Well, whatever serene repose stands for, Shady Dale possessed8 it in an eminent9 degree, and the people there had their full share of the sorrows and troubles of this world, as Madame Awtry, or Miss Puella Gillum, or Neighbour Tomlin, or even that cheerful philosopher, Mr. Billy Sanders, could have told you; but of these Nan and Gabriel and Cephas knew nothing except in a vague, indefinite way. They heard hints of rumours11, and sometimes they saw their elders shaking their heads as they gossiped together, but the youngsters lived in a world of their own, a world apart, and the vague rumours were no more interesting to them than the reports of canals on Mars are to the average person to-day. He reads in his newspaper that the markings in Mars are supposed to be canals; whereat he smiles and reflects that these canals can do him no harm. Nan and Gabriel and Cephas were as far from contemporary troubles as we are from Mars. The most serious trouble they had was not greater than that which they discovered one day on the Bermuda hill. As they were sitting on the warm grass, wondering how long before peaches would be ripe, they saw a field mouse cutting up some queer capers13. Nan was not very friendly with mice, and she instinctively14 gathered up her skirts; but she did not run; her curiosity was ever greater than her fear. Presently we found that the troubles of Mother Mouse were very real. A tremendous black beetle15 had invaded her nest, and had seized one of her children, a little bit of a thing, naked and red and about the size of a half-ripe mulberry. We tried hard to rescue the mouse from the beetle, but soon found that it was quite dead. Cephas crushed the beetle, which was as venomous-looking a bug16 as they had ever seen. Was the beetle preparing to eat the mouse? Tasma Tid said yes, but Gabriel thought not. His idea was that the Mother Mouse had attacked the beetle, which was blindly crawling about, and had fallen in the nest accidentally. The beetle, striving to defend itself, had seized the mouse between its pinchers, and held it there until it was quite dead.
But the Bermuda fields were not the only resource of the children. There were seasons when Uncle Plato, who was Meriwether Clopton's carriage-driver, came to town with the big waggon18 to haul home the supplies necessary for the plantation19; loads of bagging and rope; cases of brogan shoes, and hats for the negroes; and bales on bales of osnaburgs and blankets. The appearance of the Clopton waggon on the public square was hailed by these youngsters with delight. They always made a rush for it, and, in riding back and forth20 with Uncle Plato, they spent some of the most delightful21 moments of their lives.
And then in the fall season, there was the big gin running at the Clopton place, with old Beck, the blind mule22, going round and round, turning the cogged and pivoted23 post that set the machinery24 in motion. But the youngsters rarely grew tired of riding back and forth with Uncle Plato. He was the one person in the world who catered25 most completely to their whims26, who was most responsive to their budding and eager fancies, and who entered most enthusiastically into the regions created and peopled by Nan's skittish27 and fantastic imagination.
These children had their critics, as may well be supposed, especially Nan, who did not always conform to the rules and theories which have been set up for the guidance of girls; but Uncle Plato, along with Gabriel and Cephas, accepted her as she was, with all her faults, and took as much delight in her tricksy and capricious behaviour, as if he were responsible for it all. She and her companions furnished Uncle Plato with what all story-tellers have most desired since hairy man began to shave himself with pumice-stone, and squat28 around a common hearth—a faithful and believing audience. Uncle ?sop10, it may be, cared less for his audience than for the opportunity of lugging29 in a dismal30 and perfunctory moral. Uncle Plato, like Uncle Remus, concealed31 his behind text and adventure, conveying it none the less completely on that account. Not one of his vagaries32 was too wild for the acceptance of his small audience, and the elusiveness33 of his methods was a perpetual delight to Nan, as hers was to Uncle Plato, though he sometimes shook his head, and pretended to sigh over her innocent evasions34.
Once when we were all riding back and forth from the Clopton Place to Shady Dale, Nan asked Uncle Plato if he could spell.
"Tooby sho I kin12, honey. What you reckon I been doin' all deze long-come-shorts ef I dunner how ter spell? How you speck35 I kin git 'long, haulin' an' maulin', ef I dunner how ter spell? Why, I could spell long 'fo' I know'd my own name."
"Long-come-shorts, what are they?" asked Nan.
"Rainy days an' windy nights," responded Uncle Plato, throwing his head back, and closing his eyes.
"Let's hear you spell, then," said Nan.
"Dee-o-egg, dog," was the prompt response. Nan looked at Uncle Plato to see if he was joking, but he was solemnity itself. "E-double-egg, egg!" he continued.
"Now spell John A. Murrell," said Nan. Murrell, the land pirate, was one of her favourite heroes at this time.
Uncle Plato pretended to be very much shocked. "Why, honey, dat man wuz rank pizen. En spozen he wa'nt, how you speck me ter spell sump'n er somebody which I ain't never laid eyes on? How I gwineter spell Johnny Murrell, an' him done dead dis many a long year ago?"
"Well, spell goose, then," said Nan, seeing a flock of geese marching stiffly in single file across a field near the road.
Uncle Plato looked at them carefully enough to take their measure, and then shook his head solemnly. "Deyer so many un um, honey, dey'd be monstus hard fer ter spell."
"Well, just spell one of them then," Nan suggested.
"Which un, honey?"
"Any one you choose."
Uncle Plato studied over the matter a moment, and again shook his head. "Uh-uh, honey; dat ain't nigh gwine ter do. Ef you speck me fer ter spell goose, you got ter pick out de one you want me ter spell."
"Well, spell the one behind all the rest."
Again Uncle Plato shook his head. "Dat ar goose got half-grown goslin's, an' I ain't never larnt how ter spell goose wid half-grown goslin's. You ax too much, honey."
"Then spell the one next to head." Nan was inexorable.
"Dat ar ain't no goose," replied Uncle Plato, with an air of triumph; "she's a gander."
"I don't believe you know how to spell goose," said Nan, with something like scorn.
"Don't you fool yo'se'f, honey," remarked Uncle Plato in a tone of confidence. "You git me a great big fat un, not too ol', an' not too young, an' fill 'er full er stuffin', an' bake 'er brown in de big oven, an' save all de drippin's, an' put 'er on de table not fur fum whar I mought be settin' at, an' gi' me a pone36 er corn bread, an' don't have no talkin' an' laughin' in de game—an' ef I don't spell dat goose, I'll come mighty37 nigh it, I sholy will. Ef I don't spell 'er, dey won't be nuff lef' fer de nex' man ter spell. You kin 'pen' on dat, honey."
Nan suddenly called Uncle Plato's attention to the carriage horses, which were hitched38 to the waggon. She said she knew their names well enough when they were pulling the carriage, but now—
"Haven't you changed the horses, Uncle Plato?" she asked.
"How I gwine change um, honey?"
"I mean, haven't you changed their places?"
"No, ma'am!" he answered with considerable emphasis. "No, ma'am; ef I wuz ter put dat off hoss in de lead, you'd see some mighty high kickin'; you sho would."
"Oh, let's try it!" cried Nan, with real eagerness.
"Dem may try it what choosen ter try it," responded Uncle Plato, dryly, "but I'll ax um fer ter kindly39 le' me git win' er what deyer gwine ter do, an' den17 I'll make my 'rangerments fer ter be somers out'n sight an' hearin'."
"Well, if you haven't made the horses swap40 places," remarked Nan, "I'll bet you a thrip that the right-hand horse is named Waffles, and the left-hand one Battercakes."
At once Uncle Plato became very dignified41. "Well-'um, I'm mighty glad fer ter hear you sesso, kaze ef dey's any one thing what I want mo' dan anudder, it's a thrip's wuff er mannyfac terbacker. Ez fer de off hoss, dat's his name—Waffles—you sho called it right. But when it comes ter de lead hoss, anybody on de plantation, er off'n it, I don't keer whar dey live at, ef dey yever so much ez hear er dat lead hoss, will be glad fer ter tell you dat he goes by de name er Muffins." He held out his hand for the thrip.
"Well, what is the difference?" said Nan, drawing back as if to prevent him from taking the thrip.
"De diffunce er what?" inquired Uncle Plato.
"And you expect me to give you money you haven't won," declared Nan. "What's the difference between Battercakes and Muffins? A muffin is a battercake if you pour three big spoonfuls in a pan and spread it out, and a battercake is a muffin if you pen it up in a tin-thing like a napkin ring. Anybody can tell you that, Uncle Plato—yes, anybody."
What reply the old negro would have made to this bit of home-made casuistry will never be known. That it would have been reasonable, if not entirely42 adequate, may well be supposed, but just as he had given his head a preliminary shake, the rattle43 of a kettle-drum was heard, and above the rattle a fife was shrilling44.
The shrilling fife, and the roll and rattle of the drums! These were sounds somewhat new to Shady Dale in 1860; but presently they were to be heard all over the land.
"I can see dem niggers right now!" exclaimed Uncle Plato, as we hustled45 out of his waggon. "Riley playin' de fife, Green beatin' on de kittledrum, an' Ike Varner bangin' on de big drum. Ef de white folks pay much 'tention ter dem niggers, dey won't be no livin' in de same county wid um. But dey better not come struttin' 'roun' me!"
The drums were beating the signal for calling together the men whose names had been signed to the roll of a company to be called the Shady Dale Scouts46, and the meeting was for the purpose of organizing and electing officers. All this was accomplished47 in due time; but meanwhile Nan and Gabriel and Cephas, as well as Tasma Tid and all the rest of the children in the town, went tagging after the fife and drums listening to Riley play the beautiful marching tunes48 that set Nan's blood to tingling49. Riley was a master hand with the fife, and we had never known it, had never even suspected it! Nan thought it was very mean in Riley not to tell somebody that he could play so beautifully.
Well, in a very short time, the company was rigged out in the finest uniforms the children had even seen. All the men, even the privates, had plumes50 in their hats and epaulettes of gold on their shoulders; and on their coats they wore stripes of glowing red, and shiny brass51 buttons without number. And at least twice a week they marched through the streets and out into the Bermuda fields, where they had their drilling grounds. These were glorious days for the youngsters. Nan was so enthusiastic that she organised a company of little negroes, and insisted on being the captain. Gabriel was the first lieutenant52, and Cephas was the second. When the company was ready to take the field, it was discovered that Nan would also have to be orderly sergeant53 and color-bearer. But she took on herself the duties and responsibilities of these positions without a murmur54. She wore a paper hat of the true Napoleonic cut, and carried in one hand her famous sword-gun, and the colors in the other. The oldest private in Nan's company was nine; the youngest was four, and had as much as he could do to keep up with the rest. The uniforms of these sun-seasoned troops was the regulation plantation fatigue55 dress—a shirt coming to the knees. Two or three of the smaller privates had evidently fallen victims to the pot-liquor and buttermilk habits, for their bellies56 stuck out black and glistening57 from rents in their shirts.
Their accoutrements prefigured in an absurd way the resources of the Confederacy at a later date. They were armed with broomsticks, and what-not. The file-leader had an old pair of tongs58, which he snapped viciously when Nan gave the word to fire. The famous sword-gun, with which Nan did such execution, had once seen service as an umbrella handle.
One afternoon, as Nan was drilling her troops, she chanced to glance down the road, and saw a waggon coming along. Deploying59 her company across the highway, she went forward in person to reconnoitre. She soon discovered that the waggon was driven by Uncle Plato. Running back to her veterans, she placed herself in front of them, and calmly awaited events. Slowly the fat horses dragged the waggon along, when suddenly Nan cried "Halt!" whereupon the drummer, obeying previous instructions, began to belabour his tin-pan, while Nan levelled her famous sword-gun at Uncle Plato. "Bang!" she exclaimed, and then, "Why didn't you fall off the waggon?" she cried, as Uncle Plato remained immovable. "Why, you don't know any more about real war than a baby," she said scornfully.
If the truth must be told, Uncle Plato had been dozing60, and when he awoke he viewed the scene before him with astonishment61. There was no need to cry "Halt!" or exclaim "Bang!" for as soon as the drummer began to beat his tin-pan, the horses stood still and craned their necks forward, with a warning snort, trying to see what this strange and unnatural62 proceeding63 meant. Uncle Plato had involuntarily tightened64 the reins65 when he was so rudely awakened66, and the horses took this for a hint that they must avoid the danger, and, as the shortest way is the best way, they began to back, and had the waggon nearly turned around before Uncle Plato could tell them a different tale.
"Ef I'd 'a' fell out'n de waggon, honey, who gwine ter pick me up?" he asked, laughing.
"Why, no one is picked up in war!"
"Is dis war, honey?"
"Of course it is," Nan declared.
"Does bofe sides hafter take part in de rucus?" asked Uncle Plato, making a terrible face at the little negroes.
"Why, of course," said Nan.
Seeing the scowl67, Nan's veteran troops began to edge slowly toward the nearest breach68 in the fence. Uncle Plato seized his whip and pretended to be clambering from the waggon. At this a panic ensued, and Nan's army dispersed69 in a jiffy. The seasoned troops dropped their arms and fled. The four-year-old became lost or entangled70 in a thick growth of jimson weed, seeing which, Uncle Plato cried out in terrible voice, "Ketch um dar! Fetch um here!"
Then and there ensued a wild scene of demoralisation and anarchy71; loud shrieks72 and screams filled the air; the dogs barked, the hens cackled, and the neighbours began to put their heads out of the windows. Mrs. Absalom, who had charge of the Dorrington household, and who had raised Nan from a baby, came to the door—the defeat of the troops occurred right at Nan's own home—crying, "My goodness gracious! has the yeth caved in?" Then, seeing the waggon crosswise the road, and mistaking Nan's shrieks of laughter for cries of pain, she bolted from the house with a white face.
Mrs. Absalom's reactions from her daily alarms about Nan usually resulted in bringing her into open and direct war with everybody in sight or hearing, except the child; but on this occasion, her fright had been so serious that when Nan, somewhat sobered, ran to her the good woman was shaking.
"Why, Nonny!" cried Nan, hugging her, "you are all trembling."
"No wonder," said Mrs. Absalom in a subdued73 voice; "I saw you under them waggon wheels as plain as I ever saw anything in my life. I'm gittin' old, I reckon."
And yet there were some people who wondered how Nan could endure such a foster-mother as Mrs. Absalom.
But the complete rout74 of Nan's army made no change in the general complexion75 of affairs. The Shady Dale Scouts continued to perfect themselves in the tactics of war, and after awhile, when the great controversy76 began to warm up—the children paid no attention to the passage of time—the company went into camp. This was a great hour for the youngsters. Here at last was something real and tangible77. The marching and the countermarching through the streets and in the old field were very well in their way, but Nan and Gabriel and the rest had grown used to these man[oe]uvres, and they longed for something new. This was furnished by the camp, with its white tents, and the grim sentinels pacing up and down with fixed78 bayonets. No one, not even an officer, could pass the sentinels without giving the password, or calling for the officer of the guard.
All this, from the children's point of view, was genuine war; but to the members of the company it was a veritable picnic. The citizens of the town, especially the ladies, sent out waggon loads of food every day—boiled ham, barbecued shote, chicken pies, and cake; yes, and pickles79. Nan declared she didn't know there were as many pickles in the world, as she saw unloaded at the camp.
Mr. Goodlett, who was Mrs. Absalom's husband, went out to the camp, looked it over with the eye of an expert, and turned away with a groan80. This citizen had served both in the Mexican and the Florida wars, and he knew that these gallant81 young men would have a rude awakening82, when it came to the real tug83 of war.
"Doesn't it look like war, Mr. Ab?" Nan asked, running after the veteran.
Mr. Goodlett looked at the bright face lifted up to his, and frowned, though a smile of pity showed itself around his grizzled mouth. He was a very deliberate man, and he hesitated before he spoke84. "You think that looks like war?" he asked.
"Why, of course. Isn't that the way they do when there's a war?"
"What! gormandise, an' set in the shade? Why, it ain't no more like war than sparrergrass is like jimson weed—not one ioter." With that, he sighed and went on his way.
But when did the precepts85 of age and experience ever succeed in chilling the enthusiasm of youth? With the children, it was "O to be a soldier boy!" and Nan and her companions continued to linger around the edges of the spectacle, taking it all in, and enjoying every moment. And the Scouts themselves continued to live like lords, eating and drilling, and dozing during the day, and at night dancing to the sweet music of Flavian Dion's violin. Nan and Gabriel thought it was fine, and, as well as can be remembered, Cephas was of the same opinion. As for Tasma Tid, she thought that the fife and drums, and the general glare and glitter of the affair were simply grand, very much nicer than war in her country, where the Arab slave-traders crept up in the night and seized all who failed to escape in the forest, killing86 right and left for the mere87 love of killing. Compared with the jungle war, this pageant88 was something to be admired.
And many of the older citizens held views not very different from those of the children, for enthusiasm ran high. The Shady Dale Scouts went away arrayed in their holiday uniforms. Many of them never returned to their homes again, but those that did were arrayed in rags and tatters. Their gallantry was such that the Shady Dale Scouts, disguised as Company B, were always at the head of their regiment89 when trouble was on hand. But all this is to anticipate.
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1
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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multiplication
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| n.增加，增多，倍增；增殖，繁殖；乘法 | |
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barter
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| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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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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capers
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| n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 )；刺山柑v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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beetle
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| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
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bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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pivoted
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| adj.转动的，回转的，装在枢轴上的v.（似）在枢轴上转动( pivot的过去式和过去分词 )；把…放在枢轴上；以…为核心，围绕（主旨）展开 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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catered
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| 提供饮食及服务( cater的过去式和过去分词 )； 满足需要，适合 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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skittish
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| adj.易激动的，轻佻的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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lugging
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| 超载运转能力 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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elusiveness
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| 狡诈 | |
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evasions
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| 逃避( evasion的名词复数 )； 回避； 遁辞； 借口 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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pone
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| n.玉米饼 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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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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swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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shrilling
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的现在分词 )； 凄厉 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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49
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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51
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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52
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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deploying
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的现在分词 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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60
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
anarchy
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| n.无政府状态；社会秩序混乱，无秩序 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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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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precepts
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| n.规诫，戒律，箴言( precept的名词复数 ) | |
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86
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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