章节正文
edge up the steep hillside beyond the house and road. I could hear
the tinkle-tankle of a cow-bell somewhere among the spruces by
which the pasture was being walked over and forested from every
side; it was likely to be called the wood lot before long, but the
field was unmolested. I could not see a bush or a brier anywhere
within its walls, and hardly a stray pebble showed itself. This
was most surprising in that country of firm ledges, and scattered
stones which all the walls that industry could devise had hardly
begun to clear away off the land. In the narrow field I noticed
some stout stakes, apparently planted at random in the grass and
among the hills of potatoes, but carefully painted yellow and white
to match the house, a neat sharp-edged little dwelling, which
looked strangely modern for its owner. I should have much
sooner believed that the smart young wholesale egg merchant of the
Landing was its occupant than Mr. Tilley, since a man's house is
really but his larger body, and expresses in a way his nature and
character.
I went up the field, following the smooth little path to the
side door. As for using the front door, that was a matter of great
ceremony; the long grass grew close against the high stone step,
and a snowberry bush leaned over it, top-heavy with the weight of
a morning-glory vine that had managed to take what the fishermen
might call a half hitch about the door-knob. Elijah Tilley came to
the side door to receive me; he was knitting a blue yarn stocking
without looking on, and was warmly dressed for the season in a
thick blue flannel shirt with white crockery buttons, a faded
waistcoat and trousers heavily patched at the knees. These were
not his fishing clothes. There was something delightful in the
grasp of his hand, warm and clean, as if it never touched anything
but the comfortable woolen yarn, instead of cold sea water and
slippery fish.
"What are the painted stakes for, down in the field?" I
hastened to ask, and he came out a step or two along the path to
see; and looked at the stakes as if his attention were called to
them for the first time.
"Folks laughed at me when I first bought this place an' come
here to live," he explained. "They said 'twa'n't no kind of a
field privilege at all; no place to raise anything, all full o'
stones. I was aware 'twas good land, an' I worked some on it--odd
times when I didn't have nothin' else on hand--till I cleared them
loose stones all out. You never see a prettier piece than 'tis
now; now did ye? Well, as for them painted marks, them's my buoys.
I struck on to some heavy rocks that didn't show none, but a plow'd
be liable to ground on 'em, an' so I ketched holt an' buoyed 'em
same's you see. They don't trouble me no more'n if they wa'n't
there."
"You haven't been to sea for nothing," I said laughing.
"One trade helps another," said Elijah with an amiable smile.
"Come right in an' set down. Come in an' rest ye," he exclaimed,
and led the way into his comfortable kitchen. The sunshine poured
in at the two further windows, and a cat was curled up sound asleep
on the table that stood between them. There was a new-looking
light oilcloth of a tiled pattern on the floor, and a crockery
teapot, large for a household of only one person, stood on the
bright stove. I ventured to say that somebody must be a very good
housekeeper.
"That's me," acknowledged the old fisherman with frankness.
"There ain't nobody here but me. I try to keep things looking
right, same's poor dear left 'em. You set down here in this chair,
then you can look off an' see the water. None on 'em
thought I was goin' to get along alone, no way, but I wa'n't goin'
to have my house turned upsi' down an' all changed about; no, not
to please nobody. I was the only one knew just how she liked to
have things set, poor dear, an' I said I was goin' to make shift,
and I have made shift. I'd rather tough it out alone." And he
sighed heavily, as if to sigh were his familiar consolation.
We were both silent for a minute; the old man looked out the
window, as if he had forgotten I was there.
"You must miss her very much?" I said at last.
"I do miss her," he answered, and sighed again. "Folks all
kep' repeatin' that time would ease me, but I can't find it does.
No, I miss her just the same every day."
"How long is it since she died?" I asked.
"Eight year now, come the first of October. It don't seem
near so long. I've got a sister that comes and stops 'long o' me
a little spell, spring an' fall, an' odd times if I send after her.
I ain't near so good a hand to sew as I be to knit, and she's very
quick to set everything to rights. She's a married woman with a
family; her son's folks lives at home, an' I can't make no great
claim on her time. But it makes me a kind o' good excuse, when I
do send, to help her a little; she ain't none too well off. Poor
dear always liked her, and we used to contrive our ways together.
'Tis full as easy to be alone. I set here an' think it all over,
an' think considerable when the weather's bad to go outside. I get
so some days it feels as if poor dear might step right back into
this kitchen. I keep a-watchin' them doors as if she might step in
to ary one. Yes, ma'am, I keep a-lookin' off an' droppin' o' my
stitches; that's just how it seems. I can't git over losin' of her
no way nor no how. Yes, ma'am, that's just how it seems to me."
I did not say anything, and he did not look up.
"I git feelin' so sometimes I have to lay everything by an' go
out door. She was a sweet pretty creatur' long's she lived," the
old man added mournfully. "There's that little rockin' chair o'
her'n, I set an' notice it an' think how strange 'tis a creatur'
like her should be gone an' that chair be here right in its old
place."
"I wish I had known her; Mrs. Todd told me about your wife one
day," I said.
"You'd have liked to come and see her; all the folks did,"
said poor Elijah. "She'd been so pleased to hear everything and
see somebody new that took such an int'rest. She had a kind o'
gift to make it pleasant for folks. I guess likely Almiry Todd
told you she was a pretty woman, especially in her young days; late
years, too, she kep' her looks and come to be so pleasant
lookin'. There, 'tain't so much matter, I shall be done afore a
great while. No; I sha'n't trouble the fish a great sight more."
The old widower sat with his head bowed over his knitting, as
if he were hastilyshortening the very thread of time. The minutes
went slowly by. He stopped his work and clasped his hands firmly
together. I saw he had forgotten his guest, and I kept the
afternoon watch with him. At last he looked up as if but a moment
had passed of his continual loneliness.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm one that has seen trouble," he said, and
began to knit again.
The visibletribute of his careful housekeeping, and the clean
bright room which had once enshrined his wife, and now enshrined
her memory, was very moving to me; he had no thought for any one
else or for any other place. I began to see her myself in her
home,--a delicate-looking, faded little woman, who leaned upon his
rough strength and affectionate heart, who was always watching for
his boat out of this very window, and who always opened the door
and welcomed him when he came home.
"I used to laugh at her, poor dear," said Elijah, as if he
read my thought. "I used to make light of her timid notions. She
used to be fearful when I was out in bad weather or baffled about
gittin' ashore. She used to say the time seemed long to her, but
I've found out all about it now. I used to be dreadful thoughtless
when I was a young man and the fish was bitin' well. I'd stay out
late some o' them days, an' I expect she'd watch an' watch an' lose
heart a-waitin'. My heart alive! what a supper she'd git, an' be
right there watchin' from the door, with somethin' over her head if
'twas cold, waitin' to hear all about it as I come up the field.
Lord, how I think o' all them little things!"
"This was what she called the best room; in this way," he said
presently, laying his knitting on the table, and leading the way
across the front entry and unlocking a door, which he threw open
with an air of pride. The best room seemed to me a much sadder and
more empty place than the kitchen; its conventionalities lacked the
simple perfection of the humbler room and failed on the side of
poor ambition; it was only when one remembered what patient saving,
and what high respect for society in the abstract go to such
furnishing that the little parlor was interesting at all. I could
imagine the great day of certain purchases, the bewildering shops
of the next large town, the aspiring anxious woman, the clumsy sea-
tanned man in his best clothes, so eager to be pleased, but at ease
only when they were safe back in the sailboat again, going down the
bay with their precious freight, the hoarded money all spent and
nothing to think of but tiller and sail. I looked at the unworn
carpet, the glass vases on the mantelpiece with their prim
bunches of bleached swamp grass and dusty marsh rosemary, and I
could read the history of Mrs. Tilley's best room from its very
beginning.
"You see for yourself what beautiful rugs she could make; now
I'm going to show you her best tea things she thought so much of,"
said the master of the house, opening the door of a shallow
cupboard. "That's real chiny, all of it on those two shelves," he
told me proudly. "I bought it all myself, when we was first
married, in the port of Bordeaux. There never was one single piece
of it broke until-- Well, I used to say, long as she lived, there
never was a piece broke, but long at the last I noticed she'd look
kind o' distressed, an' I thought 'twas 'count o' me boastin'.
When they asked if they should use it when the folks was here to
supper, time o' her funeral, I knew she'd want to have everything
nice, and I said 'certain.' Some o' the women they come runnin' to
me an' called me, while they was takin' of the chiny down, an'
showed me there was one o' the cups broke an' the pieces wropped in
paper and pushed way back here, corner o' the shelf. They didn't
want me to go an' think they done it. Poor dear! I had to put
right out o' the house when I see that. I knowed in one minute how
'twas. We'd got so used to sayin' 'twas all there just's I fetched
it home, an' so when she broke that cup somehow or 'nother she
couldn't frame no words to come an' tell me. She couldn't think
'twould vex me, 'twas her own hurt pride. I guess there wa'n't no
other secret ever lay between us."
The French cups with their gay sprigs of pink and blue, the
best tumblers, an old flowered bowl and tea caddy, and a japanned
waiter or two adorned the shelves. These, with a few
daguerreotypes in a little square pile, had the closet to
themselves, and I was conscious of much pleasure in seeing them.
One is shown over many a house in these days where the interest may
be more complex, but not more definite.
"Those were her best things, poor dear," said Elijah as he
locked the door again. "She told me that last summer before she
was taken away that she couldn't think o' anything more she wanted,
there was everything in the house, an' all her rooms was furnished
pretty. I was goin' over to the Port, an' inquired for errands.
I used to ask her to say what she wanted, cost or no cost--she was
a very reasonable woman, an' 'twas the place where she done all but
her extra shopping. It kind o' chilled me up when she spoke so
satisfied."
"You don't go out fishing after Christmas?" I asked, as we
came back to the bright kitchen.
"No; I take stiddy to my knitting after January sets in," said
the old seafarer. "'Tain't worth while, fish make off into deeper
water an' you can't stand no such perishin' for the sake o'
what you get. I leave out a few traps in sheltered coves an' do a
little lobsterin' on fair days. The young fellows braves it out,
some on 'em; but, for me, I lay in my winter's yarn an' set here
where 'tis warm, an' knit an' take my comfort. Mother learnt me
once when I was a lad; she was a beautiful knitter herself. I was
laid up with a bad knee, an' she said 'twould take up my time an'
the tinkle-tankle of a cow-bell somewhere among the spruces by
which the pasture was being walked over and forested from every
side; it was likely to be called the wood lot before long, but the
field was unmolested. I could not see a bush or a brier anywhere
within its walls, and hardly a stray pebble showed itself. This
was most surprising in that country of firm ledges, and scattered
stones which all the walls that industry could devise had hardly
begun to clear away off the land. In the narrow field I noticed
some stout stakes, apparently planted at random in the grass and
among the hills of potatoes, but carefully painted yellow and white
to match the house, a neat sharp-edged little dwelling, which
looked strangely modern for its owner. I should have much
sooner believed that the smart young wholesale egg merchant of the
Landing was its occupant than Mr. Tilley, since a man's house is
really but his larger body, and expresses in a way his nature and
character.
I went up the field, following the smooth little path to the
side door. As for using the front door, that was a matter of great
ceremony; the long grass grew close against the high stone step,
and a snowberry bush leaned over it, top-heavy with the weight of
a morning-glory vine that had managed to take what the fishermen
might call a half hitch about the door-knob. Elijah Tilley came to
the side door to receive me; he was knitting a blue yarn stocking
without looking on, and was warmly dressed for the season in a
thick blue flannel shirt with white crockery buttons, a faded
waistcoat and trousers heavily patched at the knees. These were
not his fishing clothes. There was something delightful in the
grasp of his hand, warm and clean, as if it never touched anything
but the comfortable woolen yarn, instead of cold sea water and
slippery fish.
"What are the painted stakes for, down in the field?" I
hastened to ask, and he came out a step or two along the path to
see; and looked at the stakes as if his attention were called to
them for the first time.
"Folks laughed at me when I first bought this place an' come
here to live," he explained. "They said 'twa'n't no kind of a
field privilege at all; no place to raise anything, all full o'
stones. I was aware 'twas good land, an' I worked some on it--odd
times when I didn't have nothin' else on hand--till I cleared them
loose stones all out. You never see a prettier piece than 'tis
now; now did ye? Well, as for them painted marks, them's my buoys.
I struck on to some heavy rocks that didn't show none, but a plow'd
be liable to ground on 'em, an' so I ketched holt an' buoyed 'em
same's you see. They don't trouble me no more'n if they wa'n't
there."
"You haven't been to sea for nothing," I said laughing.
"One trade helps another," said Elijah with an amiable smile.
"Come right in an' set down. Come in an' rest ye," he exclaimed,
and led the way into his comfortable kitchen. The sunshine poured
in at the two further windows, and a cat was curled up sound asleep
on the table that stood between them. There was a new-looking
light oilcloth of a tiled pattern on the floor, and a crockery
teapot, large for a household of only one person, stood on the
bright stove. I ventured to say that somebody must be a very good
housekeeper.
"That's me," acknowledged the old fisherman with frankness.
"There ain't nobody here but me. I try to keep things looking
right, same's poor dear left 'em. You set down here in this chair,
then you can look off an' see the water. None on 'em
thought I was goin' to get along alone, no way, but I wa'n't goin'
to have my house turned upsi' down an' all changed about; no, not
to please nobody. I was the only one knew just how she liked to
have things set, poor dear, an' I said I was goin' to make shift,
and I have made shift. I'd rather tough it out alone." And he
sighed heavily, as if to sigh were his familiar consolation.
We were both silent for a minute; the old man looked out the
window, as if he had forgotten I was there.
"You must miss her very much?" I said at last.
"I do miss her," he answered, and sighed again. "Folks all
kep' repeatin' that time would ease me, but I can't find it does.
No, I miss her just the same every day."
"How long is it since she died?" I asked.
"Eight year now, come the first of October. It don't seem
near so long. I've got a sister that comes and stops 'long o' me
a little spell, spring an' fall, an' odd times if I send after her.
I ain't near so good a hand to sew as I be to knit, and she's very
quick to set everything to rights. She's a married woman with a
family; her son's folks lives at home, an' I can't make no great
claim on her time. But it makes me a kind o' good excuse, when I
do send, to help her a little; she ain't none too well off. Poor
dear always liked her, and we used to contrive our ways together.
'Tis full as easy to be alone. I set here an' think it all over,
an' think considerable when the weather's bad to go outside. I get
so some days it feels as if poor dear might step right back into
this kitchen. I keep a-watchin' them doors as if she might step in
to ary one. Yes, ma'am, I keep a-lookin' off an' droppin' o' my
stitches; that's just how it seems. I can't git over losin' of her
no way nor no how. Yes, ma'am, that's just how it seems to me."
I did not say anything, and he did not look up.
"I git feelin' so sometimes I have to lay everything by an' go
out door. She was a sweet pretty creatur' long's she lived," the
old man added mournfully. "There's that little rockin' chair o'
her'n, I set an' notice it an' think how strange 'tis a creatur'
like her should be gone an' that chair be here right in its old
place."
"I wish I had known her; Mrs. Todd told me about your wife one
day," I said.
"You'd have liked to come and see her; all the folks did,"
said poor Elijah. "She'd been so pleased to hear everything and
see somebody new that took such an int'rest. She had a kind o'
gift to make it pleasant for folks. I guess likely Almiry Todd
told you she was a pretty woman, especially in her young days; late
years, too, she kep' her looks and come to be so pleasant
lookin'. There, 'tain't so much matter, I shall be done afore a
great while. No; I sha'n't trouble the fish a great sight more."
The old widower sat with his head bowed over his knitting, as
if he were hastilyshortening the very thread of time. The minutes
went slowly by. He stopped his work and clasped his hands firmly
together. I saw he had forgotten his guest, and I kept the
afternoon watch with him. At last he looked up as if but a moment
had passed of his continual loneliness.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm one that has seen trouble," he said, and
began to knit again.
The visibletribute of his careful housekeeping, and the clean
bright room which had once enshrined his wife, and now enshrined
her memory, was very moving to me; he had no thought for any one
else or for any other place. I began to see her myself in her
home,--a delicate-looking, faded little woman, who leaned upon his
rough strength and affectionate heart, who was always watching for
his boat out of this very window, and who always opened the door
and welcomed him when he came home.
"I used to laugh at her, poor dear," said Elijah, as if he
read my thought. "I used to make light of her timid notions. She
used to be fearful when I was out in bad weather or baffled about
gittin' ashore. She used to say the time seemed long to her, but
I've found out all about it now. I used to be dreadful thoughtless
when I was a young man and the fish was bitin' well. I'd stay out
late some o' them days, an' I expect she'd watch an' watch an' lose
heart a-waitin'. My heart alive! what a supper she'd git, an' be
right there watchin' from the door, with somethin' over her head if
'twas cold, waitin' to hear all about it as I come up the field.
Lord, how I think o' all them little things!"
"This was what she called the best room; in this way," he said
presently, laying his knitting on the table, and leading the way
across the front entry and unlocking a door, which he threw open
with an air of pride. The best room seemed to me a much sadder and
more empty place than the kitchen; its conventionalities lacked the
simple perfection of the humbler room and failed on the side of
poor ambition; it was only when one remembered what patient saving,
and what high respect for society in the abstract go to such
furnishing that the little parlor was interesting at all. I could
imagine the great day of certain purchases, the bewildering shops
of the next large town, the aspiring anxious woman, the clumsy sea-
tanned man in his best clothes, so eager to be pleased, but at ease
only when they were safe back in the sailboat again, going down the
bay with their precious freight, the hoarded money all spent and
nothing to think of but tiller and sail. I looked at the unworn
carpet, the glass vases on the mantelpiece with their prim
bunches of bleached swamp grass and dusty marsh rosemary, and I
could read the history of Mrs. Tilley's best room from its very
beginning.
"You see for yourself what beautiful rugs she could make; now
I'm going to show you her best tea things she thought so much of,"
said the master of the house, opening the door of a shallow
cupboard. "That's real chiny, all of it on those two shelves," he
told me proudly. "I bought it all myself, when we was first
married, in the port of Bordeaux. There never was one single piece
of it broke until-- Well, I used to say, long as she lived, there
never was a piece broke, but long at the last I noticed she'd look
kind o' distressed, an' I thought 'twas 'count o' me boastin'.
When they asked if they should use it when the folks was here to
supper, time o' her funeral, I knew she'd want to have everything
nice, and I said 'certain.' Some o' the women they come runnin' to
me an' called me, while they was takin' of the chiny down, an'
showed me there was one o' the cups broke an' the pieces wropped in
paper and pushed way back here, corner o' the shelf. They didn't
want me to go an' think they done it. Poor dear! I had to put
right out o' the house when I see that. I knowed in one minute how
'twas. We'd got so used to sayin' 'twas all there just's I fetched
it home, an' so when she broke that cup somehow or 'nother she
couldn't frame no words to come an' tell me. She couldn't think
'twould vex me, 'twas her own hurt pride. I guess there wa'n't no
other secret ever lay between us."
The French cups with their gay sprigs of pink and blue, the
best tumblers, an old flowered bowl and tea caddy, and a japanned
waiter or two adorned the shelves. These, with a few
daguerreotypes in a little square pile, had the closet to
themselves, and I was conscious of much pleasure in seeing them.
One is shown over many a house in these days where the interest may
be more complex, but not more definite.
"Those were her best things, poor dear," said Elijah as he
locked the door again. "She told me that last summer before she
was taken away that she couldn't think o' anything more she wanted,
there was everything in the house, an' all her rooms was furnished
pretty. I was goin' over to the Port, an' inquired for errands.
I used to ask her to say what she wanted, cost or no cost--she was
a very reasonable woman, an' 'twas the place where she done all but
her extra shopping. It kind o' chilled me up when she spoke so
satisfied."
"You don't go out fishing after Christmas?" I asked, as we
came back to the bright kitchen.
"No; I take stiddy to my knitting after January sets in," said
the old seafarer. "'Tain't worth while, fish make off into deeper
water an' you can't stand no such perishin' for the sake o'
what you get. I leave out a few traps in sheltered coves an' do a
little lobsterin' on fair days. The young fellows braves it out,
some on 'em; but, for me, I lay in my winter's yarn an' set here
where 'tis warm, an' knit an' take my comfort. Mother learnt me
once when I was a lad; she was a beautiful knitter herself. I was
laid up with a bad knee, an' she said 'twould take up my time an'
- hillside [´hilsaid]
n.山腰 (初中英语单词) - pasture [´pɑ:stʃə] n.牧场；放牧 v.吃(草) (初中英语单词)
- surprising [sə´praiziŋ] a.惊人的；意外的 (初中英语单词)
- dwelling [´dweliŋ] n.住所；寓所 (初中英语单词)
- strangely [´streindʒli] ad.奇怪地；陌生地 (初中英语单词)
- knitting [´nitiŋ] n.编织(物)；接合；联合 (初中英语单词)
- trousers [´trauzəz] n.裤子，长裤 (初中英语单词)
- delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- privilege [´privilidʒ] n.特权 vt.给....特权 (初中英语单词)
- sunshine [´sʌnʃain] n.日光，阳光 (初中英语单词)
- fisherman [´fiʃəmən] n.渔民，渔夫，打鱼人 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- hastily [´heistili] ad.急速地；草率地 (初中英语单词)
- visible [´vizəbəl] a.可见的；明显的 (初中英语单词)
- tribute [´tribju:t] n.贡物；献礼；颂词 (初中英语单词)
- fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
- ashore [ə´ʃɔ:] ad.向岸上 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- parlor [´pɑ:lə] n.客厅；起居室 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- freight [freit] n.运货 vt.运送；充满 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- proudly [´praudli] ad.骄傲地；傲慢地 (初中英语单词)
- funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- closet [´klɔzit] n.橱；私室；盥洗室 (初中英语单词)
- conscious [´kɔnʃəs] a.意识的；自觉的 (初中英语单词)
- complex [´kɔmpleks] a.复杂的 n.综合企业 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- learnt [lə:nt] learn 的过去式(分词) (初中英语单词)
- pebble [´pebəl] n.卵石 v.(用卵石)铺 (高中英语单词)
- devise [di´vaiz] vt.设计，发明 (高中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- random [´rændəm] n.偶然的行动 (高中英语单词)
- liable [´laiəbəl] a.易于...的；有责任的 (高中英语单词)
- contrive [kən´traiv] v.发明；设计；图谋 (高中英语单词)
- continual [kən´tinjuəl] a.不断的，频繁的 (高中英语单词)
- affectionate [ə´fekʃənit] a.亲爱的 (高中英语单词)
- perfection [pə´fekʃən] n.完美；极致；熟练 (高中英语单词)
- clumsy [´klʌmzi] a.笨拙的；粗俗的 (高中英语单词)
- shelves [ʃelvz] shelf的复数 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- wholesale [´həulseil] n.&vt.批发 a.批发的 (英语四级单词)
- occupant [´ɔkjupənt] n.居住者；占有人 (英语四级单词)
- flannel [´flænl] n.法兰绒 (英语四级单词)
- fishing [´fiʃiŋ] n.钓鱼；捕鱼；渔业 (英语四级单词)
- woolen [´wulən] a.毛线的；毛织品的 (英语四级单词)
- amiable [´eimiəbəl] a.亲切的，温和的 (英语四级单词)
- abstract [´æbstrækt] a.抽象的 n.提要 (英语四级单词)
- shortening [´ʃɔ:tniŋ] n.缩短 (英语六级单词)
- housekeeping [´haus,ki:piŋ] n.家务管理，家政 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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