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Whirligigs-Part25_O.Henry(1862-1910)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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drunken wretch, a miserable, degraded spendthrift and

gambler -- "



He lurched from the table into his armchair, and

began to weep maudlin tears, mingled with genuine drops



of remorse and shame. Coltrane talked to him persist-

ently and reasonably, reminding him of the simple moun-



tain pleasures of which he had once been so fond, and

insisting upon the genuineness of the invitation.



Finally he landed Goree by telling him he was counting

upon his help in the engineering and transportation of a



large amount of felled timber from a high mountain-side

to a waterway. He knew that Goree had once invented



a device for this purpose -- a series of slides and chutes-

upon which he had justly prided himself. In an instant



the poor fellow, delighted at the idea of his being of use

to any one, had paper spread upon the table, and was



drawing rapid but pitifully shaky lines in demonstration

of what he could and would do.



The man was sickened of the husks; his prodigal heart

was turning again toward the mountains. His mind was



yet strangely clogged, and his thoughts and memories

were returning to his brain one by one, like carrier pigeons



over a stormy sea. But Coltrane was satisfied with the

progress he had made.



Bethel received the surprise of its existence that after-

noon when a Coltrane and a Goree rode amicably together



through the town. Side by side they rode, out from the

dusty streets and gaping townspeople, down across the



creek bridge, and up toward the mountain. The prodigal

had brushed and washed and combed himself to a more



decent figure, but he was unsteady in the saddle, and he

seemed to be deep in the contemplation of some vexing



problem. Coltrane left him in his mood, relying upon the

influence of changed surroundings to restore his



equilibrium.

Once Goree was seized with a shaking fit, and almost



came to a collapse. He had to dismount and rest at the

side of the road. The colonel, foreseeing such a con-



dition, had provided a small flask of whisky for the journey

but when it was offered to him Goree refused it almost



with violence, declaring he would never touch it again.

By and by he was recovered, and went quietly enough



for a mile or two. Then he pulled up his horse suddenly,

and said:



"I lost two hundred dollars last night, playing poker.

Now, where did I get that money?"



"Take it easy, Yancev. The mountain air will soon

clear it up. We'll go fishing, first thing, at the Pinnacle



Falls. The trout are jumping there like bullfrogs. We'll

take Stella and Lucy along, and have a picnic on Eagle



Rock. Have you forgotten how a hickory-cured-ham

sandwich tastes, Yancey, to a hungry fisherman?"



Evidently the colonel did not believe the story of his

lost wealth; so Goree retired again into brooding silence.



By late Afternoon they had travelled ten of the twelve

miles between Bethel and Laurel. Half a mile this side



of Laurel lay the old Goree place; a mile or two beyond

the village lived the Coltranes. The road was now steep



and laborious, but the compensations were many. The

tilted aisles of the forest were opulent with leaf and bird



and bloom. The tonic air put to shame the pharma-

cop锟絠a. The glades were dark with mossy shade, and



bright with shy rivulets winking from the ferns and

laurels. On the lower side they viewed, framed in the



near foilage, exquisite sketches of the far valley swooning

in its opal haze.



Coltrane was pleased to see that his companion was

yielding to the spell of the hills and woods. For now



they had but to skirt the base of Painter's Cliff; to cross

Elder Branch and mount the hill beyond, and Goree



would have to face the squandered home of his fathers.

Every rock he passed, every tree, every foot of the rocky



way, was familiar to him. Though he hid forgotten the

woods, they thrilled him like the music of "Home, Sweet



Home."

They rounded the cliff, decended into Elder Branch,






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