the friendly road-第13章

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　the　true　object　of　my　journeying；　but　that　it　might　be　full　of　amusing　and　interesting　adventures。　Straightway　I　got　my　notebook　out　of　my　bag　and；　sitting　down　near　the　roadside；　wrote　my　letter。　I　wrote　it　as　though　my　life　depended　upon　it；　with　the　intent　of　making　some　one　household　there　in　the　hills　feel　at　least　a　little　wave　of　warmth　and　sympathy　from　the　great　world　that　was　passing　in　the　road　below。　I　tried　to　prove　the　validity　of　a　kindly　thought　with　no　selling　device　attached　to　it；　I　tried　to　make　it　such　a　word　of　frank　companionship　as　I　myself；　working　in　my　own　fields；　would　like　to　receive。

Among　the　letter…boxes　in　the　group；　was　one　that　stood　a　little　detached　and　behind　the　others；　as　though　shrinking　from　such　prosperous　company。　It　was　made　of　unpainted　wood；　with　leather　hinges；　and　looked　shabby　in　comparison　with　the　jaunty　red；　green；　and　gray　paint　of　some　of　the　other　boxes　（with　their　cocky　little　metallic　flags　upraised）。　It　bore　the　good　American　name　of　ClarkT。　N。　Clarkand　it　seemed　to　me　that　I　could　tell　something　of　the　Clarks　by　the　box　at　the　crossing。

〃I　think　they　need　a　friendly　word；〃　I　said　to　myself。

So　I　wrote　the　name　T。　N。　Clark　on　my　envelope　and　put　the　letter　in　his　box。

It　was　with　a　sense　of　joyous　adventure　that　I　now　turned　aside　into　the　sandy　road　and　climbed　the　hill。　My　mind　busied　itself　with　thinking　how　I　should　carry　out　my　experiment；　how　I　should　approach　these　Clarks；　and　how　and　what　they　were。　A　thousand　ways　I　pictured　to　myself　the　receipt　of　the　letter：　it　would　at　least　be　something　new　for　them；　something　just　a　little　disturbing；　and　I　was　curious　to　see　whether　it　might　open　the　rift　of　wonder　wide　enough　to　let　me　slip　into　their　lives。

I　have　often　wondered　why　it　is　that　men　should　be　so　fearful　of　new　ventures　in　social　relationships；　when　I　have　found　them　so　fertile；　so　enjoyable。　Most　of　us　fear　（actually　fear）　people　who　differ　from　ourselves；　either　up　or　down　the　scale。　Your　Edison　pries　fearlessly　into　the　intimate　secrets　of　matter；　your　Marconi　employs　the　mysterious　properties　of　the　〃jellied　ether；〃　but　let　a　man　seek　to　experiment　with　the　laws　of　that　singular　electricity　which　connects　you　and　me　（though　you　be　a　millionaire　and　I　a　ditch…digger）；　and　we　think　him　a　wild　visionary；　an　academic　person。　I　think　sometimes　that　the　science　of　humanity　to…day　is　in　about　the　state　of　darkness　that　the　natural　sciences　were　when　Linneus　and　Cuvier　and　Lamarck　began　groping　for　the　great　laws　of　natural　unity。　Most　of　the　human　race　is　still　groaning　under　the　belief　that　each　of　us　is　a　special　and　unrelated　creation；　just　as　men　for　ages　saw　no　relationships　between　the　fowls　of　the　air；　the　beasts　of　the　field；　and　the　fish　of　the　sea。　But；　thank　God；　we　are　beginning　to　learn　that　unity　is　as　much　a　law　of　life　as　selfish　struggle；　and　love　a　more　vital　force　than　avarice　or　lust　of　power　or　place。　A　Wandering　Carpenter　knew　it；　and　taught　it；　twenty　centuries　ago。

〃The　next　house　beyond　the　ridge；〃　said　the　toothless　old　woman；　pointing　with　a　long　finger；　〃is　the　Clarks'。　You　can't　miss　it；〃　and　I　thought　she　looked　at　me　oddly。

I　had　been　walking　briskly　for　some　three　miles；　and　it　was　with　keen　expectation　that　I　now　mounted　the　ridge　and　saw　the　farm　for　which　I　was　looking；　lying　there　in　the　valley　before　me。　It　was　altogether　a　wild　and　beautiful　bit　of　countrystunted　cedars　on　the　knolls　of　the　rolling　hills；　a　brook　trailing　its　way　among　alders　and　willows　down　a　long　valley；　and　shaggy　old　fields　smiling　in　the　sun。　As　I　came　nearer　I　could　see　that　the　only　disharmony　in　the　valley　was　the　work　（or　idleness）　of　men。　A　broken　mowing…machine　stood　in　the　field　where　it　had　been　left　the　summer　before；　rusty　and　forlorn；　and　dead　weeds　marked　the　edges　of　a　field　wherein　the　spring　ploughing　was　now　only　half　done。　The　whole　farmstead；　indeed；　looked　tired。　As　for　the　house　and　barn；　they　had　reached　that　final　stage　of　decay　in　which　the　best　thing　that　could　be　said　of　them　was　that　they　were　picturesque。　Everything　was　as　different　from　the　farm　of　the　energetic　and　joyous　Stanleys；　whose　work　I　had　shared　only　a　few　days　before；　as　anything　that　could　be　imagined。

Now；　my　usual　way　of　getting　into　step　with　people　is　simplicity　itself。　I　take　off　my　coat　and　go　to　work　with　them　and　the　first　thing　I　know　we　have　become　first…rate　friends。　One　doesn't　dream　of　the　possibilities　of　companionship　in　labour　until　he　has　tried　it。

But　how　shall　one　get　into　step　with　a　man　who　is　not　stepping？

On　the　porch　of　the　farmhouse；　there　in　the　mid…afternoon；　a　man　sat　idly；　and　children　were　at　play　in　the　yard。　I　went　in　at　the　gate；　not　knowing　in　the　least　what　I　should　say　or　do；　but　determined　to　get　hold　of　the　problem　somewhere。　As　I　approached　the　step；　I　swung　my　bag　from　my　shoulder。

〃Don't　want　to　buy　nothin'；〃　said　the　man。

〃Well；〃　said　I；　〃that　is　fortunate；　for　I　have　nothing　to　sell。　But　you've　got　something　I　want。〃

He　looked　at　me　dully。

〃What's　that？〃

〃A　drink　of　water。〃

Scarcely　moving　his　head；　he　called　to　a　shy　older　girl　who　had　just　appeared　in　the　doorway。

〃Mandy；　bring　a　dipper　of　water。〃

As　I　stood　there　the　children　gathered　curiously　around　me；　and　the　man　continued　to　sit　in　his　chair；　saying　absolutely　nothing；　a　picture　of　dull　discouragement。

〃How　they　need　something　to　stir　them　up；〃　I　thought。

When　I　had　emptied　the　dipper；　I　sat　down　on　the　top　step　of　the　porch；　and；　without　saying　a　word　to　the　man；　placed　my　bag　beside　me　and　began　to　open　it。　The　shy　girl　paused；　dipper　in　hand；　the　children　stood　on　tiptoe；　and　even　the　man　showed　signs　of　curiosity。　With　studied　deliberation　I　took　out　two　books　I　had　with　me　and　put　them　on　the　porch；　then　I　proceeded　to　rummage　for　a　long　time　in　the　bottom　of　the　bag　as　though　I　could　not　find　what　I　wanted。　Every　eye　was　glued　upon　me；　and　I　even　heard　the　step　of　Mrs。　Clark　as　she　came　to　the　but　I　did　not　look　up　or　speak。　Finally　I　pulled　out　my　tin　whistle　and；　leaning　back　against　the　porch　column；　placed　it　to　my　lips；　and　began　playing　in　Tom　Madison's　best　style　（eyes　half　closed；　one　toe　tapping　to　the　music；　head　nodding；　fingers　lifted　high　from　the　stops）；　I　began　playing　〃Money　Musk；〃　and　〃Old　Dan　Tucker。〃　Oh；　I　put　vim　into　it；　I　can　tell　you！　And　bad　as　my　playing　was；　I　had　from　the　start　an　absorption　of　attention　from　my　audience　that　Paderewski　himself　might　have　envied。　I　wound　up　with　a　lively　trill　in　the　high　notes　and　took　my　whistle　from　my　lips　with　a　hearty　laugh；　for　the　whole　thing　had　been　downright　good　fun；　the　playing　itself；　the　make…believe　which　went　with　it；　the　surprise　and　interest　in　the　children's　faces；　the　slow…breaking　smile　of　the　little　girl　with　the　dipper。

〃I'll　warrant　you；　madam；〃　I　said　to　the　woman　who　now　stood　frankly　in　the　doorway　with　her　hands　wrapped　in　her　apron；　〃you　haven't　heard　those　tunes　since　you　were　a　girl　and　danced　to　'em。〃

〃You're　right；〃　she　responded　heartily。

〃I'll　give　you　another　jolly　one；〃。I　said；　and；　replacing　my。　whistle；　I　began　with　even　greater　zest　to　play　〃Yankee　Doodle。〃

When　I　had　gone　through　it　half　a　dozen　times　with　such　added　variations　and　trills　as　I　could　command；　and　had　two　of　the　children　hopping　about　in　the　yard；　and　the　forlorn　man　tapping　his　toe　to　the　tune；　and　a　smile　on　the　face　of　the　forlorn　woman；　I　wound　up　with　a　rush　and　then；　as　if　I　could　hold　myself　in　no　longer　（and　I　couldn't　either！）；　I　suddenly　burst　out：

Yankee　doodle　dandy！　Yankee　doodle　dandy！　Mind　the　music　and　the　step；　And　with　the　girls　be　handy。


It　may　seem　surprising；　but　I　think　I　can　understand　why　it　waswhen　I　looked　up　at　the　woman　in　the　doorway　there　were　tears　in　her　eyes！

〃Do　you　know　'John　Brown's　Body'？〃　eagerly　inquired　the　little　girl　with　the　dipper；　and　then；　as　if　she　had　done　something　quite　bold　and　improper；　she　blushed　and　edged　toward　the　doorway。

〃How　does　it　go？〃　I　asked；　and　one　of　the　bold　lads　in　the　yard　instantly　puckered　his　lips　to　show　me；　and　immediately　they　were　all　trying　it。

〃Here　goes；〃　said　I；　and　for　the　next　few　minutes；　and　in　my　very　best　style；　I　hung　Jeff　Davis　on　the　sour　apple…tree；　and　I　sent　the　soul　of　John　Brown　marching　onward　with　an　altogether　unnecessary　number　of　hallelujahs。

I　think　sometimes　that　peoplewhole　families　of　'emliterally　perish　for　want　of　a　good；　hearty；　whole…souled；　mouth…opening；　throat…stretching；　side…aching　laugh。　They　begin　to　think　themselves　the　abused　of　creation；　they　begin　to　advise　with　their　livers　and　to　hate　their　neighbours；　and　the　whole　world　becomes　a　miserable　dark　blue　place　quite　unfit　for　human　habitation。　Well；　all　this　is　often　only　the　result　of　a　neglect　to　exercise　properly　those　muscles　of　the　body　（and　of　the　soul）　which　have　to　do　with　honest　laughter。

I've　never　supposed　I　was　an　especially　amusing　person；　but　before　I　got　through　with　it　I　had　the　Clark　family　well　loosened　up　with　laughter；　although　I　wasn't　quite　sure　some　of　the　time　whether　Mrs。　Clark　was　laughing　or　crying。　I　had　them　all　laughing　and　talking；　asking　questions　and　answering　them　as　though　I　were　an　old　and　valued　neighbour。

Isn't　it　odd　how　unconvinced　we　often　are　by　the　crises　in　the　lives　of　other　people？　They　seem　to　us　trivial　or　unimportant；　but　the　fact　is；　the　crises　in　the　life　of　a　boy；　for　example；　or　of　a　poor　man；　are　as　commanding　as　the　crises　in　the　life　of　the　greatest　statesman　or　millionaire；　for　they　involve　equally　the　whole　personality；　the　entire　prospects。

The　Clark　family；　I　soon　learned；　had　lost　its　pig。　A　trivial　matter；　you　say？　I　wonder　if　anything　is　ever　trivial。　A　year　of　poor　crops；　sickness；　low　prices；　discouragement　and；　at　the　end　of　it；　on　top　of　it　all；　the　cherished　pig　had　died！

From　all　accounts　（and　the　man　on　the　porch　quite　lost　his　apathy　in　telling　me　about　it）　it　must　have　been　a　pig　of　remarkable　virtues　and　attainments；　a　paragon　of　pigs　in　whom　had　been　bound　up　the　many　possibilities　of　new　shoes　for　the　children；　a　hat　for　the　lady；　a　new　pair　of　overalls　for　the　gentleman；　and　I　know　not　what　other　kindred　luxuries。　I　do　not　think；　indeed；　I　ever　had　the　portrait　of　a　pig　drawn　for　me　with　quite　such　ardent　enthusiasm　of　detail；　and　the　more　questions　I　asked　the　more　eager　the　story；　until　finally　it　became　necessary　for　me　to　go　to　the　barn；　the　cattle…pen；　the　pig…pen　and　the　chicken…house；　that　I　might　visualize　more　clearly　the　scene　of　the　tragedy。　The　whole　family　trooped　after　us　like　a　classic　chorus；　but　Mr。　Clark　himself　kept　the　centre　of　the　stage。

How　plainly　I　could　read　upon　the　face　of　the　land　the　story　of　this　hill　farmer　and　his　meagre　existencehis　ill…directed　effort　to　wring　a　poor　living　for　his　family　from　these　upland　fields；　his　poverty；　and；　above　all；　his　evident　lack　of　knowledge　of　his　own　calling。　Added　to　these　things；　and　perhaps　the　most　depressing　of　all　his　difficulties；　was　the　utter　loneliness　of　the　task；　the　feeling　that　it　mattered　little　to　any　one　whether　the　Clark　family　worked　or　not；　or　indeed　whether　they　lived　or　died。　A　perfectly　good　American　family　was　here　being　wasted；　with　the　precious　land　they　lived　on；　be