Sunday afternoon, Orde, leaving Newmark to devices of his own, walked slowly up the main street, turned to the right down one of the shaded side residence streets that ended finally in a beautiful glistening1 sand-hill. Up this he toiled2 slowly, starting at every step avalanches3 and streams down the slope. Shortly he found himself on the summit, and paused for a breath of air from the lake.
He was just above the tops of the maples4, which seen from this angle stretched away like a forest through which occasionally thrust roofs and spires6. Some distance beyond a number of taller buildings and the red of bricks were visible. Beyond them still were other sand-hills, planted raggedly7 with wind-twisted and stunted8 trees. But between the brick buildings and these sand-hills flowed the river--wide, deep, and still--bordered by the steamboat landings on the town side and by fishermen's huts and net-racks and small boats on the other. Orde seated himself on the smooth, clean sand and removed his hat. He saw these things, and in imagination the far upper stretches of the river, with the mills and yards and booms extending for miles; and still above them the marshes9 and the flats where the river widened below the Big Bend. That would be the location for the booms of the new company--a cheap property on which the partners had already secured a valuation. And below he dropped in imagination with the slackening current until between two greater sand-hills than the rest the river ran out through the channel made by two long piers10 to the lake--blue, restless, immeasurable. To right and left stretched the long Michigan coast, with its low yellow hills topped with the green of twisted pines, firs, and beeches12, with always its beach of sand, deep and dry to the very edge of its tideless sea, strewn with sawlogs, bark, and the ancient remains13 of ships.
After he had cooled he arose and made his way back to a pleasant hardwood forest of maple5 and beech11. Here the leaves were just bursting from their buds. Underfoot the early spring flowers--the hepaticas, the anemones14, the trilium, the dog-tooth violets, the quaint15, early, bright-green undergrowths--were just reaching their perfection. Migration16 was in full tide. Birds, little and big, flashed into view and out again, busy in the mystery of their northward17 pilgrimage, giving the appearance of secret and silent furtiveness18, yet each uttering his characteristic call from time to time, as though for a signal to others of the host. The woods were swarming19 as city streets, yet to Orde these little creatures were as though invisible. He stood in the middle of a great multitude, he felt himself under the observation of many bright eyes, he heard the murmuring and twittering that proclaimed a throng20, he sensed an onward21 movement that flowed slowly but steadily22 toward the pole; nevertheless, a flash of wings, a fluttering little body, the dip of a hasty short flight, represented the visible tokens. Across the pale silver sun of April their shadows flickered23, and with them flickered the tracery of new leaves and the delicacy24 of the lace-like upper branches.
Orde walked slowly farther and farther into the forest, lost in an enjoyment25 which he could not have defined accurately26, but which was so integral a portion of his nature that it had drawn27 him from the banks and wholesale28 groceries to the woods. After a while he sat down on a log and lit his pipe. Ahead the ground sloped upward. Dimly through the half-fronds of the early season he could make out the yellow of sands and the deep complementary blue of the sky above them. He knew the Lake to lie just beyond. With the thought he arose. A few moments later he stood on top the hill, gazing out over the blue waters.
Very blue they were, with a contrasting snowy white fringe of waves breaking gently as far up the coast as the eye could reach. The beach, on these tideless waters, was hard and smooth only in the narrow strip over which ran the wash of the low surf. All the rest of the expanse of sand back to the cliff-like hills lay dry and tumbled into hummocks29 and drifts, from which projected here a sawlog cast inland from a raft by some long-past storm, there a slab30, again a ship's rib31 sticking gaunt and defiant32 from the shifting, restless medium that would smother33 it. And just beyond the edge of the hard sand, following the long curves of the wash, lay a dark, narrow line of bark fragments.
The air was very clear and crystalline. The light-houses on the ends of the twin piers, though some miles distant, seemed close at hand. White herring gulls34, cruising against the blue, flashed white as the sails of a distant ship. A fresh breeze darkened the blue velvet35 surface of the water, tumbled the white foam36 hissing37 up the beach, blew forward over the dunes38 a fine hurrying mist of sand, and bore to Orde at last the refreshment39 of the wide spaces. A woman, walking slowly, bent40 her head against the force of this wind.
Orde watched her idly. She held to the better footing of the smooth sand, which made it necessary that she retreat often before the inrushing wash, sometimes rather hastily. Orde caught himself admiring the grace of her deft41 and sudden movements, and the sway of her willowy figure. Every few moments she turned and faced the lake, her head thrown back, the wind whipping her garments about her.
As she drew nearer, Orde tried in vain to catch sight of her face. She looked down, watching the waters advance and recede42; she wore a brimmed hat bent around her head by means of some sort of veil tied over the top and beneath her chin. When she had arrived nearly opposite Orde she turned abruptly43 inland, and a moment later began laboriously44 to climb the steep sand.
The process seemed to amuse her. She turned her head sidewise to watch with interest the hurrying, tumbling little cascades45 that slid from her every step. From time to time she would raise her skirts daintily with the tips of her fingers, and lean far over in order to observe with interest how her feet sank to the ankles, and how the sand rushed from either side to fill in the depressions. The wind carried up to Orde low, joyous46 chuckles47 of delight, like those of a happy child.
As though directed by some unseen guide, her course veered48 more and more until it led directly to the spot where Orde stood. When she was within ten feet of him she at last raised her head so the young man could see something besides the top of her hat. Orde looked plump into her eyes.
"Hullo!" she said cheerfully and unsurprised, and sank down cross-legged at his feet.
Orde stood quite motionless, overcome by astonishment49. Her face, its long oval framed in the bands of the gray veil and the down-turned brim of the hat, looked up smiling into his. The fresh air had deepened the colour beneath her skin and had blown loose stray locks of the fine shadow-filled hair. Her red lips, with the quaintly50 up-turned corners, smiled at him with a new frankness, and the black eyes--the eyes so black as to resemble spots--had lost their half-indolent reserve and brimmed over quite frankly51 with the joy of life. She scooped52 up a handful of the dry, clean sand from either side of her, raised it aloft, and let it trickle54 slowly between her fingers. The wind snatched at the sand and sprayed it away in a beautiful plume55.
"Isn't this REAL fun?" she asked him.
"Why, Miss Bishop56!" cried Orde, finding his voice. "What are you doing here?"
A faint shade of annoyance57 crossed her brow.
"Oh, I could ask the same of you; and then we'd talk about how surprised we are, world without end," said she. "The important thing is that here is sand to play in, and there is the Lake, and here are we, and the day is charmed, and it's good to be alive. Sit down and dig a hole! We've all the common days to explain things in."
Orde laughed and seated himself to face her. Without further talk, and quite gravely, they commenced to scoop53 out an excavation58 between them, piling the sand over themselves and on either side as was most convenient. As the hole grew deeper they had to lean over more and more. Their heads sometimes brushed ever so lightly, their hands perforce touched. Always the dry sand flowed from the edges partially59 to fill in the result their efforts. Faster and faster they scooped it out again. The excavation thus took on the shape of a funnel60. Her cheeks glowed pink, her eyes shone like stars. Entirely61 was she absorbed in the task. At last a tiny commotion62 manifested itself in the bottom of the funnel. Impulsively63 she laid her hand on Orde's, to stop them. Fascinated, they watched. After incredible though lilliputian upheavals64, at length appeared a tiny black insect, struggling against the rolling, overwhelming sands. With great care the girl scooped this newcomer out and set him on the level ground. She looked up happily at Orde, thrusting the loose hair from in front of her eyes.
"I was convinced we ought to dig a hole," said she gravely. "Now, let's go somewhere else."
She arose to her feet, shaking the sand free from her skirts.
"I think, through these woods," she decided65. "Can we get back to town this way?"
Receiving Orde's assurance, she turned at once down the slope through the fringe of scrub spruces and junipers into the tall woods. Here the air fell still. She remarked on how warm it seemed, and began to untie66 from over her ears the narrow band of veil that held close her hat.
"Yes," replied Orde. "The lumber-jacks say that the woods are the poor man's overcoat."
She paused to savour this, her head on one side, her arms upraised to the knot.
"Oh, I like that!" said she, continuing her task. In a moment or so the veil hung free. She removed it and the hat, and swung them both from one finger, and threw back her head.
"Hear all the birds!" she said.
Softly she began to utter a cheeping noise between her lips and teeth, low and plaintive67. At once the volume of bird-sounds about increased; the half-seen flashes became more frequent. A second later the twigs68 were alive with tiny warblers and creepers, flirting69 from branch to branch, with larger, more circumspect70 chewinks, catbirds, and finches hopping71 down from above, very silent, very grave. In the depths of the thickets72 the shyer hermit73 and olive thrushes and the oven birds revealed themselves ghost-like, or as sea-growths lift into a half visibility through translucent74 shadows the colour of themselves. All were very intent, very earnest, very interested, each after his own manner, in the comradeship of the featherhood he imagined to be uttering distressful75 cries. A few, like the chickadees, quivered their wings, opened their little mouths, fluttered down tiny but aggressive against the disaster. Others hopped76 here and there restlessly, uttering plaintive, low-toned cheeps. The shyest contented77 themselves by a discreet78, silent, and distant sympathy. Three or four freebooting Jays, attracted not so much by the supposed calls for help as by curiosity, fluttered among the tops of the trees, uttering their harsh notes.
Finally, the girl ended her performance in a musical laugh.
"Run away, Brighteyes," she called. "It's all right; nobody's damaged."
She waved her hand. As though at a signal, the host she had evoked79 melted back into the shadows of the forest. Only the chickadee, impudent80 as ever, retreated scolding rather ostentatiously, and the jays, splendid in their ornate blue, screamed opinions at each other from the tops of trees.
"How would you like to be a bird?" she inquired.
"Hadn't thought," replied Orde.
"Don't you ever indulge in vain and idle speculations81?" she inquired. "Never mind, don't answer. It's too much to expect of a man."
She set herself in idle motion down the slope, swinging the hat at the end of its veil, pausing to look or listen, humming a little melody between her closed lips, throwing her head back to breathe deep the warm air, revelling82 in the woods sounds and woods odours and woods life with entire self-abandonment. Orde followed her in silence. She seemed to be quite without responsibility in regard to him; and yet an occasional random83 remark thrown in his direction proved that he was not forgotten. Finally they emerged from the beach woods.
They faced an open rolling country. As far as the eye could reach were the old stumps84 of pine trees. Sometimes they stood in place, burned and scarred, but attesting85 mutely the abiding86 place of a spirit long since passed away. Sometimes they had been uprooted87 and dragged to mark the boundaries of fields, where they raised an abatis of twisted roots to the sky.
The girl stopped short as she came face to face with this open country. The inner uplift, that had lent to her aspect the wide-eyed, careless joy of a child, faded. In its place came a new and serious gravity. She turned on him troubled eyes.
"You do this," she accused him quite simply.
For answer he motioned to the left where below them lay a wide and cultivated countryside--farmhouses surrounded by elms; compact wood lots of hardwood; crops and orchards88, all fair and pleasant across the bosom89 of a fertile nature.
"And this," said he. "That valley was once nothing but a pine forest--and so was all the southern part of the State, the peach belt and the farms. And for that matter Indiana, too, and all the other forest States right out to the prairies. Where would we be now, if we HADN'T done that?" he pointed90 across at the stump-covered hills.
Mischief91 had driven out the gravity from the girl's eyes. She had lowered her head slightly sidewise as though to conceal92 their expression from him.
"I was beginning to be afraid you'd say 'yes-indeed,'" said she.
Orde looked bewildered, then remembered the Incubus93, and laughed.
"I haven't been very conversational," he acknowledged.
"Certainly NOT!" she said severely94. "That would have been very disappointing. There has been nothing to say." She turned and waved her hat at the beech woods falling sombre against the lowering sun.
"Good-bye," she said gravely, "and pleasant dreams to you. I hope those very saucy95 little birds won't keep you awake." She looked up at Orde. "He was rather nice to us this afternoon," she explained, "and it's always well to be polite to them anyway." She gazed steadily at Orde for signs of amusement. He resolutely96 held his face sympathetic.
"Now I think we'll go home," said she.
They made their way between the stumps to the edge of the sand-hill overlooking the village. With one accord they stopped. The low-slanting sun cast across the vista97 a sleepy light of evening.
"How would you like to live in a place like that all your life?" asked Orde.
"I don't know." She weighed her words carefully. "It would depend. The place isn't of so much importance, it seems to me. It's the life one is called to. It's whether one finds her soul's realm or not that a place is liveable or not. I can imagine entering my kingdom at a railway water-tank," she said quaintly, "or missing it entirely in a big city."
Orde looked out over the raw little village with a new interest.
"Of course I can see how a man's work can lie in a small place," said he; "but a woman is different."
"Why is a woman different?" she challenged. "What is her 'work,' as you call it; and why shouldn't it, as well as a man's, lie in a small place? What is work--outside of drudgery--unless it is correspondence of one's abilities to one's task?"
"But the compensations--" began Orde vaguely98.
"Compensations?" she cried. "What do you mean? Here are the woods and fields, the river, the lake, the birds, and the breezes. We'll check them off against the theatre and balls. Books can be had here as well as anywhere. As to people: in a large city you meet a great many, and they're all busy, and unless you make an especial and particular effort--which you're not likely to--you'll see them only casually99 and once in a great while. In a small place you know fewer people; but you know them intimately." She broke off with a half-laugh. "I'm from New York," she stated humorously, "and you've magicked me into an eloquent100 defense101 of Podunk!" She laughed up at Orde quite frankly. "Giant Strides!" she challenged suddenly. She turned off the edge of the sand-hill, and began to plunge102 down its slope, leaning far back, her arms extended, increasing as much as possible the length of each step. Orde followed at full speed. When the bottom was reached, he steadied her to a halt. She shook herself, straightened her hat, and wound the veil around it. Her whole aspect seemed to have changed with the descent into the conventionality of the village street. The old, gentle though capable and self-contained reserve had returned. She moved beside Orde with dignity.
"I came down with Jane and Mrs. Hubbard to see Mr. Hubbard off on the boat for Milwaukee last night," she told him. "Of course we had to wait over Sunday. Mrs. Hubbard and Jane had to see some relative or other; but I preferred to take a walk."
"Where are you staying?" asked Orde.
"At the Bennetts'. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes," replied Orde.
They said little more until the Bennetts' gate was reached. Orde declined to come in.
"Good-night," she said. "I want to thank you. You did not once act as though you thought I was silly or crazy. And you didn't try, as all the rest of them would, to act silly too. You couldn't have done it; and you didn't try. Oh, you may have felt it--I know!" She smiled one of her quaint and quizzical smiles. "But men aren't built for foolishness. They have to leave that to us. You've been very nice this afternoon; and it's helped a lot. I'm good for quite a long stretch now. Good-night."
She nodded to him and left him tongue-tied by the gate.
Orde, however, walked back to the hotel in a black rage with himself over what he termed his imbecility. As he remembered it, he had made just one consecutive103 speech that afternoon.
"Joe," said he to Newmark, at the hotel office, "what's the plural104 form of Incubus? I dimly remember it isn't 'busses.'"
"Incubi," answered Newmark.
"Thanks," said Orde gloomily.
收听单词发音 |
1
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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avalanches
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| n.雪崩( avalanche的名词复数 ) | |
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maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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raggedly
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| 破烂地，粗糙地 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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anemones
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| n.银莲花( anemone的名词复数 )；海葵 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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migration
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| n.迁移，移居，（鸟类等的）迁徙 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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furtiveness
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| 偷偷摸摸，鬼鬼祟祟 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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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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wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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hummocks
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| n.小丘，岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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rib
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| n.肋骨，肋状物 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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dunes
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| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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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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45
cascades
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| 倾泻( cascade的名词复数 )； 小瀑布（尤指一连串瀑布中的一支）； 瀑布状物； 倾泻（或涌出）的东西 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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chuckles
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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51
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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52
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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53
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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54
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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55
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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56
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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58
excavation
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| n.挖掘，发掘；被挖掘之地 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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61
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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upheavals
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| 突然的巨变( upheaval的名词复数 )； 大动荡； 大变动； 胀起 | |
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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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untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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69
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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distressful
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| adj.苦难重重的，不幸的，使苦恼的 | |
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76
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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attesting
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| v.证明( attest的现在分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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uprooted
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| v.把（某物）连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 )；根除；赶走；把…赶出家园 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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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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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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100
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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101
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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102
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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103
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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104
plural
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| n.复数；复数形式；adj.复数的 | |
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