the complete writings-4-第12章

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ad　many　boys　in　our　school　who　could　imitate　the　Indian　war　whoop　enough　better　than　they　could　scan　arma；　virumque　cano。




XII

THE　LONELY　FARMHOUSE

The　winter　evenings　of　the　farmer…boy　in　New　England　used　not　to　be　so　gay　as　to　tire　him　of　the　pleasures　of　life　before　he　became　of　age。　　A　remote　farmhouse；　standing　a　little　off　the　road；　banked　up　with　sawdust　and　earth　to　keep　the　frost　out　of　the　cellar；　blockaded　with　snow；　and　flying　a　blue　flag　of　smoke　from　its　chimney；　looks　like　a　besieged　fort。　　On　cold　and　stormy　winter　nights；　to　the　traveler　wearily　dragging　along　in　his　creaking　sleigh；　the　light　from　its　windows　suggests　a　house　of　refuge　and　the　cheer　of　a　blazing　fire。　　But　it　is　no　less　a　fort；　into　which　the　family　retire　when　the　New　England　winter　on　the　hills　really　sets　in。

The　boy　is　an　important　part　of　the　garrison。　　He　is　not　only　one　of　the　best　means　of　communicating　with　the　outer　world；　but　he　furnishes　half　the　entertainment　and　takes　two　thirds　of　the　scolding　of　the　family　circle。　　A　farm　would　come　to　grief　without　a　boy…on　it；　but　it　is　impossible　to　think　of　a　farmhouse　without　a　boy　in　it。

〃That　boy〃　brings　life　into　the　house；　his　tracks　are　to　be　seen　everywhere；　he　leaves　all　the　doors　open；　he　has　n't　half　filled　the　wood…box；　he　makes　noise　enough　to　wake　the　dead；　or　he　is　in　a　brown…study　by　the　fire　and　cannot　be　stirred；　or　he　has　fastened　a　grip　into　some　Crusoe　book　which　cannot　easily　be　shaken　off。　　I　suppose　that　the　farmer…boy's　evenings　are　not　now　what　they　used　to　be；　that　he　has　more　books；　and　less　to　do；　and　is　not　half　so　good　a　boy　as　formerly；　when　he　used　to　think　the　almanac　was　pretty　lively　reading；　and　the　comic　almanac；　if　he　could　get　hold　of　that；　was　a　supreme　delight。

Of　course　he　had　the　evenings　to　himself；　after　he　had　done　the　〃chores〃　at　the　barn；　brought　in　the　wood　and　piled　it　high　in　the　box；　ready　to　be　heaped　upon　the　great　open　fire。　　It　was　nearly　dark　when　he　came　from　school　（with　its　continuation　of　snowballing　and　sliding）；　and　he　always　had　an　agreeable　time　stumbling　and　fumbling　around　in　barn　and　wood…house；　in　the　waning　light。

John　used　to　say　that　he　supposed　nobody　would　do　his　〃chores〃　if　he　did　not　get　home　till　midnight；　and　he　was　never　contradicted。　Whatever　happened　to　him；　and　whatever　length　of　days　or　sort　of　weather　was　produced　by　the　almanac；　the　cardinal　rule　was　that　he　should　be　at　home　before　dark。

John　used　to　imagine　what　people　did　in　the　dark　ages；　and　wonder　sometimes　whether　he　was　n't　still　in　them。

Of　course；　John　had　nothing　to　do　all　the　evening；　after　his　〃chores；〃except　little　things。　　While　he　drew　his　chair　up　to　the　table　in　order　to　get　the　full　radiance　of　the　tallow　candle　on　his　slate　or　his　book；　the　women　of　the　house　also　sat　by　the　table　knitting　and　sewing。　　The　head　of　the　house　sat　in　his　chair；　tipped　back　against　the　chimney；　the　hired　man　was　in　danger　of　burning　his　boots　in　the　fire。　　John　might　be　deep　in　the　excitement　of　a　bear　story；　or　be　hard　at　writing　a　〃composition〃　on　his　greasy　slate；　but　whatever　he　was　doing；　he　was　the　only　one　who　could　always　be　interrupted。　　It　was　he　who　must　snuff　the　candles；　and　put　on　a　stick　of　wood；　and　toast　the　cheese；　and　turn　the　apples；　and　crack　the　nuts。　　He　knew　where　the　fox…and…geese　board　was；　and　he　could　find　the　twelve…men…Morris。　　Considering　that　he　was　expected　to　go　to　bed　at　eight　o'clock；　one　would　say　that　the　opportunity　for　study　was　not　great；　and　that　his　reading　was　rather　interrupted。　　There　seemed　to　be　always　something　for　him　to　do；　even　when　all　the　rest　of　the　family　came　as　near　being　idle　as　is　ever　possible　in　a　New　England　household。

No　wonder　that　John　was　not　sleepy　at　eight　o'clock；　he　had　been　flying　about　while　the　others　had　been　yawning　before　the　fire。　　He　would　like　to　sit　up　just　to　see　how　much　more　solemn　and　stupid　it　would　become　as　the　night　went　on；　he　wanted　to　tinker　his　skates；　to　mend　his　sled；　to　finish　that　chapter。　　Why　should　he　go　away　from　that　bright　blaze；　and　the　company　that　sat　in　its　radiance；　to　the　cold　and　solitude　of　his　chamber？　　Why　did　n't　the　people　who　were　sleepy　go　to　bed？

How　lonesome　the　old　house　was；　how　cold　it　was；　away　from　that　great　central　fire　in　the　heart　of　it；　how　its　timbers　creaked　as　if　in　the　contracting　pinch　of　the　frost；　what　a　rattling　there　was　of　windows；　what　a　concerted　attack　upon　the　clapboards；　how　the　floors　squeaked；　and　what　gusts　from　round　corners　came　to　snatch　the　feeble　flame　of　the　candle　from　the　boy's　hand。　　How　he　shivered；　as　he　paused　at　the　staircase　window　to　look　out　upon　the　great　fields　of　snow；　upon　the　stripped　forest；　through　which　he　could　hear　the　wind　raving　in　a　kind　of　fury；　and　up　at　the　black　flying　clouds；　amid　which　the　young　moon　was　dashing　and　driven　on　like　a　frail　shallop　at　sea。　　And　his　teeth　chattered　more　than　ever　when　he　got　into　the　icy　sheets；　and　drew　himself　up　into　a　ball　in　his　flannel　nightgown；　like　a　fox　in　his　hole。

For　a　little　time　he　could　hear　the　noises　downstairs；　and　an　occasional　laugh；　he　could　guess　that　now　they　were　having　cider；　and　now　apples　were　going　round；　and　he　could　feel　the　wind　tugging　at　the　house；　even　sometimes　shaking　the　bed。　　But　this　did　not　last　long。　　He　soon　went　away　into　a　country　he　always　delighted　to　be　in：　a　calm　place　where　the　wind　never　blew；　and　no　one　dictated　the　time　of　going　to　bed　to　any　one　else。　　I　like　to　think　of　him　sleeping　there；　in　such　rude　surroundings；　ingenious；　innocent；　mischievous；　with　no　thought　of　the　buffeting　he　is　to　get　from　a　world　that　has　a　good　many　worse　places　for　a　boy　than　the　hearth　of　an　old　farmhouse；　and　the　sweet；　though　undemonstrative；　affection　of　its　family　life。

But　there　were　other　evenings　in　the　boy's　life；　that　were　different　from　these　at　home；　and　one　of　them　he　will　never　forget。　　It　opened　a　new　world　to　John；　and　set　him　into　a　great　flutter。　　It　produced　a　revolution　in　his　mind　in　regard　to　neckties；　it　made　him　wonder　if　greased　boots　were　quite　the　thing　compared　with　blacked　boots；　and　he　wished　he　had　a　long　looking…glass；　so　that　he　could　see；　as　he　walked　away　from　it；　what　was　the　effect　of　round　patches　on　the　portion　of　his　trousers　he　could　not　see；　except　in　a　mirror；　and　if　patches　were　quite　stylish；　even　on　everyday　trousers。　　And　he　began　to　be　very　much　troubled　about　the　parting　of　his　hair；　and　how　to　find　out　on　which　side　was　the　natural　part。

The　evening　to　which　I　refer　was　that　of　John's　first　party。　　He　knew　the　girls　at　school；　and　he　was　interested　in　some　of　them　with　a　different　interest　from　that　he　took　in　the　boys。　　He　never　wanted　to　〃take　it　out〃　with　one　of　them；　for　an　insult；　in　a　stand…up　fight；　and　he　instinctively　softened　a　boy's　natural　rudeness　when　he　was　with　them。　　He　would　help　a　timid　little　girl　to　stand　erect　and　slide；　he　would　draw　her　on　his　sled；　till　his　hands　were　stiff　with　cold；　without　a　murmur；　he　would　generously　give　her　red　apples　into　which　he　longed　to　set　his　own　sharp　teeth；　and　he　would　cut　in　two　his　lead…pencil　for　a　girl；　when　he　would　not　for　a　boy。　　Had　he　not　some　of　the　beautiful　auburn　tresses　of　Cynthia　Rudd　in　his　skate；　spruce…gum；　and　wintergreen　box　at　home？　　And　yet　the　grand　sentiment　of　life　was　little　awakened　in　John。　　He　liked　best　to　be　with　boys；　and　their　rough　play　suited　him　better　than　the　amusements　of　the　shrinking；　fluttering；　timid；　and　sensitive　little　girls。　　John　had　not　learned　then　that　a　spider…web　is　stronger　than　a　cable；　or　that　a　pretty　little　girl　could　turn　him　round　her　finger　a　great　deal　easier　than　a　big　bully　of　a　boy　could　make　him　cry　〃enough。〃

John　had　indeed　been　at　spelling…schools；　and　had　accomplished　the　feat　of　〃going　home　with　a　girl〃　afterwards；　and　he　had　been　growing　into　the　habit　of　looking　around　in　meeting　on　Sunday；　and　noticing　how　Cynthia　was　dressed；　and　not　enjoying　the　service　quite　as　much　if　Cynthia　was　absent　as　when　she　was　present。　　But　there　was　very　little　sentiment　in　all　this；　and　nothing　whatever　to　make　John　blush　at　hearing　her　name。

But　now　John　was　invited　to　a　regular　party。　　There　was　the　invitatio