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diff --git a/9210.txt b/9210.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18843a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/9210.txt @@ -0,0 +1,820 @@ +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 + +Posting Date: December 2, 2010 [EBook #9210] +Release Date: November, 2005 +First Posted: August 23, 2003 +Last Updated: February 5, 2007 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VILLAGE UNCLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + TWICE TOLD TALES + + THE VILLAGE UNCLE + + AN IMAGINARY RETROSPECT + + By Nathaniel Hawthorne + + + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + + + + + + +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.txt or 9210.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. HTML version by Al Haines. + +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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