PATTY had been searching for eggs in the barn chamber1, and coming down the ladder from the haymow spied her father washing the wagon2 by the well-side near the shed door. Cephas Cole kept store for him at meal hours and whenever trade was unusually brisk, and the Baxter yard was so happily situated3 that Old Foxy could watch both house and store.
There never was a good time to ask Deacon Baxter a favor, therefore this moment would serve as well as any other, so, approaching him near enough to be heard through the rubbing and splashing, but no nearer than was necessary Patty said:--
"Father, can I go up to Ellen Wilson's this afternoon and stay to tea? I won't start till I've done a good day's work and I'll come home early."
"What do you want to go gallivantin' to the neighbors for? I never saw anything like the girls nowadays; highty-tighty, flauntin', traipsin', triflin' trollops, ev'ry one of 'em, that's what they are, and Ellen Wilson's one of the triflin'est. You're old enough now to stay to home where you belong and make an effort to earn your board and clothes, which you can't, even if you try."
Spunk4, real, Simon-pure spunk, started somewhere in Patty and coursed through her blood like wine.
"If a girl's old enough to stay at home and work, I should think she was old enough to go out and play once in a while." Patty was still too timid to make this remark more than a courteous5 suggestion, so far as its tone was concerned.
"Don't answer me back; you're full of new tricks, and you've got to stop 'em, right where you are, or there'll be trouble. You were whistlin' just now up in the barn chamber; that's one of the things I won't have round my premises,--a whistlin' girl."
"'T was a Sabbath-School hymn6 that I was whistling!" This with a creditable imitation of defiance7.
"That don't make it any better. Sing your hymns8 if you must make a noise while you're workin'."
"It's the same mouth that makes the whistle and sings the song, so I don't see why one's any wickeder than the other."
"You don't have to see," replied the Deacon grimly; "all you have to do is to mind when you're spoken to. Now run 'long 'bout9 your work."
"Can't I go up to Ellen's, then?"
"What's goin' on up there?"
"Just a frolic. There's always a good time at Ellen's, and I would so like the sight of a big, rich house now and then!"
"'Just a frolic.' Land o' Goshen, hear the girl! 'Sight of a big, rich house,' indeed!--Will there be any boys at the party?"
"I s'pose so, or 't wouldn't be a frolic," said Patty with awful daring; "but there won't be many; only a few of Mark's friends."
"Well, there ain't goin' to be no more argyfyin'! I won't have any girl o' mine frolickin' with boys, so that's the end of it. You're kind o' crazy lately, riggin' yourself out with a ribbon here and a flower there, and pullin' your hair down over your ears. Why do you want to cover your ears up? What are they for?"
"To hear you with, father," Patty replied, with honey-sweet voice and eyes that blazed.
"Well, I hope they'll never hear anything worse," replied her father, flinging a bucket of water over the last of the wagon wheels.
"THEY COULDN'T!" These words were never spoken aloud, but oh! how Patty longed to shout them with a clarion10 voice as she walked away in perfect silence, her majestic11 gait showing, she hoped, how she resented the outcome of the interview.
"I've stood up to father!" she exclaimed triumphantly12 as she entered the kitchen and set down her yellow bowl of eggs on the table. "I stood up to him, and answered him back three times!"
Waitstill was busy with her Saturday morning cooking, but she turned in alarm.
"Patty, what have you said and done? Tell me quickly!"
"I 'argyfied,' but it didn't do any good; he won't let me go to Ellen's party."
Waitstill wiped her floury hands and put them on her sister's shoulders.
"Hear what I say, Patty: you must not argue with father, whatever he says. We don't love him and so there isn't the right respect in our hearts, but at least there can be respect in our manners."
"I don't believe I can go on for years, holding in, Waitstill!" Patty whimpered.
"Yes, you can. I have!"
"You're different, Waitstill."
"I wasn't so different at sixteen, but that's five years ago, and I've got control of my tongue and my temper since then. Sometime, perhaps, when I have a grievance13 too great to be rightly borne, sometime when you are away from here in a home of your own, I shall speak out to father; just empty my heart of all the disappointment and bitterness and rebellion. Somebody ought to tell him the truth, and perhaps it will be me!"
"I wish it could be me," exclaimed Patty vindictively14, and with an equal disregard of grammar.
"You would speak in temper, I'm afraid, Patty, and that would spoil all. I'm sorry you can't go up to Ellen's," she sighed, turning back to her work; "you don't have pleasure enough for one of your age; still, don't fret15; something may happen to change things, and anyhow the weather is growing warmer, and you and I have so many more outings in summer-time. Smooth down your hair, child; there are straws in it, and it's all rough with the wind. I don't like flying hair about a kitchen."
"I wish my hair was flying somewhere a thousand miles from here; or at least I should wish it if it did not mean leaving you; for oh. I'm so miserable16 and disappointed and unhappy!"
Waitstill bent17 over the girl as she flung herself down beside the table and smoothed her shoulder gently.
"There, there, dear; it isn't like my gay little sister to cry. What is the matter with you to-day, Patty?"
"I suppose it's the spring," she said, wiping her eyes with her apron18 and smiling through her tears. "Perhaps I need a dose of sulphur and molasses."
"Don't you feel well as common?"
"Well? I feel too well! I feel as if I was a young colt shut up in an attic19. I want to kick up my heels, batter20 the door down, and get out into the pasture. It's no use talking, Waity;--I can't go on living without a bit of pleasure and I can't go on being patient even for your sake. If it weren't for you, I'd run away as Job did; and I never believed Moses slipped on the logs; I'm sure he threw himself into the river, and so should I if I had the courage!"
"Stop, Patty, stop, dear! You shall have your bit of pasture, at least. I'll do some of your indoor tasks for you, and you shall put on your sunbonnet and go out and dig the dandelion greens for dinner. Take the broken knife and a milkpan and don't bring in so much earth with them as you did last time. Dry your eyes and look at the green things growing. Remember how young you are and how many years are ahead of you! Go along, dear!"
Waitstill went about her work with rather a heavy heart. Was life going to be more rather than less difficult, now that Patty was growing up? Would she he able to do her duty both by father and sister and keep peace in the household, as she had vowed22, in her secret heart, always to do? She paused every now and then to look out of the window and wave an encouraging hand to Patty. The girl's bonnet21 was off, and her uncovered head blazed like red gold in the sunlight. The short young grass was dotted with dandelion blooms, some of them already grown to huge disks of yellow, and Patty moved hither and thither23, selecting the younger weeds, deftly24 putting the broken knife under their roots and popping them into the tin pan. Presently, for Deacon Baxter had finished the wagon and gone down the hill to relieve Cephas Cole at the counter, Patty's shrill25 young whistle floated into the kitchen, but with a mischievous26 glance at the open window she broke off suddenly and began to sing the words of the hymn with rather more emphasis and gusto than strict piety27 warranted.
"There'll be SOMEthing in heav-en for chil-dren to do,
None are idle in that bless-ed land:
There'll be WORK for the heart. There'll be WORK for the mind,
And emPLOYment for EACH little hand.
"There'll be SOME-thing to do,
There'll be SOME-thing to do,
There'll be SOME-thing for CHIL-dren to do!
On that bright blessed shore where there's joy evermore,
There'll be SOME-thing for CHIL-DREN to do."
Patty's young existence being full to the brim of labor28, this view of heaven never in the least appealed to her and she rendered the hymn with little sympathy. The main part of the verse was strongly accented by jabs at the unoffending dandelion roots, but when the chorus came she brought out the emphatic29 syllables30 by a beat of the broken knife on the milkpan.
This rendition of a Sabbath-School classic did not meet Waitstill's ideas of perfect propriety31, but she smiled and let it pass, planning some sort of recreation for a stolen half-hour of the afternoon. It would have to be a walk through the pasture into the woods to see what had grown since they went there a fortnight ago. Patty loved people better than Nature, but failing the one she could put up with the other, for she had a sense of beauty and a pagan love of color. There would be pale-hued innocence32 and blue and white violets in the moist places, thought Waitstill, and they would have them in a china cup on the supper-table. No, that would never do, for last time father had knocked them over when he was reaching for the bread, and in a silent protest against such foolishness got up from the table and emptied theirs into the kitchen sink.
"There's a place for everything," he said when he came back, "and the place for flowers is outdoors."
Then in the pine woods there would be, she was sure, Star of Bethlehem, Solomon's Seal, the white spray of groundnuts and bunchberries. Perhaps they could make a bouquet33 and Patty would take it across the fields to Mrs. Boynton's door. She need not go in, and thus they would not be disobeying their father's command not to visit that "crazy Boynton woman."
Here Patty came in with a pan full of greens and the sisters sat down in the sunny window to get them ready for the pot.
"I'm calmer," the little rebel allowed. "That's generally the way it turns out with me. I get into a rage, but I can generally sing it off!"
"You certainly must have got rid of a good deal of temper this morning, by the way your voice sounded."
"Nobody can hear us in this out-of-the-way place. It's easy enough to see that the women weren't asked to say anything when the men settled where the houses should be built! The men weren't content to stick them on the top of a high hill, or half a mile from the stores, but put them back to the main road, taking due care to cut the sink-window where their wives couldn't see anything even when they were washing dishes."
"I don't know that I ever thought about it in that way"; and Waitstill looked out of the window in a brown study while her hands worked with the dandelion greens. "I've noticed it, but I never supposed the men did it intentionally34."
"No, you wouldn't," said Patty with the pessimism35 of a woman of ninety, as she stole an admiring glance at her sister. Patty's own face, irregular, piquant36, tantalizing37, had its peculiar38 charm, and her brilliant skin and hair so dazzled the masculine beholder39 that he took note of no small defects; but Waitstill was beautiful; beautiful even in her working dress of purple calico. Her single braid of hair, the Foxwell hair, that in her was bronze and in Patty pale auburn, was wound once around her fine head and made to stand a little as it went across the front. It was a simple, easy, unconscious fashion of her own, quite different from anything done by other women in her time and place, and it just suited her dignity and serenity40. It looked like a coronet, but it was the way she carried her head that gave you the fancy, there was such spirit and pride in the poise41 of it on the long graceful42 neck. Her eyes were as clear as mountain pools shaded by rushes, and the strength of the face was softened43 by the sweetness of the mouth.
Patty never let the conversation die out for many seconds at a time and now she began again. "My sudden rages don't match my name very well, but, of course, mother didn't know how I was going to turn out when she called me Patience, for I was nothing but a squirming little bald, red baby; but my name really is too ridiculous when you think about it."
Waitstill laughed as she said: "It didn't take you long to change it! Perhaps Patience was a hard word for a baby to say, but the moment you could talk you said, 'Patty wants this' and 'Patty wants that."'
"Did Patty ever get it? She never has since, that's certain! And look at your name: it's 'Waitstill,' yet you never stop a moment. When you're not in the shed or barn, or chicken-house, or kitchen or attic, or garden-patch, you are working in the Sunday School or the choir44."
It seemed as if Waitstill did not intend to answer this arraignment45 of her activities. She rose and crossed the room to put the pan of greens in the sink, preparing to wash them.
Taking the long-handled dipper from the nail, she paused a moment before plunging46 it into the water pail; paused, and leaning her elbow on a corner of the shelf over the sink, looked steadfastly47 out into the orchard48.
Patty watched her curiously49 and was just going to offer a penny for her thoughts when Waitstill suddenly broke the brief silence by saying: "Yes, I am always busy; it's better so, but all the same, Patty, I'm waiting,--inside! I don't know for what, but I always feel that I am waiting!"
收听单词发音 |
1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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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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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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spunk
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| n.勇气，胆量 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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clarion
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| n.尖音小号声；尖音小号 | |
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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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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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vindictively
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| adv.恶毒地；报复地 | |
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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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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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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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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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31
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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intentionally
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| ad.故意地，有意地 | |
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pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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tantalizing
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| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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43
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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44
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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arraignment
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| n.提问，传讯，责难 | |
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46
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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