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i and my chimney-第3节

小说: i and my chimney 字数: 每页4000字

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not only to keep them comfortable; but also to keep off wolves;

and other savage monsters; so my chimney; by its obvious smoke at

top; keeps off prowling burglars from the townsfor what burglar

or murderer would dare break into an abode from whose chimney

issues such a continual smokebetokening that if the inmates are

not stirring; at least fires are; and in case of an alarm;

candles may readily be lighted; to say nothing of muskets。 



But stately as is the chimneyyea; grand high altar as it is;

right worthy for the celebration of high mass before the Pope of

Rome; and all his cardinalsyet what is there perfect in this

world? Caius Julius Caesar; had he not been so inordinately

great; they say that Brutus; Cassius; Antony; and the rest; had

been greater。 My chimney; were it not so mighty in its magnitude;

my chambers had been larger。 How often has my wife ruefully told

me; that my chimney; like the English aristocracy; casts a

contracting shade all round it。 She avers that endless domestic

inconveniences arisemore particularly from the chimney's

stubborn central locality。 The grand objection with her is; that

it stands midway in the place where a fine entrance…hall ought to

be。 In truth; there is no hall whatever to the housenothing but

a sort of square landing…place; as you enter from the wide front

door。 A roomy enough landing…place; I admit; but not attaining to

the dignity of a hall。 Now; as the front door is precisely in the

middle of the front of the house; inwards it faces the chimney。

In fact; the opposite wall of the landing…place is formed solely

by the chimney; and hence…owing to the gradual tapering of the

chimneyis a little less than twelve feet in width。 Climbing the

chimney in this part; is the principal staircasewhich; by three

abrupt turns; and three minor landing…places; mounts to the

second floor; where; over the front door; runs a sort of narrow

gallery; something less than twelve feet long; leading to

chambers on either hand。 This gallery; of course; is railed; and

so; looking down upon the stairs; and all those landing…places

together; with the main one at bottom; resembles not a little a

balcony for musicians; in some jolly old abode; in times

Elizabethan。 Shall I tell a weakness? I cherish the cobwebs

there; and many a time arrest Biddy in the act of brushing them

with her broom; and have many a quarrel with my wife and

daughters about it。 



Now the ceiling; so to speak; of the place where you enter the

house; that ceiling is; in fact; the ceiling of the second floor;

not the first。 The two floors are made one here; so that

ascending this turning stairs; you seem going up into a kind of

soaring tower; or lighthouse。 At the second landing; midway up

the chimney; is a mysterious door; entering to a mysterious

closet; and here I keep mysterious cordials; of a choice;

mysterious flavor; made so by the constant nurturing and subtle

ripening of the chimney's gentle heat; distilled through that

warm mass of masonry。  Better for wines is it than voyages to the

Indias; my chimney itself a tropic。 A chair by my chimney in a

November day is as good for an invalid as a long season spent in

Cuba。 Often I think how grapes might ripen against my chimney。 

How my wife's geraniums bud there! Bud in December。 Her eggs;

toocan't keep them near the chimney; an account of the

hatching。 Ah; a warm heart has my chimney。 



How often my wife was at me about that projected grand

entrance…hall of hers; which was to be knocked clean through the

chimney; from one end of the house to the other; and astonish all

guests by its generous amplitude。 〃But; wife;〃 said I; 〃the

chimneyconsider the chimney: if you demolish the foundation;

what is to support the superstructure?〃 〃Oh; that will rest on

the second floor。〃 The truth is; women know next to nothing about

the realities of architecture。  However; my wife still talked of

running her entries and partitions。 She spent many long nights

elaborating her plans; in imagination building her boasted hall

through the chimney; as though its high mightiness were a mere

spear of sorrel…top。 At last; I gently reminded her that; little

as she might fancy it; the chimney was a facta sober;

substantial fact; which; in all her plannings; it would be well

to take into full consideration。 But this was not of much avail。 



And here; respectfully craving her permission; I must say a few

words about this enterprising wife of mine。 Though in years

nearly old as myself; in spirit she is young as my little sorrel

mare; Trigger; that threw me last fall。 What is extraordinary;

though she comes of a rheumatic family; she is straight as a

pine; never has any aches; while for me with the sciatica; I am

sometimes as crippled up as any old apple…tree。 But she has not

so much as a toothache。 As for her hearinglet me enter the

house in my dusty boots; and she away up in the attic。 And for

her sightBiddy; the housemaid; tells other people's housemaids;

that her mistress will spy a spot on the dresser straight through

the pewter platter; put up on purpose to hide it。 Her faculties

are alert as her limbs and her senses。 No danger of my spouse

dying of torpor。 The longest night in the year I've known her lie

awake; planning her campaign for the morrow。 She is a natural

projector。 The maxim; 〃Whatever is; is right;〃 is not hers。 Her

maxim is; Whatever is; is wrong; and what is more; must be

altered; and what is still more; must be altered right away。

Dreadful maxim for the wife of a dozy old dreamer like me; who

dote on seventh days as days of rest; and out of a sabbatical

horror of industry; will; on a week day; go out of 

my road a quarter of a mile; to avoid the sight of a man at work。



That matches are made in heaven; may be; but my wife would have

been just the wife for Peter the Great; or Peter the Piper。 How

she would have set in order that huge littered empire of the one;

and with indefatigable painstaking picked the peck of pickled

peppers for the other。 



But the most wonderful thing is; my wife never thinks of her end。

Her youthful incredulity; as to the plain theory; and still

plainer fact of death; hardly seems Christian。 Advanced in years;

as she knows she must be; my wife seems to think that she is to

teem on; and be inexhaustible forever。 She doesn't believe in old

age。 At that strange promise in the plain of Mamre; my old wife;

unlike old Abraham's; would not have jeeringly laughed within

herself。 



Judge how to me; who; sitting in the comfortable shadow of my

chimney; smoking my comfortable pipe; with ashes not unwelcome at

my feet; and ashes not unwelcome all but in my mouth; and who am

thus in a comfortable sort of not unwelcome; though; indeed; ashy

enough way; reminded of the ultimate exhaustion even of the most

fiery life; judge how to me this unwarrantable vitality in my

wife must come; sometimes; it is true; with a moral and a calm;

but oftener with a breeze and a ruffle。 



If the doctrine be true; that in wedlock contraries attract; by

how cogent a fatality must I have been drawn to my wife! While

spicily impatient of present and past; like a glass of

ginger…beer she overflows with her schemes; and; with like energy

as she puts down her foot; puts down her preserves and her

pickles; and lives with them in a continual future; or ever full

of expectations both from time and space; is ever restless for

newspapers; and ravenous for letters。 Content with the years that

are gone; taking no thought for the morrow; and looking for no

new thing from any person or quarter whatever; I have not a

single scheme or expectation on earth; save in unequal resistance

of the undue encroachment of hers。 



Old myself; I take to oldness in things; for that cause mainly

loving old Montague; and old cheese; and old wine; and eschewing

young people; hot rolls; new books; and early potatoes and very

fond of my old claw…footed chair; and old club…footed Deacon

White; my neighbor; and that still nigher old neighbor; my

betwisted old grape…vine; that of a summer evening leans in his

elbow for cosy company at my window…sill; while I; within doors;

lean over mine to meet his; and above all; high above all; am

fond of my high…mantled old chimney。 But she; out of the

infatuate juvenility of hers; takes to nothing but newness; for

that cause mainly; loving new cider in autumn; and in spring; as

if she were own daughter of Nebuchadnezzar; fairly raving after

all sorts of salads and spinages; and more particularly green

cucumbers (though all the time nature rebukes such unsuitable

young hankerings in so elderlv a person; by never permitting such

things to agree with her); and has an itch after recently…

discovered fine prospects (so no graveyard be in the background);

and also after Sweden…borganism; and the Spirit Rapping

philosophy; with other new views; alike in things natural and

unnatura

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