It was on the morrow after my birthday that we became finally convinced of the French retreat. Mr. Stewart had returned from his journeys, contented1, and sat now, after his hot supper, smoking by the fire. I lay at his feet on a bear-skin, I remember, reading by the light of the flames, when my aunt brought the baby-girl in.
During the week that she had been with us, I had been too much terrified by the menace of invasion to take much interest in her, and Mr. Stewart had scarcely seen her. He smiled now, and held out his hands to her. She went to him very freely, and looked him over with a wise, wondering expression when he took her on his knee. It could be seen that she was very pretty. Her little white rows of teeth were as regular and pearly as the upper kernels2 on an ear of fresh sweet corn. She had a ribbon in her long, glossy3 hair, and her face shone pleasantly with soap. My aunt had made her some shoes out of deer-hide, which Mr. Stewart chuckled4 over.
"What a people the Dutch are!" he said, with a smile. "The child is polished like the barrel of a gun. What's your name, little one?"
The girl made no answer, from timidity I suppose.
"Has she no name? I should think she would have one," said I. It was the first time I had ever spoken to Mr. Stewart without having been addressed. But my new position in the house seemed to entitle me to this much liberty, for once.
"No," he replied, "your aunt is not able to discover that she has a name--except that she calls herself Pulkey, or something like that."
"That is not a good name to the ear," I said, in comment.
"No; doubtless it is a nickname. I have thought," he added, musingly6, "of calling her Desideria."
I sat bolt upright at this. It did not become me to protest, but I could not keep the dismay from my face, evidently, for Mr. Stewart laughed aloud.
"What is it, Douw? Is it not to your liking7?"
"Y-e-s, sir--but she is such a very little girl!"
"And the name is so great, eh? She'll grow to it, lad, she'll grow to it. And what kind of a Dutchman are you, sir, who are unwilling8 to do honor to the greatest of all Dutchmen? The Dr. Erasmus upon whose letters you are to try your Latin this winter--his name was Desiderius. Can you tell what it means? It signifies 'desired,' as of a mother's heart, and he took a form of the Greek verb erao, meaning about the same thing, instead. It's a goodly famous name, you see. We mean to make our little girl the truest lady, and love her the best, of all the women in the Valley. And so we'll give her a name--a fair-sounding, gracious, classical name--which no other woman bears, and one that shall always suggest home love--eh, boy?"
"But if it be so good a name, sir," I said, gingerly being conscious of presumption9, "why did Dr. Erasmus not keep it himself instead of turning it into Greek?"
My patron laughed heartily10 at this. "A Dutchman for obstinacy11!" he said, and leaned over to rub the top of my head, which he did when I specially12 pleased him.
Late that night, as I lay awake in my new room, listening to the whistling of the wind in the snow-laden branches outside, an idea came to me which I determined13 to put into action. So next evening, when the little girl was brought in after our supper, I begged that she might be put down on the fur before the fire, to play with me, and I watched my opportunity. Mr. Stewart was reading by the candles on the table. Save for the singing of the kettle on the crane--for the mixing of his night-drink later on--and the click of my aunt's knitting-needles, there was perfect silence. I mustered14 my bravery, and called my wee playmate "Daisy."
I dared not look at the master, and could not tell if he had heard or not. Presently I spoke5 the name again, and this time ventured to steal an apprehensive15 glance at him, and fancied I saw the workings of a smile repressed in the deep lines about his mouth. "A Dutchman for obstinacy" truly, since two days afterward16 Mr. Stewart himself called the girl "Daisy"--and there was an end of it. Until confirmation17 time, when she played a queenly part at the head of the little class of farmers' and villagers' daughters whom Dominie Romeyn baptized into full communion, the ponderous18 Latin name was never heard of again. Then it indeed emerged for but a single day, to dignify19 a state occasion, and disappeared forever. Except alone on the confirmation register of the Stone Church at Caughnawaga, she was Daisy thenceforth for all time and to all men.
The winter of 1757-58 is still spoken of by us old people as a season of great severity and consequent privation. The snow was drifted over the roads up to the first branches of the trees, yet rarely formed a good crust upon which one could move with snow-shoes. Hence the outlying settlements, like Cherry Valley and Tribes Hill, had hard work to get food.
I do not remember that our household stood in any such need, but occasionally some Indian who had been across the hills carrying venison would come in and rest, begging for a drink of raw rum, and giving forth20 a strong smell like that of a tame bear as he toasted himself by the fire. Mr. Stewart was often amused by these fellows, and delighted to talk with them as far as their knowledge of language and inclination21 to use it went, but I never could abide22 them.
It has become the fashion now to be sentimental23 about the red man, and young people who never knew what he really was like find it easy to extol24 his virtues25, and to create for him a chivalrous26 character. No doubt there were some honest creatures among them; even in Sodom and Gomorrah a few just people were found. It is true that in later life I once had occasion to depend greatly upon the fidelity27 of two Oneidas, and they did not fail me. But as a whole the race was a bad one--full of laziness and lies and cowardly ferocity. From earliest childhood I saw a good deal of them, and I know what I say.
Probably there was no place on the whole continent where these Indians could be better studied than in the Mohawk Valley, near to Sir William's place. They came to him in great numbers, not only from the Six Nations, but often from far-distant tribes living beyond the Lakes and north of the St. Lawrence. They were on their best behavior with him, and no doubt had an affection for him in their way, but it was because he flattered their egregious28 vanity by acting29 and dressing30 in Indian fashion, and made it worth their while by constantly giving them presents and rum. Their liking seemed always to me to be that of the selfish, treacherous31 cat, rather than of the honest dog. Their teeth and claws were always ready for your flesh, if you did not give them enough, and if they dared to strike. And they were cowards, too, for all their boasting. Not even Sir William could get them to face any enemy in the open. Their notion of war was midnight skulking32 and shooting from behind safe cover. Even in battle they were murderers, not warriors33.
In peace they were next to useless. There was a little colony of them in our orchard34 one summer which I watched with much interest. The men never did one stroke of honest work all the season long, except to trot35 on errands when they felt like it, and occasionally salt and smoke fish which they caught in the river.
But the wretched squaws--my word but they worked enough for both! These women, wrinkled, dirty, sore-eyed from the smoke in their miserable36 huts, toiled37 on patiently, ceaselessly, making a great variety of wooden utensils38 and things of deer-hide like snow-shoes, moccasins, and shirts, which they bartered39 with the whites for milk and vegetables and rum. Even the little girls among them had to gather berries and mandrake, and, in the fall, the sumach blows which the Indians used for savoring40 their food. And if these poor creatures obtained in their bartering41 too much bread and milk and too little rum and tobacco, they were beaten by their men as no white man would beat the meanest animal.
Doubtless much of my dislike for the Indian came from his ridiculous and hateful assumption of superiority over the negro. To my mind, and to all sensible minds I fancy, one simple, honest, devoted42 black was worth a score of these conceited43, childish brutes44. I was so fond of my boy Tulp, that, even as a little fellow, I deeply resented the slights and cuffs45 which he used to receive at the hands of the savages46 who lounged about in the sunshine in our vicinity. His father, mother, and brothers, who herded47 together in a shanty48 at the edge of the clearing back of us, had their faults, no doubt; but they would work when they were bid, and they were grateful to those who fed and clothed and cared for them. These were reasons for their being despised by the Indians--and they seemed also reasons why I should like them, as I always did.
There were other reasons why I should be very fond of Tulp. He was a queer, droll49 little darky as a boy, full of curious fancies and comical sayings, and I never can remember a time when he would not, I veritably believe, have laid down his life for me. We were always together, indoors or out. He was exceedingly proud of his name, which was in a way a badge of ancient descent--having been borne by a long line of slaves, his ancestors, since that far-back time when the Dutch went crazy over collecting tulip-bulbs.
His father had started in life with this name, too, but, passing into the possession of an unromantic Yankee at Albany, had been re-christened Eli--a name which he loathed50 yet perforce retained when Mr. Stewart bought him. He was a drunken, larcenous51 old rascal52, but as sweet-tempered as the day is long, and many's the time I've heard him vow53, with maudlin54 tears in his eyes, that all his evil habits came upon him as the result of changing his name. If he had continued to be Tulp, he argued, he would have had some incentive55 to an honorable life; but what self-respecting nigger could have so low-down a name as Eli, and be good for anything? All this warranted my boy in being proud of his name, and, so to speak, living up to it.
I have gossiped along without telling much of the long winter of 1757. In truth, there is little to tell. I happen to remember that it was a season of cruel hardship to many of our neighbors. But it was a happy time for me. What mattered it that the snow was piled outside high above my head; that food in the forest was so scarce that the wolves crept yelping56 close to our stockade57; that we had to eat cranberries58 to keep off the scurvy59, until I grew for all time to hate their very color; or that for five long months I never saw my mother and sisters, or went to church? It was very pleasant inside.
I seem still to see the square, home-like central room of the old house, with Mr. Stewart's bed in one corner, covered with a great robe of pieced panther skins. The smoky rafters above were hung with strings60 of onions, red-peppers, and long ears of Indian corn, the gold of which shone through pale parted husks and glowed in the firelight. The rude home-made table, chairs, and stools stood in those days upon a rough floor of hewn planks61, on projecting corners of which an unlucky toe was often stubbed. There were various skins spread on this floor, and others on the log walls, hung up to dry. Over the great stone mantel were suspended Mr. Stewart's guns, along with his sword and pistols. Back in the corners of the fireplace were hung traps, nets, and the like, while on the opposite side of the room was the master's bookcase, well filled with volumes in English, Latin, and other tongues. Three doors, low and unpanelled, opened from this room to the other chambers62 of the house--leading respectively to the kitchen, to my room, and to the room now set apart for my aunt and little Daisy.
No doubt it was a poor abode63, and scantily64 enough furnished, judged by present standards, but we were very comfortable in it, none the less. I worked pretty hard that winter on my Latin, conning65 C?sar for labor66 and Dr. Erasmus for play, and kept up my other studies as well, reading for the first time, I remember, the adventures of Robinson Crusoe. For the rest, I busied myself learning to make snow-shoes, to twist cords out of flax, to mould bullets, and to write legibly, or else played with Daisy and Tulp.
To confess how simply we amused ourselves, we three little ones, would be to speak in an unknown tongue, I fear, to modern children. Our stock of playthings was very limited. We had, as the basis of everything, the wooden works of the old clock, which served now for a gristmill like that of the Groats, now for a fort, again for a church. Then there were the spindles of a discarded spinning-wheel, and a small army of spools67 which my aunt used for winding68 linen69 thread. These we dressed in odd rags for dolls--soldiers, Indians, and fine ladies, and knights70 of old. To our contented fancy, there was endless interest in the lives and doings of these poor puppets. I made them illustrate71 the things I read, and the slave boy and tiny orphan72 girl assisted and followed on with equal enthusiasm, whether the play was of Alexander of Macedon, or Captain Kidd, or only a war-council of Delaware Indians, based upon Mr. Colden's book.
Sometimes, when it was warm enough to leave the hearth73, and Mr. Stewart desired not to be disturbed, we would transport ourselves and our games to my aunt's room. This would be a dingy74 enough place, I suppose, even to my eyes now, but it had a great charm then. Here from the rafters hung the dried, odoriferous herbs--sage, summer-savory, and mother-wort; bottles of cucumber ointment75 and of a liniment made from angle-worms--famous for cuts and bruises76; strings of dried apples and pumpkins77; black beans in their withered78 pods; sweet clover for the linen--and I know not what else besides. On the wall were two Dutch engravings of the killing79 of Jan and Cornelis de Wit by the citizens of The Hague, which, despite their hideous80 fidelity to details, had a great fascination81 for me.
My childhood comes back vividly82 indeed to me as I recall the good old woman, in her white cap and short gown (which she had to lift to get at the pocket tied over her petticoat by a string to her waist), walking up and down with the yarn83 taut84 from the huge, buzzing wheel, crooning Dutch hymns85 to herself the while, and thinking about our dinner.
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1
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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kernels
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| 谷粒( kernel的名词复数 )； 仁； 核； 要点 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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8
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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12
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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14
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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18
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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dignify
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| vt.使有尊严；使崇高；给增光 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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extol
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| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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egregious
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| adj.非常的，过分的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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32
skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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bartered
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| v.作物物交换，以货换货( barter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
savoring
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的现在分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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41
bartering
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| v.作物物交换，以货换货( barter的现在分词 ) | |
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42
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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43
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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44
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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45
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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48
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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50
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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51
larcenous
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| adj.盗窃的 | |
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52
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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53
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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55
incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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56
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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57
stockade
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| n.栅栏，围栏；v.用栅栏防护 | |
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58
cranberries
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| n.越橘( cranberry的名词复数 ) | |
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scurvy
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| adj.下流的，卑鄙的，无礼的；n.坏血病 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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64
scantily
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| adv.缺乏地；不充足地；吝啬地；狭窄地 | |
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conning
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| v.诈骗，哄骗( con的现在分词 )；指挥操舵( conn的现在分词 ) | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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67
spools
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| n.（绕线、铁线、照相软片等的）管( spool的名词复数 )；络纱；纺纱机；绕圈轴工人v.把…绕到线轴上（或从线轴上绕下来）( spool的第三人称单数 )；假脱机（输出或输入） | |
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68
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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70
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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73
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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75
ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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76
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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77
pumpkins
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| n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 )；南瓜的果肉，南瓜囊 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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79
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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81
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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82
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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83
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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