the complete writings-4-第10章

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like　outlay　of　bread　cast　upon　the　waters；　his　wife　was　a　life　member　of　the　A。　B。　C。　F。　M。；　a　portion　of　the　alphabet　which　has　an　awful　significance　to　all　New　England　childhood。　　These　certificates　are　a　sort　of　receipt　in　full　for　charity；　and　are　a　constant　and　consoling　reminder　to　the　farmer　that　he　has　discharged　his　religious　duties。

There　was　a　fire　on　the　broad　hearth；　and　that；　with　the　tallow　candles　on　the　mantelpiece；　made　quite　an　illumination　in　the　room；　and　enabled　the　boys；　who　were　mostly　on　one　side　of　the　room；　to　see　the　girls；　who　were　on　the　other；　quite　plainly。　　How　sweet　and　demure　the　girls　looked；　to　be　sure！　　Every　boy　was　thinking　if　his　hair　was　slick；　and　feeling　the　full　embarrassment　of　his　entrance　into　fashionable　life。　　It　was　queer　that　these　children；　who　were　so　free　everywhere　else；　should　be　so　constrained　now；　and　not　know　what　to　do　with　themselves。　　The　shooting　of　a　spark　out　upon　the　carpet　was　a　great　relief；　and　was　accompanied　by　a　deal　of　scrambling　to　throw　it　back　into　the　fire；　and　caused　much　giggling。　　It　was　only　gradually　that　the　formality　was　at　all　broken；　and　the　young　people　got　together　and　found　their　tongues。

John　at　length　found　himself　with　Cynthia　Rudd；　to　his　great　delight　and　considerable　embarrassment；　for　Cynthia；　who　was　older　than　John；　never　looked　so　pretty。　　To　his　surprise　he　had　nothing　to　say　to　her。　　They　had　always　found　plenty　to　talk　about　beforebut　now　nothing　that　he　could　think　of　seemed　worth　saying　at　a　party。

〃It　is　a　pleasant　evening；〃　said　John。

〃It　is　quite　so；〃　replied　Cynthia。

〃Did　you　come　in　a　cutter？〃　　asked　John　anxiously。

〃No；　I　walked　on　the　crust；　and　it　was　perfectly　lovely　walking；〃　said　Cynthia；　in　a　burst　of　confidence。

〃Was　it　slippery？〃　　continued　John。

〃Not　very。〃

John　hoped　it　would　be　slipperyverywhen　he　walked　home　with　Cynthia；　as　he　determined　to　do；　but　he　did　not　dare　to　say　so；　and　the　conversation　ran　aground　again。　　John　thought　about　his　dog　and　his　sled　and　his　yoke　of　steers；　but　he　didn't　see　any　way　to　bring　them　into　conversation。　　Had　she　read　the　〃Swiss　Family　Robinson〃？　Only　a　little　ways。　　John　said　it　was　splendid；　and　he　would　lend　it　to　her；　for　which　she　thanked　him；　and　said；　with　such　a　sweet　expression；　she　should　be　so　glad　to　have　it　from　him。　　That　was　encouraging。

And　then　John　asked　Cynthia　if　she　had　seen　Sally　Hawkes　since　the　husking　at　their　house；　when　Sally　found　so　many　red　ears；　and　didn't　she　think　she　was　a　real　pretty　girl。

〃Yes；　she　was　right　pretty；〃　and　Cynthia　guessed　that　Sally　knew　it　pretty　well。　　But　did　John　like　the　color　of　her　eyes？

No；　John　didn't　like　the　color　of　her　eyes　exactly。

〃Her　mouth　would　be　well　enough　if　she　did　n't　laugh　so　much　and　show　her　teeth。〃

John　said　her　mouth　was　her　worst　feature。

〃Oh；　no；〃　said　Cynthia　warmly；　〃her　mouth　is　better　than　her　nose。〃

John　did　n't　know　but　it　was　better　than　her　nose；　and　he　should　like　her　looks　better　if　her　hair　was　n't　so　dreadful　black。

But　Cynthia；　who　could　afford　to　be　generous　now；　said　she　liked　black　hair；　and　she　wished　hers　was　dark。　　Whereupon　John　protested　that　he　liked　light　hairauburn　hairof　all　things。

And　Cynthia　said　that　Sally　was　a　dear；　good　girl；　and　she　did　n't　believe　one　word　of　the　story　that　she　only　really　found　one　red　ear　at　the　husking　that　night；　and　hid　that　and　kept　pulling　it　out　as　if　it　were　a　new　one。

And　so　the　conversation；　once　started；　went　on　as　briskly　as　possible　about　the　paring…bee；　and　the　spelling…school；　and　the　new　singing…　master　who　was　coming；　and　how　Jack　Thompson　had　gone　to　Northampton　to　be　a　clerk　in　a　store；　and　how　Elvira　Reddington；　in　the　geography　class　at　school；　was　asked　what　was　the　capital　of　Massachusetts；　and　had　answered　〃Northampton；〃　and　all　the　school　laughed。　　John　enjoyed　the　conversation　amazingly；　and　he　half　wished　that　he　and　Cynthia　were　the　whole　of　the　party。

But　the　party　had　meantime　got　into　operation；　and　the　formality　was　broken　up　when　the　boys　and　girls　had　ventured　out　of　the　parlor　into　the　more　comfortable　living…room；　with　its　easy…chairs　and　everyday　things；　and　even　gone　so　far　as　to　penetrate　the　kitchen　in　their　frolic。　　As　soon　as　they　forgot　they　were　a　party；　they　began　to　enjoy　themselves。

But　the　real　pleasure　only　began　with　the　games。　　The　party　was　nothing　without　the　games；　and；　indeed；　it　was　made　for　the　games。　Very　likely　it　was　one　of　the　timid　girls　who　proposed　to　play　something；　and　when　the　ice　was　once　broken；　the　whole　company　went　into　the　business　enthusiastically。　　There　was　no　dancing。　　We　should　hope　not。　　Not　in　the　deacon's　house；　not　with　the　deacon's　daughters；　nor　anywhere　in　this　good　Puritanic　society。　　Dancing　was　a　sin　in　itself；　and　no　one　could　tell　what　it　would　lead　to。　　But　there　was　no　reason　why　the　boys　and　girls　shouldn't　come　together　and　kiss　each　other　during　a　whole　evening　occasionally。　　Kissing　was　a　sign　of　peace；　and　was　not　at　all　like　taking　hold　of　hands　and　skipping　about　to　the　scraping　of　a　wicked　fiddle。

In　the　games　there　was　a　great　deal　of　clasping　hands；　of　going　round　in　a　circle；　of　passing　under　each　other's　elevated　arms；　of　singing　about　my　true　love；　and　the　end　was　kisses　distributed　with　more　or　less　partiality；　according　to　the　rules　of　the　play；　but；　thank　Heaven；　there　was　no　fiddler。　　John　liked　it　all；　and　was　quite　brave　about　paying　all　the　forfeits　imposed　on　him；　even　to　the　kissing　all　the　girls　in　the　room；　but　he　thought　he　could　have　amended　that　by　kissing　a　few　of　them　a　good　many　times　instead　of　kissing　them　all　once。

But　John　was　destined　to　have　a　damper　put　upon　his　enjoyment。　　They　were　playing　a　most　fascinating　game；　in　which　they　all　stand　in　a　circle　and　sing　a　philandering　song；　except　one　who　is　in　the　center　of　the　ring；　and　holds　a　cushion。　　At　a　certain　word　in　the　song；　the　one　in　the　center　throws　the　cushion　at　the　feet　of　some　one　in　the　ring；　indicating　thereby　the　choice　of　a　〃mate〃　and　then　the　two　sweetly　kneel　upon　the　cushion；　like　two　meek　angels；　andand　so　forth。　　Then　the　chosen　one　takes　the　cushion　and　the　delightful　play　goes　on。　　It　is　very　easy；　as　it　will　be　seen；　to　learn　how　to　play　it。　　Cynthia　was　holding　the　cushion；　and　at　the　fatal　word　she　threw　it　down；　not　before　John；　but　in　front　of　Ephraim　Leggett。　　And　they　two　kneeled；　and　so　forth。　　John　was　astounded。　　He　had　never　conceived　of　such　perfidy　in　the　female　heart。　　He　felt　like　wiping　Ephraim　off　the　face　of　the　earth；　only　Ephraim　was　older　and　bigger　than　he。　　When　it　came　his　turn　at　length；thanks　to　a　plain　little　girl　for　whose　admiration　he　did　n't　care　a　straw；he　threw　the　cushion　down　before　Melinda　Mayhew　with　all　the　devotion　he　could　muster；　and　a　dagger　look　at　Cynthia。　　And　Cynthia's　perfidious　smile　only　enraged　him　the　more。　　John　felt　wronged；　and　worked　himself　up　to　pass　a　wretched　evening。

When　supper　came；　he　never　went　near　Cynthia；　and　busied　himself　in　carrying　different　kinds　of　pie　and　cake；　and　red　apples　and　cider；　to　the　girls　he　liked　the　least。　　He　shunned　Cynthia；　and　when　he　was　accidentally　near　her；　and　she　asked　him　if　he　would　get　her　a　glass　of　cider；　he　rudely　told　herlike　a　goose　as　he　wasthat　she　had　better　ask　Ephraim。　　That　seemed　to　him　very　smart；　but　he　got　more　and　more　miserable；　and　began　to　feel　that　he　was　making　himself　ridiculous。

Girls　have　a　great　deal　more　good　sense　in　such　matters　than　boys。　Cynthia　went　to　John；　at　length；　and　asked　him　simply　what　the　matter　was。　　John　blushed；　and　said　that　nothing　was　the　matter。　　Cynthia　said　that　it　wouldn't　do　for　two　people　always　to　be　together　at　a　party；　and　so　they　made　up；　and　John　obtained　permission　to　〃see〃　Cynthia　home。

It　was　after　half…past　nine　when　the　great　festivities　at　the　Deacon's　broke　up；　and　John　walked　home　with　Cynthia　over　the　shining　crust　and　under　the　stars。　　It　was　mostly　a　silent　walk；　for　this　was　also　an　occasion　when　it　is　difficult　to　find　anything　fit　to　say。　And　John　was　thinking　all　the　way　how　he　should　bid　Cynthia　good…　night；　whether　it　would　do　and　whether　it　wouldn't　do；　this　not　being　a　game；　and　no　forfeits　attaching　to　it。　　When　they　reached　the　gate；　there　was　an　awkward　little　pause。　　John　said　the　stars　were　uncommonly　bright。　　Cynthia　did　not　deny　it；　but　waited　a　minute　and　then　turned　abruptly　away；　with　〃Good…night；　John！〃

〃Good…night；　Cynthia！〃

And　the　party　was　over；　and　Cynthia　was　gone；　and　John　went　home　in　a　kind　of　dissatisfaction　with　himself。

It　was　long　before　he　could　go　to　sleep　for　thinking　of　the　new　world　opened　to　him；　and　imagining　how　he　would　act　under　a　hundred　different　circumstances；　and　what　he　would　say；　and　what　Cynthia　would　say；　but　a　dream　at　length　came；　and　led　him　away　to　a　great　city　and　a　brilliant　house；　and　while　he　was　there；　he　heard　a　loud　rapping　on　the　under　floor；　and　saw　that　it　was　daylight。




XIV

THE　SUGAR　CAMP

I　think　there　is　no　part　of　farming　the　boy　enjoys　more　than　the　making　of　maple　sugar；　it　is　better　than　〃blackberrying；〃　and　nearly　as　good　as　fishing。　　And　one　reason　he　likes　this　work　is；　that　somebody　else　does　the　most　of　it。　　It　is　a　sort　of　work　in　which　he　can　appear　to　be　very　active；　and　yet　not　do　much。

And　it　exactly　suits　the　temperament　of　a　real　boy　to　be　very　busy　about　nothing。　　If　the　power；　for　instance；　that　is　expended　in　play　by　a　boy　between　the　ages　of　eight　and　fourteen　could　be　applied　to　some　industry；　we　should　see　wonderful　results。　　But　a　boy　is　like　a　galvanic　battery　that　is　not　in　connection　with　anything；　he　generates　electricity　and　plays　it　off　into　the　air　with　the　most　reckless　prodigality。　　And　I；　for　one；　would　n't　have　it　otherwise。　It　is　as　much　a　boy's　business　to　play　off　his　energies　into　space　as　it　is　for　a　flower　to　blow；　or　a　catbird　to　sing　snatches　of　the　tunes　of　all　the　other　birds。

In　my　day　maple…sugar…making　used　to　be　something　between　picnicking　and　being　shipwrecked　on　a　fertile　island；　where　one　should　save　from　the　wreck　tubs　and　augers；　and　great　kettles　and　pork；　and　hen's　eggs　and　rye…and…indian　bread；　and　begin　at　once　to　lead　the　sweetest　life　in　the　world。　　I　am　told　that　it　is　something　different　nowadays；　and　that　there　is　more　desire　to　save　the　sap；　and　make　good；　pure　sugar；　and　sell　it　for　a　large　price；　than　there　used　to　be；　and　that　the　old　fun　and　picturesqueness　of　the　business　are　pretty　much　gone。　　I　am　told　that　it　is　the　custom　to　carefully　collect　the　sap　and　bring　it　to　the　house；　where　there　are　built　brick　arches；　over　which　it　is　evaporated　in　shallow　pans；　and　that　pains　is　taken　to　keep　the　leaves；　sticks；　and　ashes　and　coals　out　of　it；　and　that　the　sugar　is　clarified；　and　that；　in　short；　it　is　a　money…making　business；　in　which　there　is　very　little　fun；　and　that　the　boy　is　not　allowed　to　dip　his　paddle　into　the　kettle　of　boiling　sugar　and　lick　off　the　delicious　sirup。　　The　prohibition　may　improve　the　sugar；　but　it　is　cruel　to　the　boy。

As　I　remember　the　New　England　boy　（and　I　am　very　intimate　with　one）；　he　used　to　be　on　the　qui　vive　in　the　spring　for　the　sap　to　begin　running。　　I　think　he　discovered　it　as　soon　as　anybody。　　Perhaps　he　knew　it　by　a　feeling　o