The laughter of youth and beauty sifted4 down from open windows.
Preparations were being hurried for the ball in honor of the departingcadets--Custis Lee, his classmate, Jeb Stuart, and little Phil Sheridanof Ohio whom they had invited in from Washington.
The fact that the whole family was going to West Point with the boys andColonel Robert E. Lee, the new Superintendent5, made no difference. Oneexcuse for an old-fashioned dance in a Southern home was as good asanother. The main thing was to bring friends and neighbors, sisters andcousins and aunts together for an evening of joy.
A whippo'will cried his weird6 call from a rendezvous7 in the shadows ofthe lawn, as Sam entered the great hall and began to light the hundredsof wax tapers8 in the chandeliers.
"Move dat furniture back now!" he cried to his assistants. "And mind yo'
p's and q's. Doan yer break nuttin."His sable9 helpers quietly removed the slender mahogany and rosewoodpieces to the adjoining rooms. They laughed at Sam's new-found note ofdignity and authority.
He was acting10 butler to-night in Uncle Ben's place. No servant wasallowed to work when ill--no matter how light the tasks to which he wasassigned. Sam was but twenty years old and he had been given the honorof superintending the arrangements for the dance. And, climax11 of all,he had been made leader of the music with the sole right to call thedances, although he played only the triangle in the orchestra. He was inhigh fettle.
When the first carriage entered the grounds his keen ear caught thecrunch of wheels on the gravel12. He hurried to call the mistress andyoung misses to their places at the door. He also summoned the boys fromtheir rooms upstairs. He had seen the flash of spotless white in thecarriage. It meant beauty calling to youth on the hill. Sam knew.
Phil came downstairs with Custis. The spacious13 sweep of the hall, itswaxed floor clear of furniture, with hundreds of blinking candlesflashing on its polished surface, caught his imagination. It _was_ afairy world--this generous Southern home. In spite of its wide spaces,and its dignity, it was friendly. It caught his boy's heart.
Mrs. Lee was just entering. Custis' eyes danced at the sight of hismother in full dress. He grasped Phil's arm and whispered:
"Isn't my mother the most beautiful woman you ever saw?"He spoke14 the words half to himself. It was the instinctive15 worship ofthe true Southern boy, breathed in genuine reverence16, with an awe17 thatwas the expression of a religion.
"I was just thinking the same thing, Custis," was the sober reply.
"I beg your pardon, Phil," he hastened to apologize. "I didn't mean tobrag about my mother to you. It just slipped out. I couldn't help it. Iwas talking to myself.""You needn't apologize. I know how you feel. She's already made me thinkI'm one of you--"He paused and watched Mary Lee enter from the lawn leaning on Stuart'sarm. Stuart's boyish banter18 was still ringing in her ears as she smiledat him indulgently. She hurried to her mother with an easy, gracefulstep and took her place beside her. She was fine, exquisite20, bewitching.
She had never come out in Society. She had been born in it. She had hersweethearts before thirteen and not one had left a shadow on her quiet,beautiful face. She demanded, by her right of birth as a Southern girl,years of devotion. And the Southern boy of the old regime was willing toserve.
Phil stood with Stuart and watched Custis kiss a dozen pretty girls asthey arrived and call each one cousin.
"Is it a joke?" he asked Stuart curiously21.
"What?""This cousin business.""Not much. You don't think I'd let him be such a pig if I could helphim, do you?""Are they all kin1?""Yes--" Stuart laughed. "Some of it gets pretty thin in the second andthird cousin lines. But it's thick enough for him to get a kiss fromevery one--confound him!"The hall was crowding rapidly. The rustle22 of silk, the flash of pearlsand diamonds, the hum of soft drawling voices filled the perfumed air.
Phil's eyes were dazzled with the bevies23 of the younger set, fromsixteen to eighteen, dressed in soft tulle and organdy; slow of speech;their voices low, musical, delicious. He was introduced to so many hishead began to swim. To save his soul he couldn't pick out one moreentrancing than another. The moment they spied his West Point uniform hewas fair game. They made eyes at him. They languished24 and pretended tobe smitten25 at first sight. Twice he caught himself about to believe oneof them. They seemed so sincere, so dreadfully in earnest. And then hecaught the faintest twinkle in the corner of a dark eye and blushed tothink himself such a fool.
But the sensation of being lionized was delightful26. He was in a whirlof foolish joy when he suddenly realized that Stuart had deserted27 him,slipped through the crowd and found his way to Mary Lee. He threw aquick glance at the pair and one of the four beauties hovering28 aroundhim began to whisper:
"Jeb Stuart's just crazy about Mary--""Did you ever see anything like it!""He couldn't stop even to say how-d'y-do.""And she's utterly29 indifferent--"Sam's voice suddenly rang out with unusual unction and deliberation. Hewas imitating Uncle Ben's most eloquent30 methods.
"Congress-man and Mrs. Rog-er A. Pry-or!"Mrs. Lee hastened to greet the young editor who had taken high rank inCongress from the day of his entrance.
Mrs. Pryor was evidently as proud of her young Congressman31 as he was ofher regal beauty.
Colonel Lee joined the group and led the lawmaker into the library for achat on politics.
The first notes of a violin swept the crowd. The hum of conversation andthe ripple32 of laughter softened33 into silence. The dusky orchestra is inplace on the little platform. Sam, in all his glory, rises and faces theeager youth.
He was dressed in his young master's last year's suit, immaculate bluebroadcloth and brass34 buttons, ruffled35 shirt and black-braided watchguard hanging from his neck. His eyes sparkled with pride and his rich,sonorous36 voice rang over the crowd like the deep notes of a flute37:
"Choose yo' pardners fur de fust cowtillun!"Again the quick rustle of silk and tulle, the low hum of excited, youngvoices and the couples are in place.
A boy cries to the leader:
"We're all ready, Sam."The young caller of the set knew his business better. He lifted his handin a gesture of reverence and silence, as he glanced toward the librarydoor.
"Jes' a minute la-dees, an' gem-mens," he softly drawled. "Marse RobertE. Lee and Missis will lead dis set!"The Colonel briskly entered from the library with his wife on his arm. Aripple of applause swept the room as they took their places with the gayyoungsters.
Sam lifted his hand; the music began--sweet and low, vibrating with thesensuous touch of the negro slave whose soul was free in its joyousmelody.
At the first note of his triangle, loud above the music rang Sam'svoice:
"Honors to yo' pardners!"With graceful19 courtesies and stately bows the dance began. And over alla glad negro called the numbers:
"Forward Fours!"The caller's eyes rolled and his body swayed with the rhythm ofthe dance as he watched each set with growing pride. They danced aquadrille, a mazurka, another quadrille, a schottische, the lancers,another quadrille, and another and another. They paused for supper atmidnight and then danced them over again.
While the fine young forms swayed to exquisite rhythm and the musicfloated over all, the earnest young Congressman bent38 close to his hostin a corner of the library.
"I sincerely hope, Colonel Lee, that you can see your way clear to makea reply to this book of Mrs. Stowe which Ruffin has sent you.""I can't see it yet, Mr. Pryor--""Ruffin is a terrible old fire-eater, I know," the Congressman admitted.
"But _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ is the most serious blow the South has receivedfrom the Abolitionists. And what makes it so difficult is that itsappeal is not to reason. It is to sentiment. To the elemental emotionsof the mob. No matter whether its picture is true or false, the resultwill be the same unless the minds who read it can be cured of itspoison. It has become a sensation. Every Northern Congressman has readit. A half million copies have been printed and the presses can't keepup with the demands. This book is storing powder in the souls of themasses who don't know how to think, because they've never been trainedto think. This explosive emotion is the preparation for fanaticism39. Weonly wait the coming of the fanatic--the madman who may lift a torchand hurl40 it into this magazine. The South is asleep. And when we don'tsleep, we dance. There's no use fooling ourselves. We're dancing on thecrust of a volcano."Pryor rose.
"I've a number with Mrs. Pryor. I wish you'd think it over, Colonel.
This message is my big reason for missing a night session to be here."Lee nodded and strolled out on the lawn before the white pillars of theportico to consider the annoying request. He hated controversy41.
Yet he was not the type of man to run from danger. The breed of men fromwhich he sprang had always faced the enemy when the challenge came.
In the carriage of his body there was a quiet pride--a feeling not ofvanity, but of instinctive power. It was born in him through generationsof men who had done the creative thinking of a nation in the building.
His face might have been described as a little too regular--a little toohandsome perhaps for true greatness, but for the look of deep thought inhis piercing eyes. And the finely chiseled42 lines of character, positive,clean-cut, vigorous. He had backbone43.
And yet he was not a bitter partisan44. He used his brain. He reasoned. Helooked at the world through kindly45, conservative eyes. He feared God,only. He believed in his wife, his children, his blood. And he lovedVirginia, counting it the highest honor to be--not seem to be--anold-fashioned Virginia gentleman.
He believed in democracy guided by true leaders. This reservation wasnot a compromise. It was a cardinal46 principle. He could conceive ofno democracy worth creating or preserving which did not produce thesuperman to lead, shape, inspire and direct its life. The man called ofGod to this work was fulfilling a divine mission. He must be of the verynecessity of his calling a nobleman.
Without vanity he lived daily in the consciousness of his own call tothis exalted47 ideal. It made his face, in repose48, grave. His gravity camefrom the sense of duty and the consciousness of problems to be met andsolved as his fathers before him had met and solved great issues.
His conservatism had its roots in historic achievements and the chillthat crept into his heart as he thought of this book came, not from thefear of the possible clash of forces in the future, but from the dreadof changes which might mean the loss of priceless things in a nation'slife. He believed in every fiber49 of his being that, in spite of slavery,the old South in her ideals, her love of home, her worship of God, herpatriotism, her joy of living and her passion for beauty stood forthings that are eternal.
And great changes _were_ sweeping50 over the Republic. He felt this to-dayas never before. The Washington on whose lights he stood gazing wasrapidly approaching the end of the era in which the Nation had evolved asoul. His people had breathed that soul into the Republic. To thishour the mob had never ruled America. Its spirit had never dominated acrisis. The nation had been shaped from its birth through the heart andbrain of its leaders.
But he recalled with a pang51 that the race of Supermen was passing.
Calhoun had died two years ago. Henry Clay had died within the past twomonths. Daniel Webster lay on his death bed at Mansfield. And therewere none in sight to take their places. We had begun the process ofleveling. We had begun to degrade power, to scatter52 talent, to pull downour leaders to the level of the mob, in the name of democracy.
He faced this fact with grave misgivings53. He believed that the firstrequirement of human society, if it shall live, is the discovery of menfit to command--to lead.
With the passing of Clay, Calhoun and Webster the Washington on whichhe gazed, the Washington of 1852, had ceased to be a forum54 of greatthought, of high thinking and simple living. It had become the scene ofluxury and extravagance. The two important establishments of the citywere Gautier's, the restaurateur and caterer--the French genius whoprepared the feasts for jeweled youth; and Gait, the jeweler who soldthe precious stones to adorn55 the visions of beauty at these banquets.
The two political parties had fallen to the lowest depths of grovelingto vote getting by nominating the smallest men ever named forPresidential honors. The Democrats56 had passed all their real leaders andnamed as standard-bearer an obscure little politician of New Hampshire,Mr. Franklin Pierce. His sole recommendation for the exalted office wasthat he would carry one or two doubtful Northern states and with thesolid South could thus be elected. The Whig convention in Baltimorehad cast but thirty-two votes for Daniel Webster and had nominated amilitary figurehead, General Winfield Scott.
The Nation was without a leader. And the low rumble57 of the crowd--thegrowl of the primal58 beast--could be heard in the distance withincreasing distinctness.
The watcher turned from the White City across the Potomac and slowlywalked into his rose garden. Even in September the riot of color wasbeyond description. In the splendor59 of the full Southern moon could beseen all shades from deep blood red to pale pink. All sizes from thetiniest four-leaf wild flowers to the gorgeous white and yellow massesthat reared their forms like waves of the surf. He breathed the perfumeand smiled again. A mocking bird, dropping from the bough60 of a holly,was singing the glory of a second blooming.
The scene of entrancing beauty drove the thought of strife61 from hisheart. He turned back toward the house and its joys of youth.
Sam's sonorous voice was ringing in deliberation the grand call of theevening's festivities:
"Choose-yo-pardners-fer-de-ol-Virginy-Reel!"And then the stir, the rush, the commotion62 for place in the final dance.
The reel reaches the whole length of the hall with every foot of spacecrowded. There are thirty couples in line when the musicians pause, tunetheir instruments and with a sudden burst play "The Gray Eagle." TheVirginia Reel stirs the blood of these Southern boys and girls. Itsswift, graceful action and the inspiration of the old music seem part ofthe heart beat of the youth and beauty that sway to its cadences63.
The master of Arlington smiled at the memory of the young Congressman'seloquence. Surely it was only a flight of rhetoric64.
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1
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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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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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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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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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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bevies
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| n.（尤指少女或妇女的）一群( bevy的名词复数 )；（鸟类的）一群 | |
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languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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Congressman
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| n.（美）国会议员 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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fanaticism
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| n.狂热，盲信 | |
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hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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41
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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42
chiseled
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| adj.凿刻的，轮廓分明的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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partisan
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| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
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45
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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46
cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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47
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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48
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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49
fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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50
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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51
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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52
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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53
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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54
forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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56
democrats
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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57
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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60
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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61
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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62
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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63
cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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