the friendly road(友好的路)-第19节
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found that I was standing there in the middle of the public road； one
clenched fist absurdly raised in air； delivering an oration to a congregation
of rural…mail boxes！
And yet； in spite of the humorous aspects of the idea； it still appeared
to me that such an experiment would not only fit in with 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。
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〃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
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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
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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
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