章节正文
Towards night he reached an old country tavern, lording it over an
incipient village of six houses. The landlord and hostler were
inspecting a drooping-looking horse in front of the stables. Now,
if there was any thing which Jacob understood, to the extent of his
limited experience, it was horse nature. He drew near, listened to
the views of the two men, examined the animal with his eyes, and
was ready to answer, "Yes, I guess so," when the landlord said,
"Perhaps, sir, you can tell what is the matter with him."
His prompt detection of the ailment, and prescription of a remedy
which in an hour showed its good effects, installed him in the
landlord's best graces. The latter said, "Well, it shall cost you
nothing to-night," as he led the way to the supper-room. When
Jacob went to bed he was surprised on reflecting that he had not
only been talking for a full hour in the bar-room, but had been
looking people in the face.
Resisting an offer of good wages if he would stay and help look
after the stables, he set forward the next morning with a new and
most delightful confidence in himself. The knowledge that now
nobody knew him as "Jake Flint" quite removed his tortured self-
consciousness. When he met a person who was glum and ungracious of
speech, he saw, nevertheless, that he was not its special object.
He was sometimes asked questions, to be sure, which a little
embarrassed him, but he soon hit upon answers which were
sufficiently true without betraying his purpose.
Wandering sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, he
slowly made his way into the land, until, on the afternoon of the
fourth day after leaving home, he found himself in a rougher
region--a rocky, hilly tract, with small and not very flourishing
farms in the valleys. Here the season appeared to be more backward
than in the open country; the hay harvest was not yet over.
Jacob's taste for scenery was not particularly cultivated, but
something in the loneliness and quiet of the farms reminded him of
his own home; and he looked at one house after another,
deliberating with himself whether it would not be a good place to
spend the remainder of his month of probation. He seemed to be
very far from home--about forty miles, in fact,--and was beginning
to feel a little tired of wandering.
Finally the road climbed a low pass of the hills, and dropped into
a valley on the opposite side. There was but one house in view--a
two-story building of logs and plaster, with a garden and orchard
on the hillside in the rear. A large meadow stretched in front,
and when the whole of it lay clear before him, as the road issued
from a wood, his eye was caught by an unusualharvest picture.
Directly before him, a woman, whose face was concealed by a huge,
flapping sun-bonnet, was seated upon a mowing machine, guiding a
span of horses around the great tract of thick grass which was
still uncut. A little distance off, a boy and girl were raking the
drier swaths together, and a hay-cart, drawn by oxen and driven by
a man, was just entering the meadow from the side next the barn.
Jacob hung his bundle upon a stake, threw his coat and waistcoat
over the rail, and, resting his chin on his shirted arms, leaned on
the fence, and watched the hay-makers. As the woman came down the
nearer side she appeared to notice him, for her head was turned
from time to time in his direction. When she had made the round,
she stopped the horses at the corner, spranglightly from her seat
and called to the man, who, leaving his team, met her half-way.
They were nearly a furlong distant, but Jacob was quite sure that
she pointed to him, and that the man looked in the same direction.
Presently she set off across the meadow, directly towards him.
When within a few paces of the fence, she stopped, threw back the
flaps of her sun-bonnet, and said, "Good day to you!" Jacob was
so amazed to see a bright, fresh, girlish face, that he stared at
her with all his eyes, forgetting to drop his head. Indeed, he
could not have done so, for his chin was propped upon the top rail
of the fence.
"You are a stranger, I see," she added.
"Yes, in these parts," he replied.
"Looking for work?"
He hardly knew what answer to make, so he said, at a venture,
"That's as it happens." Then he colored a little, for the words
seemed foolish to his ears.
"Time's precious," said the girl, "so I'll tell you at once we want
help. Our hay MUST be got in while the fine weather lasts."
"I'll help you!" Jacob exclaimed, taking his arms from the rail,
and looking as willing as he felt.
"I'm so glad! But I must tell you, at first, that we're not rich,
and the hands are asking a great deal now. How much do you
expect?"
"Whatever you please?" said he, climbing the fence.
"No, that's not our way of doing business. What do you say to a
dollar a day, and found?"
"All right!" and with the words he was already at her side, taking
long strides over the elastic turf.
"I will go on with my mowing," said she, when they reached the
horses, "and you can rake and load with my father. What name shall
I call you by?"
"Everybody calls me Jake."
"`Jake!' Jacob is better. Well, Jacob, I hope you'll give us all
the help you can."
With a nod and a light laugh she sprang upon the machine. There
was a sweet throb in Jacob's heart, which, if he could have
expressed it, would have been a triumphant shout of "I'm not afraid
of her! I'm not afraid of her!"
The farmer was a kindly, depressed man, with whose quiet ways Jacob
instantly felt himself at home. They worked steadily until sunset,
when the girl, detaching her horses from the machine, mounted one
of them and led the other to the barn. At the supper-table, the
farmer's wife said: "Susan, you must be very tired."
"Not now, mother!" she cheerily answered. "I was, I think, but
after I picked up Jacob I felt sure we should get our hay in."
"It was a good thing," said the farmer; "Jacob don't need to be
told how to work."
Poor Jacob! He was so happy he could have cried. He sat and
listened, and blushed a little, with a smile on his face which it
was a pleasure to see. The honest people did not seem to regard
him in the least as a stranger; they discussed their family
interests and troubles and hopes before him, and in a little while
it seemed as if he had known them always.
How faithfully he worked! How glad and tired he felt when night
came, and the hay-mow was filled, and the great stacks grew beside
the barn! But ah! the haying came to an end, and on the last
evening, at supper, everybody was constrained and silent. Even
Susan looked grave and thoughtful.
"Jacob," said the farmer, finally, "I wish we could keep you until
wheat harvest; but you know we are poor, and can't afford it.
Perhaps you could--"
He hesitated; but Jacob, catching at the chance and obeying his own
unselfish impulse, cried: "Oh, yes, I can; I'll be satisfied with
my board, till the wheat's ripe."
Susan looked at him quickly, with a bright, speaking face.
"It's hardly fair to you," said the farmer.
"But I like to be here so much!" Jacob cried. "I like--all of
you!"
"We DO seem to suit," said the farmer, "like as one family. And
that reminds me, we've not heard your family name yet."
"Flint."
"Jacob FLINT!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, with sudden
agitation.
Jacob was scared and troubled. They had heard of him, he thought,
and who knew what ridiculous stories? Susan noticed an anxiety on
his face which she could not understand, but she unknowingly came
to his relief.
"Why, mother," she asked, "do you know Jacob's family?"
"No, I think not," said her mother, "only somebody of the name,
long ago."
His offer, however, was gratefully accepted. The bright, hot
summer days came and went, but no flower of July ever opened as
rapidly and richly and warmly as his chilled, retarded nature. New
thoughts and instincts came with every morning's sun, and new
conclusions were reached with every evening's twilight. Yet as the
wheat harvest drew towards the end, he felt that he must leave the
place. The month of absence had gone by, he scarce knew how. He
was free to return home, and, though he might offer to bridge over
the gap between wheat and oats, as he had already done between hay
and wheat, he imagined the family might hesitate to accept such an
offer. Moreover, this life at Susan's side was fast growing to be
a pain, unless he could assure himself that it would be so forever.
They were in the wheat-field, busy with the last sheaves; she
raking and he binding. The farmer and younger children had gone to
the barn with a load. Jacob was workingsilently and steadily, but
when they had reached the end of a row, he stopped, wiped his
wet brow, and suddenly said, "Susan, I suppose to-day finishes my
work here."
"Yes," she answered very slowly.
"And yet I'm very sorry to go."
"I--WE don't want you to go, if we could help it."
Jacob appeared to struggle with himself. He attempted to speak.
"If I could--" he brought out, and then paused. "Susan, would you
be glad if I came back?"
His eyes implored her to read his meaning. No doubt she read it
correctly, for her face flushed, her eyelids fell, and she barely
murmured, "Yes, Jacob."
"Then I'll come!" he cried; "I'll come and help you with the oats.
Don't talk of pay! Only tell me I'll be welcome! Susan, don't you
believe I'll keep my word?"
"I do indeed," said she, looking him firmly in the face.
That was all that was said at the time; but the two understood each
other tolerably well.
On the afternoon of the second day, Jacob saw again the lonely
house of his father. His journey was made, yet, if any of the
neighbors had seen him, they would never have believed that he had
come back rich.
Samuel Flint turned away to hide a peculiar smile when he saw his
son; but little was said until late that evening, after Harry and
Sally had left. Then he required and received an exact account of
Jacob's experience during his absence. After hearing the
story to the end, he said, "And so you love this Susan Meadows?"
"I'd--I'd do any thing to be with her."
"Are you afraid of her?"
"No!" Jacob uttered the word so emphatically that it rang through
the house.
"Ah, well!" said the old man, lifting his eyes, and speaking in the
air, "all the harm may be mended yet. But there must be another
test." Then he was silent for some time.
"I have it!" he finally exclaimed. "Jacob, you must go back for
the oats harvest. You must ask Susan to be your wife, and ask her
parents to let you have her. But,--pay attention to my words!--you
must tell her that you are a poor, hired man on this place, and
that she can be engaged as housekeeper. Don't speak of me as your
father, but as the owner of the farm. Bring her here in that
belief, and let me see how honest and willing she is. I can easily
arrange matters with Harry and Sally while you are away; and I'll
only ask you to keep up the appearance of the thing for a month or
so."
"But, father,"--Jacob began.
"Not a word! Are you not willing to do that much for the sake of
having her all your life, and this farm after me? Suppose it is
covered with a mortgage, if she is all you say, you two can work it
off. Not a word more! It is no lie, after all, that you will tell
her."
"I am afraid," said Jacob, "that she could not leave her home now.
incipient village of six houses. The landlord and hostler were
inspecting a drooping-looking horse in front of the stables. Now,
if there was any thing which Jacob understood, to the extent of his
limited experience, it was horse nature. He drew near, listened to
the views of the two men, examined the animal with his eyes, and
was ready to answer, "Yes, I guess so," when the landlord said,
"Perhaps, sir, you can tell what is the matter with him."
His prompt detection of the ailment, and prescription of a remedy
which in an hour showed its good effects, installed him in the
landlord's best graces. The latter said, "Well, it shall cost you
nothing to-night," as he led the way to the supper-room. When
Jacob went to bed he was surprised on reflecting that he had not
only been talking for a full hour in the bar-room, but had been
looking people in the face.
Resisting an offer of good wages if he would stay and help look
after the stables, he set forward the next morning with a new and
most delightful confidence in himself. The knowledge that now
nobody knew him as "Jake Flint" quite removed his tortured self-
consciousness. When he met a person who was glum and ungracious of
speech, he saw, nevertheless, that he was not its special object.
He was sometimes asked questions, to be sure, which a little
embarrassed him, but he soon hit upon answers which were
sufficiently true without betraying his purpose.
Wandering sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, he
slowly made his way into the land, until, on the afternoon of the
fourth day after leaving home, he found himself in a rougher
region--a rocky, hilly tract, with small and not very flourishing
farms in the valleys. Here the season appeared to be more backward
than in the open country; the hay harvest was not yet over.
Jacob's taste for scenery was not particularly cultivated, but
something in the loneliness and quiet of the farms reminded him of
his own home; and he looked at one house after another,
deliberating with himself whether it would not be a good place to
spend the remainder of his month of probation. He seemed to be
very far from home--about forty miles, in fact,--and was beginning
to feel a little tired of wandering.
Finally the road climbed a low pass of the hills, and dropped into
a valley on the opposite side. There was but one house in view--a
two-story building of logs and plaster, with a garden and orchard
on the hillside in the rear. A large meadow stretched in front,
and when the whole of it lay clear before him, as the road issued
from a wood, his eye was caught by an unusualharvest picture.
Directly before him, a woman, whose face was concealed by a huge,
flapping sun-bonnet, was seated upon a mowing machine, guiding a
span of horses around the great tract of thick grass which was
still uncut. A little distance off, a boy and girl were raking the
drier swaths together, and a hay-cart, drawn by oxen and driven by
a man, was just entering the meadow from the side next the barn.
Jacob hung his bundle upon a stake, threw his coat and waistcoat
over the rail, and, resting his chin on his shirted arms, leaned on
the fence, and watched the hay-makers. As the woman came down the
nearer side she appeared to notice him, for her head was turned
from time to time in his direction. When she had made the round,
she stopped the horses at the corner, spranglightly from her seat
and called to the man, who, leaving his team, met her half-way.
They were nearly a furlong distant, but Jacob was quite sure that
she pointed to him, and that the man looked in the same direction.
Presently she set off across the meadow, directly towards him.
When within a few paces of the fence, she stopped, threw back the
flaps of her sun-bonnet, and said, "Good day to you!" Jacob was
so amazed to see a bright, fresh, girlish face, that he stared at
her with all his eyes, forgetting to drop his head. Indeed, he
could not have done so, for his chin was propped upon the top rail
of the fence.
"You are a stranger, I see," she added.
"Yes, in these parts," he replied.
"Looking for work?"
He hardly knew what answer to make, so he said, at a venture,
"That's as it happens." Then he colored a little, for the words
seemed foolish to his ears.
"Time's precious," said the girl, "so I'll tell you at once we want
help. Our hay MUST be got in while the fine weather lasts."
"I'll help you!" Jacob exclaimed, taking his arms from the rail,
and looking as willing as he felt.
"I'm so glad! But I must tell you, at first, that we're not rich,
and the hands are asking a great deal now. How much do you
expect?"
"Whatever you please?" said he, climbing the fence.
"No, that's not our way of doing business. What do you say to a
dollar a day, and found?"
"All right!" and with the words he was already at her side, taking
long strides over the elastic turf.
"I will go on with my mowing," said she, when they reached the
horses, "and you can rake and load with my father. What name shall
I call you by?"
"Everybody calls me Jake."
"`Jake!' Jacob is better. Well, Jacob, I hope you'll give us all
the help you can."
With a nod and a light laugh she sprang upon the machine. There
was a sweet throb in Jacob's heart, which, if he could have
expressed it, would have been a triumphant shout of "I'm not afraid
of her! I'm not afraid of her!"
The farmer was a kindly, depressed man, with whose quiet ways Jacob
instantly felt himself at home. They worked steadily until sunset,
when the girl, detaching her horses from the machine, mounted one
of them and led the other to the barn. At the supper-table, the
farmer's wife said: "Susan, you must be very tired."
"Not now, mother!" she cheerily answered. "I was, I think, but
after I picked up Jacob I felt sure we should get our hay in."
"It was a good thing," said the farmer; "Jacob don't need to be
told how to work."
Poor Jacob! He was so happy he could have cried. He sat and
listened, and blushed a little, with a smile on his face which it
was a pleasure to see. The honest people did not seem to regard
him in the least as a stranger; they discussed their family
interests and troubles and hopes before him, and in a little while
it seemed as if he had known them always.
How faithfully he worked! How glad and tired he felt when night
came, and the hay-mow was filled, and the great stacks grew beside
the barn! But ah! the haying came to an end, and on the last
evening, at supper, everybody was constrained and silent. Even
Susan looked grave and thoughtful.
"Jacob," said the farmer, finally, "I wish we could keep you until
wheat harvest; but you know we are poor, and can't afford it.
Perhaps you could--"
He hesitated; but Jacob, catching at the chance and obeying his own
unselfish impulse, cried: "Oh, yes, I can; I'll be satisfied with
my board, till the wheat's ripe."
Susan looked at him quickly, with a bright, speaking face.
"It's hardly fair to you," said the farmer.
"But I like to be here so much!" Jacob cried. "I like--all of
you!"
"We DO seem to suit," said the farmer, "like as one family. And
that reminds me, we've not heard your family name yet."
"Flint."
"Jacob FLINT!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, with sudden
agitation.
Jacob was scared and troubled. They had heard of him, he thought,
and who knew what ridiculous stories? Susan noticed an anxiety on
his face which she could not understand, but she unknowingly came
to his relief.
"Why, mother," she asked, "do you know Jacob's family?"
"No, I think not," said her mother, "only somebody of the name,
long ago."
His offer, however, was gratefully accepted. The bright, hot
summer days came and went, but no flower of July ever opened as
rapidly and richly and warmly as his chilled, retarded nature. New
thoughts and instincts came with every morning's sun, and new
conclusions were reached with every evening's twilight. Yet as the
wheat harvest drew towards the end, he felt that he must leave the
place. The month of absence had gone by, he scarce knew how. He
was free to return home, and, though he might offer to bridge over
the gap between wheat and oats, as he had already done between hay
and wheat, he imagined the family might hesitate to accept such an
offer. Moreover, this life at Susan's side was fast growing to be
a pain, unless he could assure himself that it would be so forever.
They were in the wheat-field, busy with the last sheaves; she
raking and he binding. The farmer and younger children had gone to
the barn with a load. Jacob was workingsilently and steadily, but
when they had reached the end of a row, he stopped, wiped his
wet brow, and suddenly said, "Susan, I suppose to-day finishes my
work here."
"Yes," she answered very slowly.
"And yet I'm very sorry to go."
"I--WE don't want you to go, if we could help it."
Jacob appeared to struggle with himself. He attempted to speak.
"If I could--" he brought out, and then paused. "Susan, would you
be glad if I came back?"
His eyes implored her to read his meaning. No doubt she read it
correctly, for her face flushed, her eyelids fell, and she barely
murmured, "Yes, Jacob."
"Then I'll come!" he cried; "I'll come and help you with the oats.
Don't talk of pay! Only tell me I'll be welcome! Susan, don't you
believe I'll keep my word?"
"I do indeed," said she, looking him firmly in the face.
That was all that was said at the time; but the two understood each
other tolerably well.
On the afternoon of the second day, Jacob saw again the lonely
house of his father. His journey was made, yet, if any of the
neighbors had seen him, they would never have believed that he had
come back rich.
Samuel Flint turned away to hide a peculiar smile when he saw his
son; but little was said until late that evening, after Harry and
Sally had left. Then he required and received an exact account of
Jacob's experience during his absence. After hearing the
story to the end, he said, "And so you love this Susan Meadows?"
"I'd--I'd do any thing to be with her."
"Are you afraid of her?"
"No!" Jacob uttered the word so emphatically that it rang through
the house.
"Ah, well!" said the old man, lifting his eyes, and speaking in the
air, "all the harm may be mended yet. But there must be another
test." Then he was silent for some time.
"I have it!" he finally exclaimed. "Jacob, you must go back for
the oats harvest. You must ask Susan to be your wife, and ask her
parents to let you have her. But,--pay attention to my words!--you
must tell her that you are a poor, hired man on this place, and
that she can be engaged as housekeeper. Don't speak of me as your
father, but as the owner of the farm. Bring her here in that
belief, and let me see how honest and willing she is. I can easily
arrange matters with Harry and Sally while you are away; and I'll
only ask you to keep up the appearance of the thing for a month or
so."
"But, father,"--Jacob began.
"Not a word! Are you not willing to do that much for the sake of
having her all your life, and this farm after me? Suppose it is
covered with a mortgage, if she is all you say, you two can work it
off. Not a word more! It is no lie, after all, that you will tell
her."
"I am afraid," said Jacob, "that she could not leave her home now.
- landlord [´lændlɔ:d]
n.地主；房东；店主 (初中英语单词) - extent [ik´stent] n.长度；程度；范围 (初中英语单词)
- delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- nevertheless [,nevəðə´les] conj.&ad.然而；不过 (初中英语单词)
- harvest [´hɑ:vist] n.&v.收获；收割 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- hillside [´hilsaid] n.山腰 (初中英语单词)
- meadow [´medəu] n.草地；牧场 (初中英语单词)
- unusual [ʌn´ju:ʒuəl] a.不平常的；异常的 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- bundle [´bʌndl] n.包，捆；包袱(裹) (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- steadily [´stedili] ad.坚定地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- impulse [´impʌls] n.推动(力)；冲动；刺激 (初中英语单词)
- anxiety [æŋ´zaiəti] n.挂念；渴望；焦虑的事 (初中英语单词)
- gratefully [´greitfuli] ad.感激地 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- absence [´æbsəns] n.不在，缺席；缺乏 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- hesitate [´heziteit] vi.犹豫，踌躇 (初中英语单词)
- moreover [mɔ:´rəuvə] ad.再者，此外，而且 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- silently [´sailəntli] ad.寂静地；沉默地 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- peculiar [pi´kju:liə] a.特有的；奇异的 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- tavern [´tævən] n.小酒馆；客栈 (高中英语单词)
- prompt [prɔmpt] a.敏捷的 vt.促使 (高中英语单词)
- scenery [´si:nəri] n.舞台布景 (高中英语单词)
- loneliness [´ləunliniz] n.孤独，寂寞 (高中英语单词)
- remainder [ri´meində] n.剩余物；残余部分 (高中英语单词)
- plaster [´plɑ:stə] n.灰泥 vt.厚厚地涂抹 (高中英语单词)
- elastic [i´læstik] a.灵活的 n.橡皮带 (高中英语单词)
- faithfully [´feiθfəli] ad.忠实地；诚恳地 (高中英语单词)
- ridiculous [ri´dikjuləs] a.荒谬的；可笑的 (高中英语单词)
- hearing [´hiəriŋ] n.听力；听证会；审讯 (高中英语单词)
- housekeeper [´haus,ki:pə] n.主妇，女管家 (高中英语单词)
- mortgage [´mɔ:gidʒ] a.&vt.抵押 (高中英语单词)
- ailment [´eilmənt] n.疾病；精神不安 (英语四级单词)
- mowing [´məuiŋ] n.割草(谷)；饲料地 (英语四级单词)
- triumphant [trai´ʌmfənt] a.胜利的；洋洋得意的 (英语四级单词)
- cheerily [´tʃiərili] ad. 高兴地；愉快地 (英语四级单词)
- richly [´ritʃli] ad.富裕地；浓厚地 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- binding [´baindiŋ] a.捆绑的 n.捆绑(物) (英语四级单词)
- cultivated [´kʌltiveitid] a.在耕作的；有教养的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- depressed [di´prest] a.消沉的；萧条的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- emphatically [im´fætikəli] ad.强调地；断然地 (英语六级单词)
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