a girl of the limberlost-第50节

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while　the　pump　freezes　every　day；　and　there　is　no

earthly　amusement；　and　no　society！　　Poor　things！　

Can't　you　influence　him　to　move？　　No　wonder　she　gads　when

she　has　a　chance！　　I　should　die。　　If　you　are　thinking

of　settling　in　the　country；　think　also　of　a　woman　who

is　satisfied　with　white　and　brown　to　accompany　you！　

Brown！　　Of　all　deadly　colours！　　I　should　go　mad　in　brown。〃



Elnora　laughed　while　she　read。　　Her　face　was　dimpling；

as　she　returned　the　sheet。　　〃Who's　ahead？〃　she　asked。



〃Who　do　you　think？〃　he　parried。



〃She　is；〃　said　Elnora。　　〃Are　you　going　to　tell　her

in　your　next　that　R。　B。　Grosbeak　is　a　bird；　and　that　he

probably　will　spend　the　winter　in　a　wild　plum　thicket

in　Tennessee？〃



〃No；〃　said　Philip。　　〃I　shall　tell　her　that　I　understand　her

ideas　of　life　perfectly；　and；　of　course；　I　never

shall　ask　her　to　deal　with　oily　butter　and　frozen　pumps〃



〃and　measley　babies；〃　interpolated　Elnora。



〃Exactly！〃　said　Philip。　　〃At　the　same　time　I　find　so

much　to　counterbalance　those　things；　that　I　should　not

object　to　bearing　them　myself；　in　view　of　the　recompense。　

Where　do　we　go　and　what　do　we　do　to…day？〃



〃We　will　have　to　hunt　beside　the　roads　and　around　the

edge　of　the　Limberlost　to…day；〃　said　Elnora。　　〃Mother　is

making　strawberry　preserves；　and　she　can't　come　until

she　finishes。　　Suppose　we　go　down　to　the　swamp　and

I'll　show　you　what　is　left　of　the　flower…room　that

Terence　O'More；　the　big　lumber　man　of　Great　Rapids；

made　when　he　was　a　homeless　boy　here。　　Of　course；

you　have　heard　the　story？〃



〃Yes；　and　I've　met　the　O'Mores　who　are　frequently

in　Chicago　society。　　They　have　friends　there。　　I　think

them　one　ideal　couple。〃



〃That　sounds　as　if　they　might　be　the　only　one；〃　said

Elnora；　〃and；　indeed；　they　are　not。　　I　know　dozens。　

Aunt　Margaret　and　Uncle　Wesley　are　another；　the　Brownlees

another；　and　my　mathematics　professor　and　his　wife。



The　world　is　full　of　happy　people；　but　no　one　ever　hears

of　them。　　You　must　fight　and　make　a　scandal　to　get　into

the　papers。　　No　one　knows　about　all　the　happy　people。

I　am　happy　myself；　and　look　how　perfectly　inconspicuous

I　am。〃



〃You　only　need　go　where　you　will　be　seen；〃　began

Philip；　when　he　remembered　and　finished。　　〃What　do

we　take　to…day？〃



〃Ourselves；〃　said　Elnora。　　〃I　have　a　vagabond　streak　in

my　blood　and　it's　in　evidence。　　I　am　going　to　show　you

where　real　flowers　grow；　real　birds　sing；　and　if　I　feel　quite

right　about　it；　perhaps　I　shall　raise　a　note　or　two　myself。〃



〃Oh；　do　you　sing？〃　asked　Philip　politely。



〃At　times；〃　answered　Elnora。　　〃‘As　do　the　birds；

because　I　must；'　but　don't　be　scared。　　The　mood　does

not　possess　me　often。　　Perhaps　I　shan't　raise　a　note。〃



They　went　down　the　road　to　the　swamp；　climbed　the

snake　fence；　followed　the　path　to　the　old　trail　and　then

turned　south　upon　it。　　Elnora　indicated　to　Philip　the

trail　with　remnants　of　sagging　barbed　wire。



〃It　was　ten　years　ago；〃　she　said。　　〃I　was　a　little　school

girl；　but　I　wandered　widely　even　then；　and　no　one　cared。　

I　saw　him　often。　　He　had　been　in　a　city　institution　all　his

life；　when　he　took　the　job　of　keeping　timber　thieves　out　of

this　swamp；　before　many　trees　had　been　cut。　　It　was　a

strong　man's　work；　and　he　was　a　frail　boy；　but　he　grew

hardier　as　he　lived　out　of　doors。　　This　trail　we　are　on　is

the　path　his　feet　first　wore；　in　those　days　when　he　was

insane　with　fear　and　eaten　up　with　loneliness；　but　he　stuck

to　his　work　and　won　out。　　I　used　to　come　down　to　the　road

and　creep　among　the　bushes　as　far　as　I　dared；　to　watch

him　pass。　　He　walked　mostly；　at　times　he　rode　a　wheel。



〃Some　days　his　face　was　dreadfully　sad；　others　it　was

so　determined　a　little　child　could　see　the　force　in　it；　and

once　he　was　radiant。　　That　day　the　Swamp　Angel　was

with　him。　　I　can't　tell　you　what　she　was　like。　　I　never

saw　any　one　who　resembled　her。　　He　stopped　close　here

to　show　her　a　bird's　nest。　　Then　they　went　on　to　a　sort　of

flower…room　he　had　made；　and　he　sang　for　her。　　By　the

time　he　left；　I　had　gotten　bold　enough　to　come　out　on

the　trail；　and　I　met　the　big　Scotchman　Freckles　lived　with。　

He　saw　me　catching　moths　and　butterflies；　so　he　took　me

to　the　flower…room　and　gave　me　everything　there。　

I　don't　dare　come　alone　often；　so　I　can't　keep　it　up　as

he　did；　but　you　can　see　something　of　how　it　was。〃



Elnora　led　the　way　and　Philip　followed。　　The　outlines

of　the　room　were　not　distinct；　because　many　of　the

trees　were　gone；　but　Elnora　showed　how　it　had　been　as

nearly　as　she　could。



〃The　swamp　is　almost　ruined　now；〃　she　said。　　〃The　maples；

walnuts；　and　cherries　are　all　gone。　　The　talking　trees

are　the　only　things　left　worth　while。〃



〃The　‘talking　trees！'　　I　don't　understand；〃　commented　Philip。



〃No　wonder！〃　laughed　Elnora。　　〃They　are　my　discovery。　

You　know　all　trees　whisper　and　talk　during　the　summer；

but　there　are　two　that　have　so　much　to　say　they　keep　on

the　whole　winter；　when　the　others　are　silent。　　The　beeches

and　oaks　so　love　to　talk；　they　cling　to　their　dead；

dry　leaves。　　In　the　winter　the　winds　are　stiffest

and　blow　most；　so　these　trees　whisper；　chatter；　sob；

laugh；　and　at　times　roar　until　the　sound　is　deafening。　

They　never　cease　until　new　leaves　come　out　in　the　spring

to　push　off　the　old　ones。　　I　love　to　stand　beneath　them

with　my　ear　to　the　trunks；　interpreting　what　they　say

to　fit　my　moods。　　The　beeches　branch　low；　and　their

leaves　are　small　so　they　only　know　common　earthly　things；

but　the　oaks　run　straight　above　almost　all　other　trees

before　they　branch；　their　arms　are　mighty；　their　leaves　large。　

They　meet　the　winds　that　travel　around　the　globe；　and　from

them　learn　the　big　things。〃



Philip　studied　the　girls　face。　　〃What　do　the　beeches

tell　you；　Elnora？〃　he　asked　gently。



〃To　be　patient；　to　be　unselfish；　to　do　unto　others　as

I　would　have　them　do　to　me。〃



〃And　the　oaks？〃



〃They　say　‘be　true；'　‘live　a　clean　life；'　‘send　your　soul

up　here　and　the　winds　of　the　world　will　teach　it　what

honour　achieves。'〃



〃Wonderful　secrets；　those！〃　marvelled　Philip。　　〃Are　they

telling　them　now？　　Could　I　hear？〃



〃No。　　They　are　only　gossiping　now。　　This　is　play…time。　

They　tell　the　big　secrets　to　a　white　world；　when　the

music　inspires　them。〃



〃The　music？〃



〃All　other　trees　are　harps　in　the　winter。　　Their　trunks　are

the　frames；　their　branches　the　strings；　the　winds　the　musicians。　

When　the　air　is　cold　and　clear；　the　world　very　white；　and

the　harp　music　swelling；　then　the　talking　trees　tell　the

strengthening；　uplifting　things。〃



〃You　wonderful　girl！〃　cried　Philip。　　〃What　a　woman

you　will　be！〃



〃If　I　am　a　woman　at　all　worth　while；　it　will　be　because

I　have　had　such　wonderful　opportunities；〃　said　Elnora。　

〃Not　every　girl　is　driven　to　the　forest　to　learn　what　God

has　to　say　there。　　Here　are　the　remains　of　Freckles's　room。　

The　time　the　Angel　came　here　he　sang　to　her；　and　I　listened。　

I　never　heard　music　like　that。　　No　wonder　she　loved　him。　

Every　one　who　knew　him　did；　and　they　do　yet。　　Try　that

log；　it　makes　a　fairly　good　seat。　　This　old　store　box

was　his　treasure　house；　just　as　it's　now　mine。　　I　will

show　you　my　dearest　possession。　　I　do　not　dare　take

it　home　because　mother　can't　overcome　her　dislike　for　it。　

It　was　my　father's；　and　in　some　ways　I　am　like　him。　

This　is　the　strongest。〃



Elnora　lifted　the　violin　and　began　to　play。　　She　wore

a　school　dress　of　green　gingham；　with　the　sleeves　rolled　to

the　elbows。　　She　seemed　a　part　of　the　setting　all　around　her。　

Her　head　shone　like　a　small　dark　sun；　and　her　face　never

had　seemed　so　rose…flushed　and　fair。　　From　the　instant

she　drew　the　bow；　her　lips　parted　and　her　eyes　turned

toward　something　far　away　in　the　swamp；　and　never　did

she　give　more　of　that　impression　of　feeling　for　her　notes

and　repeating　something　audible　only　to　her。　　Philip　was

too　close　to　get　the　best　effect。　　He　arose　and　stepped　back

several　yards；　leaning　against　a　large　tree；　looking　and

listening　intently。



As　he　changed　positions　he　saw　that　Mrs。　Comstock　had

followed　them；　and　was　standing　on　the　trail；　where　she

could　not　have　helped　hearing　everything　Elnora　had　said。



So　to　Philip　before　her　and　the　mother　watching　on　the

trail；　Elnora　played　the　Song　of　the　Limberlost。　　It　seemed

as　if　the　swamp　hushed　all　its　other　voices　and　spoke

only　through　her　dancing　bow。　　The　mother　out　on　the

trail　had　heard　it　all；　once　before　from　the　girl；　many

times　from　her　father。　　To　the　man　it　was　a　revelation。　

He　stood　so　stunned　he　forgot　Mrs。　Comstock。　　He　tried

to　realize　what　a　city　audience　would　say　to　that　music；

from　such　a　player；　with　a　similar　background；　and　he

could　not　imagine。



He　was　wondering　what　he　dared　say；　how　much　he　might

express；　when　the　last　note　fell　and　the　girl　laid　the

violin　in　the　case；　closed　the　door；　locked　it　and　hid　the

key　in　th