章节正文
With a good deal of curiosity and some misgiving I obeyed. What
was in the wind now? Outside in the hall I found the Story Girl,
with a candle in her hand, and her hat and jacket.
"Where are you going?" I whispered in amazement.
"Hush. I've got to go to the school and you must come with me. I
left my coral necklace there. The clasp came loose and I was so
afraid I'd lose it that I took it off and put it in the bookcase.
I was feeling so upset when the concert was over that I forgot all
about it."
The coral necklace was a very handsome one which had belonged to
the Story Girl's mother. She had never been permitted to wear it
before, and it had only been by dint of much coaxing that she had
induced Aunt Janet to let her wear it to the concert.
"But there's no sense in going for it in the dead of night," I
objected. "It will be quite safe. You can go for it in the
morning."
"Lizzie Paxton and her daughter are going to clean the school
tomorrow, and I heard Lizzie say tonight she meant to be at it by
five o'clock to get through before the heat of the day. You know
perfectly well what Liz Paxton's reputation is. If she finds that
necklace I'll never see it again. Besides, if I wait till the
morning, Aunt Janet may find out that I left it there and she'd
never let me wear it again. No, I'm going for it now. If you're
afraid," added the Story Girl with delicate scorn, "of course you
needn't come."
Afraid! I'd show her!
"Come on," I said.
We slipped out of the house noiselessly and found ourselves in the
unutterable solemnity" target="_blank" title="n.庄严；(隆重的)仪式">solemnity and strangeness of a dark night. It was a
new experience, and our hearts thrilled and our nerves tingled to
the charm of it. Never had we been abroad before at such an hour.
The world around us was not the world of daylight. 'Twas an alien
place, full of weird, evasive enchantment and magicry.
Only in the country can one become truly acquainted with the
night. There it has the solemn calm of the infinite. The dim
wide fields lie in silence, wrapped in the holy mystery of
darkness. A wind, loosened from wild places far away, steals out
to blow over dewy, star-lit, immemorial hills. The air in the
pastures is sweet with the hush of dreams, and one may rest here
like a child on its mother's breast.
"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the Story Girl as we went down the
long hill. "Do you know, I can forgive Sara Ray now. I thought
tonight I never could--but now it doesn't matter any more. I can
even see how funny it was. Oh, wasn't it funny? 'DEAD' in that
squeaky little voice of Sara's! I'll just behave to her tomorrow
as if nothing had happened. It seems so long ago now, here in the
night."
Neither of us ever forgot the subtle delight of that stolen walk.
A spell of glamour was over us. The breezes whispered strange
secrets of elf-haunted glens, and the hollows where the ferns grew
were brimmed with mystery and romance. Ghostlike scents crept out
of the meadows to meet us, and the fir wood before we came to the
church was a living sweetness of Junebells growing in abundance.
Junebells have another and more scientific name, of course. But
who could desire a better name than Junebells? They are so perfect
in their way that they seem to epitomize the very scent and charm
of the forest, as if the old wood's daintiest thoughts had
materialized in blossom; and not all the roses by Bendameer's
stream are as fragrant as a shallow sheet of Junebells under the
boughs of fir.
There were fireflies abroad that night, too, increasing the
gramarye of it. There is certainly something a little
supernatural about fireflies. Nobody pretends to understand them.
They are akin to the tribes of fairy, survivals of the elder time
when the woods and hills swarmed with the little green folk. It
is still very easy to believe in fairies when you see those goblin
lanterns glimmering among the fir tassels.
"Isn't it beautiful?" said the Story Girl in rapture. "I wouldn't
have missed it for anything. I'm glad I left my necklace. And I
am glad you are with me, Bev. The others wouldn't understand so
well. I like you because I don't have to talk to you all the
time. It's so nice to walk with someone you don't have to talk
to. Here is the graveyard. Are you frightened to pass it, Bev?"
"No, I don't think I'm frightened," I answered slowly, "but I have
a queer feeling."
"So have I. But it isn't fear. I don't know what it is. I feel
as if something was reaching out of the graveyard to hold me--
something that wanted life--I don't like it--let's hurry. But
isn't it strange to think of all the dead people in there who were
once alive like you and me. I don't feel as if I could EVER die.
Do you?"
"No, but everybody must. Of course we go on living afterwards,
just the same. Don't let's talk of such things here," I said
hurriedly.
When we reached the school I contrived to open a window. We
scrambled in, lighted a lamp and found the missingnecklace. The
Story Girl stood on the platform and gave an imitation of the
catastrophe of the evening that made me shout with laughter. We
prowled around for sheer delight over being there at an unearthly
hour when everybody supposed we were sound asleep in our beds. It
was with regret that we left, and we walked home as slowly as we
could to prolong the adventure.
"Let's never tell anyone," said the Story Girl, as we reached
home. "Let's just have it as a secret between us for ever and
ever--something that nobody else knows a thing about but you and
me."
"We'd better keep it a secret from Aunt Janet anyhow," I
whispered, laughing. "She'd think we were both crazy."
"It's real jolly to be crazy once in a while," said the Story
Girl.
CHAPTER XX
EXTRACTS FROM OUR MAGAZINE
EDITORIAL
As will be seen there is no Honour Roll in this number. Even
Felicity has thought all the beautiful thoughts that can be
thought and cannot think any more. Peter has never got drunk but,
under existing circumstances, that is not greatly to his credit.
As for our written resolutions they have silently disappeared from
our chamber walls and the place that once knew them knows them no
more for ever. (PETER, PERPLEXEDLY: "Seems to me I've heard
something like that before.") It is very sad but we will all make
some new resolutions next year and maybe it will be easier to keep
those.
THE STORY OF THE LOCKET THAT WAS BAKED
This was a story my Aunt Jane told me about her granma when she
was a little girl. Its funny to think of baking a locket, but it
wasn't to eat. She was my great granma but Ill call her granma
for short. It happened when she was ten years old. Of course she
wasent anybodys granma then. Her father and mother and her were
living in a new settlement called Brinsley. Their nearest naybor
was a mile away. One day her Aunt Hannah from Charlottetown came
and wanted her ma to go visiting with her. At first granma's ma
thought she couldent go because it was baking day and granma's pa
was away. But granma wasent afraid to stay alone and she knew how
to bake the bread so she made her ma go and her Aunt Hannah took
off the handsome gold locket and chain she was waring round her
neck and hung it on granmas and told her she could ware it all
day. Granma was awful pleased for she had never had any jewelry.
She did all the chores and then was needing the loaves when she
looked up and saw a tramp coming in and he was an awful villenus
looking tramp. He dident even pass the time of day but just set
down on a chair. Poor granma was awful fritened and she turned
her back on him and went on needing the loaf cold and trembling--
that is, granma was trembling not the loaf. She was worried about
the locket. She didn't know how she could hide it for to get
anywhere she would have to turn round and pass him.
All of a suddent she thought she would hide it in the bread. She
put her hand up and pulled it hard and quick and broke the
fastening and needed it right into the loaf. Then she put the
loaf in the pan and set it in the oven.
The tramp hadent seen her do it and then he asked for something to
eat. Granma got him up a meal and when hed et it he began
prowling about the kitchen looking into everything and opening the
cubbord doors. Then he went into granma's mas room and turned the
buro drawers and trunk inside out and threw the things in them all
about. All he found was a purse with a dollar in it and he swore
about it and took it and went away. When granma was sure he was
really gone she broke down and cried. She forgot all about the
bread and it burned as black as coal. When she smelled it burning
granma run and pulled it out. She was awful scared the locket was
spoiled but she sawed open the loaf and it was there safe and
sound. When her Aunt Hannah came back she said granma deserved
the locket because she had saved it so clever and she gave it to
her and grandma always wore it and was very proud of it. And
granma used to say that was the only loaf of bread she ever
spoiled in her life.
PETER CRAIG.
(FELICITY: "Those stories are all very well but they are only true
stories. It's easy enough to write true stories. I thought Peter
was appointed fiction editor, but he has never written any fiction
since the paper started. That's not MY idea of a fiction editor.
He ought to make up stories out of his own head." PETER,
SPUNKILY: "I can do it, too, and I will next time. And it ain't
easier to write true stories. It's harder, 'cause you have to
stick to facts." FELICITY: "I don't believe you could make up a
story." PETER: "I'll show you!")
MY MOST EXCITING ADVENTURE
It's my turn to write it but I'm SO NERVOUS. My worst adventure
happened TWO YEARS AGO. It was an awful one. I had a striped
ribbon, striped brown and yellow and I LOST IT. I was very sorry
for it was a handsome ribbon and all the girls in school were
jealous of it. (FELICITY: "I wasn't. I didn't think it one bit
pretty." CECILY: "Hush!") I hunted everywhere but I couldn't find
it. Next day was Sunday and I was running into the house by the
front door and I saw SOMETHING LYING ON THE STEP and I thought it
was my ribbon and I made a grab at it as I passed. But, oh, it
was A SNAKE! Oh, I can never describe how I felt when I felt that
awful thing WRIGGLING IN MY HAND. I let it go and SCREAMED AND
SCREAMED, and ma was cross at me for yelling on Sunday and made me
read seven chapters in the Bible but I didn't mind that much after
what I had come through. I would rather DIE than have SUCH AN
EXPERIENCE again.
SARA RAY.
TO FELICITY ON HER BERTHDAY
Oh maiden fair with golden hair
And brow of purest white,
Id fight for you I'd die for you
Let me be your faithful knite.
This is your berthday blessed day
You are thirteen years old today
May you be happy and fair as you are now
Until your hair is gray.
I gaze into your shining eyes,
They are so blue and bright.
Id fight for you Id die for you
Let me be your faithful knite.
A FRIEND.
(DAN: "Great snakes, who got that up? I'll bet it was Peter."
FELICITY, WITH DIGNITY: "Well, it's more than YOU could do. YOU
couldn't write poetry to save your life." PETER, ASIDE TO
BEVERLEY: "She seems quite pleased. I'm glad I wrote it, but it
was in the wind now? Outside in the hall I found the Story Girl,
with a candle in her hand, and her hat and jacket.
"Where are you going?" I whispered in amazement.
"Hush. I've got to go to the school and you must come with me. I
left my coral necklace there. The clasp came loose and I was so
afraid I'd lose it that I took it off and put it in the bookcase.
I was feeling so upset when the concert was over that I forgot all
about it."
The coral necklace was a very handsome one which had belonged to
the Story Girl's mother. She had never been permitted to wear it
before, and it had only been by dint of much coaxing that she had
induced Aunt Janet to let her wear it to the concert.
"But there's no sense in going for it in the dead of night," I
objected. "It will be quite safe. You can go for it in the
morning."
"Lizzie Paxton and her daughter are going to clean the school
tomorrow, and I heard Lizzie say tonight she meant to be at it by
five o'clock to get through before the heat of the day. You know
perfectly well what Liz Paxton's reputation is. If she finds that
necklace I'll never see it again. Besides, if I wait till the
morning, Aunt Janet may find out that I left it there and she'd
never let me wear it again. No, I'm going for it now. If you're
afraid," added the Story Girl with delicate scorn, "of course you
needn't come."
Afraid! I'd show her!
"Come on," I said.
We slipped out of the house noiselessly and found ourselves in the
unutterable solemnity" target="_blank" title="n.庄严；(隆重的)仪式">solemnity and strangeness of a dark night. It was a
new experience, and our hearts thrilled and our nerves tingled to
the charm of it. Never had we been abroad before at such an hour.
The world around us was not the world of daylight. 'Twas an alien
place, full of weird, evasive enchantment and magicry.
Only in the country can one become truly acquainted with the
night. There it has the solemn calm of the infinite. The dim
wide fields lie in silence, wrapped in the holy mystery of
darkness. A wind, loosened from wild places far away, steals out
to blow over dewy, star-lit, immemorial hills. The air in the
pastures is sweet with the hush of dreams, and one may rest here
like a child on its mother's breast.
"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the Story Girl as we went down the
long hill. "Do you know, I can forgive Sara Ray now. I thought
tonight I never could--but now it doesn't matter any more. I can
even see how funny it was. Oh, wasn't it funny? 'DEAD' in that
squeaky little voice of Sara's! I'll just behave to her tomorrow
as if nothing had happened. It seems so long ago now, here in the
night."
Neither of us ever forgot the subtle delight of that stolen walk.
A spell of glamour was over us. The breezes whispered strange
secrets of elf-haunted glens, and the hollows where the ferns grew
were brimmed with mystery and romance. Ghostlike scents crept out
of the meadows to meet us, and the fir wood before we came to the
church was a living sweetness of Junebells growing in abundance.
Junebells have another and more scientific name, of course. But
who could desire a better name than Junebells? They are so perfect
in their way that they seem to epitomize the very scent and charm
of the forest, as if the old wood's daintiest thoughts had
materialized in blossom; and not all the roses by Bendameer's
stream are as fragrant as a shallow sheet of Junebells under the
boughs of fir.
There were fireflies abroad that night, too, increasing the
gramarye of it. There is certainly something a little
supernatural about fireflies. Nobody pretends to understand them.
They are akin to the tribes of fairy, survivals of the elder time
when the woods and hills swarmed with the little green folk. It
is still very easy to believe in fairies when you see those goblin
lanterns glimmering among the fir tassels.
"Isn't it beautiful?" said the Story Girl in rapture. "I wouldn't
have missed it for anything. I'm glad I left my necklace. And I
am glad you are with me, Bev. The others wouldn't understand so
well. I like you because I don't have to talk to you all the
time. It's so nice to walk with someone you don't have to talk
to. Here is the graveyard. Are you frightened to pass it, Bev?"
"No, I don't think I'm frightened," I answered slowly, "but I have
a queer feeling."
"So have I. But it isn't fear. I don't know what it is. I feel
as if something was reaching out of the graveyard to hold me--
something that wanted life--I don't like it--let's hurry. But
isn't it strange to think of all the dead people in there who were
once alive like you and me. I don't feel as if I could EVER die.
Do you?"
"No, but everybody must. Of course we go on living afterwards,
just the same. Don't let's talk of such things here," I said
hurriedly.
When we reached the school I contrived to open a window. We
scrambled in, lighted a lamp and found the missingnecklace. The
Story Girl stood on the platform and gave an imitation of the
catastrophe of the evening that made me shout with laughter. We
prowled around for sheer delight over being there at an unearthly
hour when everybody supposed we were sound asleep in our beds. It
was with regret that we left, and we walked home as slowly as we
could to prolong the adventure.
"Let's never tell anyone," said the Story Girl, as we reached
home. "Let's just have it as a secret between us for ever and
ever--something that nobody else knows a thing about but you and
me."
"We'd better keep it a secret from Aunt Janet anyhow," I
whispered, laughing. "She'd think we were both crazy."
"It's real jolly to be crazy once in a while," said the Story
Girl.
CHAPTER XX
EXTRACTS FROM OUR MAGAZINE
EDITORIAL
As will be seen there is no Honour Roll in this number. Even
Felicity has thought all the beautiful thoughts that can be
thought and cannot think any more. Peter has never got drunk but,
under existing circumstances, that is not greatly to his credit.
As for our written resolutions they have silently disappeared from
our chamber walls and the place that once knew them knows them no
more for ever. (PETER, PERPLEXEDLY: "Seems to me I've heard
something like that before.") It is very sad but we will all make
some new resolutions next year and maybe it will be easier to keep
those.
THE STORY OF THE LOCKET THAT WAS BAKED
This was a story my Aunt Jane told me about her granma when she
was a little girl. Its funny to think of baking a locket, but it
wasn't to eat. She was my great granma but Ill call her granma
for short. It happened when she was ten years old. Of course she
wasent anybodys granma then. Her father and mother and her were
living in a new settlement called Brinsley. Their nearest naybor
was a mile away. One day her Aunt Hannah from Charlottetown came
and wanted her ma to go visiting with her. At first granma's ma
thought she couldent go because it was baking day and granma's pa
was away. But granma wasent afraid to stay alone and she knew how
to bake the bread so she made her ma go and her Aunt Hannah took
off the handsome gold locket and chain she was waring round her
neck and hung it on granmas and told her she could ware it all
day. Granma was awful pleased for she had never had any jewelry.
She did all the chores and then was needing the loaves when she
looked up and saw a tramp coming in and he was an awful villenus
looking tramp. He dident even pass the time of day but just set
down on a chair. Poor granma was awful fritened and she turned
her back on him and went on needing the loaf cold and trembling--
that is, granma was trembling not the loaf. She was worried about
the locket. She didn't know how she could hide it for to get
anywhere she would have to turn round and pass him.
All of a suddent she thought she would hide it in the bread. She
put her hand up and pulled it hard and quick and broke the
fastening and needed it right into the loaf. Then she put the
loaf in the pan and set it in the oven.
The tramp hadent seen her do it and then he asked for something to
eat. Granma got him up a meal and when hed et it he began
prowling about the kitchen looking into everything and opening the
cubbord doors. Then he went into granma's mas room and turned the
buro drawers and trunk inside out and threw the things in them all
about. All he found was a purse with a dollar in it and he swore
about it and took it and went away. When granma was sure he was
really gone she broke down and cried. She forgot all about the
bread and it burned as black as coal. When she smelled it burning
granma run and pulled it out. She was awful scared the locket was
spoiled but she sawed open the loaf and it was there safe and
sound. When her Aunt Hannah came back she said granma deserved
the locket because she had saved it so clever and she gave it to
her and grandma always wore it and was very proud of it. And
granma used to say that was the only loaf of bread she ever
spoiled in her life.
PETER CRAIG.
(FELICITY: "Those stories are all very well but they are only true
stories. It's easy enough to write true stories. I thought Peter
was appointed fiction editor, but he has never written any fiction
since the paper started. That's not MY idea of a fiction editor.
He ought to make up stories out of his own head." PETER,
SPUNKILY: "I can do it, too, and I will next time. And it ain't
easier to write true stories. It's harder, 'cause you have to
stick to facts." FELICITY: "I don't believe you could make up a
story." PETER: "I'll show you!")
MY MOST EXCITING ADVENTURE
It's my turn to write it but I'm SO NERVOUS. My worst adventure
happened TWO YEARS AGO. It was an awful one. I had a striped
ribbon, striped brown and yellow and I LOST IT. I was very sorry
for it was a handsome ribbon and all the girls in school were
jealous of it. (FELICITY: "I wasn't. I didn't think it one bit
pretty." CECILY: "Hush!") I hunted everywhere but I couldn't find
it. Next day was Sunday and I was running into the house by the
front door and I saw SOMETHING LYING ON THE STEP and I thought it
was my ribbon and I made a grab at it as I passed. But, oh, it
was A SNAKE! Oh, I can never describe how I felt when I felt that
awful thing WRIGGLING IN MY HAND. I let it go and SCREAMED AND
SCREAMED, and ma was cross at me for yelling on Sunday and made me
read seven chapters in the Bible but I didn't mind that much after
what I had come through. I would rather DIE than have SUCH AN
EXPERIENCE again.
SARA RAY.
TO FELICITY ON HER BERTHDAY
Oh maiden fair with golden hair
And brow of purest white,
Id fight for you I'd die for you
Let me be your faithful knite.
This is your berthday blessed day
You are thirteen years old today
May you be happy and fair as you are now
Until your hair is gray.
I gaze into your shining eyes,
They are so blue and bright.
Id fight for you Id die for you
Let me be your faithful knite.
A FRIEND.
(DAN: "Great snakes, who got that up? I'll bet it was Peter."
FELICITY, WITH DIGNITY: "Well, it's more than YOU could do. YOU
couldn't write poetry to save your life." PETER, ASIDE TO
BEVERLEY: "She seems quite pleased. I'm glad I wrote it, but it
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti]
n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词) - delicate [´delikət] a.精美的；微妙的 (初中英语单词)
- abroad [ə´brɔ:d] ad.海外；到处；广泛 (初中英语单词)
- daylight [´deilait] n.日光；黎明 (初中英语单词)
- solemn [´sɔləm] a.严肃的；隆重的 (初中英语单词)
- mystery [´mistəri] n.神秘；秘密；故弄玄虚 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- behave [bi´heiv] v.举止；表现；举止端正 (初中英语单词)
- stolen [´stəulən] steal 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- romance [rəu´mæns] n.中世纪骑士小说 (初中英语单词)
- scientific [,saiən´tifik] a.科学(上)的 (初中英语单词)
- blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- missing [´misiŋ] a.缺掉的；失踪的 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- silently [´sailəntli] ad.寂静地；沉默地 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- nervous [´nə:vəs] a.神经的；神经过敏的 (初中英语单词)
- ribbon [´ribən] n.缎带；带子；色带 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- maiden [´meidn] n.少女 a.未婚的 (初中英语单词)
- faithful [´feiθfəl] a.忠实的；可靠的 (初中英语单词)
- dignity [´digniti] n.尊严，尊贵；高官显贵 (初中英语单词)
- poetry [´pəuitri] n.诗；诗意 (初中英语单词)
- infinite [´infinit] a.无限的，无穷的 (高中英语单词)
- sweetness [´swi:tnis] n.甜蜜；芳香；亲切 (高中英语单词)
- fragrant [´freigrənt] a.芳香的，芬芳的 (高中英语单词)
- rapture [´ræptʃə] n.着迷；全神贯注 (高中英语单词)
- imitation [,imi´teiʃən] n.模仿；仿制品；赝品 (高中英语单词)
- prolong [prə´lɔŋ] vt.延长；拉长；拖延 (高中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- baking [´beikiŋ] n.&a.烘烤(的) (高中英语单词)
- grandma [´grænmɑ:] n.奶奶；外婆 (高中英语单词)
- fiction [´fikʃən] n.小说；虚构；谎言 (高中英语单词)
- necklace [´neklis] n.项链 (英语四级单词)
- reputation [repju´teiʃən] n.名誉；名声；信誉 (英语四级单词)
- noiselessly [´nɔizlisli] ad.静静地，轻轻地 (英语四级单词)
- enchantment [in´tʃɑ:ntmənt] n.迷惑；妖术；魅力 (英语四级单词)
- striped [´straipt] a.有条纹的 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- misgiving [mis´giviŋ] n.疑虑，忧虑 (英语六级单词)
- solemnity [sə´lemniti] n.庄严；(隆重的)仪式 (英语六级单词)
- immemorial [,imi´mɔ:riəl] a.太古的，极古的 (英语六级单词)
- felicity [fi´lisiti] n.幸福；(措词)适当 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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