a new england girlhood-第4章

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stretch；　the　path　suddenly　took　an　abrupt　turn；　widening　into　a　cart　road；　then　to　a　tumble…down　wharf；　and　there　was　the　river！

An　〃arm　of　the　sea〃　I　was　told　that　our　river　was；　and　it　did　seem　to　reach　around　the　town　and　hold　it　in　a　liquid　embrace。　Twice　a　day　the　tide　came　in　and　filled　its　muddy　bed　with　a　sparkling　flood。　So　it　was　a　river　only　half　the　time；　but　at　high　tide　it　was　a　river　indeed；　all　that　a　child　could　wish；　with　its　boats　and　its　sloops；　and　now　and　then　that　most　available　craft　for　a　crew　of　childrena　gundalow。　We　easily　transformed　the　spelling　into　〃gondola；〃　and　in　fancy　were　afloat　on　Venetian　waters；　under　some　overhanging　balcony；　perhaps　at　the　very　Palace　of　the　Doges；willingly　blind　to　the　reality　of　a　mudscow　leaning　against　some　rickety　wharf　posts；　covered　with　barnacles。

Sometimes　a　neighbor　boy　who　was　the　fortunate　owner　of　a　boat　would　row　us　down　the　river　a　fearful；　because　a　forbidden；　joy。　The　widening　waters　made　us　tremble　with　dread　and　longing　for　what　might　be　beyond；　for　when　we　had　passed　under　the　piers　of　the　bridge；　the　estuary　broadened　into　the　harbor　and　the　open　sea。　Then　somebody　on　board　would　tell　a　story　of　children　who　had　drifted　away　beyond　the　harbor…bar　and　the　light…house；　and　were　drowned；　and　our　boyish　helmsman　would　begin　to　look　grave　and　anxious；　and　would　turn　his　boat　and　row　us　back　swiftly　to　the　safe　gundalow　and　tumbledown　wharf。

The　cars　rush　into　the　station　now；　right　over　our　riverside　playground。　I　can　often　hear　the　mirthful　shout　of　boys　and　girls　under　the　shriek　of　the　steam　whistle。　No　dream　of　a　railroad　had　then　come　to　the　quiet　old　town；　but　it　was　a　wild　train　of　children　that　ran　homeward　in　the　twilight　up　the　narrow　lane；　with　wind…shod　feet；　and　hair　flying　like　the　manes　of　young　colts；　and　light　hearts　bounding　to　their　own　footsteps。　How　good　and　dear　our　plain；　two…story　dwelling…house　looked　to　us　as　we　came　in　sight　of　it；　and　what　sweet　odors　stole　out　to　meet　us　from　the　white…fenced　inclosure　of　our　small　garden；from　peach…　trees　and　lilac…bushes　in　bloom；　from　bergamot　and　balm　and　beds　of　camomile！

Sometimes　we　would　find　the　pathetic　figure　of　white…haired　Larkin　Moore；　the　insane　preacher；　his　two　canes　lain　aside；　waiting；　in　our　dooryard　for　any　audience　that　he　could　gather：　boys　and　girls　were　as　welcome　as　anybody。　He　would　seat　us　in　a　row　on　the　green　slope；　and　give　us　a　half　hour　or　so　of　incoherent　exhortation；　to　which　we　attended　respectfully；　if　not　reverently；　for　his　whole　manner　showed　that；　though　demented；　he　was　deeply　in　earnest。　He　seemed　there　in　the　twilight　like　a　dazed　angel　who　had　lost　his　way；　and　had　half　forgotten　his　errand；　which　yet　he　must　try　to　tell　to　anybody　who　would　listen。

I　have　heard　my　mother　say　that　sometimes　he　would　ask　if　he　might　take　her　baby　in　his　arms　and　sing　to　it；　and　that　though　she　was　half　afraid　herself；　the　babyI　like　to　fancy　I　was　that　babyseemed　to　enjoy　it；　and　played　gleefully　with　the　old　man's　flowing　gray　locks。

Good　Larkin　Moore　was　well　known　through　the　two　neighboring　counties；　Essex　and　Middlesex。　We　saw　him　afterward　on　the　banks　of　the　Merrimack。　He　always　wore　a　loose　calico　tunic　over　his　trousers；　and；　when　the　mood　came　upon　him；　he　started　off　with　two　canes；seeming　to　think　he　could　travel　faster　as　a　quadruped　than　as　a　biped。　He　was　entirely　harmless；　his　only　wish　was　to　preach　or　to　sing。

A　characteristic　anecdote　used　to　be　told　of　him：　that　once；　as　a　stage…coach　containing；　only　a　few　passengers　passed　him　on　the　road；　he　asked　the　favor　of　a　seat　on　the　top；　and　was　refused。　There　were　many　miles　between　him　and　his　destination。　But　he　did　not　upbraid　the　ungracious　driver；　he　only　swung　his　two　canes　a　little　more　briskly；　and　kept　breast　of　the　horses　all　the　way；　entering　the　town　side　by　side　with　the　inhospitable　vehiclesa　running　reproach　to　the　churl　on　the　box。

There　was　another　wanderer；　a　blind　woman；　whom　my　mother　treated　with　great　respect　on　her　annual　pilgrimages。　She　brought　with　her　some　printed　rhymes　to　sell；　purporting　to　be　composed　by　herself；　and　beginning　with　the　verse：

〃I；　Nancy　Welsh；　was　born　and　bred　In　Essex　County；　Marblehead。　And　when　I　was　an　infant　quite　The　Lord　deprived　me　of　my　sight。〃

I　labored　under　the　delusion　that　blindness　was　a　sort　of　insanity；　and　I　used　to　run　away　when　this　pilgrim　came；　for　she　was　not　talkative　like　Larkin　Moore。　I　fancied　she　disliked　children；　and　so　I　shrank　from　her。

There　were　other　odd　estrays　going　about；　who　were　either　well　known；　or　could　account　for　them　selves。　The　one　human　phenomenon　that　filled　us　little　ones　with　mortal　terror　was　an　unknown　〃man　with　a　pack　on　his　back。〃　I　do　not　know　what　we　thought　he　would　do　with　us；　but　the　sight　of　one　always　sent　us　breathless　with　fright　to　the　shelter　of　the　maternal　wing。　I　did　not　at　all　like　the　picture　of　Christian　on　his　way　to　the　wicket…gate；　in　〃Pilgrim's　Progress；〃　before　I　had　read　the　book；　because　he　had　〃a　pack　on　his　back。〃　But　there　was　really　nothing　to　be　afraid　of　in　those　simple；　honest　old　times。　I　suppose　we　children　would　not　have　known　how　happy　and　safe　we　were；　in　our　secluded　lane；　if　we　had　not　conjured　up　a　few　imaginary　fears。

Long　as　it　is　since　the　rural　features　of　our　lane　were　entirely　obliterated；　my　feet　often　go　back　and　press；　in　memory；　its　grass…grown　borders；　and　in　delight　and　liberty　I　am　a　child　again。　Its　narrow　limits　were　once　my　whole　known　world。　Even　then　it　seemed　to　me　as　if　it　might　lead　everywhere；　and　it　was　indeed　but　the　beginning　of　a　road　which　must　lengthen　and　widen　beneath　my　feet　forever。

II。

SCHOOLROOM　AND　MEETING…HOUSE。

THERE　were　only　two　or　three　houses　between　ours　and　the　main　street；　and　then　our　lane　came　out　directly　opposite　the　finest　house　in　town；　a　three…story　edifice　of　brick；　painted　white；　the　〃Colonel's〃　residence。　There　was　a　spacious　garden　behind　it；　from　which　we　caught　glimpses　and　perfumes　of　unknown　flowers。　Over　its　high　walls　hung　boughs　of　splendid　great　yellow　sweet　apples；　which；　when　they　fell　on　the　outside；　we　children　considered　as　our　perquisites。　When　I　first　read　about　the　apples　of　the　Hesperides；　my　idea　of　them　was　that　they　were　like　the　Colonel's　〃pumpkin…sweetings。〃

Beyond　the　garden　were　wide　green　fields　which　reached　eastward　down　to　the　beach。　It　was　one　of　those　large　old　estates　which　used　to　give　to　the　very　heart　of　our　New　England　coast　towns　a　delightful　breeziness　and　roominess。

A　coach…and…pair　was　one　of　the　appurtenances　of　this　estate；　with　a　coachman　on　the　box；　and　when　he　took　the　family　out　for　an　airing　we　small　children　thought　it　was　a　sort　of　Cinderella　spectacle；　prepared　expressly　for　us。

It　was　not；　however；　quite　so　interesting　as　the　Boston　stage　…　coach；　that　rolled　regularly　every　day　past　the　head　of　our　lane　into　and　out　of　its　headquarters；　a　big；　unpainted　stable　close　at　hand。　This　stage…coach；　in　our　minds；　meant　the　city；twenty　miles　off；　an　immeasurable　distance　to　us　then。　Even　our　elders　did　not　go　there　very　often。

In　those　early　days；　towns　used　to　give　each　other　nicknames；　like　schoolboys。　Ours　was　called　〃Bean…town〃　not　because　it　was　especially　devoted　to　the　cultivation　of　this　leguminous　edible；　but　probably　because　it　adhered　a　long　time　to　the　Puritanic　custom　of　saving　Sunday…work　by　baking　beans　on　Saturday　evening；　leaving　them　in　the　oven　over　night。　After　a　while；　as　families　left　off　heating　their　ovens；　the　bean…pots　were　taken　by　the　village　baker　on　Saturday　afternoon；　who　returned　them　to　each　house　early　on　Sunday　morning　with　the　pan　of　brown　bread　that　went　with　them。　The　jingling　of　the　baker's　bells　made　the　matter　a　public　one。

The　towns　through　which　our　stage…coach　passed　sometimes　called　it　the　〃bean…pot。〃　The　Jehn　who　drove　it　was　something　of　a　wag。　Once；　coming　through　Charlestown；　while　waiting　in　the　street　for　a　resident　passenger；　he　was　hailed　by　another　resident　who　thought　him　obstructing　the　passage；　with　the　shout；

〃Halloo　there！　Get　your　old　bean…pot　out　of　the　way！〃

〃I　will；　when　I　have　got　my　pork　in；〃　was　the　ready　reply。　What　the　sobriquet　of　Charlestown　was；　need　not　be　explained。

We　had　a　good　opportunity　to　watch　both　coaches；　as　my　father's　shop　was　just　at　the　head　of　the　lane；　and　we　went　to　school　up…　stairs　in　the　same　building。　After　he　left　off　going　to　sea；　before　my　birth；my　father　took　a　store　for　the　sale　of　what　used　to　be　called　〃West　India　goods；〃　and　various　other　domestic　commodities。

The　school　was　kept　by　a　neighbor　whom　everybody　called　〃Aunt　Hannah。〃　It　took　in　all　the　little　ones　about　us；　no　matter　how　young　they　were；　provided　they　could　walk　and　talk；　and　were　considered　capable　of　learning　their　letters。

A　ladder…like　flight　of　stairs　on　the　outside　of　the　house　led　up　to　the　schoolroom；　and　another　flight；　also　outside；　took　us　down　into　a　bit　of　a　garden；　where　grew　tansy　and　spearmint　and　southernwood　and　wormwood；　and；　among　other　old…fashioned　flowers；　an　abundance　of　many…tinted　four　o'clocks；　whose　regular　afternoon…opening　just　at　the　close　of　school；　was　a　daily　wonder　to　us　babies。　From　the　schoolroom　window　we　could　watch　the　slow　hands　of　the　town　clock　and　get　a　peep　at　what　was　going　on　in　the　street；　although　there　was　seldom　anybody　in　sight　except　the　Colonel's　gardener　or　coachman；　going　into　or　out　of　the　driveway　directly　opposite。　It　was　a　very　still　street；　the　front　windows　of　the　houses　were　generally　closed；　and　a　few　military…looking　Lombardy　poplars　stood　like　sentinels　on　guard　before　them。

Another　shopa　very　small　onejoined　my　father's；　where　three　shoemakers；　all　of　the　same　namethe　name　our　lane　went　bysat　at　their　benches　and　plied　their　〃waxed　ends。〃　One　of　them；　an　elderly　man；　tall　and　erect；　used　to　come　out　regularly　every　day；　and　stand　for　a　long　time　at　the　corner；　motionless　as　a　post；　with　his　nose　and　chin　pointing　skyward；　usually　to　the　northeast。　I　watched　his　face　with　wonder；　for　it　was　said　that　〃Uncle　John〃　was　〃weatherwise；〃　and　knew　all　the　secrets　of　the　heavens。

Aunt　Hannah's　schoolroom　and　〃our　shop〃　are　a　blended　memory　to　me。　As　I　was　only　a　baby　when　I　began　to　go　to　school；　I　was　often　sent　down…stairs　for　a　half　hour's　recreation　not　permitted　to　the　older　ones。　I　think　I　looked　upon　both　school　and　shop　entirely　as　places　of　entertainment　for　little　children。

The　front　shop…window　was　especially　interesting　to　us　children；　for　there　were　in　it　a　few　glass　jars　containing　sticks　of　striped　barley…candy；　and　red　and　white　peppermint…drops；　and　that　delectable　achievement　of　the　ancient　confectioner's　art；　the　〃Salem　gibraltar。〃　One　of　my　first　recollections　of　my　father　is　connected　with　that　window。　He　had　taken　me　into　the　shop　with　him　after　dinner；I　was　perhaps　two　years　old；and　I　was　playing　beside　him　on　the　counter　when　one　of　his　old　sea…　comrades　came　in；　whom　we　knew　as　〃Captain　Cross。〃　The　Captain　tried　to　make　friends　with　me；　and；　to　seal　the　bond；　asked　my　father　to　take　down　from　its　place　of　exhibition　a　strip　of　red　peppermints　dropped　on　white　paper；　in　a　style　I　particularly　admired；　which　he　twisted　around　my　neck；　saying；　〃Now　I've　bought　y