To fall in - love!"--said my friend Annabel). - Page 128, "look" changed from "took" (Annabel Lee to look - at). - Page 139, "Le Page" changed from "LePage" (and Le Page - covered). - Page 158, "beautiful" on the second and fourth lines of - the verse "For the moon never beams ..." changed from - "beatiful" and "beautiul", respectively. - Page 212, "it's" changed from "its" (it's all right). - -On page 224, a paragraph break was inserted before "And which - would you".] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Friend Annabel Lee, by Mary MacLane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY FRIEND ANNABEL LEE *** - -***** This file should be named 43624.txt or 43624.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/6/2/43624/ - -Produced by Marie Bartolo from page images made available -by the Internet Archive: American Libraries - - -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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