the friendly road-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



〃Got　another　basket　handy？〃　I　asked。

〃There　is　one　somewhere　around　here；〃　he　answered　not　too　cordially。　The　boy　said　nothing　at　all；　but　eyed　me　with　absorbing　interest。　The　gloomy　look　had　already　gone　from　his　face。

I　slipped　my　gray　bag　from　my　shoulder；　took　off　my　coat；　and　put　them　both　down　inside　the　fence。　Then　I　found　the　basket　and　began　to　fill　it　from　one　of　the　bags。　Both　man　and　boy　looked　up　at　me　questioningly。　I　enjoyed　the　situation　immensely。

〃I　heard　you　say　to　your　son；〃　I　said；　〃that　you'd　have　to　hurry　in　order　to　get　in　your　potatoes　to…day。　I　can　see　that　for　myself。　Let　me　take　a　hand　for　a　row　or　two。〃

The　unmistakable　shrewd　look　of　the　bargainer　came　suddenly　into　the　man's　face；　but　when　I　went　about　my　business　without　hesitation　or　questioning；　he　said　nothing　at　all。　As　for　the　boy；　the　change　in　his　countenance　was　marvellous　to　see。　Something　new　and　astonishing　had　come　into　the　world。　Oh；　I　know　what　a　thing　it　is　to　be　a　boy　and　to　work　in　trouting　time！

〃How　near　are　you　planting；　Ben？〃　I　asked。

〃About　fourteen　inches。〃

So　we　began　in　fine　spirits。　I　was　delighted　with　the　favourable　beginning　of　my　enterprise；　there　is　nothing　which　so　draws　men　together　as　their　employment　at　a　common　task。

Ben　was　a　lad　some　fifteen　years　old…very　stout　and　stocky；　with　a　fine　open　countenance　and　a　frank　blue　eyeall　boy。　His　nose　was　as　freckled　as　the　belly　of　a　trout。　The　whole　situation；　including　the　prospect　of　help　in　finishing　a　tiresome　job；　pleased　him　hugely。　He　stole　a　glimpse　from　time　to　time　at　me　then　at　his　father。　Finally　he　said：

〃Say；　you'll　have　to　step　lively　to　keep　up　with　dad。〃

〃I'll　show　you；〃　I　said；　〃how　we　used　to　drop　potatoes　when　I　was　a　boy。〃

And　with　that　I　began　to　step　ahead　more　quickly　and　make　the　pieces　fairly　fly。

〃We　old　fellows；〃　I　said　to　the　father；　〃must　give　these　young　sprouts　a　lesson　once　in　a　while。〃

〃You　will；　will　you？〃　responded　the　boy；　and　instantly　began　to　drop　the　potatoes　at　a　prodigious　speed。　The　father　followed　with　more　dignity；　but　with　evident　amusement；　and　so　we　all　came　with　a　rush　to　the　end　of　the　row。

〃I　guess　that　beats　the　record　across　THIS　field！〃　remarked　the　lad；　puffing　and　wiping　his　forehead。　〃Say；　but　you're　a　good　one！〃

It　gave　me　a　peculiar　thrill　of　pleasure；　there　is　nothing　more　pleasing　than　the　frank　admiration　of　a　boy。

We　paused　a　moment　and　I　said　to　the　man：　〃This　looks　like　fine　potato　land。〃

〃The'　ain't　any　better　in　these　parts；〃　he　replied　with　some　pride　in　his　voice。

And　so　we　went　at　the　planting　again：　and　as　we　planted　we　had　great　talk　of　seed　potatoes　and　the　advantages　and　disadvantages　of　mechanical　planters；　of　cultivating　and　spraying；　and　all　the　lore　of　prices　and　profits。　Once　we　stopped　at　the　lower　end　of　the　field　to　get　a　drink　from　a　jug　of　water　set　in　the　shade　of　a　fence　corner；　and　once　we　set　the　horse　in　the　thills　and　moved　the　seed　farther　up　the　field。　And　tired　and　hungry　as　I　felt　I　really　enjoyed　the　work；　I　really　enjoyed　talking　with　this　busy　father　and　son；　and　I　wondered　what　their　home　life　was　like　and　what　were　their　real　ambitions　and　hopes。　Thus　the　sun　sank　lower　and　lower；　the　long　shadows　began　to　creep　into　the　valleys；　and　we　came　finally　toward　the　end　of　the　field。　Suddenly　the　boy　Ben　cried　out：

〃There's　Sis！〃

I　glanced　up　and　saw　standing　near　the　gateway　a　slim；　bright　girl　of　about　twelve　in　a　fresh　gingham　dress。

〃We're　coming！〃　roared　Ben；　exultantly。

While　we　were　hitching　up　the　horse；　the　man　said　to　me：

〃You'll　come　down　with　us　and　have　some　supper。〃

〃Indeed　I　will；〃　I　replied；　trying　not　to　make　my　response　too　eager。

〃Did　mother　make　gingerbread　to…day？〃　I　heard　the　boy　whisper　audibly。

〃Sh…h〃　replied　the　girl；　〃who　is　that　man？〃

〃_I_　don't　know〃　with　a　great　accent　of　mystery〃and　dad　don't　know。　Did　mother　make　gingerbread？〃

〃Sh…hhe'll　hear　you。〃

〃Gee！　but　he　can　plant　potatoes。　He　dropped　down　on　us　out　of　a　clear　sky。〃

〃What　is　he？〃　she　asked。　〃A　tramp？〃

〃Nope；　not　a　tramp。　He　works。　But；　Sis；　did　mother　make　gingerbread？〃

So　we　all　got　into　the　light　wagon　and　drove　briskly　out　along　the　shady　country　road。　The　evening　was　coming　on；　and　the　air　was　full　of　the　scent　of　blossoms。　We　turned　finally　into　a　lane　and　thus　came　promptly；　for　the　horse　was　as　eager　as　we；　to　the　capacious　farmyard。　A　motherly　woman　came　out　from　the　house；　spoke　to　her　son；　and　nodded　pleasantly　to　me。　There　was　no　especial　introduction。　I　said　merely；　〃My　name　is　Grayson；〃　and　I　was　accepted　without　a　word。

I　waited　to　help　the　man；　whose　name　I　had　now　learnedit　was　Stanleywith　his　horse　and　wagon；　and　then　we　came　up　to　the　house。　Near　the　back　door　there　was　a　pump；　with　a　bench　and　basin　set　just　within　a　little　cleanly　swept；　open　shed。　Rolling　back　my　collar　and　baring　my　arms　I　washed　myself　in　the　cool　water；　dashing　it　over　my　head　until　I　gasped；　and　then　stepping　back；　breathless　and　refreshed；　I　found　the　slim　girl；　Mary；　at　my　elbow　with　a　clean　soft　towel。　As　I　stood　wiping　quietly　I　could　smell　the　ambrosial　odours　from　the　kitchen。　In　all　my　life　I　never　enjoyed　a　moment　more　than　that；　I　think。

〃Come　in　now；〃　said　the　motherly　Mrs。　Stanley。

So　we　filed　into　the　roomy　kitchen；　where　an　older　girl；　called　Kate；　was　flying　about　placing　steaming　dishes　upon　the　table。　There　was　also　an　older　son；　who　had　been　at　the　farm　chores。　It　was　altogether　a　fine；　vigorous；　independent　American　family。　So　we　all　sat　down　and　drew　up　our　chairs。　Then　we　paused　a　moment；　and　the　father；　bowing　his　head；　said　in　a　low　voice：

〃For　all　Thy　good　gifts；　Lord；　we　thank　Thee。　Preserve　us　and　keep　us　through　another　night。〃

I　suppose　it　was　a　very　ordinary　farm　meal；　but　it　seems　to　me　I　never　tasted　a　better　one。　The　huge　piles　of　new　baked　bread；　the　sweet　farm　butter；　already　delicious　with　the　flavour　of　new　grass；　the　bacon　and　eggs；　the　potatoes；　the　rhubarb　sauce；　the　great　plates　of　new；　hot　gingerbread　and；　at　the　last；　the　custard　piea　great　wedge　of　it；　with　fresh　cheese。　After　the　first　ravenous　appetite　of　hardworking　men　was　satisfied；　there　came　to　be　a　good　deal　of　lively　conversation。　The　girls　had　some　joke　between　them　which　Ben　was　trying　in　vain　to　fathom。　The　older　son　told　how　much　milk　a　certain　Alderney　cow　had　given；　and　Mr。　Stanley；　quite　changed　now　as　he　sat　at　his　own　table　from　the　rather　grim　farmer　of　the　afternoon；　revealed　a　capacity　for　a　husky　sort　of　fun；　joking　Ben　about　his　potato…planting　and　telling　in　a　lively　way　of　his　race　with　me。　As　for　Mrs。　Stanley；　she　sat　smiling　behind　her　tall　coffee　pot；　radiating　good　cheer　and　hospitality。　They　asked　me　no　questions　at　all；　and　I　was　so　hungry　and　tired　that　I　volunteered　no　information。

After　supper　we　went　out　for　half　or　three　quarters　of　an　hour　to　do　some　final　chores；　and　Mr。　Stanley　and　I　stopped　in　the　cattle　yard　and　looked　over　the　cows；　and　talked　learnedly　about　the　pigs；　and　I　admired　his　spring　calves　to　his　hearts　content；　for　they　really　were　a　fine　lot。　When　we　came　in　again　the　lamps　had　been　lighted　in　the　sitting…room　and　the　older　daughter　was　at　the　telephone　exchanging　the　news　of　the　day　with　some　neighbourand　with　great　laughter　and　enjoyment。　Occasionally　she　would　turn　and　repeat　some　bit　of　gossip　to　the　family；　and　Mrs。　Stanley　would　claim：

〃Do　tell！〃

〃Can't　we　have　a　bit　of　music　to…night？〃　inquired　Mr。　Stanley。

Instantly　Ben　and　the　slim　girl；　Mary；　made　a　wild　dive　for　the　front　roomthe　parlourand　came　out　with　a　first…rate　phonograph　which　they　placed　on　the　table。

〃Something　lively　now；〃　said　Mr。　Stanley。

So　they　put　on　a　rollicking　negro　song　called。　〃My　Georgia　Belle；〃　which；　besides　the　tuneful　voices；　introduced　a　steamboat　whistle　and　a　musical　clangour　of　bells。　When　it　wound　up　with　a　bang；　Mr。　Stanley　took　his　big　comfortable　pipe　out　of　his　mouth　and　cried　out：

〃Fine；　fine！〃

We　had　further　music　of　the　same　sort　and　with　one　record　the　older　daughter；　Kate；　broke　into　the　song　with　a　full；　strong　though　uncultivated　voicewhich　pleased　us　all　very　much　indeed。

Presently　Mrs。　Stanley；　who　was　sitting　under　the　lamp　with　a　basket　of　socks　to　mend；　began　to　nod。

〃Mother's　giving　the　signal；〃　said　the　older　son。

〃No；　no；　I'm　not　a　bit　sleepy；〃　exclaimed　Mrs。　Stanley。

But　with　further　joking　and　laughing　the　family　began　to　move　about。　The　older　daughter　gave　me　a　hand　lamp　and　showed　me　the　way　upstairs　to　a　little　room　at　the　end　of　the　house。

〃I　think；〃　she　said　with　pleasant　dignity；　〃you　will　find　everything　you　need。〃

I　cannot　tell　with　what　solid　pleasure　I　rolled　into　bed　or　how　soundly　and　sweetly　I　slept。

This　was　the　first　day　of　my　real　adventures。



CHAPTER　II。　　I　WHISTLE

When　I　was　a　boy　I　learned　after　many　discouragements　to　play　on　a　tin　whistle。　There　was　a　wandering　old　fellow　in　our　town　who　would　sit　for　hours　on　the　shady　side　of　a　certain　ancient　hotel…barn；　and　with　his　little　whistle　to　his　lips；　and　gently　swaying　his　head　to　his　tune　and　tapping　one　foot　in　the　gravel；　he　would　produce　the　most　wonderful　and　beguiling　melodies。　His　favourite　selections　were　very　lively；　he　played；　I　remember；　〃Old　Dan　Tucker；〃　and　〃Money　Musk；〃　and　the　tune　of　a　rollicking　old　song；　now　no　doubt　long　forgotten；　called　〃Wait　for　the　Wagon。〃　I　can　see　him　yet；　with　his　jolly　eyes　half　closed；　his　lips　puckered　around　the　whistle；　and　his　fingers　curiously　and　stiffly　poised　over　the　stops。　I　am　sure　I　shall　never　forget　the　thrill　which　his　music　gave　to　the　heart　of　a　certain　barefoot　boy。

At　length；　by　means　I　have　long　since　forgotten；　I　secured　a　tin　whistle　exactly　like　Old　Tom　Madison's　and　began　diligently　to　practise　such　tunes　as　I　knew。　I　am　quite　sure　now　that　I　must　have　made　a　nuisance　of　myself；　for　it　soon　appeared　to　be　the　set　purpose　of　every　member　of　the　family　to　break　up　my　efforts。　Whenever　my　father　saw　me　with　the　whistle　to　my　lips；　he　would　instantly　set　me　at　some　useful　work　（oh；　he　was　an　adept　in　discovering　useful　work　to　dofor　a　boy！）。　And　at　the　very　sight　of　my　stern　aunt　I　would　instantly　secrete　my　whistle　in　my　blouse　and　fly　for　the　garret　or　cellar；　like　a　cat　caught　in　the　cream。　Such　are　the　early　tribulations　of　musical　genius！

At　last　I　discovered　a　remote　spot　on　a　beam　in　the　hay…barn　where；　lighted　by　a　ray　of　sunlight　which　came　through　a　crack　in　the　eaves　and　pointed　a　dusty　golden　finger　into　that　hay…scented　interior；　I　practised　rapturously　and　to　my　heart's　content　upon　my　tin　whistle。　I　learned　〃Money　Musk〃　until　I　could　play　it　in　Old　Tom　Madison's　best　styleeven　to　the　last　nod　and　final　foot…tap。　I　turned　a　certain　church　hymn　called　〃Yield　Not　to　Temptation〃　into　something　quite　inspiriting；　and　I　played　〃Marching　Through　Georgia〃　until　all　the　〃happy　hills　of　hay〃　were　to　the　fervid　eye　of　a　boy's　imagination　full　of　tramping　soldiers。　Oh；　I　shall　never　forget　the　joys　of　those　hours　in　the　hay…barn；　nor　the　music　of　that　secret　tin　whistle！　I　can　hear　yet　the　crooning　of　the　pigeons　in　the　eaves；　and　the　slatey　sound　of　their　wings　as　they　flew　across　the　open　spaces　in　the　great　barn；　I　can　smell　yet　the　odour　of　the　hay。