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diff --git a/9210-h/9210-h.htm b/9210-h/9210-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ad56b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/9210-h/9210-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,863 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Village Uncle, by Nathaniel Hawthorne + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Village Uncle (From "Twice Told Tales"), by +Nathaniel Hawthorne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Village Uncle (From "Twice Told Tales") + +Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne + +Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9210] +First Posted: August 23, 2003 +Last Updated: April 2, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VILLAGE UNCLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger. HTML version by Al Haines and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + TWICE TOLD TALES<br /> + </h3> + <h2> + THE VILLAGE UNCLE<br /> + </h2> + <h4> + AN IMAGINARY RETROSPECT<br /> + </h4> + <h3> + By Nathaniel Hawthorne<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Come! another log upon the hearth. True, our little parlor is comfortable, + especially here, where the old man sits in his old arm-chair; but on + Thanksgiving night the blaze should dance high up the chimney, and send a + shower of sparks into the outer darkness. Toss on an armful of those dry + oak chips, the last relics of the Mermaid's knee-timbers, the bones of + your namesake, Susan. Higher yet, and clearer be the blaze, till our + cottage windows glow the ruddiest in the village, and the light of our + household mirth flash far across the bay to Nahant. And now, come, Susan, + come, my children, draw your chairs round me, all of you. There is a + dimness over your figures! You sit quivering indistinctly with each motion + of the blaze, which eddies about you like a flood, so that you all have + the look of visions, or people that dwell only in the fire light, and will + vanish from existence, as completely as your own shadows, when the flame + shall sink among the embers. Hark! let me listen for the swell of the + surf; it should be audible a mile inland, on a night like this. Yes; there + I catch the sound, but only an uncertain murmur, as if a good way down + over the beach; though, by the almanac, it is high tide at eight o'clock, + and the billows must now be dashing within thirty yards of our door. Ah! + the old man's ears are failing him; and so is his eyesight, and perhaps + his mind; else you would not all be so shadowy, in the blaze of his + Thanksgiving fire. + </p> + <p> + How strangely the Past is peeping over the shoulders of the Present! To + judge by my recollections, it is but a few moments since I sat in another + room; yonder model of a vessel was not there, nor the old chest of + drawers, nor Susan's profile and mine, in that gilt frame; nothing, in + short, except this same fire, which glimmered on books, papers, and a + picture, and half discovered my solitary figure in a looking-glass. But it + was paler than my rugged old self, and younger, too, by almost half a + century. Speak to me, Susan; speak, my beloved ones; for the scene is + glimmering on my sight again, and as it brightens you fade away. O, I + should be loath to lose my treasure of past happiness, and become once + more what I was then; a hermit in the depths of my own mind; sometimes + yawning over drowsy volumes, and anon a scribbler of wearier trash than + what I read; a man who had wandered out of the real world and got into its + shadow, where his troubles, joys, and vicissitudes were of such slight + stuff, that he hardly knew whether he lived, or only dreamed of living. + Thank Heaven, I am an old man now, and have done with all such vanities! + </p> + <p> + Still this dimness of mine eyes! Come nearer, Susan, and stand before the + fullest blaze of the hearth. Now I behold you illuminated from head to + foot, in your clean cap and decent gown, with the dear lock of gray hair + across your forehead, and a quiet smile about your mouth, while the eyes + alone are concealed, by the red gleam of the fire upon your spectacles. + There, you made me tremble again! When the flame quivered, my sweet Susan, + you quivered with it, and grew indistinct, as if melting into the warm + light, that my last glimpse of you might be as visionary as the first was, + full many a year since. Do you remember it? You stood on the little + bridge, over the brook, that runs across King's Beach into the sea. It was + twilight; the waves rolling in, the wind sweeping by, the crimson clouds + fading in the west, and the silver moon brightening above the hill; and on + the bridge were you, fluttering in the breeze like a sea-bird that might + skim away at your pleasure. You seemed a daughter of the viewless wind, a + creature of the ocean foam and the crimson light, whose merry life was + spent in dancing on the crests of the billows, that threw up their spray + to support your footsteps. As I drew nearer, I fancied you akin to the + race of mermaids, and thought how pleasant it would be to dwell with you + among the quiet coves, in the shadow of the cliffs, and to roam along + secluded beaches of the purest sand, and when our northern shores grew + bleak, to haunt the islands, green and lonely, far amid summer seas. And + yet it gladdened me, after all this nonsense, to find you nothing but a + pretty young girl, sadly perplexed with the rude behavior of the wind + about your petticoats. + </p> + <p> + Thus I did with Susan as with most other things in my earlier days, + dipping her image into my mind and coloring it of a thousand fantastic + hues, before I could see her as she really was. Now, Susan, for a sober + picture of our village! It was a small collection of dwellings that seemed + to have been cast up by the sea, with the rock-weed and marine plants that + it vomits after a storm, or to have come ashore among the pipe-staves and + other lumber, which had been washed from the deck of an Eastern schooner. + There was just space for the narrow and sandy street between the beach in + front, and a precipitous hill that lifted its rocky forehead in the rear, + among a waste of juniper-bushes and the wild growth of a broken pasture. + The village was picturesque, in the variety of its edifices, though all + were rude. Here stood a little old hovel, built, perhaps, of drift-wood, + there a row of boat-houses, and beyond them a two-story dwelling, of dark + and weather-beaten aspect, the whole intermixed with one or two snug + cottages, painted white, a sufficiency of pigsties, and a shoemaker's + shop. Two grocery-stores stand opposite each other, in the centre of the + village. These were the places of resort, at their idle hours, of a hardy + throng of fishermen, in red baize shirts, oilcloth trousers, and boots of + brown leather covering the whole leg; true seven-league boots, but fitter + to wade the ocean than walk the earth. The wearers seemed amphibious, as + if they did but creep out of salt water to sun themselves; nor would it + have been wonderful to see their lower limbs covered with clusters of + little shellfish, such as cling to rocks and old ship-timber over which + the tide ebbs and flows. When their fleet of boats was weather-bound, the + butchers raised their price, and the spit was busier than the frying-pan; + for this was a place of fish, and known as such, to all the country round + about; the very air was fishy, being perfumed with dead sculpins, + hardheads, and dogfish, strewn plentifully on the beach. You see, + children, the village is but little changed, since your mother and I were + young. + </p> + <p> + How like a dream it was, when I bent over a pool of water, one pleasant + morning, and saw that the ocean had dashed its spray over me and made me a + fisherman! There were the tarpauling, the baize shirt, the oil-cloth + trousers and seven-league boots, and there my own features, but so + reddened with sunburn and sea-breezes, that methought I had another face, + and on other shoulders too. The sea-gulls and the loons, and I, had now + all one trade; we skimmed the crested waves and sought our prey beneath + them, the man with as keen enjoyment as the birds. Always, when the east + grew purple, I launched my dory, my little flat-bottomed skiff, and rowed + cross-handed to Point Ledge, the Middle Ledge, or, perhaps, beyond Egg + Rock; often, too, did I anchor off Dread Ledge, a spot of peril to ships + unpiloted; and sometimes spread an adventurous sail and tracked across the + bay to South Shore, casting my lines in sight of Scituate. Ere nightfall, + I hauled my skiff high and dry on the beach, laden with red rock-cod, or + the white-bellied ones of deep water; haddock, bearing the black marks of + St. Peter's fingers near the gills; the longbearded hake, whose liver + holds oil enough for a midnight lamp; and now and then a mighty halibut, + with a back broad as my boat. In the autumn, I trolled and caught those + lovely fish, the mackerel. When the wind was high,—when the + whale-boats, anchored off the Point, nodded their slender masts at each + other, and the dories pitched and tossed in the surf,—when Nahant + Beach was thundering three miles off, and the spray broke a hundred feet + in air, round the distant base of Egg Rock,—when the brimful and + boisterous sea threatened to tumble over the street of our village,—then + I made a holiday on shore. + </p> + <p> + Many such a day did I sit snugly in Mr. Bartlett's store, attentive to the + yarns of Uncle Parker; uncle to the whole village, by right of seniority, + but of Southern blood, with no kindred in New England. His figure is + before me now, enthroned upon a mackerel-barrel; a lean old man, of great + height, but bent with years, and twisted into an uncouth shape by seven + broken limbs; furrowed also, and weather-worn, as if every gale, for the + better part of a century, had caught him somewhere on the sea. He looked + like a harbinger of tempest, a shipmate of the Flying Dutchman. After + innumerable voyages aboard men-of-war and merchant-men, fishing-schooners + and chebacco-boats, the old salt had become master of a handcart, which he + daily trundled about the vicinity, and sometimes blew his fish-horn + through the streets of Salem. One of Uncle Parker's eyes had been blown + out with gunpowder, and the other did but glimmer in its socket. Turning + it upward as he spoke, it was his delight to tell of cruises against the + French, and battles with his own shipmates, when he and an antagonist used + to be seated astride of a sailor's chest, each fastened down by a + spike-nail through his trousers, and there to fight it out. Sometimes he + expatiated on the delicious flavor of the liagden, a greasy and goose-like + fowl, which the sailors catch with hook and line on the Grand Banks. He + dwelt with rapture on an interminable winter at the Isle of Sables, where + he had gladdened himself, amid polar snows, with the rum and sugar saved + from the wreck of a West India schooner. And wrathfully did he shake his + fist, as he related how a party of Cape Cod men had robbed him and his + companions of their lawful spoil, and sailed away with every keg of old + Jamaica, leaving him not a drop to drown his sorrow. Villains they were, + and of that wicked brotherhood who are said to tie lanterns to horses' + tails, to mislead the mariner along the dangerous shores of the Cape. + </p> + <p> + Even now I seem to see the group of fishermen, with that old salt in the + midst. One fellow sits on the counter, a second bestrides an oil-barrel, a + third lolls at his length on a parcel of new cod-lines, and another has + planted the tarry seat of his trousers on a heap of salt, which will + shortly be sprinkled over a lot of fish. They are a likely set of men. + Some have voyaged to the East Indies or the Pacific, and most of them have + sailed in Marblehead schooners to Newfoundland; a few have been no farther + than the Middle Banks, and one or two have always fished along the shore; + but, as Uncle Parker used to say, they have all been christened in salt + water, and know more than men ever learn in the bushes. A curious figure, + by way of contrast, is a fish-dealer from farup country, listening with + eyes wide open to narratives that might startle Sindbad the sailor. Be it + well with you, my brethren! Ye are all gone, some to your graves ashore, + and others to the depths of ocean; but my faith is strong that ye are + happy; for whenever I behold your forms, whether in dream or vision, each + departed friend is puffing his long-nine, and a mug of the right + blackstrap goes round from lip to lip. + </p> + <p> + But where was the mermaid in those delightful times? At a certain window + near the centre of the village appeared a pretty display of gingerbread + men and horses, picture-books and ballads, small fish-hooks, pins, + needles, sugar-plums, and brass thimbles, articles on which the young + fishermen used to expend their money from pure gallantry. What a picture + was Susan behind the counter! A slender maiden, though the child of rugged + parents, she had the slimmest of all waists, brown hair curling on her + neck, and a complexion rather pale, except when the sea-breeze flushed it. + A few freckles became beauty-spots beneath her eyelids. How was it, Susan, + that you talked and acted so carelessly, yet always for the best, doing + whatever was right in your own eyes, and never once doing wrong in mine, + nor shocked a taste that had been morbidly sensitive till now? And whence + had you that happiest gift, of brightening every topic with an unsought + gayety, quiet but irresistible, so that even loomy spirits felt your + sunshine, and did not shrink from it? Nature wrought the charm. She made + you a frank, simple, kind-hearted, sensible, and mirthful girl. Obeying + nature, you did free things without indelicacy, displayed a maiden's + thoughts to every eye, and proved yourself as innocent as naked Eve. + </p> + <p> + It was beautiful to observe, how her simple and happy nature mingled + itself with mine. She kindled a domestic fire within my heart, and took up + her dwelling there, even in that chill and lonesome cavern hung round with + glittering icicles of fancy. She gave me warmth of feeling, while the + influence of my mind made her contemplative. I taught her to love the + moonlight hour, when the expanse of the encircled bay was smooth as a + great mirror and slept in a transparent shadow; while beyond Nahant, the + wind rippled the dim ocean into a dreamy brightness, which grew faint afar + off, without becoming gloomier. I held her hand and pointed to the long + surf wave, as it rolled calmly on the beach, in an unbroken line of + silver; we were silent together, till its deep and peaceful murmur had + swept by us. When the Sabbath sun shone down into the recesses of the + cliffs, I led the mermaid thither, and told her that those huge, gray, + shattered rocks, and her native sea, that raged forever like a storm + against them, and her own slender beauty, in so stern a scene, were all + combined into a strain of poetry. But on the Sabbath eve, when her mother + had gone early to bed, and her gentle sister had smiled and left us, as we + sat alone by the quiet hearth, with household things around, it was her + turn to make me feel that here was a deeper poetry, and that this was the + dearest hour of all. Thus went on our wooing, till I had shot wild-fowl + enough to feather our bridal bed, and the Daughter of the Sea was mine. + </p> + <p> + I built a cottage for Susan and myself, and made a gateway in the form of + a Gothic arch, by setting up a whale's jaw-bones. We bought a heifer with + her first calf, and had a little garden on the hillside, to supply us with + potatoes and green sauce for our fish. Our parlor small and neat, was + ornamented with our two profiles in one gilt frame, and with shells and + pretty pebbles on the mantel-piece, selected from the sea's treasury of + such things, on Nahant Beach. On the desk, beneath the looking-glass, lay + the Bible, which I had begun to read aloud at the Book of Genesis, and the + singing-book that Susan used for her evening psalm. Except the almanac, we + had no other literature. All that I heard of books, was when an Indian + history, or tale of shipwreck, was sold by a peddler or wandering + subscription-man, to some one in the village, and read through its owner's + nose to a slumberous auditory. Like my brother fishermen, I grew into the + belief that all human erudition was collected in our pedagogue, whose + green spectacles and solemn phiz, as he passed to his little schoolhouse, + amid a waste of sand, might have gained him a diploma from any college in + New England. In truth I dreaded him. When our children were old enough to + claim his care, you remember, Susan, how I frowned, though you were + pleased, at this learned man's encomiums on their proficiency. I feared to + trust them even with the alphabet; it was the key to a fatal treasure. + </p> + <p> + But I loved to lead them by their little hands along the beach, and point + to nature in the vast and the minute, the sky, the sea, the green earth, + the pebbles, and the shells. Then did I discourse of the mighty works and + coextensive goodness of the Deity, with the simple wisdom of a man whose + mind had profited by lonely days upon the deep, and his heart by the + strong and pure affections of his evening home. Sometimes my voice lost + itself in a tremulous depth; for I felt His eye upon me as I spoke. Once, + while my wife and all of us were gazing at ourselves, in the mirror left + by the tide in a hollow of the sand, I pointed to the pictured heaven + below, and bade her observe how religion was strewn everywhere in our + path; since even a casual pool of water recalled the idea of that home + whither we were travelling, to rest forever with our children. Suddenly, + your image, Susan, and all the little faces made up of yours and mine, + seemed to fade away and vanish around me, leaving a pale visage like my + own of former days within the frame of a large looking-glass. Strange + illusion! + </p> + <p> + My life glided on, the past appearing to mingle with the present and + absorb the future, till the whole lies before me at a glance. My manhood + has long been waning with a stanch decay; my earlier contemporaries, after + lives of unbroken health, are all at rest, without having known the + weariness of later age; and now, with a wrinkled forehead and thin white + hair as badges of my dignity, I have become the patriarch, the Uncle of + the village. I love that name; it widens the circle of my sympathies; it + joins all the youthful to my household, in the kindred of affection. + </p> + <p> + Like Uncle Parker, whose rheumatic bones were dashed against Egg Rock, + full forty years ago, I am a spinner of long yarns. Seated on the gunwale + of a dory, or on the sunny side of a boat-house, where the warmth is + grateful to my limbs, or by my own hearth, when a friend or two are there, + I overflow with talk, and yet am never tedious. With a broken voice I give + utterance to much wisdom. Such, Heaven be praised! is the vigor of my + faculties, that many a forgotten usage, and traditions ancient in my + youth, and early adventures of myself or others, hitherto effaced by + things more recent, acquire new distinctness in my memory. I remember the + happy days when the haddock were more numerous on all the fishing-grounds + than sculpins in the surf; when the deepwater cod swain close in shore, + and the dogfish, with his poisonous horn, had not learned to take the + hook. I can number every equinoctial storm, in which the sea has + overwhelmed the street, flooded the cellars of the village, and hissed + upon our kitchen hearth. I give the history of the great whale that was + landed on Whale Beach, and whose jaws, being now my gateway, will last for + ages after my coffin shall have passed beneath them. Thence it is an easy + digression to the halibut, scarcely smaller than the whale, which ran out + six cod-lines, and hauled my dory to the mouth of Boston Harbor, before I + could touch him with the gaff. + </p> + <p> + If melancholy accidents be the theme of conversation, I tell how a friend + of mine was taken out of his boat by an enormous shark; and the sad, true + tale of a young man on the eve of marriage, who had been nine days + missing, when his drowned body floated into the very pathway, on + Marblehead Neck, that had often led him to the dwelling of his bride; as + if the dripping corpse would have come where the mourner was. With such + awful fidelity did that lover return to fulfil his vows! Another favorite + story is of a crazy maiden, who conversed with angels and had the gift of + prophecy, and whom all the village loved and pitied, though she went from + door to door accusing us of sin, exhorting to repentance, and foretelling + our destruction by flood or earthquake. If the young men boast their + knowledge of the ledges and sunken rocks, I speak of pilots, who knew the + wind by its scent and the wave by its taste, and could have steered + blindfold to any port between Boston and Mount Desert, guided only by the + rote of the shore; the peculiar sound of the surf on each island, beach, + and line of rocks, along the coast. Thus do I talk, and all my auditors + grow wise, while they deem it pastime. + </p> + <p> + I recollect no happier portion of my life, than this, my calm old age. It + is like the sunny and sheltered slope of a valley, where, late in the + autumn, the grass is greener than in August, and intermixed with golden + dandelions, that have not been seen till now, since the first warmth of + the year. But with me, the verdure and the flowers are not frostbitten in + the midst of winter. A playfulness has revisited my mind; a sympathy with + the young and gay; an unpainful interest in the business of others; a + light and wandering curiosity; arising, perhaps, from the sense that my + toil on earth is ended, and the brief hour till bedtime may be spent in + play. Still, I have fancied that there is a depth of feeling and + reflection, under this superficial levity, peculiar to one who has lived + long, and is soon to die. + </p> + <p> + Show me anything that would make an infant smile, and you shall behold a + gleam of mirth over the hoary ruin of my visage. I can spend a pleasant + hour in the sun, watching the sports of the village children, on the edge + of the surf; now they chase the retreating wave far down over the wet + sand; now it steals softly up to kiss their naked feet; now it comes + onward with threatening front, and roars after the laughing crew, as they + scamper beyond its reach. Why should not an old man be merry too, when the + great sea is at play with those little children? I delight, also, to + follow in the wake of a pleasure-party of young men and girls, strolling + along the beach after an early supper at the Point. Here, with hand + kerchiefs at nose, they bend over a heap of eel-grass, entangled in which + is a dead skate, so oddly accoutred with two legs and a long tail, that + they mistake him for a drowned animal. A few steps farther, the ladies + scream, and the gentlemen make ready to protect them against a young shark + of the dogfish kind, rolling with a life-like motion in the tide that has + thrown him up. Next, they are smit with wonder at the black shells of a + wagon-load of live lobsters, packed in rock-weed for the country market. + And when they reach the fleet of dories, just hauled ashore after the + day's fishing, how do I laugh in my sleeve, and sometimes roar outright, + at the simplicity of these young folks and the sly humor of the fishermen! + In winter, when our village is thrown into a bustle by the arrival of + perhaps a score of country dealers, bargaining for frozen fish, to be + transported hundreds of miles, and eaten fresh in Vermont or Canada, I am + a pleased but idle spectator in the throng. For I launch my boat no more. + </p> + <p> + When the shore was solitary, I have found a pleasure that seemed even to + exalt my mind, in observing the sports or contentions of two gulls, as + they wheeled and hovered about each other, with hoarse screams, one moment + flapping on the foam of the wave, and then soaring aloft, till their white + bosoms melted into the upper sunshine. In the calm of the summer sunset, I + drag my aged limbs, with a little ostentation of activity, because I am so + old, up to the rocky brow of the hill. There I see the white sails of many + a vessel, outward bound or homeward from afar, and the black trail of a + vapor behind the eastern steamboat; there, too, is the sun, going down, + but not in gloom, and there the illimitable ocean mingling with the sky, + to remind me of eternity. + </p> + <p> + But sweetest of all is the hour of cheerful musing and pleasant talk, that + comes between the dusk and the lighted candle, by my glowing fireside. And + never, even on the first Thanksgiving night, when Susan and I sat alone + with our hopes, nor the second, when a stranger had been sent to gladden + us, and be the visible image of our affection, did I feel such joy as now. + All that belong to me are here; Death has taken none, nor Disease kept + them away, nor Strife divided them from their parents or each other; with + neither poverty nor riches to disturb them, nor the misery of desires + beyond their lot, they have kept New England's festival round the + patriarch's board. For I am a patriarch! Here I sit among my descendants, + in my old arm-chair and immemorial corner, while the firelight throws an + appropriate glory round my venerable frame. Susan! My children! Something + whispers me, that this happiest hour must be the final one, and that + nothing remains but to bless you all, and depart with a treasure of + recollected joys to heaven. Will you meet me there? Alas! your figures + grow indistinct, fading into pictures on the air, and now to fainter + outlines, while the fire is glimmering on the walls of a familiar room, + and shows the book that I flung down, and the sheet that I left half + written, some fifty years ago. I lift my eyes to the looking-glass, and + perceive myself alone, unless those be the mermaid's features, retiring + into the depths of the mirror, with a tender and melancholy smile. + </p> + <p> + All! one feels a chillness, not bodily, but about the heart, and, + moreover, a foolish dread of looking behind him, after these pastimes. I + can imagine precisely how a magician would sit down in gloom and terror, + after dismissing the shadows that had personated dead or distant people, + and stripping his cavern of the unreal splendor which had changed it to a + palace. And now for a moral to my revery. Shall it be, that, since fancy + can create so bright a dream of happiness, it were better to dream on from + youth to age, than to awake and strive doubtfully for something real! O, + the slight tissue of a dream can no more preserve us from the stern + reality of misfortune, than a robe of cobweb could repel the wintry blast. + Be this the moral, then. In chaste and warm affections, humble wishes, and + honest toil for some useful end, there is health for the mind, and quiet + for the heart, the prospect of a happy life, and the fairest hope of + heaven. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Village Uncle (From "Twice Told +Tales"), by Nathaniel Hawthorne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VILLAGE UNCLE *** + +***** This file should be named 9210-h.htm or 9210-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/2/1/9210/ + +Produced by David Widger. 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