The fact that he had failed to capture Aaron struck him as a personal affront5. He was stung by it. He felt that he and his father had been wronged by some one, he couldn't say who, but not by the runaway6, for what was a "nigger," anyhow? After a while the idea was borne in upon him that somehow he and his family had been "insulted" by the Abercrombies. He arrived at this conclusion by a very circuitous7 route.[254] The Abercrombies were harboring a Yankee in their house; and if they had the stomach to do that, why wasn't it just as easy for them to harbor "pap's" runaway nigger, especially when they were so keen to buy him?
Another thing that stung him, though he never mentioned it, was the sudden and unexplainable attitude of his father toward Aaron. Young Gossett had observed that his father appeared to lose interest in the runaway after Mr. Jim Simmons failed to catch him, but the fact was not impressed upon the young man's mind until the day he told the elder Gossett about the queer sight he saw in Abercrombie's pasture.
"Were you hunting the runaway?" his father asked, with some impatience8.
"Why, no, pap. We weren't doing a thing in the world, but crossing the pasture on our way to the Turner old fields."
"Very well, then. Do as I do; let him alone. If you don't you'll get hurt. I know what I'm talking about."
This fairly took George's breath away. "Why, pap!" he cried; "ain't he your nigger? Didn't you buy him and pay your money down for him?[255] Don't you want him out of the woods? And who's going to hurt me, pap?"
"You mind what I tell you," snapped the elder Gossett. "I'm older than you, and when I know a thing I know it. Let the runaway alone."
It would have been better for both if Mr. Gossett had told his son of his experience with Aaron. As it was, George was in danger of losing the little respect he had for his father. When he was warned that he would be hurt if he kept on trying to capture Aaron, he suspected at once that the warning related to Mr. Abercrombie. Who else would dare to hurt him, or even threaten to hurt him? Certainly not the runaway. Who, then, but Abercrombie?
The suggestion was enough. It made George Gossett so furious that he never thought to reflect that he himself had invented it. Once invented, however, every circumstance seemed to fit it. His father had suddenly lost interest in the runaway, though he had paid out money for him, and had hardly received a week's work in return. Why? Because Mr. Abercrombie had overawed[256] his father in a crowd, just as he did the day Aaron was sold from the block. The young man had not forgotten that episode, and his resentment11 was rekindled12 and grew hotter than ever, for it was now reinforced by inward shame and disgust at the way his father had allowed himself to be overcome—and that, too, in regard to his own property.
The first result of George Gossett's resentment was his nearly successful effort to make the Teacher, Richard Hudspeth, the victim of the violent and natural prejudice that existed at that time against abolitionists; an event that has been related in "The Story of Aaron." The rescue of the Teacher by Mr. Abercrombie, and the fact that George Gossett was knocked flat by the Black Stallion, caused his resentment to rise to a white heat. He brooded over the matter until, at last, a desire to injure Mr. Abercrombie became an uncontrollable mania14, and it went so far that one night, inflamed15 by whiskey, he set fire to the dwelling16-house of the man he believed to be his father's enemy.
Then it was that Aaron rescued Little Crotchet and Free Polly, and fell fainting to the ground.[257] And then it was that Mr. Gossett seized the first plausible17 opportunity that had presented itself to sell Aaron to Mr. Abercrombie. It is true, he drove a sharp bargain, suspecting that the runaway had seriously injured himself; but he would have sold Aaron in any event, being anxious to get rid of him.
George Gossett disappeared that night and was seen no more in that region. Years afterward18, a homesick Georgian returning from Texas brought word that George Gossett had made a name for himself in that State, being known as a tough and a terror.
It's an ill wind that blows no good to any one. George Gossett little knew, when he applied19 the torch to the Abercrombie dwelling, that the light of it would call Aaron from the wildwoods and show him the way to a home where he was to live, happy in the love of Little Crotchet and of children as yet unborn, and happy in the respect and confidence of those whose interest he served.
Perhaps if George Gossett could have looked into the future, the blaze that produced these results would never have been kindled13, and in that event the story of Aaron in the Wildwoods could[258] have been spun20 out at greater length, but the conclusion would not have been different.
Richard Hudspeth remained long enough to see Aaron duly installed in his new home, for the Abercrombie mansion21 was at once rebuilt on a larger scale than ever, and to see him serve as the major-domo of the establishment. But the departure of the Teacher was not delayed for many months after his experience with the reckless and irresponsible young men who had placed themselves under the leadership of George Gossett. Duties more pressing and more important than those he had assumed in Georgia called him to his Northern home, where a larger career awaited him—a career that made him famous.
He became the most intimate adviser22 of Abraham Lincoln, and that great man found in him what, at the outset, he found in few New England men, the deepest sympathy and highest appreciation23.
It was characteristic of Richard Hudspeth that the treatment he received at the hands of George Gossett and his night riders bred no resentment against the Southern people, and the trait of character that shut the door of his mind against all[259] petty prejudices and rancorous judgments24 was precisely25 the trait that attracted first the notice and finally the friendship of Mr. Lincoln.
Aaron was as much of a mystery to the negroes on the Abercrombie place when he came to move about among them as he was when he roamed in the wildwoods. He was as much of a mystery to them years afterwards, when Buster John and Sweetest Susan came upon the scene, as he was when he first made his appearance on the place, but by that time the mystery he presented was a familiar one. The negroes had not solved it, but they were used to it.
At first it seemed that they would never cease to wonder. They watched his every movement, and always with increasing awe10 and respect. He went about among them freely, but not familiarly. He was not of them, and they knew it. He was kind and considerate, especially where the women and children were concerned, but always reserved, always dignified26, always serious. Yet he never lost his temper, never frowned, and was never known to utter an angry word or make a gesture of irritation27. He had the remarkable28 gift of patience, that seemed to be so highly developed[260] in some animals. It was Uncle Fountain who drew the parallel between the patience displayed by Aaron and that of the animals, and added this, after turning the matter over in his mind: "Mo' speshually de creeturs what kin3 see in de dark."
On rare occasions Aaron would go into one of the cabins where the negroes were enjoying themselves, and there would be a mighty29 hustling30 around in that cabin until he had the most comfortable chair, or stool, or bench, or tub turned bottom-side up. At such times he would say, "Sing!" And then, after some display of shyness, Randall or Turin would strike into a quaint31 plantation32 melody, and carry it along; and as their voices died away the powerful and thrilling tenor33 of Susy's Sam, and Jemimy's quavering soprano would take up the refrain, all the singers joining in at the close. No matter what melody was sung, or what words were employed, the instinct and emotions of the negroes gave to their performance the form and essence of true balladry,—the burden, the refrain, the culmination34, and the farewell; or, as the writers of pretty verse now call it, the envoi.
[261]
Often on such occasions Aaron would enter the negro cabin bearing the Little Master in his arms. And then the negroes were better pleased, for the Little Master somehow seemed to stand between them and the awesome35 being they knew as Aaron. At such times the arms of Big Sal ached to hold Little Crotchet, the lad seemed to be so pale and frail36. Once she made bold to say to Aaron:—
"I kin hol' 'im some ef you tired."
"I won't be tired of that till I'm dead," responded Aaron.
"I know mighty well how dat is," responded Big Sal humbly37. "I des wanted ter hol' 'im. I has helt him."
"She wants to hold you," said Aaron to the Little Master.
And the reply was, "Well, why not?"
Whereupon Big Sal took the lad in her arms, and when the rest began to sing she swayed her strong body back and forth38, and joined in the song with a voice so low and soft and sweet that it seemed to be the undertone of melody itself; and the effect of it was so soothing39 that when the song was ended the Little Master was fast[262] asleep and smiling, and Big Sal leaned over him with such a yearning40 at her heart that only a word or a look would have been necessary to set her to weeping. Neither then nor ever afterwards did she know the reason why or seek to discover it. Enough for her that it was so.
Something in her attitude told the rest of the negroes that the Little Master was asleep, and so when they sang another song they pitched their voices low,—so low that the melody seemed to come drifting through the air and in at the door from far away. When it was ended nothing would do but each negro must come forward on tiptoe and take a look at the Little Master, who was still asleep and smiling.
When Aaron rose to go Big Sal was somewhat embarrassed. She didn't want the Little Master awakened41, and yet she didn't know how he could be transferred to Aaron's arms without arousing him. But the Son of Ben Ali solved that problem. He nodded to Big Sal and motioned toward the door, and she, carrying the Little Master in her strong arms, went out into the dark. Aaron paused at the threshold, raised his right hand above his head, and followed Big Sal. This gesture he always made by way of salutation and farewell on the threshold of every door he entered or went out of, whether the room was full of people or empty. Whether it was the door of his master's house or of Timoleon's stable, he paused and raised his right hand.
The negroes noted42 it, and, simple as it was, it served to deepen the mystery in which Aaron seemed to be enveloped43; and among themselves they shook their heads and whispered that he must be a "cunjur" man.
But Aaron was not troubled by whisperings that never reached his ears, nor by the strange imaginings of the negroes. He had other things to think of—one thing in particular that seemed to him to be most serious. He could see that Little Crotchet was gradually growing weaker and weaker. It was some time before he discovered this. We know that the trunks of trees slowly expand, but we do not see the process going on.
Little Crotchet seemed to be growing weaker day by day, and yet the process was so gradual that only the most careful observation could detect it. The burning of the house was something[264] of a shock to him. He was not frightened by that event, and never for a moment lost his self-possession; but the spectacle of the fierce red flames mounting high in the air, their red tongues darting44 out and lapping about in space, and then, having found nothing to feed on, curling back and devouring45 the house, roaring and growling46, and snapping and hissing,—this spectacle was so unexpected and so impossible in that place that the energy Little Crotchet lost in trying to fit the awful affair to his experience never came back to him. He never lost the feeling of numbness47 that came over him as he saw the house disappear in smoke and flame.
But it was weeks—months—after that before Aaron made his discovery, a discovery that could only be confirmed by the keenest and most patient watchfulness48. For Little Crotchet was never more cheerful. And he was restless, too; always eager to be going. But Aaron soon saw that if the lad went galloping49 about on the Gray Pony50 as often as before, he did not go so far. Nor did he use his crutches51 so freely,—the crutches on which he had displayed such marvelous nimbleness.
[265]
And so from day to day Aaron saw that the Little Master was slowly failing. The lad found the nights longer, and Aaron had great trouble to drive away the red goblin, Pain. Thus the days slipped by, and the weeks ran into months, and the months counted up a year lacking a fortnight. This fortnight found the Little Master in bed both day and night, still happy and cheerful, but weak and pale. Always at night Aaron was sitting by the bed, and sometimes the lad would send for Big Sal. He was so cheerful that he deceived everybody except the doctor and Aaron as to his condition.
But one day the doctor came and sat by the Little Master's bedside longer than usual. The lad was cheerful as ever, but the doctor knew. As he was going away he gave some information to the father and mother that caused them to turn pale. The mother, indeed, would have rushed weeping to her son. Was it for this,—for this,—her darling child had been born? The doctor stayed her. It was indeed for this her darling child had been born. Would she hasten it? Why not let the mystery come to him as a friend and comforter,—as the friend of[266] friends,—as a messenger from our dear Lord, the Prince of Peace and Joy?
And so the poor mother dried her eyes as best she could and took her place by the Little Master's bedside. The lad was cheerful and his eyes were as bright as a bird's. Doctors do not know everything, the mother thought, and, taking heart of hope, smiled as Little Crotchet prattled52 away.
Nothing would do but he must have a look at the toys that used to amuse him when he was a little bit of a boy; and in getting out the old toys the mother found a shoe he had worn when he first began to walk,—a little shoe out at the toe and worn at the heel.
This interested the lad more than all the toys. He held it in his hand and measured it with his thumb. And was it truly true that he had ever worn a shoe as small as that? The shoe reminded him of something else he had been thinking of. He had dreamed that when he got well he would need his crutches no more, and he wondered how it would feel to walk with his feet on the ground.
And there was the old popgun, too, still smelling of chinaberries. If Aaron only but knew it, that popgun had been a wonderful gun. Yes,[267] siree! the bird that didn't want to get hurt when that popgun was in working order had to run mighty fast or fly mighty high. But, heigh-ho! he was too old and too large for popguns now, and when he got well, which would be pretty soon, he would have a sure-enough gun, and then he would get a powder flask53 and a shot bag and mount the Gray Pony and shoot—well, let's see what he would shoot: not the gray squirrels, they were too pretty; not the shy partridges, they might have nests or young ones somewhere; not the rabbits—they were too funny with their pop eyes and big ears. Well, he could shoot at a mark, and that's just what he would do.
And when night fell, the Little Master wanted to hear the negroes sing. And he wanted mother and father and sister to hear them too—not the loud songs, but the soft and sweet ones. But the negroes wouldn't feel like singing at all if everybody was in the room with them, and mother and father and sister could sit in the next room and pretend they were not listening. And so it was arranged.
When the negroes arrived and were ushered54 into the room by Mammy Lucy, they were so embarrassed[268] and felt so much out of place they hardly knew what to do, or say, or how to begin. Aaron was carrying the Little Master in his arms, walking up and down, up and down, and his long strides and supple55 knees gave a swinging motion to his body that was infinitely56 soothing and restful to the Little Master. Swinging back and forth, up and down, the Son of Ben Ali paid no attention to the negroes, and they stood confused for a moment, but only for a moment. Suddenly there came streaming into the room the strain of a heart-breaking melody, rising and falling, falling and rising, as the leaves of a weeping willow57 are blown by the wind; drifting away and floating back, as the foam58 of the wave is swayed by the sea.
Little Crotchet lay still in Aaron's arms for ever so long. Was he listening? Who knows? He was almost within hearing of the songs of the angels. Suddenly he raised his head in the pause of the song—
"Tell them all good-night. Tell mother"—
Aaron stopped his swinging walk and placed the Little Master on the bed and stood beside it, his right hand raised above his head. It might have been a benediction59, it might have been a prayer. The negroes interpreted it as a signal of dismissal. One by one they went softly to the bedside and gazed on the Little Master. He might have been asleep, for he was smiling. Each negro looked inquiringly at Aaron, and to each he nodded, his right hand still lifted above his head.
Big Sal had waited till the last, and she was the only one that said a word.
"He look des like he did when he drapt asleep in deze arms," she cried, sobbing60 as though her heart would break, "an' I thank my God fer dat much! But oh, man, what a pity! What a pity!"
And she went out of the house into the yard, and through the yard into the lot, and through the lot to the negro cabins, crying, "Oh, what a pity! what a pity!"
Not for the Little Master, for he was smiling at the glorious vision of peace and rest that he saw when he said good-night. Not pity for the lad, but for those he had left behind him, for all who loved him; for all who had depended on his thoughtfulness; for all the weary and sorrowful ones. Oh, what a pity! Over and over again,[270] what a pity! And the wind flowing softly about the world took up the poor negro's wailing61 cry and sent it over the hill and beyond, and the outlying messengers of the Swamp took it up—What a pity! And the Willis-Whistlers piped low, and the mysteries, swaying and slipping through the canes62 and tall grass, heard the whispered echo and sighed, Oh, what a pity!
The End
The End
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
kin
|
|
| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
impaired
|
|
| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
affront
|
|
| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
runaway
|
|
| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
circuitous
|
|
| adj.迂回的路的，迂曲的，绕行的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
doggedly
|
|
| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
rekindled
|
|
| v.使再燃( rekindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
kindled
|
|
| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
mania
|
|
| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
inflamed
|
|
| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
plausible
|
|
| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
adviser
|
|
| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
judgments
|
|
| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
hustling
|
|
| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
plantation
|
|
| n.种植园，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
tenor
|
|
| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
culmination
|
|
| n.顶点；最高潮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
awesome
|
|
| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
devouring
|
|
| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
growling
|
|
| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
numbness
|
|
| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
watchfulness
|
|
| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
crutches
|
|
| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
prattled
|
|
| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ushered
|
|
| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
supple
|
|
| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
benediction
|
|
| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
canes
|
|
| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |