the americanization of edward bok-第17章

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Edward　had　offered　to　help　Mr。　Beecher　with　his　correspondence；　at　the　close　of　one　afternoon；　while　he　was　with　the　Plymouth　pastor　at　work；　an　organ…grinder　and　a　little　girl　came　under　the　study　window。　A　cold；　driving　rain　was　pelting　down。　In　a　moment　Mr。　Beecher　noticed　the　girl's　bare　toes　sticking　out　of　her　worn　shoes。

He　got　up；　went　into　the　hall；　and　called　for　one　of　his　granddaughters。

〃Got　any　good；　strong　rain　boots？〃　he　asked　when　she　appeared。

〃Why；　yes；　grandfather。　Why？〃　was　the　answer。

〃More　than　one　pair？〃　Mr。　Beecher　asked。

〃Yes；　two　or　three；　I　think。〃

〃Bring　me　your　strongest　pair；　will　you；　dear？〃　he　asked。　And　as　the　girl　looked　at　him　with　surprise　he　said：　〃Just　one　of　my　notions。〃

〃Now；　just　bring　that　child　into　the　house　and　put　them　on　her　feet　for　me；　will　you？〃　he　said　when　the　shoes　came。　〃I'll　be　able　to　work　so　much　better。〃

One　rainy　day；　as　Edward　was　coming　up　from　Fulton　Ferry　with　Mr。　Beecher；　they　met　an　old　woman　soaked　with　the　rain。　〃Here；　you　take　this；　my　good　woman；〃　said　the　clergyman；　putting　his　umbrella　over　her　head　and　thrusting　the　handle　into　the　astonished　woman's　hand。　〃Let's　get　into　this；〃　he　said　to　Edward　simply；　as　he　hailed　a　passing　car。

〃There　is　a　good　deal　of　fraud　about　beggars；〃　he　remarked　as　he　waved　a　sot　away　from　him　one　day；　〃but　that　doesn't　apply　to　women　and　children；〃　he　added；　and　he　never　passed　such　mendicants　without　stopping。　All　the　stories　about　their　being　tools　in　the　hands　of　accomplices　failed　to　convince　him。　〃They're　women　and　children；〃　he　would　say；　and　that　settled　it　for　him。

〃What's　the　matter；　son？　Stuck？〃　he　said　once　to　a　newsboy　who　was　crying　with　a　heavy　bundle　of　papers　under　his　arm。

〃Come　along　with　me；　then；〃　said　Mr。　Beecher；　taking　the　boy's　hand　and　leading　him　into　the　newspaper　office　a　few　doors　up　the　street。

〃This　boy　is　stuck；〃　he　simply　said　to　the　man　behind　the　counter。　〃Guess　The　Eagle　can　stand　it　better　than　this　boy；　don't　you　think　so？〃

To　the　grown　man　Mr。　Beecher　rarely　gave　charity。　He　believed　in　a　return　for　his　alms。

〃Why　don't　you　go　to　work？〃　he　asked　of　a　man　who　approached　him　one　day　in　the　street。

〃Can't　find　any；〃　said　the　man。

〃Looked　hard　for　it？〃　was　the　next　question。

〃I　have；〃　and　the　man　looked　Mr。　Beecher　in　the　eye。

〃Want　some？〃　asked　Mr。　Beecher。

〃I　do；〃　said　the　man。

〃Come　with　me；〃　said　the　preacher。　And　then　to　Edward；　as　they　walked　along　with　the　man　following　behind；　he　added：　〃That　man　is　honest。〃

〃Let　this　man　sweep　out　the　church；〃　he　said　to　the　sexton　when　they　had　reached　Plymouth　Church。

〃But；　Mr。　Beecher；〃　replied　the　sexton　with　wounded　pride；　〃it　doesn't　need　it。〃

〃Don't　tell　him　so；　though；〃　said　Mr。　Beecher　with　a　merry　twinkle　of　the　eye；　and　the　sexton　understood。

Mr。　Beecher　was　constantly　thoughtful　of　a　struggling　young　man's　welfare；　even　at　the　expense　of　his　own　material　comfort。　Anxious　to　save　him　from　the　labor　of　writing　out　the　newspaper　articles；　Edward；　himself　employed　during　the　daylight　hours　which　Mr。　Beecher　preferred　for　his　original　work；　suggested　a　stenographer。　The　idea　appealed　to　Mr。　Beecher；　for　he　was　very　busy　just　then。　He　hesitated；　but　as　Edward　persisted；　he　said：　〃All　right；　let　him　come　to…morrow。〃

The　next　day　he　said：　〃I　asked　that　stenographer　friend　of　yours　not　to　come　again。　No　use　of　my　trying　to　dictate。　I　am　too　old　to　learn　new　tricks。　Much　easier　for　me　to　write　myself。〃

Shortly　after　that；　however；　Mr。　Beecher　dictated　to　Edward　some　material　for　a　book　he　was　writing。　Edward　naturally　wondered　at　this；　and　asked　the　stenographer　what　had　happened。

〃Nothing；〃　he　said。　〃Only　Mr。　Beecher　asked　me　how　much　it　would　cost　you　to　have　me　come　to　him　each　week。　I　told　him；　and　then　he　sent　me　away。〃

That　was　Henry　Ward　Beecher！

Edward　Bok　was　in　the　formative　period　between　boyhood　and　young　manhood　when　impressions　meant　lessons；　and　associations　meant　ideals。　Mr。　Beecher　never　disappointed。　The　closer　one　got　to　him；　the　greater　he　becamein　striking　contrast　to　most　public　men；　as　Edward　had　already　learned。

Then；　his　interests　and　sympathies　were　enormously　wide。　He　took　in　so　much！　One　day　Edward　was　walking　past　Fulton　Market；　in　New　York　City；　with　Mr。　Beecher。

〃Never　skirt　a　market；〃　the　latter　said；　〃always　go　through　it。　It's　the　next　best　thing；　in　the　winter；　to　going　South。〃

Of　course　all　the　marketmen　knew　him；　and　they　knew；　too；　his　love　for　green　things。

〃What　do　you　think　of　these　apples；　Mr。　Beecher？〃　one　marketman　would　stop　to　ask。

Mr。　Beecher　would　answer　heartily：　〃Fine！　Don't　see　how　you　grow　them。　All　that　my　trees　bear　is　a　crop　of　scale。　Still；　the　blossoms　are　beautiful　in　the　spring；　and　I　like　an　apple…leaf。　Ever　examine　one？〃　The　marketman　never　had。　〃Well；　now；　do；　the　next　time　you　come　across　an　apple…tree　in　the　spring。〃

And　thus　he　would　spread　abroad　an　interest　in　the　beauties　of　nature　which　were　commonly　passed　over。

〃Wonderful　man；　Beecher　is；〃　said　a　market　dealer　in　green　goods　once。　〃I　had　handled　thousands　of　bunches　of　celery　in　my　life　and　never　noticed　how　beautiful　its　top　leaves　were　until　he　picked　up　a　bunch　once　and　told　me　all　about　it。　Now　I　haven't　the　heart　to　cut　the　leaves　off　when　a　customer　asks　me。〃

His　idea　of　his　own　vegetable…gardening　at　Boscobel；　his　Peekskill　home；　was　very　amusing。　One　day　Edward　was　having　a　hurried　dinner；　preparatory　to　catching　the　New　York　train。　Mr。　Beecher　sat　beside　the　boy；　telling　him　of　some　things　he　wished　done　in　Brooklyn。

〃No；　I　thank　you；〃　said　Edward；　as　the　maid　offered　him　some　potatoes。

〃Look　here；　young　man；〃　said　Mr。　Beecher；　〃don't　pass　those　potatoes　so　lightly。　They're　of　my　own　raisingand　I　reckon　they　cost　me　about　a　dollar　a　piece；〃　he　added　with　a　twinkle　in　his　eye。

He　was　an　education　in　so　many　ways！　One　instance　taught　Edward　the　great　danger　of　passionate　speech　that　might　unconsciously　wound；　and　the　manliness　of　instant　recognition　of　the　error。　Swayed　by　an　occasion；　or　by　the　responsiveness　of　an　audience；　Mr。　Beecher　would　sometimes　say　something　which　was　not　meant　as　it　sounded。　One　evening；　at　a　great　political　meeting　at　Cooper　Union；　Mr。　Beecher　was　at　his　brightest　and　wittiest。　In　the　course　of　his　remarks　he　had　occasion　to　refer　to　ex…President　Hayes；　some　one　in　the　audience　called　out：　〃He　was　a　softy！〃

〃No；〃　was　Mr。　Beecher's　quick　response。　〃The　country　needed　a　poultice　at　that　time；　and　got　it。〃

〃He's　dead　now；　anyhow；〃　responded　the　voice。

〃Not　dead；　my　friend：　he　only　sleepeth。〃

It　convulsed　the　audience；　of　course；　and　the　reporters　took　it　down　in　their　books。

After　the　meeting　Edward　drove　home　with　Mr。　Beecher。　After　a　while　he　asked：　〃Well；　how　do　you　think　it　went？〃

Edward　replied　he　thought　it　went　very　well；　except　that　he　did　not　like　the　reference　to　ex…President　Hayes。

〃What　reference？　What　did　I　say？〃

Edward　repeated　it。

〃Did　I　say　that？〃　he　asked。　Edward　looked　at　him。　Mr。　Beecher's　face　was　tense。　After　a　few　moments　he　said：　〃That's　generally　the　way　with　extemporaneous　remarks：　they　are　always　dangerous。　The　best　impromptu　speeches　and　remarks　are　the　carefully　prepared　kind；〃　he　added。

Edward　told　him　he　regretted　the　reference　because　he　knew　that　General　Hayes　would　read　it　in　the　New　York　papers；　and　he　would　be　nonplussed　to　understand　it；　considering　the　cordial　relations　which　existed　between　the　two　men。　Mr。　Beecher　knew　of　Edward's　relations　with　the　ex…President；　and　they　had　often　talked　of　him　together。

Nothing　more　was　said　of　the　incident。　When　the　Beecher　home　was　reached　Mr。　Beecher　said：　〃Just　come　in　a　minute。〃　He　went　straight　to　his　desk；　and　wrote　and　wrote。　It　seemed　as　if　he　would　never　stop。　At　last　he　handed　Edward　an　eight…page　letter；　closely　written；　addressed　to　General　Hayes。

〃Read　that；　and　mail　it；　please；　on　your　way　home。　Then　it'll　get　there　just　as　quickly　as　the　New　York　papers　will。〃

It　was　a　superbly　fine　letter；one　of　those　letters　which　only　Henry　Ward　Beecher　could　write　in　his　tenderest　moods。　And　the　reply　which　came　from　Fremont；　Ohio；　was　no　less　fine！



IX。　Associatio