酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

The Story of a Pioneer-Part30_Anna Howard Shaw(1847-1919)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
They had not seen the episode of the feet, and they

thought Miss Anthony was complaining of the child's



crying. Their children were crying, too, and they

felt that they had all been criticized. Other women



rose and followed the irate mother, and many men

gallantly followed them. It seemed clear that



motherhood had been outraged.

Miss Anthony was greatly depressed by the epi-



sode, and she was not comforted by a prediction one

man made after the meeting.



``You've lost at least twenty votes by that little

affair,'' he told her.



``Aunt Susan'' sighed. ``Well,'' she said, ``if those

men knew how my ankles felt I would have won



twenty votes by enduring the torture as long as I did.''

The next day we had a second meeting. Miss



Anthony made her speech early in the evening, and

by the time it was my turn to begin all the children



in the audience--and there were many--were both

tired and sleepy. At least half a dozen of them



were crying, and I had to shout to make my voice

heard above their uproar. Miss Anthony remarked



afterward that there seemed to be a contest between

me and the infants to see which of us could make



more noise. The audience was plainly getting rest-

less under the combined effect, and finally a man in



the rear rose and added his voice to the tumult.

``Say, Miss Shaw,'' he yelled, ``don't you want



these children put out?''

It was our chance to remove the sad impression



of yesterday, and I grasped it.

``No, indeed,'' I yelled back. ``Nothing inspires



me like the voice of a child!''

A handsome round of applause from mothers and



fathers greeted this noble declaration, after which

the blessed babies and I resumed our joint vocal



efforts. When the speech was finished and we were

alone together, Miss Anthony put her arm around



my shoulder and drew me to her side.

``Well, Anna,'' she said, gratefully, ``you've cer-



tainly evened us up on motherhood this time.''

That South Dakota campaign was one of the



most difficult we ever made. It extended over nine

months; and it is impossible to describe the poverty



which prevailed throughout the whole rural com-

munity of the State. There had been three con-



secutive years of drought. The sand was like pow-

der, so deep that the wheels of the wagons in which



we rode ``across country'' sank half-way to the

hubs; and in the midst of this dry powder lay with-



ered tangles that had once been grass. Every one

had the forsaken, desperate look worn by the pioneer



who has reached the limit of his endurance, and the

great stretches of prairie roads showed innumerable



canvas-covered wagons, drawn by starved horses,

and followed by starved cows, on their way ``Back



East.'' Our talks with the despairing drivers of

these wagons are among my most tragic memories.



They had lost everything except what they had with

them, and they were going East to leave ``the wom-



an'' with her father and try to find work. Usually,

with a look of disgust at his wife, the man would



say: ``I wanted to leave two years ago, but the

woman kept saying, `Hold on a little longer.' ''



Both Miss Anthony and I gloried in the spirit of

these pioneer women, and lost no opportunity to



tell them so; for we realized what our nation owes

to the patience and courage of such as they were.



We often asked them what was the hardest thing to

bear in their pioneer life, and we usually received



the same reply:

``To sit in our little adobe or sod houses at night



and listen to the wolves howl over the graves of our

babies. For the howl of the wolf is like the cry of



a child from the grave.''




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号