Never thus could voyage on
Day and night and night and day,
Drifting on his weary way.
—Shelley
Meantime in these frosty autumn days life was crowded with events in the lonely Simpson house at Acreville.
The tumble-down dwelling5 stood on the edge of Pliney's Pond; so called because old Colonel Richardson left his lands to be divided in five equal parts, each share to be chosen in turn by one of his five sons, Pliny, the eldest6, having priority of choice.
Pliny Richardson, having little taste for farming, and being ardently7 fond of fishing, rowing, and swimming, acted up to his reputation of being “a little mite8 odd,” and took his whole twenty acres in water—hence Pliny's Pond.
The eldest Simpson boy had been working on a farm in Cumberland County for two years. Samuel, generally dubbed9 “see-saw,” had lately found a humble10 place in a shingle11 mill and was partially12 self-supporting. Clara Belle13 had been adopted by the Foggs; thus there were only three mouths to fill, the capacious ones of Elijah and Elisha, the twin boys, and of lisping, nine-year-old Susan, the capable houseworker and mother's assistant, for the baby had died during the summer; died of discouragement at having been born into a family unprovided with food or money or love or care, or even with desire for, or appreciation14 of, babies.
There was no doubt that the erratic15 father of the house had turned over a new leaf. Exactly when he began, or how, or why, or how long he would continue the praiseworthy process,—in a word whether there would be more leaves turned as the months went on,—Mrs. Simpson did not know, and it is doubtful if any authority lower than that of Mr. Simpson's Maker16 could have decided17 the matter. He had stolen articles for swapping18 purposes for a long time, but had often avoided detection, and always escaped punishment until the last few years. Three fines imposed for small offenses19 were followed by several arrests and two imprisonments for brief periods, and he found himself wholly out of sympathy with the wages of sin. Sin itself he did not especially mind, but the wages thereof were decidedly unpleasant and irksome to him. He also minded very much the isolated20 position in the community which had lately become his; for he was a social being and would ALMOST rather not steal from a neighbor than have him find it out and cease intercourse21! This feeling was working in him and rendering22 him unaccountably irritable23 and depressed24 when he took his daughter over to Riverboro at the time of the great flag-raising.
There are seasons of refreshment25, as well as seasons of drought, in the spiritual, as in the natural world, and in some way or other dews and rains of grace fell upon Abner Simpson's heart during that brief journey. Perhaps the giving away of a child that he could not support had made the soil of his heart a little softer and readier for planting than usual; but when he stole the new flag off Mrs. Peter Meserve's doorsteps, under the impression that the cotton-covered bundle contained freshly washed clothes, he unconsciously set certain forces in operation.
It will be remembered that Rebecca saw an inch of red bunting peeping from the back of his wagon26, and asked the pleasure of a drive with him. She was no daughter of the regiment27, but she proposed to follow the flag. When she diplomatically requested the return of the sacred object which was to be the glory of the “raising” next day, and he thus discovered his mistake, he was furious with himself for having slipped into a disagreeable predicament; and later, when he unexpectedly faced a detachment of Riverboro society at the cross-roads, and met not only their wrath28 and scorn, but the reproachful, disappointed glance of Rebecca's eyes, he felt degraded as never before.
The night at the Centre tavern29 did not help matters, nor the jolly patriotic30 meeting of the three villages at the flag-raising next morning. He would have enjoyed being at the head and front of the festive31 preparations, but as he had cut himself off from all such friendly gatherings32, he intended at any rate to sit in his wagon on the very outskirts33 of the assembled crowd and see some of the gayety; for, heaven knows, he had little enough, he who loved talk, and song, and story, and laughter, and excitement.
The flag was raised, the crowd cheered, the little girl to whom he had lied, the girl who was impersonating the State of Maine, was on the platform “speaking her piece,” and he could just distinguish some of the words she was saying:
“For it's your star, my star, all the stars together, That makes our country's flag so proud To float in the bright fall weather.”
Then suddenly there was a clarion34 voice cleaving35 the air, and he saw a tall man standing36 in the centre of the stage and heard him crying: “THREE CHEERS FOR THE GIRL THAT SAVED THE FLAG FROM THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY!”
He was sore and bitter enough already; lonely, isolated enough; with no lot nor share in the honest community life; no hand to shake, no neighbor's meal to share; and this unexpected public arraignment37 smote38 him between the eyes. With resentment39 newly kindled40, pride wounded, vanity bleeding, he flung a curse at the joyous41 throng42 and drove toward home, the home where he would find his ragged43 children and meet the timid eyes of a woman who had been the loyal partner of his poverty and disgraces.
It is probable that even then his (extremely light) hand was already on the “new leaf.” The angels, doubtless, were not especially proud of the matter and manner of his reformation, but I dare say they were glad to count him theirs on any terms, so difficult is the reformation of this blind and foolish world! They must have been; for they immediately flung into his very lap a profitable, and what is more to the point, an interesting and agreeable situation where money could be earned by doing the very things his nature craved44. There were feats45 of daring to be performed in sight of admiring and applauding stable boys; the horses he loved were his companions; he was OBLIGED to “swap,” for Daly, his employer, counted on him to get rid of all undesirable46 stock; power and responsibility of a sort were given him freely, for Daly was no Puritan, and felt himself amply capable of managing any number of Simpsons; so here were numberless advantages within the man's grasp, and wages besides!
Abner positively47 felt no temptation to steal; his soul expanded with pride, and the admiration48 and astonishment49 with which he regarded his virtuous50 present was only equaled by the disgust with which he contemplated51 his past; not so much a vicious past, in his own generous estimation of it, as a “thunderin' foolish” one.
Mrs. Simpson took the same view of Abner's new leaf as the angels. She was thankful for even a brief season of honesty coupled with the Saturday night remittance52; and if she still washed and cried and cried and washed, as Clara Belle had always seen her, it was either because of some hidden sorrow, or because her poor strength seemed all at once to have deserted53 her.
Just when employment and good fortune had come to the step-children, and her own were better fed and clothed than ever before, the pain that had always lurked54, constant but dull, near her tired heart, grew fierce and triumphantly55 strong; clutching her in its talons56, biting, gnawing57, worrying, leaving her each week with slighter powers of resistance. Still hope was in the air and a greater content than had ever been hers was in her eyes; a content that came near to happiness when the doctor ordered her to keep her bed and sent for Clara Belle. She could not wash any longer, but there was the ever new miracle of the Saturday night remittance for household expenses.
“Is your pain bad today, mother,” asked Clara Belle, who, only lately given away, was merely borrowed from Mrs. Fogg for what was thought to be a brief emergency.
“Well, there, I can't hardly tell, Clara Belle,” Mrs. Simpson replied, with a faint smile. “I can't seem to remember the pain these days without it's extra bad. The neighbors are so kind; Mrs. Little has sent me canned mustard greens, and Mrs. Benson chocolate ice cream and mince58 pie; there's the doctor's drops to make me sleep, and these blankets and that great box of eatables from Mr. Ladd; and you here to keep me comp'ny! I declare I'm kind o' dazed with comforts. I never expected to see sherry wine in this house. I ain't never drawed the cork60; it does me good enough jest to look at Mr. Ladd's bottle settin' on the mantel-piece with the fire shinin' on the brown glass.”
Mr. Simpson had come to see his wife and had met the doctor just as he was leaving the house.
“She looks awful bad to me. Is she goin' to pull through all right, same as the last time?” he asked the doctor nervously61.
“She's going to pull right through into the other world,” the doctor answered bluntly; “and as there don't seem to be anybody else to take the bull by the horns, I'd advise you, having made the woman's life about as hard and miserable62 as you could, to try and help her to die easy!”
Abner, surprised and crushed by the weight of this verbal chastisement63, sat down on the doorstep, his head in his hands, and thought a while solemnly. Thought was not an operation he was wont64 to indulge in, and when he opened the gate a few minutes later and walked slowly toward the barn for his horse, he looked pale and unnerved. It is uncommonly65 startling, first to see yourself in another man's scornful eyes, and then, clearly, in your own.
Two days later he came again, and this time it was decreed that he should find Parson Carll tying his piebald mare66 at the post.
Clara Belle's quick eye had observed the minister as he alighted from his buggy, and, warning her mother, she hastily smoothed the bedclothes, arranged the medicine bottles, and swept the hearth67.
“Oh! Don't let him in!” wailed68 Mrs. Simpson, all of a flutter at the prospect69 of such a visitor. “Oh, dear! They must think over to the village that I'm dreadful sick, or the minister wouldn't never think of callin'! Don't let him in, Clara Belle! I'm afraid he will say hard words to me, or pray to me; and I ain't never been prayed to since I was a child! Is his wife with him?”
“That's worse than all!” and Mrs. Simpson raised herself feebly on her pillows and clasped her hands in despair. “You mustn't let them two meet, Clara Belle, and you must send Mr. Carll away; your father wouldn't have a minister in the house, nor speak to one, for a thousand dollars!”
“Be quiet, mother! Lie down! It'll be all right! You'll only fret72 yourself into a spell! The minister's just a good man; he won't say anything to frighten you. Father's talking with him real pleasant, and pointing the way to the front door.”
The parson knocked and was admitted by the excited Clara Belle, who ushered73 him tremblingly into the sickroom, and then betook herself to the kitchen with the children, as he gently requested her.
Abner Simpson, left alone in the shed, fumbled74 in his vest pocket and took out an envelope which held a sheet of paper and a tiny packet wrapped in tissue paper. The letter had been read once before and ran as follows:
Dear Mr. Simpson:
This is a secret letter. I heard that the Acreville people weren't nice to Mrs. Simpson because she didn't have any wedding ring like all the others.
I know you've always been poor, dear Mr. Simpson, and troubled with a large family like ours at the farm; but you really ought to have given Mrs. Simpson a ring when you were married to her, right at the very first; for then it would have been over and done with, as they are solid gold and last forever. And probably she wouldn't feel like asking you for one, because ladies are just like girls, only grown up, and I know I'd be ashamed to beg for jewelry75 when just board and clothes cost so much. So I send you a nice, new wedding ring to save your buying, thinking you might get Mrs. Simpson a bracelet76 or eardrops for Christmas. It did not cost me anything, as it was a secret present from a friend.
I hear Mrs. Simpson is sick, and it would be a great comfort to her while she is in bed and has so much time to look at it. When I had the measles77 Emma Jane Perkins lent me her mother's garnet ring, and it helped me very much to put my wasted hand outside the bedclothes and see the ring sparkling.
Please don't be angry with me, dear Mr. Simpson, because I like you so much and am so glad you are happy with the horses and colts; and I believe now perhaps you DID think the flag was a bundle of washing when you took it that day; so no more from your Trusted friend, Rebecca Rowena Randall.
Simpson tore the letter slowly and quietly into fragments and scattered78 the bits on the woodpile, took off his hat, and smoothed his hair; pulled his mustaches thoughtfully, straightened his shoulders, and then, holding the tiny packet in the palm of his hand, he went round to the front door, and having entered the house stood outside the sickroom for an instant, turned the knob and walked softly in.
Then at last the angels might have enjoyed a moment of unmixed joy, for in that brief walk from shed to house Abner Simpson's conscience waked to life and attained79 sufficient strength to prick80 and sting, to provoke remorse81, to incite82 penitence83, to do all sorts of divine and beautiful things it was meant for, but had never been allowed to do.
Clara Belle went about the kitchen quietly, making preparations for the children's supper. She had left Riverboro in haste, as the change for the worse in Mrs. Simpson had been very sudden, but since she had come she had thought more than once of the wedding ring. She had wondered whether Mr. Ladd had bought it for Rebecca, and whether Rebecca would find means to send it to Acreville; but her cares had been so many and varied84 that the subject had now finally retired85 to the background of her mind.
The hands of the clock crept on and she kept hushing the strident tones of Elijah and Elisha, opening and shutting the oven door to look at the corn bread, advising Susan as to her dishes, and marveling that the minister stayed so long.
At last she heard a door open and close and saw the old parson come out, wiping his spectacles, and step into the buggy for his drive to the village.
Then there was another period of suspense86, during which the house was as silent as the grave, and presently her father came into the kitchen, greeted the twins and Susan, and said to Clara Belle: “Don't go in there yet!” jerking his thumb towards Mrs. Simpson's room; “she's all beat out and she's just droppin' off to sleep. I'll send some groceries up from the store as I go along. Is the doctor makin' a second call tonight?”
“Yes; he'll be here pretty soon, now,” Clara Belle answered, looking at the clock.
“All right. I'll be here again tomorrow, soon as it's light, and if she ain't picked up any I'll send word back to Daly, and stop here with you for a spell till she's better.”
It was true; Mrs. Simpson was “all beat out.” It had been a time of excitement and stress, and the poor, fluttered creature was dropping off into the strangest sleep—a sleep made up of waking dreams. The pain, that had encompassed87 her heart like a band of steel, lessened88 its cruel pressure, and finally left her so completely that she seemed to see it floating above her head; only that it looked no longer like a band of steel, but a golden circle.
The frail89 bark in which she had sailed her life voyage had been rocking on a rough and tossing ocean, and now it floated, floated slowly into smoother waters.
As long as she could remember, her boat had been flung about in storm and tempest, lashed90 by angry winds, borne against rocks, beaten, torn, buffeted91. Now the waves had subsided92; the sky was clear; the sea was warm and tranquil93; the sunshine dried the tattered94 sails; the air was soft and balmy.
And now, for sleep plays strange tricks, the bark disappeared from the dream, and it was she, herself, who was floating, floating farther and farther away; whither she neither knew nor cared; it was enough to be at rest, lulled95 by the lapping of the cool waves.
Then there appeared a green isle rising from the sea; an isle so radiant and fairy-like that her famished96 eyes could hardly believe its reality; but it was real, for she sailed nearer and nearer to its shores, and at last her feet skimmed the shining sands and she floated through the air as disembodied spirits float, till she sank softly at the foot of a spreading tree.
Then she saw the green isle was a flowering isle. Every shrub97 and bush was blooming; the trees were hung with rosy98 garlands, and even the earth was carpeted with tiny flowers. The rare fragrances99, the bird songs, soft and musical, the ravishment of color, all bore down upon her swimming senses at once, taking them captive so completely that she remembered no past, was conscious of no present, looked forward to no future. She seemed to leave the body and the sad, heavy things of the body. The humming in her ears ceased, the light faded, the birds songs grew fainter and more distant, the golden circle of pain receded100 farther and farther until it was lost to view; even the flowering island gently drifted away, and all was peace and silence.
It was time for the doctor now, and Clara Belle, too anxious to wait longer, softly turned the knob of her mother's door and entered the room. The glow of the open fire illumined the darkest side of the poor chamber101. There were no trees near the house, and a full November moon streamed in at the unblinded, uncurtained windows, lighting102 up the bare interior—the unpainted floor, the gray plastered walls, and the white counterpane.
Her mother lay quite still, her head turned and drooping103 a little on the pillow. Her left hand was folded softly up against her breast, the fingers of the right partly covering it, as if protecting something precious.
Was it the moonlight that made the patient brow so white, and where were the lines of anxiety and pain? The face of the mother who had washed and cried and cried and washed was as radiant as if the closed eye were beholding104 heavenly visions.
“Something must have cured her!” thought Clara Belle, awed59 and almost frightened by the whiteness and the silence.
She tiptoed across the floor to look more closely at the still, smiling shape, and bending over it saw, under the shadow of the caressing105 right hand, a narrow gold band gleaming on the work-stained finger.
“Oh, the ring came, after all!” she said in a glad whisper, “and perhaps it was that that made her better!”
She put her hand on her mother's gently. A terrified shiver, a warning shudder106, shook the girl from head to foot at the chilling touch. A dread70 presence she had never met before suddenly took shape. It filled the room; stifled107 the cry on her lips; froze her steps to the floor, stopped the beating of her heart.
Just then the door opened.
“Oh, doctor! Come quick!” she sobbed108, stretching out her hand for help, and then covering her eyes. “Come close! Look at mother! Is she better—or is she dead?”
The doctor put one hand on the shoulder of the shrinking child, and touched the woman with the other.
“She is better!” he said gently, “and she is dead.”
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1
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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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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mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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4
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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5
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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6
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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8
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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9
dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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10
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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11
shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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12
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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13
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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14
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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swapping
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| 交换，交换技术 | |
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offenses
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| n.进攻( offense的名词复数 )；（球队的）前锋；进攻方法；攻势 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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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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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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29
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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clarion
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| n.尖音小号声；尖音小号 | |
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cleaving
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| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的现在分词 ) | |
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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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arraignment
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| n.提问，传讯，责难 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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kindled
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| （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 | |
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41
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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47
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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48
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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49
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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50
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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51
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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52
remittance
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| n.汇款，寄款，汇兑 | |
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53
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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54
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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55
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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56
talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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57
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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hitching
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| 搭乘； （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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incite
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| v.引起，激动，煽动 | |
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penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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fragrances
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| n.芳香，香味( fragrance的名词复数 )；香水 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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