the vision spendid(美景)-第1章
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THE VISION SPLENDID
THE VISION
SPLENDID
William MacLeod Raine
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THE VISION SPLENDID
CHAPTER 1
Of all the remote streams of influence that pour both before and after
birth into the channel of our being； what an insignificant fewand these
only the more obviousare traceable at all。 We swim in a sea of
environment and heredity； are tossed hither and thither by we know not
what cross currents of Fate； are tugged at by a thousand eddies of which
we never dream。 The sum of it all makes Life； of which we know so little
and guess so much； into which we dive so surely in those buoyant days
before time and tide have shaken confidence in our power to snatch
success and happiness from its mysterious depths。 From the Note Book
of a Dreamer。
A REBEL IN THE MAKING
PART 1
The air was mellow with the warmth of the young spring sun。 Locusts
whirred in rhapsody。 Bluebirds throbbed their love songs joyously。 The
drone of insects； the shimmer of hear； were in the atmosphere。 One could
almost see green things grow。 To confine youth within four walls on such
a day was an outrage against human nature。
A lean； wiry boy； hatchet…faced； stared with dreamy eyes out of the
window of his prison。 By raising himself in his seat while the teacher was
not looking he could catch a silvery gleam of the river through the great
firs。 His thoughts were far afield。 They were not concerned with the
capitals of the States he was supposed to be learning； but had fared forth to
the reborn earth； to the stir and movement of creeping things。 The call of
nature awakening from its long winter sleep drummed in his heart。 He
could sympathize with the bluebottle buzzing against the sunny
windowpane in its efforts to reach the free world outside。
Recess！ With the sound of the gong his heart leaped； but he kept his
place in the line with perfect decorum。 It would never do to be called back
now for a momentary indiscretion。 From the school yard he slipped the
back way and dived into a bank of great ferns。 In the heart of this he lay
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THE VISION SPLENDID
until the bell had called his classmates back to work。 Cautiously he crept
from his hiding place and ran down to the river。
Flinging himself on Big Rock； with his chin over the edge； he looked
into the deep holes under the bank where the trout lay close to the strings
of shiny moss； their noses to the current； motionless save for the fanning
tails。
Idly he enjoyed himself for a happy hour； letting thoughts happen as
they would。 Not till the school bell rang for dismissal did he drag himself
back with a sigh to the workaday world that called。 He had a lawn to mow
and a back yard to clean up for Mr。 Rawson。
With his cap stuck on the back of his head and his hands in the pockets
of his patched trousers； the boy went whistling townward on his barefoot
way。 At Adams Street he met the schoolchildren bound for home。 A dozen
boys from his own room closed in on him with shouts of joyous malice。
〃Played hookey！ Played hookey！ Jeff Farnum played hookey！〃 they
shrilled at him。
Ned Merrill assumed leadership of the young Apaches。 〃You're goin' to
catch it。 Old Webber was down askin' for you。 Wasn't he； Tom？ Wasn't he；
Dick？〃
Tom and Dick lied cheerfully to increase Jeff's dread。 They added
graphic details to help the story。
The victim looked around with stoicism。 He remembered the
philosophy of the optimist that a licking does not last long。
〃Don't care if he was down；〃 the boy bluffed。
〃Huh！ Mr。 Don't Care！ Mr。 Don't Care！〃 shrieked Merrill gleefully。
They made a circle around Jeff and mocked him。 Once or twice a
bolder tormentor snatched at his cap or pushed a neighbor against him。
Then； with the inconstancy of youth； they suddenly deserted him for more
diverting game。 A forlorn little Italian girl was trying to slip past on the
other side of the street。 Someone caught sight of her and with a whoop the
Apaches were upon her pell…mell。 She began to run； but they hemmed her
in。 One tugged at her braided hair。 Another flipped mud at her dress from
the end of a stick。 Merrill snatched her slate and made off with it。
Jeff cut swiftly across the street。 Merrill was coming directly toward
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him； his head turned to the girl。 Triumphant whoops broke from his throat。
He bumped into Jeff； stumbled； and went down in the mud。
Young Merrill was up in an instant； clamorous for battle。 His hands
and clothes were plastered with filth。
〃I'm goin' to lick the stuffin' out of you；〃 he bellowed。
Jeff said nothing。 He was very white。 His fingers worked nervously。
〃Yah！ Yah！ He's scared；〃 the mob jeered。
Jeff was。 In that circle of hostile faces he found no sympathy。 He had
to stand up to the bully of the class； a boy who could have given him
fifteen pounds。 Looking around for help； he saw that none was at hand。
The thin legs of the rescued Italian girl were flashing down the street。 On
the steps of the big house of P。 C。 Frome a six…year…old little one was
standing with her nurse。 Nobody else was in sight except his cousin； James；
and the Apaches。
〃You're goin' to get the maulin' of your life；〃 Ned Merrill promised as
he slipped out of his coat。 〃Webber'll lick you if he finds out you been
fightin'；〃 James Farnum prophesied cheerfully to his cousin。 He intended
to do his duty in the way of protest and then watch the fight。
Ned worked his wiry little foe to the fence and pummeled him。 Jeff
ducked and backed out of danger。 Keeping to the defensive； he was being
badly punished。 Once he slipped in the mud and went down； but he was up
again before his slower antagonist could close with him。 Blood streamed
from his nose。 His lip was gashed。 Under the buffeting he was getting his
head began to sing。
〃Punch him good； Ned；〃 one of the champion's friends advised。
〃You bet he is；〃 another chortled。
Their jeers had an unexpected effect。 Jeff's fears were blotted out by
his desperate need。 Some spark of the fighting edge； inherited from his
father； was fanned to a flame in the heart of the bruised little warrior。 Like
a tiger cat he leaped for Ned's throat； twisted his slim legs round the sturdy
ones of his enemy； and went down with him in a heap。
Jeff landed on the bottom； but like an eel he squirmed to the top before
the other had time to get set。 The champion's patrician head was thumped
down into the mud and a knobby little fist played a painful tattoo on his
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mouth and cheek。
〃Take him off！ Take him off！〃 Merrill shrieked after he had tried in
vain to roll away the incubus clamped like a vise to his body。
His henchmen ran forward to obey。 An unexpected intervention
stopped them。 A one…armed little man who had drifted down the street in
tim
