The little schoolhouse on the hill had itsmoments of triumph as well as its scenesof tribulation1, but it was fortunate thatRebecca had her books and her new acquaintancesto keep her interested and occupied, or life wouldhave gone heavily with her that first summer inRiverboro. She tried to like her aunt Miranda (theidea of loving her had been given up at the momentof meeting), but failed ignominiously2 in the attempt.
She was a very faulty and passionately3 human child,with no aspirations4 towards being an angel of thehouse, but she had a sense of duty and a desire tobe good,--respectably, decently good. Whenevershe fell below this self-imposed standard she wasmiserable. She did not like to be under her aunt'sroof, eating bread, wearing clothes, and studyingbooks provided by her, and dislike her so heartilyall the time. She felt instinctively5 that this waswrong and mean, and whenever the feeling of remorsewas strong within her she made a desperateeffort to please her grim and difficult relative. Buthow could she succeed when she was never herself inher aunt Miranda's presence? The searching lookof the eyes, the sharp voice, the hard knotty6 fingers,the thin straight lips, the long silences, the "front-piece" that didn't match her hair, the very obvious"parting" that seemed sewed in with linen7 thread onblack net,--there was not a single item that appealedto Rebecca. There are certain narrow, unimaginative,and autocratic old people who seem to call outthe most mischievous8, and sometimes the worsttraits in children. Miss Miranda, had she lived in apopulous neighborhood, would have had her doorbellpulled, her gate tied up, or "dirt traps" set in hergarden paths. The Simpson twins stood in suchawe of her that they could not be persuaded to cometo the side door even when Miss Jane held gingerbreadcookies in her outstretched hands.
It is needless to say that Rebecca irritated heraunt with every breath she drew. She continuallyforgot and started up the front stairs because it wasthe shortest route to her bedroom; she left thedipper on the kitchen shelf instead of hanging it upover the pail; she sat in the chair the cat liked best;she was willing to go on errands, but often forgotwhat she was sent for; she left the screen doorsajar, so that flies came in; her tongue was ever inmotion; she sang or whistled when she was pickingup chips; she was always messing with flowers,putting them in vases, pinning them on her dress,and sticking them in her hat; finally she was aneverlasting reminder9 of her foolish, worthless father,whose handsome face and engaging manner hadso deceived Aurelia, and perhaps, if the facts wereknown, others besides Aurelia. The Randalls werealiens. They had not been born in Riverboro noreven in York County. Miranda would have allowed,on compulsion, that in the nature of things a largenumber of persons must necessarily be born outsidethis sacred precinct; but she had her opinion ofthem, and it was not a flattering one. Now if Hannahhad come--Hannah took after the other side of thehouse; she was "all Sawyer." (Poor Hannah! thatwas true!) Hannah spoke10 only when spoken to,instead of first, last, and all the time; Hannah atfourteen was a member of the church; Hannah liked toknit; Hannah was, probably, or would have been, apattern of all the smaller virtues11; instead of whichhere was this black-haired gypsy, with eyes as bigas cartwheels, installed as a member of the household.
What sunshine in a shady place was aunt Janeto Rebecca! Aunt Jane with her quiet voice, herunderstanding eyes, her ready excuses, in these firstdifficult weeks, when the impulsive13 little strangerwas trying to settle down into the "brick houseways." She did learn them, in part, and by degrees,and the constant fitting of herself to these new anddifficult standards of conduct seemed to make herolder than ever for her years.
The child took her sewing and sat beside auntJane in the kitchen while aunt Miranda had the postof observation at the sitting-room14 window. Sometimesthey would work on the side porch where theclematis and woodbine shaded them from the hotsun. To Rebecca the lengths of brown ginghamwere interminable. She made hard work of sewing,broke the thread, dropped her thimble into thesyringa bushes, pricked15 her finger, wiped theperspiration from her forehead, could not match thechecks, puckered16 the seams. She polished her needlesto nothing, pushing them in and out of the emerystrawberry, but they always squeaked17. Still auntJane's patience held good, and some small measureof skill was creeping into Rebecca's fingers, fingersthat held pencil, paint brush, and pen so cleverly andwere so clumsy with the dainty little needle.
When the first brown gingham frock wascompleted, the child seized what she thought anopportune moment and asked her aunt Miranda if shemight have another color for the next one.
"I bought a whole piece of the brown," saidMiranda laconically18. "That'll give you two moredresses, with plenty for new sleeves, and to patchand let down with, an' be more economical.""I know. But Mr. Watson says he'll take backpart of it, and let us have pink and blue for thesame price.""Did you ask him?""Yes'm.""It was none o' your business.""I was helping19 Emma Jane choose aprons21, anddidn't think you'd mind which color I had. Pinkkeeps clean just as nice as brown, and Mr. Watsonsays it'll boil without fading.""Mr. Watson 's a splendid judge of washing, Iguess. I don't approve of children being riggedout in fancy colors, but I'll see what your auntJane thinks.""I think it would be all right to let Rebeccahave one pink and one blue gingham," said Jane.
"A child gets tired of sewing on one color. It'sonly natural she should long for a change; besidesshe'd look like a charity child always wearing thesame brown with a white apron20. And it's dreadfulunbecoming to her!""`Handsome is as handsome does,' say I.
Rebecca never'll come to grief along of her beauty,that's certain, and there's no use in humoring herto think about her looks. I believe she's vain as apeacock now, without anything to be vain of.""She's young and attracted to bright things--that's all. I remember well enough how I felt at herage.""You was considerable of a fool at her age,Jane.""Yes, I was, thank the Lord! I only wish I'dknown how to take a little of my foolishness alongwith me, as some folks do, to brighten my decliningyears."There finally was a pink gingham, and when it wasnicely finished, aunt Jane gave Rebecca a delightfulsurprise. She showed her how to make a prettytrimming of narrow white linen tape, by folding itin pointed22 shapes and sewing it down very flat withneat little stitches.
"It'll be good fancy work for you, Rebecca; foryour aunt Miranda won't like to see you alwaysreading in the long winter evenings. Now if youthink you can baste23 two rows of white tape roundthe bottom of your pink skirt and keep it straightby the checks, I'll stitch them on for you and trimthe waist and sleeves with pointed tape-trimming,so the dress'll be real pretty for second best."Rebecca's joy knew no bounds. "I'll bastelike a house afire!" she exclaimed. "It's a thousandyards round that skirt, as well I know, havinghemmed it; but I could sew pretty trimming on ifit was from here to Milltown. Oh! do you thinkaunt Mirandy'll ever let me go to Milltown withMr. Cobb? He's asked me again, you know; butone Saturday I had to pick strawberries, and anotherit rained, and I don't think she really approves ofmy going. It's TWENTY-NINE minutes past four, auntJane, and Alice Robinson has been sitting underthe currant bushes for a long time waiting for me.
Can I go and play?""Yes, you may go, and you'd better run as far asyou can out behind the barn, so 't your noise won'tdistract your aunt Mirandy. I see Susan Simpsonand the twins and Emma Jane Perkins hiding behindthe fence."Rebecca leaped off the porch, snatched AliceRobinson from under the currant bushes, and,what was much more difficult, succeeded, by meansof a complicated system of signals, in getting EmmaJane away from the Simpson party and giving themthe slip altogether. They were much too small forcertain pleasurable activities planned for thatafternoon; but they were not to be despised, for theyhad the most fascinating dooryard in the village. Init, in bewildering confusion, were old sleighs, pungs,horse rakes, hogsheads, settees without backs, bed-steads without heads, in all stages of disability, andnever the same on two consecutive24 days. Mrs.
Simpson was seldom at home, and even when shewas, had little concern as to what happened on thepremises. A favorite diversion was to make thehouse into a fort, gallantly25 held by a handful ofAmerican soldiers against a besieging26 force of theBritish army. Great care was used in apportioningthe parts, for there was no disposition27 to letanybody win but the Americans. Seesaw28 Simpsonwas usually made commander-in-chief of the Britisharmy, and a limp and uncertain one he was, capable,with his contradictory29 orders and his fondnessfor the extreme rear, of leading any regiment30 toan inglorious death. Sometimes the long-sufferinghouse was a log hut, and the brave settlers defeateda band of hostile Indians, or occasionally weremassacred by them; but in either case the Simpsonhouse looked, to quote a Riverboro expression, "asif the devil had been having an auction31 in it."Next to this uncommonly32 interesting playground,as a field of action, came, in the children's opinion,the "secret spot." There was a velvety33 stretchof ground in the Sawyer pasture which was full offascinating hollows and hillocks, as well as verdantlevels, on which to build houses. A group of treesconcealed it somewhat from view and flung a gratefulshade over the dwellings34 erected35 there. It hadbeen hard though sweet labor36 to take armfuls of"stickins" and "cutrounds" from the mill to thissecluded spot, and that it had been done mostlyafter supper in the dusk of the evenings gave ita still greater flavor. Here in soap boxes hiddenamong the trees were stored all their treasures:
wee baskets and plates and cups made of burdockballs, bits of broken china for parties, dolls, soonto be outgrown37, but serving well as characters inall sorts of romances enacted38 there,--deaths,funerals, weddings, christenings. A tall, square houseof stickins was to be built round Rebecca thisafternoon, and she was to be Charlotte Cordayleaning against the bars of her prison.
It was a wonderful experience standing12 inside thebuilding with Emma Jane's apron wound about herhair; wonderful to feel that when she leaned herhead against the bars they seemed to turn to coldiron; that her eyes were no longer Rebecca Randall'sbut mirrored something of Charlotte Corday'shapless woe39.
"Ain't it lovely?" sighed the humble40 twain, whohad done most of the labor, but who generouslyadmired the result.
"I hate to have to take it down," said Alice,"it's been such a sight of work.""If you think you could move up some stonesand just take off the top rows, I could step outover," suggested Charlotte Corday. "Then leavethe stones, and you two can step down into theprison to-morrow and be the two little princes inthe Tower, and I can murder you.""What princes? What tower?" asked Alice andEmma Jane in one breath. "Tell us about them.""Not now, it's my supper time." (Rebecca wasa somewhat firm disciplinarian.)"It would be elergant being murdered by you,"said Emma Jane loyally, "though you are awfulreal when you murder; or we could have Elijah andElisha for the princes.""They'd yell when they was murdered," objectedAlice; "you know how silly they are at plays, allexcept Clara Belle41. Besides if we once show themthis secret place, they'll play in it all the time, andperhaps they'd steal things, like their father.""They needn't steal just because their fatherdoes," argued Rebecca; "and don't you ever talkabout it before them if you want to be my secret,partic'lar friends. My mother tells me never to sayhard things about people's own folks to their face.
She says nobody can bear it, and it's wicked to shamethem for what isn't their fault. Remember MinnieSmellie!"Well, they had no difficulty in recalling thatdramatic episode, for it had occurred only a few daysbefore; and a version of it that would have meltedthe stoniest42 heart had been presented to every girlin the village by Minnie Smellie herself, who,though it was Rebecca and not she who came offvictorious in the bloody43 battle of words, nursed herresentment and intended to have revenge.
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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ignominiously
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| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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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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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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knotty
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| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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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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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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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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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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baste
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| v.殴打，公开责骂 | |
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consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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seesaw
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| n.跷跷板 | |
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contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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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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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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35
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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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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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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42
stoniest
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| 多石头的( stony的最高级 )； 冷酷的，无情的 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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