Were bred to speak, and sing, and learn the liberal arts.
The Cock and the Fox.
Thine is the adventure, thine the victory;
Palamon and Arcite.
During the rest of the journey, Morton, on Mrs. Holyoke's invitation, was one of the party. Again and again he was impelled3 to learn his fate; but recoiled4 from casting the die, dreading5 that his hour was not come. Still, though every day more helplessly spell-bound, his mood was not despondent6.
They came to the town of ——, a half day from home.
"My household gods are not far off," said Morton. "My father was born at Steuben, a few miles below, where my grandfather used to preach against King George, and stir up his parish to rebellion. I have relations there still, and have a mind to spend to-morrow with them."
This announcement proceeded much less from family affection than from another motive7. Mrs. Holyoke saw it in an instant.
"Excellent! Then Miss Leslie can accept her friend's invitation to make a day's visit at this place; and you will meet her and escort her to Boston."
And Morton, much rejoiced at this successful issue of his diplomacy8, repaired to his relatives at Steuben; Holyoke and his wife proceeded homeward; while Miss Leslie remained to accomplish the visit with her country friend.
Morton spent a quiet day in the primitive9 New England village, a place of which boyish association made him fond. On the next morning, Miss Leslie was to come to Steuben, with her hostess; but as there was an abundance of time before the train would appear, he strolled along a quiet road leading back into the country. He soon came to an old inn, over whose tottering10 porch King George's head might once have swung. Nothing human was astir. The ancient lilacs flaunted11 before the door; the tall sunflowers peered over the garden fence; the primeval well-sweep slanted12 aloft, far above the mossy shingles13 of the roof. The rural quiet of the place tempted14 him. He sat under the porch, and watched the swallows sailing in and out of the great barn whose doors stood wide open, on the opposite side of the road.
A voice broke the silence—a voice from the barn yard. It was the voice of a hen mother, the announcement that an egg was born into the world. Not the proud, exulting15 cackle which ordinarily proclaims that auspicious16 event, but a repining, discontented cry, now rising in vehement17 remonstrance18 with destiny, now sinking into a low cluck of disgust. Morton, skilled in the language of birds, construed19 these melancholy20 cacklings as follows:—
"Whither does all this tend? Why is my happiness blighted21, my aspirations22 repressed? Why am I forever penned up within these narrow precincts, amid low domestic cares, and sordid23, uncongenial, unsympathizing associates? And thou, my white and spotless offspring, what shall be thy fate? To be steeped in hot water, and eaten with a spoon? Or art thou to be the germ of an existence wretched as my own, doomed24 to a ceaseless round of daily parturition25? O, weariness! O, misery26! O, despair!"
The advent1 of a human biped here enlivened the scene. This was a young gentleman on horseback, a collegian to all appearance, admirably mounted, but bestriding his horse with the look of one who has just passed his first course under the riding master, and rides by the book, as Touchstone quarrelled. This important personage, with an air oddly compounded of assumption and timidity, proceeded to call the hostler, and order oats for his horse, after which he strutted28 into the house, switching his leg with his whip.
As ample time remained, Morton continued his walk along the road, his mood in harmony with the brightness of the morning. He was in a humor to please himself with trifles. A ground squirrel chirruped at him from a crevice29 of the wall. He stood watching the small, shy visage, as it looked out at him. Then a red squirrel, a much livelier companion, uttered its trilling cry from a clump30 of hazel bushes. Morton seated himself on a stone very near it. The squirrel resented the intrusion, ran out on a fence rail towards the offender31, chattered32, scolded, swelled33 himself like a miniature muff, made his tail and his whole body vibrate with his wrath34; then suddenly dodged35 down behind the rail and peered over it at the trespasser36, his nose and one eye alone being visible; then bolted into full sight again, and scolded as before, jerking himself from side to side in the extremity37 of his petulance38; till at last, without the smallest apparent cause, he suddenly wheeled about and fled, bounding like the wind along the top of the stone wall.
This interview over, Morton looked at his watch, saw that it was time to go back towards the village, and began to retrace39 his steps accordingly. He had gone but a few paces, when he saw a countryman, a simple-looking fellow, running at top speed, and in great excitement, up a byway, which led to the railroad, the latter crossing it by a high bridge, at some distance from the station.
"What's the matter?" demanded Morton.
"What of them?"
"They'll all go to smash, and no mistake."
"What!" cried Morton, aghast.
"Fact, mister. Some born devil has been and sawed the bridge timbers most through in the middle."
"What!" cried Morton again.
"Sure as I stand here! I seen the heaps of sawdust on the road. That's the way I come to take notice. The minute the locomotive gets on the bridge, down she'll go, and no two ways about it."
Morton had no doubt that the man was right. The newspapers, within the last few weeks, had contained various accounts of impediments, great and small, maliciously41 placed on railroads. It was a species of villany which was just then having its run, as incendiarism will sometimes have; and a like case of a bridge partly sawed through had lately occurred in a neighboring state.
"You fool!" exclaimed Morton, in anguish42 and despair; "why didn't you get on the track, and stop the train?"
"I'd like to see you stop the train!" retorted the man.
Morton turned to run for the road, bent43 on stopping the engine, or letting it pass over him. But as he turned, a new arrival caught his eye. This was the cavalier who had baited his horse at the inn, and who, seeing the excited looks of the two men, had checked his pace, and was looking at them with much curiosity.
Crazed with agitation44, and hardly knowing what he did, Morton leaped towards him, seized his horse, a powerful and high-mettled animal, by the head, and, with a few broken words of explanation, called on him to dismount. The astonished collegian did not comply. Morton bore back fiercely on the bit; the horse plunged45 and snorted; the rider clutched the pommel; Morton took him by the arm, drew him to the ground, mounted at a bound after him, and, as he touched the saddle, struck his whalebone walking stick with all his force over the horse's flank. The horse leaped forward frantically46, and rushed headlong down the road. His discarded rider saw his hoofs47 twinkling for an instant out of the cloud of dust, and thought he had had a Heaven-directed escape from a madman.
The small village above Steuben, at which Miss Leslie and her friend were to take the train, was three miles off. The road ran almost directly towards it for more than three fourths of the way, when it made a bend to the right. Morton, with his furious riding, very soon reached this point. He could see the station house before him, on the left, and not more than a third of a mile distant. The space between, though uneven48, had no visible impediments but a few low fences and scattered49 clumps50 of bushes. Morton pushed through the barberry growth that fringed the road, galloped51 over the hard pasture, leaped one fence, passed a gap in another, and half way to his goal, found himself and his horse in a quagmire52. At this moment, straining his eyes towards the cluster of houses, he saw, with agony at his heart, a white puff53 of vapor54 rising above the trees beyond. Then the dark outline of the train came into view, checking its way, and stopping, half hidden behind the buildings.
Morton knew that it would stop only for a moment, and plied55 his horse with merciless blows. The horse plunged through the mire,—the mud and water spouting56 high above his rider's head,—gained the firm ground, and bounded forward wild with fright and fury. It was too late. The bell rang, and with quicker and quicker pants, the engine began to move. Morton shouted,—gesticulated,—still it did not stop, though the passengers seemed to take alarm, for a head was thrust from every window, while the occupants of an open carriage drawn57 up on the road were bending eagerly towards him.
Morton wheeled to the left, and urged his horse up the embankment in front of the train. With a violent effort, he reached the top. The engineer was running against time, and cared for nothing but winning his match. He blew the steam whistle; and as Morton dragged on the curb58 with desperate strength, the horse reared upright, pawing the air. But, as he rose, Morton disengaged his feet, slid over the crupper to the ground, and let go the rein59. The horse leaped down the bank, and scoured60 over the meadow, mad with terror. Morton took his stand in the middle of the track, and facing the advancing train, stood immovable as a post. The engineer reversed the engine, brought it to a stand within a few yards of him, and, with a profusion61 of oaths, demanded what he wanted.
Before the breathless Morton could well explain himself, the passengers began to leap out of the cars, and running forward, gathered about him. He soon found words to make the case known. But one object alone engrossed62 him. He pushed on among the throng63 of questioning, eager men, mounted the foremost car, and made his way through it, the crowd pushing behind and around him, and plying64 him with questions, to which, in the confusion and abstraction of his faculties65, he gave wild and random66 answers. He looked at every face. Edith Leslie was not there. He crossed the platform into the next car, passed through it, and still could not find her. It was the last in the train. And now a strange feeling came over him, a bitterness, a sense of disappointment, as if his efforts and his pangs67 had been uncalled for and profitless; for so intensely had his thoughts been concentred on one object, that he forgot for the moment the hundred men and women whom he had saved from deadly jeopardy68.
The train rolled back to the station, the distance being only a few rods. Morton got out and leaned against the wall of the house. Men thronged69 about him with questions, exclamations70, thanks, praises. The reaction of his violent emotion produced in him a frame of mind almost childish. He was restless to free himself from the crowd.
"It's nothing; it's nothing," he answered, as fresh praises were showered on him. "I saw the train going to the devil, and did what I could to save it. Any of you, I dare say, would have done as much. Be good enough to let me have a little air."
The crowd gave way, and he walked forward past the corner of the building. Here, standing71 on the road, close at hand, he suddenly saw an open carriage, and in it, pale as death, sat Miss Leslie, with her friend, and a boy of twelve, her friend's brother. He sprang towards it with an irrepressible impulse.
"My God! Miss Leslie, I thought you were in the train."
"And so we should have been," said the boy, "but the cars came in three minutes before their time."
Edith Leslie did not utter a word.
Some of the passengers were soon about him again. He repeated to them what he knew of the danger, and told them how he had learned it. In a few minutes, several men were seen at a distance on the railroad, running forward with a handkerchief tied to a stick to warn off the train. A few minutes later, a Connecticut pedler, one of the passengers, came up to Morton.
"Mister, they're going to do the handsome thing by you. They're getting up a subscription72 to give you a piece of silver plate."
"The deuse they are!" was Morton's ungrateful response.
Going into the room where the passengers were met, he found that the pedler had told the truth; on which, for the first and last time in his life, he addressed an assemblage of his fellow-citizens. He told them that he thanked them for their kind intention; but that if he had done them a service, he wished for no other recompense than the knowledge of it, and urged them, if they did any thing in the matter, to devote their efforts to gaining the arrest and punishment of the scoundrel who had attempted the mischief73. His oratory74 was much applauded; many, who had thought themselves in for the subscription, joyfully75 buttoned their pockets, and, instead of the plate, he received a series of complimentary76 resolutions, to be published in the newspapers.
Meanwhile, having made his speech, he had lost no time in making his escape also. Going back to the carriage, Miss Leslie's friend asked him to accompany them home, whence they could return to take the afternoon train, when the bridge would, no doubt, be repaired. Morton, however, declined the invitation, and, having sent two men to catch the horse, with instructions to refer the distressed77 owner to him, he drove in a farmer's wagon78 to Steuben. In a few hours, he rejoined Miss Leslie and her friend; and having escorted both safely to town, took leave of the former, that evening, at the door of her father's house.
Several of the newspapers next morning contained the resolutions passed by the passengers, trumpeting79 Morton's humanity, presence of mind, &c. He himself very well knew that the praise was undeserved, since he had neither thought nor cared for the objects of his supposed humanity, and, far from acting80 with presence of mind, had scarcely known what he was about.
The bridge had been cut by an Irish mechanic in the employ of the road, who, for some misdemeanor, had been reprimanded and turned out, and who had passed half the night in preparing his demoniac revenge. It afterwards appeared that he had been a state's prison convict in a neighboring state, and that he would have been still in confinement81, had not the officious zeal82 of certain benevolent83 persons availed to set him loose before his time.
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1
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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3
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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5
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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7
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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8
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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9
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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10
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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11
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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12
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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13
shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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14
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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15
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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16
auspicious
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| adj.吉利的；幸运的，吉兆的 | |
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17
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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18
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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19
construed
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| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
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20
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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21
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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22
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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23
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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24
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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parturition
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| n.生产，分娩 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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27
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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28
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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30
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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32
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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33
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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34
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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trespasser
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| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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39
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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40
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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41
maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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42
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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43
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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44
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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45
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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46
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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47
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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49
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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50
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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51
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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52
quagmire
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| n.沼地 | |
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53
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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55
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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56
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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57
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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59
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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60
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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61
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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62
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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63
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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64
plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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65
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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66
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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67
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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68
jeopardy
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| n.危险；危难 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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71
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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72
subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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73
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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74
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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75
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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76
complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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77
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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78
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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79
trumpeting
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的现在分词形式） | |
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80
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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81
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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82
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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83
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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