"I'm just Adam and I go many places," he answered with more of the intoxicating1 crooning laughter.
"Rufus says that red-headed Peckerwoods go to the devil on Fridays," I retorted to the raillery of the Pan laugh.
"It was Friday and she didn't sing Delilah to my notion. Did she to yours?" he asked, this time with a smile that was even more interesting than the laugh. "Come over and sit with me by the spring-house and let's discuss grand opera while I eat my supper and wait until I think it is safe to give the ewe some mash2.
"I will if you'll invite me to the supper; I can't face another swine and muffin meal," I answered as I followed him down a path that led west from the barn-door.
"I've got two apples and a double handful of black walnut3 kernels4. The drinks from the spring are on you," he answered as he led me down through a thicket5 of slim trees that were sending out a queer fragrance6 to a huge old stone spring-house from which gushed7 a stream of water. "Just these two spring days are bringing out the locust8 buds almost before time. Smell 'em!" he said as he looked up into the tops of the slim trees, which were showing a pink-green tinge9 of color in the red sunset rays.
"Oh," I said softly as I clasped my hands to my breast and breathed in deep, "I'm glad, glad I didn't have to let them sell it. I love it. I love it!"
"Sell it?" asked Adam as he brushed a rug of dry leaves from under the bushes upon one of the huge slabs10 of rock before the door of the spring-house for me to sit on, and took two apples from his pocket.
"Yes, and I'll work both my fingers and toes to the bone before I'll give it up," I answered as I crouched11 down beside him on the leaves and began to munch12 at the apple, which he had polished on the sleeve of his soft, gray, flannel13 shirt before he handed it to me.
While we dined on the two red apples, the tangy nuts, and a few hard crackers14 that, I think, were dog-biscuits, I told him all about it, up to my defiance15 and assumption of the management of Elmnest in the library after dinner.
"I can keep us from starving until I learn chickens, can't I?" I asked after the recital16, and I crouched a little closer to him on the rock, for black shadows were coming in between the trees and into my consciousness, and all the pink moonlight had faded as a rosy17 dream, leaving the world about us silver gray.
"I wonder just how much genuine land passion there is in the hearts of women?" said Adam, softly answering my question with another. "The duration of race life depends upon it really."
"I don't know what you are talking about, but I understand you," I answered him hotly. "Also I know that I love that old sheep more than you do, and I'm going to get in line with my egg-basket when the United States begins mustering18 in forces to fight, no matter what it is to be. I wish I could say it like I feel it to that Mr. Secretary Evan Baldwin, who forgets that women are the natural—the nutritive sex."
"I wish you could," said kind Adam, with one of Pan's railing laughs.
"Forgive me! I'm not really laughing—it's just a form—form of the Peckerwood's nature-worship," he answered as he took my hand in his warm one for a second. "Let's go finish up with old sheep mother," he added as he began to pad swiftly away up the path, drawing me after him.
"Yes, I am growing inside," I assured myself as I for the second night fell asleep on the soft bosom20 of my family tradition of four posts.
One of the most bromidic performances that human beings indulge in anywhere from their thirty-fifth to eightieth years is to sigh, look wise, and make this remark: "If I could only begin life over again, knowing what I do now!"
I'm never going to be impressed by that again, and I'm going to answer straight out from the shoulder, "Well, it would be a great strain to you if you found yourself doing it."
That was about what my entry into life at Elmnest, Riverfield, Harpeth, was, and in many places it rubbed and hurt my pride; in many places at many times it sapped my courage; in many ways it pruned21 and probed into my innermost being with a searching knife to see if I really did have any intelligence or soul, and at all times it left me with a feeling of just having been sprouted22 off the cosmic. I know what I mean, but it doesn't sound as if I did. This is the way most of it happened to me in my first six weeks of life in the rustic23.
How did I know that when you cleaned up a house that hadn't been cleaned up for about fifteen years you must wait for ten days after you came to that realization24 for a sunshiny day, and carry all the beds out in the yard before you began, and that no matter how much awful dust and cobwebs you swept and mopped out or how much old furniture you polished until it reflected your face, it was all perfectly25 futile26 unless the bed-sunning ceremony had been first observed? Just how were the ability to speak French in the most exclusive circles of Parisian society and a cultivated knowledge of every picture-gallery in the world going to keep me from making a blunder that would put me down in Mrs. Pennie Addcock's mind as a barbarian27?
"Why, Mrs. Tillett and me have been getting ready all along to come and help you beat and sun the beds the first sunshiny day and then turn to with our buckets and mops and brooms. Now you've gone and done the wrong thing by all this polishing before a single bed had been beat and aired." As she spoke28 Mrs. Addcock surveyed my house, upon which I had spent every waking moment of my muscular strength, assisted by Polly Corn-tassel and sometimes Bud of the blue eyes, but not at all by Rufus, who resented the cleansing29 process to such an extent that he wrapped up his jaw30 in a piece of old flannel and retired31 to the hay-loft when Bud and Polly and I insisted on invading the horrors of his kitchen.
"Oh, my dear Mrs. Addcock, won't you and Mrs. Tillett please forgive me for being so ignorant and help me do it to-day?" I pleaded as I picked up a small Tillett, who was peeping soft wooing at me from where he balanced himself on uncertain and chubby32 legs against his mother's skirts.
"Well, in this case there is just nothing else to do, but turn to on the beds now, wrong end first, but next year you'll know," she answered me with indulgent compromise in her voice. "And I guess we'll find some broom and mop work yet to be done. Come on, Mrs. Tillett. I guess Nancy can mind the baby all right while we work."
"Oh, he ain't no trouble now except he wants to find out all about the world by tasting of it. Don't let him eat a worm or sech, and he'll be all right," answered the beaming young mother of the toddler. "And, Miss Nancy, I was jest going to tell you that I have got a nice pattern of a plain kind of work dress if you would like to use it," she added as she pointedly33 did not look at my peasant's smock that hung in such lovely long lines that I found myself pausing much too often before one of the mirrors in the big living-room to admire them. Mrs. Tillett's utility costume was of blue checked gingham and had no lines at all except top and bottom, with a belt in between. Both ladies wore huge gingham aprons34, and I must say that they looked like the utility branch of the feminine species while I may have resembled the ornamental35. But they were dear neighbors, and the Tillett baby and I had a very busy and happy day with the Golden Bird and his busy family while the two missionaries36 did over every bed in Elmnest, even invading the living-room and shaking out the cushions of the old couch in the very face of one of the charges of Xerxes' army. I put his babykins in a big feed-basket in a nest of hay, and the two lamb twins came and licked him every now and then by way of welcome into my barn nursery. The fine young sheep mother was now in blooming health, and the valuable progeny37 were growing by the hours, most of which they spent at the maternal38 fount, opposite each other and both small tails going like a new variety of speedometer.
"I see mother ewe knows enough to hang around the lady of the barn and feed-bins. Those lambkins are two pounds heavier than any born within a week of them at Plunkett's," Pan had said not a week past, and both sheep mother and I had beamed with gratified pride at his commendation.
Then while the renovation39 of the four-posters went on with a happy buzz, I busied myself in and out and about with the numberless details of care of the Bird family. My knowledge of music earned by many long hours in the practice of harmonics and a delighted and diligent40 attendance at the opera seasons of New York, Berlin, and Paris, to say nothing of Boston and London, had not, in my new life, in any way aided me to see that I had made a mistake in ordering a three-hundred-egg incubator to start building a prize flock with Mr. Golden Bird and the ten Ladies Leghorn, but in this case Adam had guided me from off that shoal, and by telegram I had changed the order for three fifty-egg improved metal mothers and the implements41 needed in accomplishing their maternal purpose. In one of them were now fifty beautiful white pearls that I could not refrain from visiting and regarding through the little window in the metallic42 side of the metallic mother at least several times an hour, though I knew that twice a day to regulate the heat and fill the lamp was sufficient.
"I don't believe I'll be able to stand seeing them hop43 out," I remarked to Baby Tillett, the lambkins, and the good old red ally, who was patiently seated on a box over fifteen of the pearls. Adam had kept the poor old darling covering some white china eggs for nearly two weeks before he gave her the pearls on the same day we put the forty-five in the interior of her metal rival. I didn't at first understand his sinister44 purpose in thus holding her back until the metal rival could get an even start, but I did later.
"I hope you have a mighty45 good hatching, Nancy, but I have no faith in half-way measures, and a tin box is a half-way measure for a hen, just as cleaning house without bed-sunning is trifling," said Mrs. Addcock, with a final prod46 as she came out to the barn with Mrs. Tillett to reclaim47 Baby Tillett.
"You ain't married, Miss Nancy, and you won't understand how babies need mothers, even the chicken kind," said Mrs. Tillett, as she cuddled Baby Tillett gurglingly against her shoulder and followed in the wake of Mrs. Addcock with the mops and buckets down the walk and around the house.
I stood beside the tin triumph of science, with my baby lambs licking at my hands, while Mrs. Ewe nuzzled for corn in one of my huge pockets, and a baby collie, which Pan had brought the week before, when her eyes were scarcely open, tumbled about my feet, and looked after the retreating women—and I did understand.
"Still, I'll do the best I can by your—your progeny, Mr. G. Bird," I said as the great big, white old fellow came and pecked in my pocket for corn in perfect friendliness48 with Mrs. Ewe.
I was called upon to keep my promise in less than a week. It might have been a tragedy if Bess Rutherford's practical sense had not helped save my affections from a panic. This is how it happened.
"Yes, chicken culture is a germ that spreads by contagion49. I'm not at all surprised at your friends," Adam had answered when I had appealed to him to know if I could sell Bess Rutherford just six of the baby chicks, when they came out, for her to begin a brood in a new back-yard system, only Bess is so progressive that she is having a nice big place in the conservatory50 that opens out of her living-room cleared for them to run about out of their tin mother when they want to. She says she believes eternal vigilance is the price of success with poultry51 as the book she bought, which is different from mine, says, and Bess decided52 that she wanted her chickens where she could go in to see them comfortably when she came from parties and things without having to go around in the back yard, which is the most lovely garden in Hayesville anyway, in her slippers53 and party clothes. "I'd sell her the chicks at twenty dollars apiece, and that's cheap if they produce as they ought to with their blood and such—such care as she intends to bestow54 on them. The twenty-dollar price will either cure her or start an idle woman into a producer," said Adam, in answer to my request, as he cut me out a pair of shoes from a piece of hide like that which the shoes upon his own feet were made from. It was raining, and I sat at his feet in the barn and laboriously55 sewed what he had cut.
I told Bess what Adam said, and she paid me the hundred and twenty dollars right on the spot, and then insisted on opening the incubator at the regular time for the ten minutes the book directs, to cool off the eggs night and morning, and putting her monogram56 on six of the eggs. To do this she decided to stay all night, and telephoned her maid, Annette, to pack her bag and let Matthew bring it out to her when he came to help Polly Corn-tassel put their first batch57 of eggs into their incubator. Matthew had bought twenty hens and two nice brotherly roosters, and they had almost caught up with me in the number of their brown babies on the whole shells. Matthew had been coming out night and morning ever since he had brought out his and the Beesleys' poultry and had either had supper with us at Elmnest or we had both got riz biscuits and peach preserves and chicken fried with Aunt Mary and Uncle Silas and Polly and Bud. I had subjugated58 Rufus into cooking a few canned things, for which I had traded one of his pig jaws59 at the bank-post-office-grocery emporium, and Uncle Silas had thrown in a few potatoes, and Adam had brought me a great bag of white beans from across Paradise Ridge60, so the diet at Elmnest had changed slightly. The absorbed twins had never noticed it at all; only they displayed more hearty61 vigor62 in attacking the problems of literature and history that absorbed them. Also almost every day Pan brought me young green things that were sprouting63 in the woods, and I cooked them for him in an old iron pot down by the spring-house and had supper with him.
"Those two dears are the most precious old Rips I ever beheld," said Bess when we had retired to my room after supper on the fateful night of our near tragedy. "You are so fortunate, Ann, to have two delicious fathers in name only. Mine pokes64 into my business at all angles and insists on so much attention from me that I don't know how I'll amount to anything in this world. He says it takes a very fine and brainy woman to earn about ten thousand dollars a year being affectionate and agreeable to her own father, and that I get so much because there is no possible competition as I am an only child, but all the same it looks like unearned money to me. Just wait until those six little chickens begin to earn me a hundred dollars a month like my book guarantees they will do in their second year; then I'm going to show dad just how much I love him for himself and give him back my bank-book."
"Still it is an awful lot of work, Bess," I remonstrated65 feebly, because I knew that I couldn't have made myself believe all I had learned in just two months at Elmnest the day I started in business.
"You know, Ann, I told you about that wonderful Evan Baldwin who has been in Hayesville two or three times this winter, the man to whom the governor gave the portfolio66 of agriculture, I believe they call it. Well, he was at the Old Hickory ball the other night when you wouldn't come, and I told him all about you and about buying those little chickens from you, and he was so wonderful and sympathetic that Owen Murray sulked dreadfully. He encouraged me entirely67 and told me a lot of things about some of his experiment stations in all the different States. You thought you were going to stagger me with that twenty-dollar price on those chicks in shell, but he said he had paid as much as five hundred dollars apiece for a few eggs he got from some prize chickens in England and had brought them over in a basket in his own hand. He said he thought from what I told him about the Golden Bird that twenty would be about right for one of his sons or daughters. Ann, he is a perfectly delicious man, and you must meet him. It is awful the way all the girls and women just follow him in droves, though I'm sure he doesn't seem to notice us."
"I never want to lay eyes on him, Bess. He has insulted me and I never—" but just here a thought struck me in my solar plexus and crinkled me entirely up. "Oh, Bess, I forgot to fill the lamp in the incubator to-night, and I believe the chicken eggs will be all chilled to death. What will I do? It is near midnight and it's—it's—c—cold."
"Let's get 'em quick and maybe we can resuscitate68 'em. Don't you remember about reviving frozen people in that first-aid class we had just after the war broke out and we didn't know whether we were in it or not? Come on, quick!" Bess seized the quilt from the bed and descended69 into the back yard, clad only in her lingerie for sleeping, a silk robe-de-chambre and satin mules70, while I followed, likewise garmented.
"Oh, dear, how cold," wailed71 Bess as the frosty Spring air poured around us in our flight to the barn.
"I'm going to put all the egg chickens in it," she answered as we scuttled74 into the barn out of the wind.
"The lamp is out, but the eggs still feel warm to the hand," I said as I knelt in deep contrition75 beside the metal hen.
"Fill it and light it, and they'll soon warm up," advised Bess.
"There's no oil on the place. I forgot it," I again wailed.
"Isn't there room under the hen here?" asked Bess, with the brilliant mind she inherited from Mr. Rutherford running over the speed limit, and as she spoke she felt under the old Red Ally, who only clucked good naturedly.
"It feels like she is covering a hundred now, and there's no room for more," said Bess, answering herself with almost a wail72 in her voice. "What will we do? The book says April-hatched chickens are the best, and these would have come out in just a few days."
And then from somewhere in my heart, which had harbored the cuddle of the cold lamb babies against it, there rose a knowledge of first aid for the near-baby chickens.
"Oh, Bess," I exclaimed, "let's wrap the tray of eggs up in the quilt and take it up-stairs to bed with us. We are just as warm as the hen, and I'll get Rufus to go for Polly at daylight to fix the lamp while we stay in bed and huddle76 them until the incubator warms up, as it does in just an hour after it's lighted."
"Ann, you are both maternal and intellectual," said Bess, with the deepest admiration77 in her voice. "Let's hurry or we'll never get warmed up ourselves."
And in very much less time than could be imagined Bess Rutherford and I were in the middle of the four-poster, sunk deep into the feathers with the precious pearls of life carefully imbedded between us.
"Now don't joggle," Bess commanded as we got all settled and tucked in.
"I don't believe it; no woman would undertake the responsibility of human life like that," Bess answered as she tucked in a loose end of cover under the pillow.
"Most of the world mothers sleep with their babies," Adam said when I told him about little Tillett, "and—" I was answering when I trailed off into a dream of walking a tight rope over a million white eggs. In the morning Bess said she had dreamed that she was a steam roller trying to make a road of eggs smooth enough to run her car over.
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1
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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mash
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| n.麦芽浆，糊状物，土豆泥；v.把…捣成糊状，挑逗，调情 | |
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walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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kernels
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| 谷粒( kernel的名词复数 )； 仁； 核； 要点 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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7
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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locust
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| n.蝗虫；洋槐，刺槐 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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munch
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| v.用力嚼，大声咀嚼 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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pruned
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| v.修剪（树木等）( prune的过去式和过去分词 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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barbarian
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| n.野蛮人；adj.野蛮(人)的；未开化的 | |
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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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cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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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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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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renovation
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| n.革新，整修 | |
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diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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42
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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43
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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44
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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prod
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| vt.戳，刺；刺激，激励 | |
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47
reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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48
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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49
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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50
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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51
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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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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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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monogram
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| n.字母组合 | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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subjugated
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| v.征服，降伏( subjugate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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pokes
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| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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resuscitate
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| v.使复活，使苏醒 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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