"Wal, Huldy," said the farmer, leaning against Bright's massive side, "you look pooty slick in that gown, I must say. I reckon thar ain't no sech gown as that on Fifth Avenoo, hey?"
"Indeed, I don't believe there is, Farmer Hartley," replied Hilda, laughing merrily; "at least I never saw one like it. It is pretty, I think, and so comfortable! And where are you going this morning with the mammoths?"
"Down to the ten-acre lot," replied the farmer. "The men are makin' hay thar to-day. Jump into the riggin' and come along," he added. "Ye kin3 hev a little ride, an' see the hay-makin'. Pooty sight 'tis, to my thinkin'."
"May I?" cried Hilda, eagerly. "I am sure these fowls have had enough. Go away now, you greedy creatures! There, you shall have all there is!" and she emptied the bowl over the astonished dignitaries of the barn-yard, laid it down on the settle in the porch, and jumped gayly into the "rigging," as the great hay-cart was called.
"Haw, Bright! hoish, Star!" said the farmer, touching5 one and then the other of the great black oxen lightly with his goad6. The huge beasts swayed from side to side, and finally succeeded in getting themselves and the cart in motion, while the farmer walked leisurely7 beside them, tapping and poking8 them occasionally, and talking to them in that mystic language which only oxen and their drivers understand. Down the sweet country lane they went, with the willows9 hanging over them, and the daisies and buttercups and meadow-sweet running riot all over the banks. Hilda stood up in the cart and pulled off twigs10 from the willows as she passed under them, and made garlands, which the farmer obediently put over the oxen's necks. She hummed little snatches of song, and chatted gayly with her kind old host; for the world was very fair, and her heart was full of summer and sunshine.
"And have you always lived here, Farmer Hartley?" she asked. "All your life, I mean?"
"No, not all my life," replied the farmer, "though pooty nigh it. I was ten year old when my uncle died, and father left sea-farin', and kem home to the farm to live. Before that we'd lived in different places, movin' round, like. We was at sea a good deal, sailin' with father when he went on pleasant voyages, to the West Indies, or sich. But sence then I ain't ben away much. I don't seem to find no pleasanter place than the old farm, somehow."
"I don't believe there is any pleasanter place in the world!" said Hilda, warmly. "I am sure I have never been so happy anywhere as I have here."
Farmer Hartley looked up with a twinkle in his eye. "Ye've changed yer views some, Huldy, hain't ye, sence the fust day ye kem heer? I didn't never think, then, as I'd be givin' you rides in the hay-riggin', sech a fine young lady as you was."
Hilda gave him an imploring11 glance, while the blood mounted to her temples. "Please, Farmer Hartley," she said in a low voice, "please try to forget that first day. It isn't my views that have changed," she added, "it is I myself. I don't—I really don't think I am the same girl who came here a month ago."
"No, my gal," said the farmer, heartily12, "I don't think ye are." He walked along in silence for a few minutes, and then said, "'Tis curus how folks kin sometimes change 'emselves, one way or the other. 'Tain't so with critturs; 't least so fur's I've obsarved. The way they're born, that way they'll stay. Now look at them oxen! When they was young steers13, hardly more'n calves14, I began to train them critturs. An' from the very fust go-off they tuk their cue an' stuck to it. Star, thar, would lay out, and shake his head, an' pull for all he was wuth, as if there was nothin' in the world to do but pull; and Bright, he'd wait till Star was drawin' good an' solid, an' then he'd as much as say, 'Oh! you kin pull all that, kin ye? Well, stick to it, my boy, an' I'll manage to trifle along with the rest o' the load.' Wo-hoish, Star! haw, Bright! git up, ye old humbug15! You're six year old now, an' you ain't changed a mite16 in four years, though I've drove you stiddy, and tried to spare the other every time."
The green lane broke off suddenly, and such a blaze of sunlight flashed upon them that Hilda involuntarily raised her hand to shield her eyes. The great meadow lay open before them, an undulating plain of gold. The haycocks looked dull and gray-green upon it; but where the men were tossing the hay with their long wooden rakes, it flashed pale-golden in the sunlight, and filled the air with flying gleams. Also the air was filled with the sweetness of the hay, and every breath was a delight. Hilda stood speechless with pleasure, and the old farmer watched her glowing face with kindly17 gratification.
"Pooty sightly, ain't it?" he said. And then, in a graver tone, and removing his battered18 straw hat, "I don't never seem to see the glory of the Lord no plainer than in a hay-field, a day like this. Yes, sir! if a man can't be a Christian19 on a farm in summer, he can't be it nowhere. Amen!" and Farmer Hartley put on his hat and proceeded straightway to business. "Now, Huldy," he said, "here ye be! I'm goin' to load up this riggin', an' ye kin stay round here a spell, if ye like, an' run home when ye like. Ye kin find the way, I reckon?"
"Oh, yes!" said Hilda; "yes, indeed! But I shall stay here for a while, and watch you. And mayn't I toss the hay too a little?"
But her courage failed when she found that to do this she must mingle20 with the crowd of strange haymakers; and besides, among them she saw the clumsy form and shock head of Caliban, as she had secretly named the clownish and surly nephew of her good host. This fellow was the one bitter drop in Hilda's cup. Everything else she had learned to like, in the month which had passed since she came to Hartley's Glen. The farmer and his wife she loved as they deserved to be loved. The little maidservant was her adoring slave, and secretly sewed her boot-buttons on, and mended her stockings, as some small return for the lessons in crochet21 and fancy knitting that she had received from the skilful22 white fingers which were a perpetual marvel23 to her. But Simon Hartley remained what she had at first thought him,—a sullen24, boorish25 churl26. He was a malevolent27 churl too, Hildegarde thought; indeed she was sure of it. She had several times seen his eyes fixed28 on his uncle with a look of positive hatred29; and though Farmer Hartley was persistently30 kind and patient with him, trying often to draw him into conversation, and make him join in the pleasant evening talks which they all enjoyed, his efforts were unsuccessful. The fellow came in, gobbled his food, and then went off, if his work was over, to hide himself in his own room. Hilda was quite sure that Nurse Lucy liked this oaf no better than she herself did, though the good woman never spoke31 impatiently or unkindly to him,—and indeed it would be difficult for any one to like him, she thought, except possibly his own mother.
Our Queen took presently her seat on a right royal throne of fragrant32 hay, and gave herself up to the full delight of the summer morning, and of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold," as she had instantly named the shining yellow plain, which more prosaic33 souls knew as "the ten-acre lot." The hay rustled34 pleasantly as she nestled down in it, and made a little penthouse over her head, to keep off the keen, hot sun-arrows. There was a great oak-tree too, which partly shaded this favored haycock, and on one of its branches a squirrel came running out, and then sat up and looked at Hildegarde with bright, inquisitive35 eyes. A maiden36, all brown and gold, on a golden haycock! What strange apparition37 was this? Had she come for acorns38? Did she know about the four young ones in the snug39 little house in the hollow just above the first branch! Perhaps—dreadful thought!—she had heard of the marvellous beauty of the four young ones, and had come to steal them. "Chip!" whisk! and Madam Squirrel was off up the branch like a streak40 of brown lightning, with its tail up.
Hilda laughed at the squirrel's alarm, and then turned her attention to a large green grasshopper41 who seemed to demand it. He had alighted on her knee, and now proceeded to exhibit his different points before her admiring gaze with singular gravity and deliberation. First he slowly opened his wings, to show the delicate silvery gauze of the under-wings; then as slowly closed them, demonstrating the perfect fit of his whole wing-costume and the harmony of its colors. He next extended one leg, calling her attention to its remarkable43 length and muscular proportions. Then, lest she should think he had but one, he extended the other; and then gave a vigorous hop42 with both of them, to show her that he did not really need wings, but could get on perfectly44 well without them. Finally he rubbed himself all over with his long antennæ, and then, pointing them full at her, and gazing at her with calm and dispassionate eyes, he said plainly enough: "And now, Monster, what have you to show me?"
Hildegarde was wondering how she could best dispel45 the scorn with which this majestic46 insect evidently regarded her, when suddenly something new appeared on her gown,—something black, many-legged, hairy, most hideous47; something which ran swiftly but stealthily, with a motion which sent a thrill of horror through her veins48. She started up with a little shriek49, shaking off the unlucky spider as if it had been the Black Death in concrete. Then she looked round with flaming cheeks, to see if her scream had been heard by the hay-makers. No, they were far away, and too busy to take heed50 of her. But the charm was broken. Queen Hildegarde had plenty of courage of a certain sort, but she could not face a spider. The golden throne had become a "siege perilous," and she abdicated51 in favor of the grasshopper and his black and horrent visitor.
What should she do now? The charm of the morning had made her idle and drowsy52, and she did not feel like going home to help Nurse Lucy in making the butter, though she often did so with right good-will. She looked dreamily around, her eyes wandering here and there over the great meadow and the neat stone walls which bounded it. Presently she spied the chimneys and part of the red roof of a little cottage which peeped from a thick clump54 of trees just beyond the wall. Who lived in that cottage, Hilda wondered. Why should she not go and see? She was very thirsty, and there she might get a glass of water. Oh! perhaps it was Bubble's cottage, where he and his mother and his sister Pink lived. Now she thought of it, Bubble had told her that he lived "over beyont the ten-acre lot;" of course this must be the place. Slowly she walked across the meadow and climbed the wall, wondering a good deal about the people whom she was going to see. She had often meant to ask Bubble more about his sister with the queer name; but the lesson-hour was so short, and there were always so many questions for Bubble to ask and for her to answer besides the regular lesson, that she always forgot it till too late. Pink Chirk! what could a girl be like with such a name as that? Hilda fancied her a stout55, buxom56 maiden, with very red cheeks and very black eyes—yes, certainly, the eyes must be black! Her hair—well, one could not be so sure about her hair; but there was no doubt about her wearing a pink dress and a blue checked apron57. And she must be smiling, bustling58, and energetic. Yes! Hilda had the picture of her complete in her mind. She wondered that this active, stirring girl never came up to the farm; but of course she must have a great deal of work to do at home.
By this time Hildegarde had reached the cottage; and after a moment's hesitation59 she knocked softly at the green-painted door. No one came to open the door, but presently she heard a clear, pleasant voice from within saying, "Open the door and come in, please!" Following this injunction, she entered the cottage and found herself directly in the sitting-room60, and face to face with its occupant. This was a girl of her own age, or perhaps a year older, who sat in a wheeled chair by the window. She was very fair, with almost flaxen hair, and frank, pleasant blue eyes. She was very pale, very thin; the hands that lay on her lap were almost transparent61; but—she wore a pink calico dress and a blue checked apron. Who could this be? and whoever it was, why did she sit still when a visitor and a stranger came in? The pale girl made no attempt to rise, but she met Hilda's look of surprise and inquiry62 with a smile which broke like sunshine over her face, making it for the moment positively63 beautiful. "How do you do?" she said, holding out her thin hand. "I am sure you must be Miss Hilda Graham, and I am Bubble's sister Pink.
"Please sit down," she added. "I am so very glad to see you. I have wanted again and again to thank you for all your kindness to my Bubble, but I didn't know when I should have a chance. Did Bubble show you the way?"
Hildegarde was so astonished, so troubled, so dismayed that she hardly knew what she was saying or doing. She took the slender fingers in her own for an instant, and then sat down, saying hastily: "Oh, no! I—I found my way alone. I was not sure of its being your cottage, though I thought it must be from what Bubble told me." She paused; and then, unable to keep back longer the words which sprang to her lips, she said: "I fear you have been ill, you are so pale. I hope it has not been serious. Bubble did not tell me—"
Pink Chirk looked up with her bright, sweet smile. "Oh, no! I have not been ill," she said. "I am always like this. I cannot walk, you know, but I am very well indeed."
The girl saw her look of horror, and a faint color stole into her wan53 cheek. "Did not Bubble tell you?" she asked, gently; and then, as Hilda shook her head, "It is such a matter of course to him," she said; "he never thinks about it, I suppose, dear little fellow. I was run over when I was three years old, and I have never been able to walk since."
Hildegarde could not speak. The thought of anything so dreadful, so overwhelming as this, coming so suddenly, too, upon her, seemed to take away her usually ready speech, and she was dumb, gazing at the cheerful face before her with wide eyes of pity and wonderment. But Pink Chirk did not like to be pitied, as a rule; and she almost laughed at her visitor's horror-stricken face.
"You mustn't look so!" she cried. "It's very kind of you to be sorry, but it isn't as if I were really ill, you know. I can almost stand on one foot,—that is, I can bear enough weight on it to get from my bed to my chair without help. That is a great thing! And then when I am once in my chair, why I can go almost anywhere. Farmer Hartley gave me this chair," she added, looking down at it, and patting the arm tenderly, as if it were a living friend; "isn't it a beauty?"
It was a pretty chair, made of cherry wood, with cushions of gay-flowered chintz; and Hilda, finding her voice again, praised it warmly. "This is its summer dress," said Pink, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Underneath65, the cushions are covered with soft crimson66 cloth, oh, so pretty, and so warm-looking! I am always glad when it's time to take the chintz covers off. And yet I am always glad to put them on again," she added, "for the chintz is pretty too, I think: and besides, I know then that summer is really come."
"You like summer best?" asked Hilda.
"Oh, yes!" she replied. "In winter, of course, I can't go out; and sometimes it seems a little long, when Bubble is away all day,—not very, you know, but just a little. But in summer, oh, then I am so happy! I can go all round the place by myself, and sit out in the garden, and feed the chickens, and take care of the flowers. And then on Sunday Bubble always gives me a good ride along the road. My chair moves very easily,—only see!" She gave a little push, and propelled herself half way across the little room.
At this moment the inner door opened, and Mrs. Chirk appeared,—a slender, anxious-looking woman, with hair prematurely67 gray. She greeted Hilda with nervous cordiality, and thanked her earnestly for her kindness to Zerubbabel. "He ain't the same boy, Miss Graham," she said, "sence you begun givin' him lessons. He used to fret68 and worrit 'cause there warn't no school, and he couldn't ha' gone to it if there was. Pinkrosia learned him what she could; but we hain't many books, you see. But now! why that boy comes into the house singin' and spoutin' poetry at the top of his lungs,—jest as happy as a kitten with a spool69. What was that he was shoutin' this mornin', Pinkrosia, when he scairt the old black hen nigh to death?"
"'Charge for the golden lilies! Upon them with the lance!'" murmured Pink, with a smile.
"Yes, that was it!" said Mrs. Chirk. "He was lookin' out of the window and pumpin' at the same time, an' spoutin' them verses too. And all of a sudden he cries out, 'Ther's the brood of dark My Hen, scratchin' up the sweet peas. Upon them with the lance!' And he lets go the pump-handle, and it flies up and hits the shelf and knocks off two plates and a cup, and Bubble, he's off with the mop-handle, chasin' the old black hen and makin' believe run her through, till she e'enamost died of fright. Well, there, it give me a turn; it reelly did!" She paused rather sadly, seeing that her hearers were both overcome with laughter.
"I—I am very sorry, Mrs. Chirk, that the plates were broken," said Hilda; "but it must have been extremely funny. Poor old hen! she must have been frightened, certainly. Do you know," she added, "I think Bubble is a remarkably70 bright boy. I am very sure that he will make a name for himself, if only he can have proper training."
"Presume likely!" said Mrs. Chirk, with melancholy71 satisfaction. "His father was a real smart man. There warn't no better hayin' hand in the county than Loammi Chirk. And I'm in hopes Zerubbabel will do as well, for he has a good friend in Farmer Hartley; no boy couldn't have a better."
Eminence72 in the profession of "haying" was not precisely73 what Hilda had meant; but she said nothing.
"And my poor girl here," Mrs. Chirk continued after a pause, "she sets in her cheer hay-times and other times. You've heard of her misfortune, Miss Graham?"
Pink interposed quickly with a little laugh, though her brows contracted slightly, as if with pain. "Oh, yes, Mother dear!" she said; "Miss Graham has heard all about me, and knows what a very important person I am. But where is the yarn74 that I was to wind for you? I thought you wanted to begin weaving this afternoon."
"Oh!" exclaimed Hildegarde. "Never mind the yarn just now, Pink! I want to give you a little ride before I go back to the farm. May she go, Mrs. Chirk? It is such a beautiful day, I am sure the air will do her good. Would you like it, Pink?"
Pink looked up with a flush of pleasure on her pale cheek. "Oh," she said, "would I like it! But it's too much for you to do, Miss Graham."
"An' with that beautiful dress on too!" cried Mrs. Chirk. "You'd get it dusty on the wheel, I'm afraid. I don't think—"
"Oh yes, you do!" cried Hilda, gayly, pushing the chair towards the door. "Bring her hat, please, Mrs. Chirk. I always have my own way!" she added, with a touch of the old imperiousness, "and I have quite set my heart on this."
Mrs. Chirk meekly75 brought a straw sun-bonnet, and Hilda tied its strings76 under Pink's chin, every fibre within her mutely protesting against its extreme ugliness. "She shall not wear that again," said she to herself, "if I can help it." But the sweet pale face looked out so joyously77 from the dingy78 yellow tunnel that the stern young autocrat79 relented. "After all, what does it matter?" she thought. "She would look like an angel, even with a real coal-scuttle80 on her head." And then she laughed at the thought of a black japanned scuttle crowning those fair locks; and Pink laughed because Hilda laughed; and so they both went laughing out into the sunshine.
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1
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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2
quacking
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| v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的现在分词 ) | |
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3
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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goad
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| n.刺棒，刺痛物；激励；vt.激励，刺激 | |
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7
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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8
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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9
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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13
steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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14
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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15
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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16
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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17
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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crochet
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| n.钩针织物；v.用钩针编制 | |
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22
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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23
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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boorish
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| adj.粗野的，乡巴佬的 | |
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churl
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| n.吝啬之人；粗鄙之人 | |
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malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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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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32
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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34
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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37
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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38
acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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39
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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40
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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41
grasshopper
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| n.蚱蜢，蝗虫，蚂蚱 | |
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42
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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43
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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44
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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abdicated
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| 放弃（职责、权力等）( abdicate的过去式和过去分词 )； 退位，逊位 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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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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spool
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| n.（缠录音带等的）卷盘（轴）；v.把…绕在卷轴上 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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