a sappho of green springs-第8章

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miniature　stems；　and　the　microcosm　of　life　that　filled　it。　　But；

even　while　paying　this　tribute　to　the　accuracy　of　the　unknown

poetess；　he　was；　like　his　predecessor；　haunted　more　strongly　by　the

atmosphere　and　melody　of　her　verse。　　Its　spell　was　upon　him；　too。

Unlike　Mr。　Hamlin；　he　did　not　sing。　　He　only　halted　once　or　twice；

silently　combing　his　straight　narrow　beard　with　his　three　fingers；

until　the　action　seemed　to　draw　down　the　lines　of　his　face　into

limitless　dejection；　and　an　inscrutable　melancholy　filled　his　small

gray　eyes。　　The　few　birds　which　had　hailed　Mr。　Hamlin　as　their

successful　rival　fled　away　before　the　grotesque　and　angular　half…

length　of　Mr。　Bowers；　as　if　the　wind　had　blown　in　a　scarecrow　from

the　distant　farms。



Suddenly　he　observed　the　figure　of　a　woman；　with　her　back　towards

him；　leaning　motionless　against　a　tree；　and　apparently　gazing

intently　in　the　direction　of　Green　Springs。　　He　had　approached　so

near　to　her　that　it　was　singular　she　had　not　heard　him。　　Mr。　Bowers

was　a　bashful　man　in　the　presence　of　the　other　sex。　　He　felt

exceedingly　embarrassed；　if　he　could　have　gone　away　without

attracting　her　attention　he　would　have　done　so。　　Neither　could　he

remain　silent；　a　tacit　spy　of　her　meditation。　　He　had　recourse　to　a

polite　but　singularly　artificial　cough。



To　his　surprise；　she　gave　a　faint　cry；　turned　quickly　towards　him；

and　then　shrank　back　and　lapsed　quite　helpless　against　the　tree。

Her　evident　distress　overcame　his　bashfulness。　　He　ran　towards　her。



〃I'm　sorry　I　frighted　ye；　ma'am；　but　I　was　afraid　I　might　skeer　ye

more　if　I　lay　low；　and　said　nothin'。〃



Even　then；　if　she　had　been　some　fair　young　country　girl；　he　would

have　relapsed　after　this　speech　into　his　former　bashfulness。　　But

the　face　and　figure　she　turned　towards　him　were　neither　young　nor

fair：　a　woman　past　forty；　with　gray　threads　and　splashes　in　her

brushed…back　hair；　which　was　turned　over　her　ears　in　two　curls　like

frayed　strands　of　rope。　　Her　forehead　was　rather　high　than　broad；

her　nose　large　but　well…shaped；　and　her　eyes　full　but　so　singularly

light　in　color　as　to　seem　almost　sightless。　　The　short　upper　lip　of

her　large　mouth　displayed　her　teeth　in　an　habitual　smile；　which　was

in　turn　so　flatly　contradicted　by　every　other　line　of　her　careworn

face　that　it　seemed　gratuitously　artificial。　　Her　figure　was　hidden

by　a　shapeless　garment　that　partook　equally　of　the　shawl；　cloak；

and　wrapper。



〃I　am　very　foolish；〃　she　began；　in　a　voice　and　accent　that　at　once

asserted　a　cultivated　woman；　〃but　I　so　seldom　meet　anybody　here

that　a　voice　quite　startled　me。　　That；　and　the　heat；〃　she　went　on；

wiping　her　face；　into　which　the　color　was　returning　violently〃for

I　seldom　go　out　as　early　as　thisI　suppose　affected　me。〃



Mr。　Bowers　had　that　innate　Far…Western　reverence　for　womanhood

which　I　fancy　challenges　the　most　polished　politeness。　　He　remained

patient；　undemonstrative；　self…effacing；　and　respectful　before　her；

his　angular　arm　slightly　but　not　obtrusively　advanced；　the　offer　of

protection　being　in　the　act　rather　than　in　any　spoken　word；　and

requiring　no　response。



〃Like　as　not；　ma'am；〃　he　said；　cheerfully　looking　everywhere　but　in

her　burning　face。　　〃The　sun　IS　pow'ful　hot　at　this　time　o'　day；　I

felt　it　myself　comin'　yer；　and；　though　the　damp　of　this　timber

kinder　sets　it　back；　it's　likely　to　come　out　ag'in。　　Ye　can't　check

it　no　more　than　the　sap　in　that　choked　limb　thar〃he　pointed

ostentatiously　where　a　fallen　pine　had　been　caught　in　the　bent　and

twisted　arm　of　another；　but　which　still　put　out　a　few　green　tassels

beyond　the　point　of　impact。　　〃Do　you　live　far　from　here；　ma'am？〃　he

added。



〃Only　as　far　as　the　first　turning　below　the　hill。〃



〃I've　got　my　buggy　here；　and　I'm　goin'　that　way；　and　I　can　jist　set

ye　down　thar　cool　and　comfortable。　　Ef；〃　he　continued；　in　the　same

assuring　tone；　without　waiting　for　a　reply；　〃ye'll　jist　take　a　good

grip　of　my　arm　thar；〃　curving　his　wrist　and　hand　behind　him　like　a

shepherd's　crook；　〃I'll　go　first；　and　break　away　the　brush　for　ye。〃



She　obeyed　mechanically；　and　they　fared　on　through　the　thick　ferns

in　this　fashion　for　some　moments；　he　looking　ahead；　occasionally

dropping　a　word　of　caution　or　encouragement；　but　never　glancing　at

her　face。　　When　they　reached　the　buggy　he　lifted　her　into　it

carefully；and　perpendicularly；　it　struck　her　afterwards；　very

much　as　if　she　had　been　a　transplanted　sapling　with　bared　and

sensitive　roots；and　then　gravely　took　his　place　beside　her。



〃Bein'　in　the　timber　trade　myself；　ma'am；〃　he　said；　gathering　up

the　reins；　〃I　chanced　to　sight　these　woods；　and　took　a　look　around。

My　name　is　Bowers；　of　Mendocino；　I　reckon　there　ain't　much　that

grows　in　the　way　o'　standin'　timber　on　the　Pacific　Slope　that　I

don't　know　and　can't　locate；　though　I　DO　say　it。　　I've　got　ez　big　a

mill；　and　ez　big　a　run　in　my　district；　ez　there　is　anywhere。　　Ef

you're　ever　up　my　way；　you　ask　for　BowersJim　Bowersand　that's

ME。〃



There　is　probably　nothing　more　conducive　to　conversation　between

strangers　than　a　wholesome　and　early　recognition　of　each　other's

foibles。　　Mr。　Bowers；　believing　his　chance　acquaintance　a　superior

woman；　naively　spoke　of　himself　in　a　way　that　he　hoped　would

reassure　her　that　she　was　not　compromising　herself　in　accepting　his

civility；　and　so　satisfy　what　must　be　her　inevitable　pride。　　On　the

other　hand；　the　woman　regained　her　self…possession　by　this

exhibition　of　Mr。　Bowers's　vanity；　and；　revived　by　the　refreshing

breeze　caused　by　the　rapid　motion　of　the　buggy　along　the　road；

thanked　him　graciously。



〃I　suppose　there　are　many　strangers　at　the　Green　Springs　Hotel；〃

she　said；　after　a　pause。



〃I　didn't　get　to　see　'em；　as　I　only　put　up　my　hoss　there；〃　he

replied。　　〃But　I　know　the　stage　took　some　away　this　mornin'：　it

seemed　pretty　well　loaded　up　when　I　passed　it。〃



The　woman　drew　a　deep　sigh。　　The　act　struck　Mr。　Bowers　as　a

possible　return　of　her　former　nervous　weakness。　　Her　attention　must

at　once　be　distracted　at　any　costeven　conversation。



〃Perhaps；〃　he　began；　with　sudden　and　appalling　lightness；　〃I'm

a…talkin'　to　Mrs。　McFadden？〃



〃No；〃　said　the　woman；　abstractedly。



〃Then　it　must　be　Mrs。　Delatour？　　There　are　only　two　township　lots

on　that　crossroad。〃



〃My　name　IS　Delatour；〃　she　said；　somewhat　wearily。



Mr。　Bowers　was　conversationally　stranded。　　He　was　not　at　all

anxious　to　know　her　name；　yet；　knowing　it　now；　it　seemed　to　suggest

that　there　was　nothing　more　to　say。　　He　would；　of　course；　have

preferred　to　ask　her　if　she　had　read　the　poetry　about　the

Underbrush；　and　if　she　knew　the　poetess；　and　what　she　thought　of

it；　but　the　fact　that　she　appeared　to　be　an　〃eddicated〃　woman　made

him　sensitive　of　displaying　technical　ignorance　in　his　manner　of

talking　about　it。　　She　might　ask　him　if　it　was　〃subjective　or

〃objective〃two　words　he　had　heard　used　at　the　Debating　Society　at

Mendocino　on　the　question；　〃Is　poetry　morally　beneficial？〃　　For　a

few　moments　he　was　silent。　　But　presently　she　took　the　initiative

in　conversation；　at　first　slowly　and　abstractedly；　and　then；　as　if

appreciating　his　sympathetic　reticence；　or　mayhap　finding　some

relief　in　monotonous　expression；　talked　mechanically；　deliberately；

but　unostentatiously　about　herself。　　So　colorless　was　her

intonation　that　at　times　it　did　not　seem　as　if　she　was　talking　to

him；　but　repeating　some　conversation　she　had　held　with　another。



She　had　lived　there　ever　since　she　had　been　in　California。　　Her

husband　had　bought　the　Spanish　title　to　the　property　when　they

first　married。　　The　property　at　his　death　was　found　to　be　greatly

involved；　she　had　been　obliged　to　part　with　much　of　it　to　support

her　childrenfour　girls　and　a　boy。　　She　had　been　compelled　to

withdraw　the　girls　from　the　convent　at　Santa　Clara　to　help　about

the　house；　the　boy　was　too　youngshe　feared；　too　shiftlessto　do

anything。　　The　farm　did　not　pay；　the　land　was