eben holden-第14章

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'Years　and　years　ago；'　said　he；　'there　was　a　boy　by　the　name　of　Nehemiah　Brower。　An'　he　killed　another　boy；　once；　by　accident　an'　run　away　an'　was　drownded。'

'Drownded！'　said　Uncle　Eb。　'How？'

'In　the　ocean；'　the　first　answered　gaping。　'Went　away　off　'round　the　world　an'　they　got　a　letter　that　said　he　was　drownded　on　his　way　to　Van　Dieman's　Land。'

'To　Van　Dieman's　Land！'

'Yes；　an　some　say　the　night　man　is　the　ghost　o'　the　one　he　killed。'

I　remember　waking　that　night　and　hearing　excited　whispers　at　the　window　near　my　bed。　It　was　very　dark　in　the　room　and　at　first　I　could　not　tell　who　was　there。

'Don't　you　see　him？'　Tip　whispered。

'Where？'　I　heard　Uncle　Be　ask

'Under　the　pine　trees　…　see　him　move。'

At　that　I　was　up　at　the　window　myself　and　could　plainly　see　the　dark　figure　of　a　man　standing　under　the　little　pine　below　us。

'The　night　man；　I　guess；'　said　Uncle　Be；　'but　he　won't　do　no　harm。　Let　him　alone；　he's　going'　away　now。'

We　saw　him　disappear　behind　the　trees　and　then　we　got　back　into　our　beds　again。　I　covered　my　head　with　the　bedclothes　and　said　a　small　prayer　for　the　poor　night　man。

And　in　this　atmosphere　of　mystery　and　adventure；　among　the　plain　folk　of　Faraway；　whose　care　of　me　when　I　was　in　great　need；　and　whose　love　of　me　always；　I　count　among　the　priceless　treasures　of　God's　providence；　my　childhood　passed。　And　the　day　came　near　when　I　was　to　begin　to　play　my　poor　part　in　the　world。

BOOK　TWO

Chapter　12

It　was　a　time　of　new　things　…　that　winter　when　I　saw　the　end　of　my　fifteenth　year。　Then　I　began　to　enjoy　the　finer　humours　of　life　in　Faraway　…　to　see　with　understanding；　and　by　God's　grace　…　to　feel。

The　land　of　play　and　fear　and　fable　was　now　far　behind　me　and　I　had　begun　to　feel　the　infinite　in　the　ancient　forest'　in　the　everlasting　hills；　in　the　deep　of　heaven；　in　all　the　ways　of　men。　Hope　Brower　was　now　near　woman　grown。　She　had　a　beauty　of　face　and　form　that　was　the　talk　of　the　countryside。　I　have　travelled　far　and　seen　many　a　fair　face　hut　never　one　more　to　my　eye。　I　have　heard　men　say　she　was　like　a　girl　out　of　a　story…book　those　days。

Late　years　something　had　come　between　us。　Long　ago　we　had　fallen　out　of　each　other's　confidence；　and　ever　since　she　had　seemed　to　shun　me。　It　was　the　trip　in　the　sledgehouse　that'　years　after；　came　up　between　us　and　broke　our　childish　intimacy。　Uncle　Be　had　told；　before　company；　how　she　had　kissed　me　that　day　and　bespoke　me　for　a　husband；　and　while　the　others　laughed　loudly　she　had　gone　out　of　the　room　crying。　She　would　have　little　to　say　to　me　then。　I　began　to　play　with　boys　and　she　with　girls。　And　it　made　me　miserable　to　hear　the　boys　a　bit　older　than　I　gossip　of　her　beauty　and　accuse　each　other　of　the　sweet　disgrace　of　love。

But　I　must　hasten　to　those　events　in　Faraway　that　shaped　our　destinies。　And　first　comes　that　memorable　night　when　I　had　the　privilege　of　escorting　Hope　to　the　school　lyceum　where　the　argument　of　Jed　Feary　…　poet　of　the　hills　…　fired　my　soul　with　an　ambition　that　has　remained　with　me　always。

Uncle　Be　suggested　that　I　ask　Hope　to　go　with　me。

'Prance　right　up　to　her；'　he　said；　'an'　say　you'd　be　glad　of　the　pleasure　of　her　company。

It　seemed　to　me　a　very　dubious　thing　to　do。　I　looked　thoughtful　and　turned　red　in　the　face。

'Young　man；'　he　continued；　'the　boy　thet's　'fraid　o'　women'll　never　hev　whiskers。'

'How's　that？'　I　enquired。

'Be　scairt　t'　death；'　he　answered；'　'fore　they've　hed　time　t'　start　Ye　want　t'　step　right　up　t'　the　rack　jes'　if　ye'd　bought　an'　paid　fer　yerself　an'　was　proud　o'　yer　bargain。'

I　took　his　advice　and　when　I　found　Hope　alone　in　the　parlour　I　came　and　asked　her；　very　awkwardly　as　I　now　remember；　to　go　with　me。

She　looked　at　me；　blushing；　and　said　she　would　ask　her　mother。

And　she　did；　and　we　walked　to　the　schoolhouse　together　that　evening；　her　hand　holding　my　arm；　timidly；　the　most　serious　pair　that　ever　struggled　with　the　problem　of　deportment　on　such　an　occasion。　I　was　oppressed　with　a　heavy　sense　of　responsibility　in　every　word　I　uttered。

Ann　Jane　Foster；　known　as　'Scooter　Jane'；　for　her　rapid　walk　and　stiff　carriage；　met　us　at　the　corners　on　her　way　to　the　schoolhouse。

'Big　turn　out　I　guess；'　said　she。　'Jed　Feary　'n'　Squire　Town　is　comin'　over　from　Jingleville　an'　all　the　big　guns'll　be　there。　I　love　t'　hear　Jed　Feary　speak；　he's　so　techin'。'

Ann　Jane　was　always　looking　around　for　some　event　likely　to　touch　her　feelings。　She　went　to　every　funeral　in　Faraway　and；　when　sorrow　was　scarce　in　her　own　vicinity；　journeyed　far　in　quest　of　it

'Wouldn't　wonder　'f　the　fur　flew　when　they　git　t'　going'；'　she　remarked；　and　then　hurried　on；　her　head　erect；　her　body　motionless；　her　legs　flying。　Such　energy　as　she　gave　to　the　pursuit　of　mourning　I　have　never　seen　equalled　in　any　other　form　of　dissipation。

The　schoolhouse　was　nearly　full　of　people　when　we　came　in。　The　big　boys　were　wrestling　in　the　yard；　men　were　lounging　on　the　rude　seats；　inside；　idly　discussing　crops　and　cattle　and　lapsing　into　silence；　frequently；　that　bore　the　signs　both　of　expectancy　and　reflection。　Young　men　and　young　women　sat　together　on　one　side　of　the　house　whispering　and　giggling。　Alone　among　them　was　the　big　and　eccentric　granddaughter　of　Mrs　Bisnette；　who　was　always　slapping　some　youngster　for　impertinence。　Jed　Feary　and　Squire　Town　sat　together　behind　a　pile　of　books；　both　looking　very　serious。　The　long　hair　and　beard　of　the　old　poet　were　now　white　and　his　form　bent　with　age。　He　came　over　and　spoke　to　us　and　took　a　curl　of　Hope's　hair　in　his　stiffened　fingers　and　held　it　to　the　lamplight。

'What　silky　gold！'　he　whispered。'　'S　a　skein　o'　fate；　my　dear　girl！'

Suddenly　the　schoolteacher　rapped　on　the　desk　and　bade　us　come　to　order　and　Ransom　Walker　was　called　to　the　chair。

'Thet　there　is　talent　in　Faraway　township；'　he　said；　having　reluctantly　come　to　the　platform；　'and　talent　of　the　very　highest　order；　no　one　can　deny　who　has　ever　attended　a　lyceum　at　the　Howard　schoolhouse。　I　see　evidences　of　talent　in　every　face　before　me。　And　I　wish　to　ask　what　are　the　two　great　talents　of　the　Yankee　…　talents　that　made　our　forefathers　famous　the　world　over？　I　pause　for　an　answer。'

He　had　once　been　a　schoolmaster　and　that　accounted　for　his　didactic　style。

'What　are　the　two　great　talents　of　the　Yankee？'　he　repeated；　his　hands　clasped　before　him。

'Doughnuts　an'　pie；'　said　Uncle　Be　who　sat　in　a　far　corner。

'No　sir；'　Mr　Walker　answered；　'there's　some　hev　a　talent　fer　sawin'　wood；　but　we　don't　count　that。　It's　war　an'　speakin'；　they　are　the　two　great　talents　of　the　Yankee。　But　his　greatest　talent　is　the　gift　o'　gab。　Give　him　a　chance　t'　talk　it　over　with　his　enemy　an'　he'll　lick　'im　without　a　fight。　An'　when　his　enemy　is　another　Yankee　…　why；　they　both　git　licked；　jest　as　it　was　in　the　case　of　the　man　thet　sold　me　lightnin'　rods。　He　was　sorry　he　done　it　before　I　got　through　with　him。　If　we　did　not　encourage　this　talent　in　our　sons　they　would　be　talked　to　death　by　our　daughters。　Ladies　and　gentlemen；　it　gives　me　pleasure　t'　say　that　the　best　speakers　in　Faraway　township　have　come　here　t'　discuss　the　important　question：

'Resolved；　that　intemperance　has　caused　more　misery　than　war？

'I　call　upon　Moses　Tupper　to　open　for　the　affirmative。'

Moses；　as　I　have　remarked；　had　a　most　unlovely　face　with　a　thin　and　bristling　growth　of　whiskers。　In　giving　him　features　Nature　had　been　generous　to　a　fault。　He　had　a　large　red　nose；　and　a　mouth　vastly　too　big　for　any　proper　use。　It　was　a　mouth　fashioned　for　odd　sayings。　He　was　well　to　do　and　boasted　often　that　he　was　a　self…made　man。　Uncle　Be　used　to　say　that　if　Mose　Tupper　had　had　the　'makin'　uv　himself　he'd　oughter　done　it　more　careful。'

I　remember　not　much　of　the　speech　he　made；　but　the　picture　of　him；　as　he　rose　on　tiptoe　and　swung　his　arms　like　a　man　fighting　bees；　and　his　drawling　tones　are　as　familiar　as　the　things　of　yesterday。

'Gentlemen　an'　ladies；'　said　he　presently；　'let　me　show　you　a　pictur'。　It　is　the　drunkard's　child。　It　is　hungry　an'　there　ain't　no　food　in　its　home。　The　child　is　poorer'n　a　straw…fed　hoss。　'Tain't　hed　a　thing　t'　eat　since　day　before　yistiddy。　Pictur'　itto　yourselves　as　it　comes　cryin'　to　its　mother　an'　says：

'〃Ma！　Gi'　me　a　piece　o'　bread　an'　butter。〃

'She　covers　her　face　with　her　apron　an'　says　she；　〃There　am　none　left；　my　child。〃

'An'　bime　bye　the　child　comes　agin'　an'　holds　up　its　poor　little　han's　an'　says：　〃Ma！　please　gi'　me　a　piece　O'　cake。〃

'An'　she　goes　an'　looks　out　O'　the　winder；　er　mebbe　pokes　the　fire；　an'　says：　〃There　am'　none　left；　my　child。〃

'An'　bime　bye　it　comes　agin'　an'　it　says：　〃Please　gi'　me　a　little　piece　O'　pie。〃

'An'　she　mebbe　flops　into　a　chair　an'　says；　sobbin'；　〃There　ain'　none　left；　my　child。〃

'No　pie！　Now；　Mr　Chairman！'　exclaimed　the　orator；　as　he　lifted　both　hands　high　above　his　head；　'If　this　ain't　misery；　in　God's　name；　what　is　it？

'Years　ago；　when　I　was　a　young　man；　Mr　President；　I　went　to　a　dance　one　night　at　the　village　of　Migleyville。　I　got　a　toothache；　an'　the　Devil　tempted　me　with　whiskey；　an'　I　tuk　one　glass　an'　then　another　an'　purty　soon　I　began　t'　thank　I　was　a　mighty　hefty　sort　of　a　character；　I　did；　an'　I　stud　on　a　comer　an'　stumped　everybody　t'　fight　with　me；　an'　bime　bye　an　accomanodatin'　kind　of　a　chap　come　along；　an'　that's　all　I　remember　O'　what　happened。　when　I　come　to；　my　coat　tails　had　been　tore　off；　I'd　lost　one　leg　O'　my　trousers；　a　bran　new　silver　watch；　tew　dollars　in　money；　an　a　pair　O'　spectacles。　When　I　stud　up　an'　tried　t'　realise　what　hed　happened　I　felt　jes'　like　a　blind　rooster　with　only　one　leg　an'　no　tail　feathers。'

A　roar　of　laughter　followed　these　frank　remarks　of　Mr　Tupper　and　broke　into　a　storm　of　merriment　when　Uncle　Eb　rose　and　said：

'Mr　President；　I　hope　you　see　that　the　misfortunes　of　our　friend　was　due　t'　war；　an'　not　to　intemperance。'

Mr　Tupper　was　unhorsed。　For　some　minutes　he　stood　helpless　or　shaking　with　the　emotion　that　possessed　all。　Then　he　finished　lamely　and　sat　down。

The　narrowness　of　the　man　that　saw　so　much　where　there　was　so　little　in　his　own　experience　and　in　the　trivial　events　of　his　own　township　was　what　I　now　recognise　as　most　valuable　to　the　purpose　of　this　history。　It　was　a　narrowness　that　covered　a　multitude　of　people　in　St　Lawrence　county　in　those　days。

Jed　Feary　was　greeted　with　applause　and　then　by　respectfiil　silence　when　he　rose　to　speak。　The　fame　of　his　verse　and　his　learning　had　gone　far　beyond　the　narrow　boundaries　of　the　township　in　which　he　lived。　It　was　the　biggest　thing　in　the　county。　Many　a　poor　sinner　who　had　gone　out　of　Faraway　to　his　long　home　got　his　first　praise　in　the　obituary　poem　by　Jed　Feary。　These　tributes　were　generally　published　in　the　county　paper　and　paid　for　by　the　relatives　of　the　deceased　at　the　rate　of　a　dollar　a　day　for　the　time　spent　on　them；　or　by　a　few　days　of　board　and　lodging　glory　and　consolation　that　was；　alas！　too　cheap；　as　one　might　see　by　a　glance　at　his　forlorn　figure。　I　shall　never　forget　the　courtly　manner；　so　strangely　in　contrast　with　the　rude　deportment　of　other　men　in　that　place；　with　which　he　addressed　the　chairman　and　the　people。　The　drawling　dialect　of　the　vicinity　that　flavoured　his　conversation　fell　from　him　like　a　mantle　as　he　spoke　and