In an instant every door frame was filled with a living picture. Women of all shapes, and in all manners of habille and dishabille, leaned over the cross-doors and gazed curiously4 at the coming show. The men, too phlegmatic5 even in their curiosity, simply shifted the pipe from one side of the mouth to the other; and, as the object of all this curiosity lumbered6 into the street, three loafers, who supported a blank wall opposite my door, steered8 round as slowly as a vessel9 swings with the tide, and leaned the right shoulder, instead of the left, against the gable. It was a tremendous expenditure10 of energy; and I am quite sure it demanded a drink. And I, feeling from these indications that something unusual was at hand, drew back my window curtains, and stared decorously at the passing wonder. It was a long van, drawn11 by two horses, which sweated and panted under the whip of their driver. It was painted a dark green; and in gold letters that glittered on the green, I read the magic legend:—
PANTECHNICON.
"Pan" is Greek for "all," thought I; and "technicon" is appertaining to art. It means an exhibition of all the arts; that is, a Gypsy wagon12 with bric-à-brac, or one of these peep-shows, which exhibits to admiring youngsters Napoleon crossing the Alps, or Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage. I let the curtain fall, and went back to my books; but in a moment I heard the caravan13 stopping just a few doors below, and I heard my bedroom window raised; and I knew that Hannah was half way between heaven and earth. I have not a particle of curiosity in my composition, but I drew back the curtain again, and looked down the street. The van had stopped at Father Letheby's new house, and a vast crowd surged around it. The girls kept at a respectful distance, whilst the men unyoked their horses; but the boys stood near, in the attitude of runners at a tournament, ready to make off the moment the first ominous14 growl15 was heard. The adults were less excited, though quite as curious, and I could hear the questionings over the silence of expectation that had fallen on the village.
"Yerra, what is it?"
"How do I know? It's the place where the circus people live."
"O—yeh! what a quare place to live in? And where do they sleep?"
"In the wagon."
"An' ate?"
"In the wagon."
"Yerra, they're not Christians16 at all, at all."
Then the men slowly opened the door of the wagon, and took out, from a mass of canvas and straw, a dainty satin-covered chair. A tidy, well dressed servant, with a lace cap perched on the top of her head, and what the village folk called "sthramers" flying behind, came out of Father Letheby's cottage, and helped to take the furniture within. As each pretty article appeared, there was a chorus of "oh-h-hs" from the children. But the climax17 of delight was reached when a gilt18 mirror appeared. Then for the first time sundry19 boys and girls saw their own dear smutty faces; and huge was their delight. But I am wrong. The climax came when the heaviest article appeared. Great was the curiosity.
"What is it? what is it?" "A bed?" "No." "A dresser?" "No." "A thing for books?" "No."
But one enlightened individual, who had been up to the great house at a spring cleaning, astonished the natives by declaring that it was a piano.
"A pianney? Yeh, for what? A priest with a pianney! Yerra, his niece is going to live wid him. Yerra, no! He'll play it himself."
Which last interpretation20 was received with shouts of incredulous laughter. What a versatile21 people we are! And how adoration22 and laughter, and reverence23 and sarcasm24, move side by side in our character, apparently25 on good terms with each other. Will the time come when the laughter and the wit, grown rampant26, will rudely jostle aside all the reverential elements in our nature, and mount upwards27 to those fatal heights which other nations have scaled like Satan,—and thence have been flung into the abyss?
I was curious to know what Hannah thought of it all. Hannah too is versatile; and leaps from adoration to envy with wonderful facility.
"Father Letheby's furniture, I suppose?" I said, when she brought in the dinner.
"I thought they looked nice from here," I said.
"Don't sit on his chairs, unless you have your will made," she said.
"Did I see a looking-glass?" I asked.
"Oh yes! to curl his hair, I suppose. And a pianney to play polkas."
"No," she said, in that accent of sarcasm in which an Irish peasant is past master, "nor purtier. Look at that sophy now. Isn't it fit for any lady in the land? And these chairs? Only for the smith, they'd be gone to pieces long ago. And that lovely carpet? 'T would do for a flag for the 'lague.' You haven't one cup and saucer that isn't cracked, nor a plate that isn't burnt, nor a napkin, nor a tablecloth30, nor a saltcellar, nor—nor a—nor a—"
"I'll tell you what, Hannah," I said. "Father Letheby is going to show us what's what. I'll furnish the whole house from top to bottom. Was that his housekeeper31?"
"I suppose so," she said contemptuously. "Some poor girl from an orphanage32. If she wasn't, she wouldn't wear them curifixes."
I admit that Hannah's scorn for my scanty33 belongings34 was well bestowed35. The sofa, which appeared to affect her æsthetic sense most keenly, was certainly a dilapidated article. Having but three legs, it leaned in a loafing way against the wall, and its rags of horsehair and protruding36 springs gave it a most trampish and disreputable appearance. The chairs were solid, for the smith had bound them in iron clamps. And the carpet?—Well, I pitied it. It was threadbare and transparent37. Yet, when I looked around, I felt no feminine scorn. They all appealed to me and said:—
"We have been forty years in your service. We have seen good things and evil things. Our faces are familiar to you. We have spent ourselves in your service."
And I vowed39 that, even under the coming exigencies40, when I should have to put on an appearance of grace and dignity,—exigencies which I clearly foresaw the moment my curate made his appearance, these old veterans should never be set aside or cast as lumber7, when their aristocratic friends would make their appearance. And my books looked at me as much as to say:—
"You're not ashamed of us?"
No, dear silent friends, I should be the meanest, most ungrateful of mortals if I could be ashamed of you. For forty years you have been my companions in solitude41; to you I owe whatever inspirations I have ever felt; from you have descended42 in copious43 streams the ideas that raised my poor life above the commonplace, and the sentiments that have animated44 every good thing and every holy purpose that I have accomplished45. Friends that never obtruded46 on my loneliness by idle chatter47 and gossip, but always spoke48 wise, inspiriting things when most I needed them; friends that never replied in irritation49 to my own disturbed imaginings, but always uttered your calm wisdom like voices from eternity50, to soothe51, to control, or to elevate; friends that never tired and never complained; that went back to your recesses52 without a murmur53; and never resented by stubborn silence my neglect,—treasures of thought and fountains of inspiration, you are the last things on earth on which my eyes shall rest in love, and like the orphans54 of my flock your future shall be my care. True, like your authors, you look sometimes disreputable enough. Your clothes, more to my shame, hang loose and tattered55 around you, and some of your faces are ink-stained or thumb-worn from contact with the years and my own carelessness. I would dress you in purple and fine linen56 if I may, yet you would reproach me and think I was weary of your homely57 faces. Like the beggar-maid you would entreat58 to be allowed to go back from queenly glory and pomp to the tatters and contentment of your years. So shall it be! but between you and me there must be no divorce, so long as time shall last for me. Other friends will come and go, but nothing shall dissolve our union based upon gratitude59 and such love as man's heart may have for the ideal and insensible.
When there had been time for perfecting all his arrangements, I strolled down to pay a formal visit to Father Letheby. The atmosphere of absolute primness60 and neatness struck my senses when I entered. Waxed floors, dainty rugs, shining brasses61, coquettish little mirrors here and there, a choice selection of daintily bound volumes, and on a writing desk a large pile of virgin62 manuscript, spoke the scholar and the gentleman. My heart sank, as I thought how sick of all this he will be in a few weeks, when the days draw in, and the skies scowl63, and the windows are washed, and the house rocked under the fierce sou'westers that sweep up the floor of the Atlantic, and throw all its dripping deluges64 on the little hamlet of Kilronan. But I said:—
"You have made a cosey little nest for yourself, Father Letheby; may you long enjoy it."
"Yes," he said, as if answering my horrible scepticism, "God has been very good to send me here."
"There is just one drawback," I said, with a faint attempt at humor, "to all this æstheticism." I pointed66 to a window against which four very dirty noses were flattened67, and four pairs of delighted eyes were wandering over this fairy-land, and a dirty finger occasionally pointed out some particularly attractive object.
"Poor little things," he said, "it gives them pleasure, and does me no harm."
"Then, why not bring them in?" I said.
"Oh, no," he replied, with a little laugh, "I draw the line there." He pointed to the shining waxed floors. "Besides, it would destroy their heaven. To touch and handle the ideal, brings it toppling down about our ears."
We spoke long and earnestly about a lot of things. Then, looking a little nervously68 at me, he made a great leap of thought.
"Would you mind my saying a serious word to you, sir?" said he.
"Certainly not," I replied, "go ahead."
"It seems to me, then," he said, deliberately69, "that we are not making all that we might out of the magnificent possibilities that lie at our disposal. There is no doubt things are pretty backward in Ireland. Yet, we have an intelligent people, splendid natural advantages,—an infernally bad government, it is true,—but can we not share the blame with the government in allowing things to remain as they are? Now, I am not an advocate for great political designs: I go in for decentralization, by which I mean that each of us should do his very best exactly in that place where Providence70 has placed him. To be precise, what is there to prevent us from improving the material condition of these poor people? There is a pier71 to be built. I am told shoals of fish whiten the sea in the summer, and there are no appliances to help our fishermen to catch them and sell them at a vast profit. There is an old mill lying idle down near the creek72. Why not furnish it up, and get work for our young girls there? We have but a poor water supply; and, I am told, there is a periodical recurrence73 of fever. Pardon me, sir," he continued, "if I seem to be finding fault with the ministry74 of the priests here, but I am sure you do not misunderstand me?"
"Certainly not," said I, "go on."
And he went on with his airy optimism, drawing wonderful castles with the light pencils of his young fancy, and I seemed to hear my own voice echoing back from thirty years long passed by, when the very same words were on my lips and the same ideas throbbed75 through my brain. But would it be kind to leave him undeceived? I decided76 not.
"Your first step," I said, "is to see the landlord, who owns the sloping fields and the foreshore."
"Certainly," he said, "that's quite easy. What's his address?" He took up his note-book.
"I am not quite sure," I replied. "He is probably this moment staking half his property on the red at Monte Carlo, or trying to peep into a harem at Stamboul, or dining off bison steak in some cañon in the Sierras."
He looked shocked.
"But his agent,—his representative?"
"Oh! he's quite available. He will be very polite, and tell you in well chosen words that he can do—nothing."
"But the Governmental Office,—the Board of Works?"
"Quite so. You'll write a polite letter. It will be answered in four weeks to the day: 'We beg to acknowledge receipt of your communication, which shall have our earliest attention.' You'll write again. Reply in four weeks: 'We beg to acknowledge receipt of your communication, which we have placed before the Board.' You'll hear no more on the matter. But don't let me depress you!"
"Oh, to be sure! A question will be asked in the House of Commons. The Chief Secretary will reply: 'The matter is under the deliberation of the Board of Works, with whose counsels we do not wish to interfere78.'"
He was silent.
"About the factory," I continued. "You know there is a large shirt factory in Loughboro, six miles away. If you apply to have a branch factory established here, the manager will come down, look at the store, turn up his nose, ask you where are you to find funds to put the building in proper order, and do you propose to make the store also a fish-curing establishment; and then he will probably write what a high-born lady said of the first Napoleon: 'Il salissait tout79 ce qu'il touchait.'"
"It's a damned lie," said Father Letheby, springing up, and, I regret to say, demolishing80 sundry little Japanese gimcracks, "our people are the cleanest, purest, sweetest people in the world in their own personal habits, whatever be said of their wretched cabins. But you are not serious, sir?"
He bent81 his glowing eyes upon me. I liked his anger. And I liked very much that explosive expletive. How often, during my ministry, did I yearn82 to be able to utter that emphatic83 word! Mind, it is not a cuss-word. It is only an innocent adjective—condemned. But what eloquence84 and emphasis there is in it! How often I could have flung it at the head of a confirmed toper, as he knelt at my feet to take the pledge. How often I could have shot it at the virago85, who was disturbing the peace of the village; and on whom my vituperation, which fell like a shot without powder, made no impression! It sounded honest. I like a good fit of anger, honest anger, and such a gleam of lightning through it.
"I am," I said, "quite serious. You want to create a Utopia. You forget your Greek."
He smiled.
"I am reserving the worst," I said.
"What is it?" he cried. "Let me know the worst."
"Well," I said slowly, "the people won't thank you even in the impossible hypothesis that you succeed."
He looked incredulous.
"What! that they won't be glad to lift themselves from all this squalor and misery86, and be raised into a newer and sweeter life?"
"Precisely87. They are happy. Leave them so. They have not the higher pleasures. Neither have they the higher perils88. 'They sow not, neither do they spin.' But neither do they envy Solomon in all his glory. Jack89 Haslem and Dave Olden sleep all day in their coracles. They put down their lobster90 pots at night. Next day, they have caught enough of these ugly brutes91 to pay for a glorious drunk. Then sleep again. How can you add to such happiness? By building a schooner92, and sending them out on the high seas, exposed to all the dangers of the deep; and they have to face hunger and cold and death, for what? A little more money, and a little more drink; and your sentence: Why didn't he leave us alone? Weren't we just as well off as we were? which is the everlasting93 song of your respected predecessor94, only he put it in Latin: Cui bono?"
He pondered deeply for a long time. Then he said: "It sounds sensible; but there is some vile95 fallacy at the bottom of it. Anyhow, I'll try. Father, give me your blessing96!"
"There again," I said, "see how innocent you are. You don't know the vernacular97."
He looked surprised.
"When you know us better," I answered, in reply to his looks, "you will understand that by that formula you ask for a drink. And as I don't happen to be under my own roof just now—"
"No matter," he said. "I may go on?"
"Certainly," I replied. "You'll have a few gray hairs in your raven98 locks in twelve months time,—that's all."
"What a hare," I thought as I went home, "is madness, the youth, to leap over the meshes99 of good counsel, the cripple." Which is not mine, but that philosopher, Will Shakespeare; or is it Francis Bacon?
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1
squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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baste
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| v.殴打，公开责骂 | |
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4
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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lumbered
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| 砍伐（lumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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7
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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8
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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9
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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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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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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rampant
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| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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orphanage
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| n.孤儿院 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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exigencies
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| n.急切需要 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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42
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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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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obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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48
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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49
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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51
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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52
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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53
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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54
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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55
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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56
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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57
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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58
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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59
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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60
primness
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| n.循规蹈矩，整洁 | |
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61
brasses
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| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
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62
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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63
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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64
deluges
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| v.使淹没( deluge的第三人称单数 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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65
optimist
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| n.乐观的人，乐观主义者 | |
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66
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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67
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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68
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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69
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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70
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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71
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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72
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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73
recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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74
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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75
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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76
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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77
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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80
demolishing
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| v.摧毁( demolish的现在分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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81
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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82
yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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83
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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84
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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85
virago
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| n.悍妇 | |
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86
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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88
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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89
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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90
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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91
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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92
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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93
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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94
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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95
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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96
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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97
vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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98
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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99
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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