We are so built, the most of us, that we consider we are wasting time unless our hands are moving. If a woman sits with her hands in her lap thinking great thoughts she is manifestly idle. But if she sits embroidering1 tasteless doilies and thinking of nothing, she has found something for her hands to do and Satan is foiled again. How often he is foiled these days.
As I say, I do dislike to be read to, so while Ethel sits and crochets2 or knits or does fancy sewing, I sit by her side and read, and it is a very pleasant way of passing the time. Her embroidery3 is worth while, and I think there is to be found no such practice in language as reading aloud.
I recommend it to all lispers and persons with uncertain pronunciations.
While we were reading who should drive up but the Guernseas, the people who had heard our open air concert.
I saw they were about to stop, so I laid down my book and went out to greet them.
“Won’t you come into the house?” said I, and Ethel rising, seconded the invitation.
“Thank you, no it is such a lovely day we’ll sit here. John, you may come back in twenty minutes.”
John was their very elegant driver, and after hitching4 the horses to the stone post, he touched his hat and walked away.
Ethel and I stood by the carriage and passed the commonplaces of the day for a minute or two and then the absurdity5 of the situation dawned on me. Here were our two distinguished6 friends doing us the honour of calling on us, and they were sitting in the most comfortable seats in a very ornate carriage, while my good wife and I stood at their feet as it were and received their call. I prefer sitting at people’s feet, after the manner of the Jews of old, so I went into the house and brought out two dingy7 hair-cloth chairs, much to Ethel’s mortification8, and we sat down on them.
So sitting we were not more than abreast9 of the floor of the carriage, and we addressed all our remarks to those above who evidently had no sense of humour, for they never smiled at the situation once.
“We want to know,” said Mrs. Guernsea, languidly, “whether you are living this simple life that Charles Wagner preaches.”
“I haven’t read his book, but our life is simple. I think we are both very simple.”
I looked at Ethel and she and I looked up to the perches10 above us, and I know that she was thinking that we were very simple to allow a thing of this kind to happen, instead of insisting that our grand visitors come at least to the verandah and meet us upon an equal footing.
“Caroline, they are leading the simple life. Fancy! Was that why you went driving with those colored people yesterday?”
Ethel started to tell the facts in the case, but I rudely interrupted and said,
“Mrs. Guernsea, in the simple life all men are equal, but in real life there are many inequalities. The woman you saw on the back seat was Minerva, our estimable cook, while the man was James, our man-of-all-play.”
I pronounced his title quickly and she did not notice the variation.
“This is the land of the free and theoretically all men are free and equal. As a matter of fact, all men are not so, but up here while we lead the simple life we try to make those with whom we come in contact believe that they are so. You met us yesterday, and yesterday I was driving Minerva and James out. Had you met us to-day, James would have been driving Mrs. Vernon and me out.”
Both Mrs. Guernsea and her lackadaisical11 daughter accepted what I had to say in the spirit in which I wished them to accept it; as a truth of the simple life, and it was so different from their own lives that for the nonce it interested them to hear about it. Therefore, despite Ethel’s reproving brow-liftings, I went on.
“In our life here in this cottage Minerva does all the cooking, because she is the best cook of the four, just as I do all the reading aloud, because I am the best reader; and Mrs. Vernon does all the embroidery, because she is the best embroiderer12; and James—well, we have not yet found what James can do best, but there is one thing—his spirits are never depressed13 and he heartens us all.”
“How curious. And do you believe that such a state of things would be possible in a more complex life, in New York, for instance?”
“Mrs. Guernsea, have you ever tried having Mr. Guernsea take your men and your maids out driving in the Park?”
“Why, no!”
“Try it, when you go back,” said I. “They will be pleased beyond any doubt.”
“But your servants were singing. Did not that annoy you?”
“My dear Mrs. Guernsea, it is one of the first principles of the simple life not to be annoyed. Didn’t you think their voices sweet?”
“Yes, but it seemed so—so unconventional.”
“The simple lifers,” said I, “abhor conventions that already exist. They aim to create new conventions and live up to them. We felt the need of song. Neither Mrs. Vernon nor myself can sing very acceptably. Both Minerva and James are blessed with delightful14 voices, so they sang for us without a word of demurring15.”
“Would they sing now, do you suppose? It was really very lovely.”
“I have no doubt. I’ll go and ask them. But—”
I hesitated. The precious old humbug16, so devoid17 of humour, was condescending18 toward the simple life during a single ennuied afternoon. I wondered if I could make her become a disciple19 of it for a few short moments; hence my hesitation20. I resolved to risk it, and with an elevation21 of my eyebrows22 directed at Ethel which meant “Keep out,” I said:
“In the simple life anything like condescension23 jars. If Minerva and James consent to sing I must ask that they be allowed to sit in the carriage and that you make one of us on the ground. I will get chairs.”
“Oh, no, we will stand.”
And the daughter said languidly, “We sometimes drive over to the country fairs, and it is awfully24 jolly to stand alongside the carriage and watch the races. We have done it on the other side, too.”
“Oh, I know they always do it there,” said I, with enthusiasm. “Many’s the picture I’ve seen of it.”
I went in and found Minerva ironing, while James was blacking the stove.
“Will you please tidy yourselves up a bit and come out and sing for two of our friends?” said I. “They are influential25 city people, and they may not be able to attend the concert. You’re to sit in their carriage and sing.”
They were, of course, delighted, being two children, and I left them tidying up, and hurried back.
Ethel had gone into the house for something, but she soon came out with a bowl of blue berries and two napkins.
“Will you help yourselves?” said she.
Mrs. Guernsea looked at her daughter, and her daughter looked at Mrs. Guernsea. They were too well bred to suggest that anything was missing, but they were evidently thinking of saucers and spoons. I came to the rescue, knowing that Ethel had entered into my madness.
“More simple life, but you don’t have to do it. Still, berries never taste so luscious26 as when eaten from the hand.”
I held the bowl solemnly before them, they removed their gloves, ate dainty mouthfuls of berries, and their delight in the flavour was very real.
“Oh, I wish that it were possible to do this at home.”
I bowed. “It needs only for Mrs. Guernsea to do it to make it possible everywhere.”
While they were eating Minerva and James came out, and if Minerva was not the best looking woman there, James was the best looking man—by all odds27. I was proud of their appearance.
I was a little afraid that the Guernseas would show a certain amount of hauteur28, but they were evidently trying to enter into the simple life, and would obey all its rules for the nonce. It was a break in their sadly monotonous29 lives.
“Minerva and James, these are Mrs. Guernsea and her daughter, Miss Guernsea, and they wish you to sing some of your songs.”
Both Mrs. Guernsea and the daughter smiled very seriously, and I helped them to alight from the carriage.
They took their stand on the green sward, and as I would not have felt comfortable to remain seated with them standing30, I left my seat, and so Ethel was the only one who had a seat at the concert.
After a little self conscious giggling31 on Minerva’s part, a giggling that James reprimanded with native dignity, the pair began “Steal Away.”
“Steal away.”
The richly caparisoned horses, to employ a term that has been faithful to writers these many years, the beautiful Victoria, handsomely japanned, the earnest songsters leaning back on the cushions and singing the plaintive32 song, while the fashionable Guernseas stood and drank it all in, formed a picture as unusual as it was pleasing—to me.
Midway in the second verse, even as the Guernseas had surprised us the day before, so to-day the pastor33 of the Second Congregational Church surprised us to-day by driving past in his buggy, accompanied by his wife.
I think he had meant to stop, but when he saw what was going on, he simply opened his mouth; his good wife opened her mouth, and I think the horse opened its mouth, and they drove by.
They had seen the simple life being lived by six persons.
James and Minerva were ready for an encore, but it did not occur to either Mrs. Guernsea or her daughter to applaud. They contented34 themselves by saying it was very charming.
But I felt that the labourers were worthy35 of their hire, and still thinking of the simple life and equality, I said to Mrs. Guernsea, in the most matter of course way:
“I wonder if you wouldn’t let James take Minerva out for a short drive in return for their singing? James is an expert driver.”
Mrs. Guernsea was not at all hard, and besides, I believe that she was in a way hypnotised; so with scarce a moment’s hesitation she said:
“Why, certainly. You won’t be gone long, I suppose?”
“Oh, no ma’am. We’ll just drive around the square.”
The “square” was a stretch of country road some two miles in length.
James unhitched the horses and mounted the driver’s seat, but Minerva sprawled36 luxuriously37 in the seat in which she had sung. James tightened38 the reins39 and the horses started off at what is called a spanking40 pace by those who know.
What happened thereafter was told me in part by James, and I will give the substance of it.
It seems that he had not gone very far when he met John, the driver.
Naturally enough, when John saw his mistress’s horses coming toward him at a pace considerably41 above that indulged in by himself (when he was driving for her), he was at first dumbfounded and then angered. To him what had occurred was as plain as the nose on his face. Mrs. Guernsea had been asked into the house by us, and this impudent42 scamp had seized the opportunity to take his girl out for a ride.
“Here, stop. Get out of that!” he yelled.
James replied by some piece of impertinence that served to increase the coachman’s anger, and picking up a stone he let drive at James, but hit the flank of the nigh horse instead. He, feeling the unwonted sting, plunged43 forward, communicated his fear to his mate, and the two horses began to run away.
We at the house heard Minerva’s familiar screams, but I set it down to a new animal that had come to her ken44, as I knew that James was a capable driver.
As for Mrs. Guernsea, she was telling us something about the evening that the English primate45 took dinner at her house on Madison Avenue, and she did not notice Minerva’s cries.
James had been familiar with horses from his boyhood, and he would have brought the pair under his control before long, but John was a man of action, and when he saw the horses start on a mad run, and also saw a boy (Bert, in fact,) riding horseback, he yelled to him: “Lend me that horse, boy. My team is being stolen.”
Bert, having just passed the run-a-way, jumped quickly from his mount and John took his place and turning the horse, dashed after James.
The run-a-ways, hearing the clatter46 of hoofs47 behind them, ran the harder and Minerva’s screams steadily48 increased in pitch and volume.
At the first turn James guided the horses to the left and calculated that before the two miles were made they would be winded, for their gait was tremendous.
As John made the turn, crying “Stop thief” at the top of his lungs, he passed the minister who had just passed us and who was going back to our house—for as it turned out, he wished to see me.
He heard the hue49 and cry, and bidding his wife get out of the carriage and wait for him, he whipped up and started in pursuit.
And Bert, deprived of his horse, but unwilling50 to be deprived of so much excitement cut across lots, that he might see the race on its last quarter. This much I afterward51 learned from him.
Through it all James never lost command of the horses, nor Minerva of her voice. Her view halloo echoed over woodland and vale, and came to me from different points of the compass, and I began to feel that something serious was the matter, and now and again I had visions of bills for the repair of a carriage.
When they reached the last quarter I could distinctly hear the “Stop thiefs!” of two voices, and so did Ethel, but both Mrs. Guernsea and her daughter were of those people who can attend to but one thing at a time, and they were busily engaged in talking, the mother to me and the daughter to Ethel.
The way in front of our house is level and commands a view of the country for a considerable distance, and when James started on his last quarter, and had attained52 a steep hill, from where I sat (for I had insisted on bringing out chairs for us all) I could see Mrs. Guernsea’s delicately made carriage swinging from side to side of the road, James sitting erect53, his wrists tight against his chest and Minerva letting out warwhoops on the back seat.
Nearer and nearer they came, and at last Mrs. Guernsea heard the commotion54 and, putting up her lorgnon gazed in the direction from which the sound came.
“Why he is going too fast!” said she. “He will lather55 the horses.”
I felt quite sure that the lathering56 had already been well done, but I did not say so.
“I’m afraid they are running away,” said I.
“No,” said Miss Guernsea, rising to her feet and using her own eyes, “He is running away with them. He is being chased. Hear that? ‘Stop thief!’”
Across the swampy57 land in front of our house I saw the running figure of a boy. He climbed the stone wall that edges the road, and panting violently rushed up to us.
It was Bert. “Try to head him off,” said he. “He’s trying to steal that turn-out.”
I did not believe it, even then. When I put my confidence in a man I don’t like to have it disturbed, and I won’t disturb it myself as long as there is a shadow of a chance to preserve it. The horses were running away, but it was not James’ fault. I was sure of that.
A minute later the form of a man on horseback was seen cresting58 the hill, and after a longer interval60 the minister’s buggy topped the same crest59.
The last turn in the road is a few rods north of our house, and James guided the horses skilfully61 round that turn and stopped them in front of our house. This was partly because Minerva, having fainted, was no longer screaming, and partly because John’s horse had stumbled and thrown him. And the minister came in second, his horse panting.
“James,” said I indignantly, “what do you mean by driving those horses at such a gait?”
James, when the horses had stopped, had sprung from the seat and was now at their heads talking in a low voice to them and patting them in order to calm them.
Minerva came to herself, said “Oh Lawdy! Are we back again, already?” and climbed ungracefully out of the carriage.
The horses were white with lather, their tongues lolling out of their mouths; and the wagon62 was sadly scratched. It was a mortifying63 moment for a liver of the simple life.
“James, what happened?” said I, sternly.
And then John came limping up, with a flesh wound on his forehead and shaking his fist at James, and with his cockaded hat in his hand said to Mrs. Guernsea, “I met him trying to run away with the horses ma’am, and I tried to stop him. The cheek of him, ma’am!”
James gave a contemptuous grunt64, and leaving the horses, who had calmed down wonderfully under his ministrations, he pointed65 to a cut on the flank of the nigh horse.
“That’s what started the trouble, madam,” said he, “and it was your driver that threw the stone.”
I will say for Mrs. Guernsea, that she behaved like a thoroughbred. She was evidently a woman who reasoned things out, and she knew something of the principles of the simple life, for she said:
“Everybody meant well, I’ve no doubt, and the thing is all over now.”
John was blanketing the sweating horses.
“Don’t let it worry you an instant, Mr. Vernon,” said she. “It was all an accident.”
I tried to get them to come indoors and take some refreshment66, for the last few moments had been more strenuous67 than simple, but they decided68 that it was better for the horses to exercise them a little more and so they drove slowly home, and Bert went after his horse which had not hurt itself, and the minister went on to pick up his wife whom he had left at the first turn.
“And it was really all your fault,” said Ethel, smilingly, after James and Minerva had departed to the kitchen.
“Well, it gave Minerva something to think about and made life worth living for the Guernseas.”
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1
embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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crochets
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| v.用钩针编织( crochet的第三人称单数 )；趾钩 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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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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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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perches
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| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
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lackadaisical
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| adj.无精打采的，无兴趣的；adv.无精打采地，不决断地 | |
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embroiderer
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| 刺绣工 | |
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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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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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demurring
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的现在分词 ) | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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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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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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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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spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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45
primate
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| n.灵长类（目）动物，首席主教；adj.首要的 | |
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46
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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49
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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50
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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51
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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52
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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53
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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54
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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55
lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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56
lathering
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| n.痛打，怒骂v.（指肥皂）形成泡沫( lather的现在分词 )；用皂沫覆盖；狠狠地打 | |
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57
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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cresting
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| n.顶饰v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的现在分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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59
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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60
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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61
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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62
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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63
mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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65
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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66
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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67
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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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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