the story of a bad boy(顽童故事)-第35章
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collegiate course would have no settled profession。 If I accepted my
uncle's offer； I might hope to work my way to independence without loss
of time。 It was hard to give up the long…cherished dream of being a
Harvard boy； but I gave it up。
The decision once made； it was Uncle Snow's wish that I should enter
his counting…house immediately。 The cause of my good uncle's haste was
this…he was afraid that I would turn out to be a poet before he could make
a merchant of me。 His fears were based upon the fact that I had published
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in the Rivermouth Barnacle some verses addressed in a familiar manner
〃To the Moon。〃 Now； the idea of a boy； with his living to get； placing
himself in communication with the Moon； struck the mercantile mind as
monstrous。 It was not only a bad investment； it was lunacy。
'We adopted Uncle Snow's views so far as to accede to his proposition
forthwith。 My mother； I neglected to say； was also to reside in New York。
I shall not draw a picture of Pepper Whitcomb's disgust when the news
was imparted to him； nor attempt to paint Sailor Ben's distress at the
prospect of losing his little messmate。
In the excitement of preparing for the journey I didn't feel any very
deep regret myself。 But when the moment came for leaving； and I saw my
small trunk lashed up behind the carriage； then the pleasantness of the old
life and a vague dread of the new came over me； and a mist filled my eyes；
shutting out the group of schoolfellows； including all the members of the
Centipede Club； who had come down to the house to see me off。
As the carriage swept round the corner； I leaned out of the window to
take a last look at Sailor Ben's cottage； and there was the Admiral's flag
flying at half…mast。
So I left Rivermouth； little dreaming that I was not to see the old place
again for many and many a year。
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The Story of a Bad Boy
CHAPTER Twenty…Two
Exeunt Omnes
With the close of my school…days at Rivermouth this modest chronicle
ends。
The new life upon which I entered； the new friends and foes I
encountered on the road； and what I did and what I did not； are matters
that do not come within the scope of these pages。 But before I write Finis
to the record as it stands； before I leave it…feeling as if I were once more
going away from my boyhood…I have a word or two to say concerning a
few of the personages who have figured in the story； if you will allow me
to call Gypsy a personage。
I am sure that the reader who has followed me thus far will be willing
to hear what became of her； and Sailor Ben and Miss Abigail and the
Captain。
First about Gypsy。 A month after my departure from Rivemouth the
Captain informed me by letter that he had parted with the little mare；
according to agreement。 She had been sold to the ring…master of a
travelling circus （I had stipulated on this disposal of her）； and was about to
set out on her travels。 She did not disappoint my glowing anticipations； but
became quite a celebrity in her way…by dancing the polka to slow music on
a pine…board ball…room constructed for the purpose。
I chanced once； a long while afterwards； to be in a country town where
her troupe was giving exhibitions； I even read the gaudily illumined show…
bill； setting forth the accomplishments of Zuleika； the famed Arabian Trick
Pony…but I failed to recognize my dear little Mustang girl behind those
high…sounding titles； and so； alas； did not attend the performance！ I hope
all the praises she received and all the spangled trappings she wore did not
spoil her； but I am afraid they did； for she was always over much given to
the vanities of this world！
Miss Abigail regulated the domestic destinies of my grandfather's
household until the day of her death； which Dr。 Theophilus Tredick
solemnly averred was hastened by the inveterate habit she had contracted
of swallowing unknown quantities of hot…drops whenever she fancied
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herself out of sorts。 Eighty…seven empty phials were found in a bonnet…box
on a shelf in her bedroom closet。
The old house became very lonely when the family got reduced to
Captain Nutter and Kitty； and when Kitty passed away； my grandfather
divided his time between Rivermouth and New York。
Sailor Ben did not long survive his little Irish lass； as he always fondly
called her。 At his demise； which took place about six years since； he left
his property in trust to the managers of a 〃Home for Aged Mariners。〃 In
his will； which was a very whimsical document…written by himself； and
worded with much shrewdness； too…he warned the Trustees that when he
got 〃aloft〃 he intended to keep his 〃weather eye〃 on them； and should send
〃a speritual shot across their bows〃 and bring them to； if they didn't treat
the Aged Mariners handsomely。
He also expressed a wish to have his body stitched up in a shotted
hammock and dropped into the harbor； but as he did not strenuously insist
on this； and as it was not in accordance with my grandfather's
preconceived notions of Christian burial； the Admiral was laid to rest
beside Kitty； in the Old South Burying Ground； with an anchor that would
have delighted him neatly carved on his headstone。
I am sorry the fire has gone out in the old ship's stove in that sky…blue
cottage at the head of the wharf； I am sorry they have taken down the flag…
staff and painted over the funny port…holes； for I loved the old cabin as it
was。 They might have let it alone！
For several months after leaving Rivermouth I carried on a
voluminous correspondence with Pepper Whitcomb； but it gradually
dwindled down to a single letter a month； and then to none at all。 But
while he remained at the Temple Grammar School he kept me advised of
the current gossip of the town and the doings of the Centipedes。
As one by one the boys left the academy…Adams； Harris； Marden；
Blake； and Langdon…to seek their fortunes elsewhere； there was less to
interest me in the old seaport； and when Pepper himself went to
Philadelphia to read law； I had no one to give me an inkling of what was
going on。
There wasn't much to go on； to be sure。 Great events no longer
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considered it worth their while to honor so quiet a place。
One Fourth of July the Temple Grammar School burnt down…set on
fire； it was supposed； by an eccentric squib that was seen to bolt into an
upper window…and Mr。 Grimshaw retired from public life； married； 〃and
lived happily ever after；〃 as the story…books say。
The Widow Conway； I am able to state； did not succeed in enslaving
Mr。 Meeks； the apothecary； who united himself clandestinely to one of
Miss Dorothy Gibbs's young ladies； and lost the patronage of Primrose
Hall in consequence。
Young Conway went into the grocery business with his ancient chum；
Rodgers…RODGERS & CONWAY！ I read the sign only last summer when
I was down in Rivermouth； and had half a mind to pop into the shop and
shake hands with him； and ask him if he wanted to fight。 I contented
myself； however； with flattening my nose against his dingy shop…window；
and beheld Conway； in red whiskers and blue overalls； weighing out sugar
for a customer…giving him short weight； I'll bet anything！
I have reserved my pleasantest word for the last。 It is touching the
Captain。 The Captain is still hale and rosy； and if he doesn't relate his
exploit in the War of 1812 as spiritedly as he used to； he makes up by
relating it more frequently and telling it differently every time！ He passes
his winters in New York and his summers in the Nutter House； which
threatens to prove a hard nut for the destructive gentleman with the scythe
and the hour…glass； for the seaward gable has not yielded a clapboard to
the eastwind these twenty years。 The Captain has now become the Oldest
Inhabitant in Rivermouth； and so I don't laugh at the Oldest Inhabitant any
more； but pray in my heart that he may occupy the post of honor for half a
century to come！
So ends the Story of a Bad Boy…but not such a very bad boy； as I told
you to begin with。
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