the story of a bad boy-第6节

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。　Captain　Nutter　had　charge　of　a　slight　earthwork　just　outside　the　mouth　of　the　river。　Late　one　thick　night　the　sound　of　oars　was　heard；　the　sentinel　tried　to　fire　off　his　gun　at　half…cock；　and　couldn't；　when　Captain　Nutter　sprung　upon　the　parapet　in　the　pitch　darkness；　and　shouted；　〃Boat　ahoyl〃　A　musket…shot　immediately　embedded　itself　in　the　calf　of　his　leg。　The　Captain　tumbled　into　the　fort　and　the　boat；　which　had　probably　come　in　search　of　water；　pulled　back　to　the　frigate。

This　was　my　grandfather's　only　exploit　during　the　war。　That　his　prompt　and　bold　conduct　was　instrumental　in　teaching　the　enemy　the　hopelessness　of　attempting　to　conquer　such　a　people　was　among　the　firm　beliefs　of　my　boyhood。

At　the　time　I　came　to　Rivermouth　my　grandfather　had　retired　from　active　pursuits；　and　was　living　at　ease　on　his　money；　invested　principally　in　shipping。　He　bad　been　a　widower　many　years；　a　maiden　sister；　the　aforesaid　Miss　Abigail；　managing　his　household。　Miss　Abigail　also　managed　her　brother；　and　her　brother's　servant；　and　the　visitor　at　her　brother's　gate…not　in　a　tyrannical　spirit；　but　from　a　philanthropic　desire　to　be　useful　to　everybody。　In　person　she　was　tall　and　angular；　she　had　a　gray　complexion；　gray　eyes；　gray　eyebrows；　and　generally　wore　a　gray　dress。　Her　strongest　weak　point　was　a　belief　in　the　efficacy　of　〃hot…drops〃　as　a　cure　for　all　known　diseases。

If　there　were　ever　two　people　who　seemed　to　dislike　each　other；　Miss　Abigail　and　Kitty　Collins　were　those　people。　If　ever　two　people　really　loved　each　other；　Miss　Abigail　and　Kitty　Collins　were　those　people　also。　They　were　always　either　skirmishing　or　having　a　cup　of　tea　lovingly　together。

Miss　Abigail　was　very　fond　of　me；　and　so　was　Kitty；　and　in　the　course　of　their　disagreements　each　let　me　into　the　private　history　of　the　other。

According　to　Kitty；　it　was　not　originally　my　grandfather's　intention　to　have　Miss　Abigail　at　the　head　of　his　domestic　establishment。　She　had　swooped　down　on　him　（Kitty's　own　words）；　with　a　band…box　in　one　hand　and　a　faded　blue　cotton　umbrella；　still　in　existence；　in　the　other。　Clad　in　this　singular　garb…I　do　not　remember　that　Kitty　alluded　to…any　additional　peculiarity　of　dress…Miss　Abigail　bad　made　her　appearance　at　the　door　of　the　Nutter　House　on　the　morning　of　my　grandmother's　funeral。　The　small　amount　of　baggage　which　the　lady　brought　with　her　would　have　led　the　superficial　observer　to　infer　that　Miss　Abigail's　visit　was　limited　to　a　few　days。　I　run　ahead　of　my　story　in　saying　she　remained　seventeen　years！　How　much　longer　she　would　have　remained　can　never　be　definitely　known　now；　as　she　died　at　the　expiration　of　that　period。

Whether　or　not　my　grandfather　was　quite　pleased　by　this　unlooked…for　addition　to　his　family　is　a　problem。　He　was　very　kind　always　to　Miss　Abigail；　and　seldom　opposed　her；　though　I　think　she　must　have　tried　his　patience　sometimes；　especially　when　she　interfered　with　Kitty。

Kitty　Collins；　or　Mrs。　Catherine；　as　she　preferred　to　be　called；　was　descended　in　a　direct　line　from　an　extensive　family　of　kings　who　formerly　ruled　over　Ireland。　In　consequence　of　various　calamities；　among　which　the　failure　of　the　potato…crop　may　be　mentioned；　Miss　Kitty　Collins；　in　company　with　several　hundred　of　her　countrymen　and　countrywomen…also　descended　from　kings…came　over　to　America　in　an　emigrant　ship；　in　the　year　eighteen　hundred　and　something。

I　don't　know　what　freak　of　fortune　caused　the　royal　exile　to　turn　up　at　Rivermouth；　but　turn　up　she　did；　a　few　months　after　arriving　in　this　country；　and　was　hired　by　my　grandmother　to　do　〃general　housework〃　for　the　sum　of　four　shillings　and　six…pence　a　week。

Kitty　had　been　living　about　seven　years　in　my　grandfather's　family　when　she　unburdened　her　heart　of　a　secret　which　had　been　weighing　upon　it　all　that　time。　It　may　be　said　of　people；　as　it　is　said　of　nations；　　〃Happy　are　they　that　have　no　history。〃　Kitty　had　a　history；　and　a　pathetic　one；　I　think。

On　board　the　emigrant　ship　that　brought　her　to　America；　she　became　acquainted　with　a　sailor；　who；　being　touched　by　Kitty's　forlorn　condition；　was　very　good　to　her。　Long　before　the　end　of　the　voyage；　which　had　been　tedious　and　perilous；　she　was　heartbroken　at　the　thought　of　separating　from　her　kindly　protector；　but　they　were　not　to　part　just　yet；　for　the　sailor　returned　Kitty's　affection；　and　the　two　were　married　on　their　arrival　at　port。　Kitty's　husband…she　would　never　mention　his　name；　but　kept　it　locked　in　her　bosom　like　some　precious　relic…had　a　considerable　sum　of　money　when　the　crew　were　paid　off；　and　the　young　couple…for　Kitty　was　young　then…lived　very　happily　in　a　lodging…house　on　South　Street；　near　the　docks。　This　was　in　New　York。

The　days　flew　by　like　hours；　and　the　stocking　in　which　the　little　bride　kept　the　funds　shrunk　and　shrunk；　until　at　last　there　were　only　three　or　four　dollars　left　in　the　toe　of　it。　Then　Kitty　was　troubled；　for　she　knew　her　sailor　would　have　to　go　to　sea　again　unless　he　could　get　employment　on　shore。　This　he　endeavored　to　do；　but　not　with　much　success。　One　morning　as　usual　he　kissed　her　good　day；　and　set　out　in　search　of　work。

〃Kissed　me　goodby；　and　called　me　his　little　Irish　lass；〃　sobbed　Kitty；　telling　the　story；　〃kissed　me　goodby；　and；　Heaven　help　me；　I　niver　set　oi　on　him　nor　on　the　likes　of　him　again！〃

He　never　came　back。　Day　after　day　dragged　on；　night　after　night；　and　then　the　weary　weeks。　What　had　become　of　him？　Had　be　been　murdered？　Had　be　fallen　into　the　docks？　Had　he…deserted　her？　No！　She　could　not　believe　that；　he　was　too　brave　and　tender　and　true。　She　couldn't　believe　that。　He　was　dead；　dead；　or　he'd　come　back　to　her。

Meanwhile　the　landlord　of　the　lodging…house　turned　Kitty　into　the　streets；　now　that　〃her　man〃　was　gone；　and　the　payment　of　the　rent　doubtful。　She　got　a　place　as　a　servant。　The　family　she　lived　with　shortly　moved　to　Boston；　and　she　accompanied　them；　then　they　went　abroad；　but　Kitty　would　not　leave　America。　Somehow　she　drifted　to　Rivermouth；　and　for　seven　long　years　never　gave　speech　to　her　sorrow；　until　the　kindness　of　strangers；　who　had　become　friends　to　her；　unsealed　the　heroic　lips。

Kitty's　story；　you　may　be　sure；　made　my　grandparents　treat　her　more　kindly　than　ever。　In　time　she　grew　to　be　regarded　less　as　a　servant　than　as　a　friend　in　the　home　circle；　sharing　its　joys　and　sorrows…a　faithful　nurse；　a　willing　slave；　a　happy　spirit　in　spite　of　all。　I　fancy　I　hear　her　singing　over　her　work　in　the　kitchen；　pausing　from　time　to　time　to　make　some　witty　reply　to　Miss　Abigail…for　Kitty；　like　all　her　race；　had　a　vein　of　unconscious　humor。　Her　bright　honest　face　comes　to　me　out　from　the　past；　the　light　and　life　of　the　Nutter　House　when　I　was　a　boy　at　Rivermouth。



Chapter　Six

Lights　and　Shadows



The　first　shadow　that　fell　upon　me　in　my　new　home　was　caused　by　the　return　of　my　parents　to　New　Orleans。　Their　visit　was　cut　short　by　business　which　required　my　father's　presence　in　Natchez；　where　he　was　establishing　a　branch　of　the　bankinghouse。　When　they　had　gone；　a　sense　of　loneliness　such　as　I　had　never　dreamed　of　filled　my　young　breast。　I　crept　away　to　the　stable；　and；　throwing　my　arms　about　Gypsy's　neck；　sobbed　aloud。　She　too　had　come　from　the　sunny　South；　and　was　now　a　stranger　in　a　strange　land。

The　little　mare　seemed　to　realize　our　situation；　and　gave　me　all　the　sympathy　I　could　ask；　repeatedly　rubbing　her　soft　nose　over　my　face　and　lapping　up　my　salt　tears　with　evident　relish。

When　night　came；　I　felt　still　more　lonesome。　My　grandfather　sat　in　his　arm…chair　the　greater　part　of　the　evening；　reading　the　Rivermouth　Bamacle；　the　local　newspaper。　There　was　no　gas　in　those　days；　and　the　Captain　read　by　the　aid　of　a　small　block…tin　lamp；　which　he　held　in　one　hand。　I　observed　that　he　had　a　habit　of　dropping　off　into　a　doze　every　three　or　four　minutes；　and　I　forgot　my　homesickness　at　intervals　in　watching　him。　Two　or　three　times；　to　my　vast　amusement；　he　scorched　the　edges　of　the　newspaper　with　the　wick　of　the　lamp；　and　at　about　half　past　eight　o'clock　I　had　the　satisfactions　am　sorry　to　confess　it　was　a　satisfaction…of　seeing　the　Rivermouth　Barnacle　in　flames。

My　grandfather　leisurely　extinguished　the　fire　with　his　hands；　and　Miss　Abigail；　who　sat　near　a　low　table；　knitting　by　the　light　of　an　astral　lamp；　did　not　even　look　up。　She　was　quite　used　to　this　catastrophe。

There　was　little　or　no　conversation　during　the　evening。　In　fact；　I　do　not　remember　that　anyone　spoke　at　all；　excepting　once；　when　the　Captain　remarked；　in　a　meditative　manner；　that　my　parents　〃must　have　reached　New　York　by　this　time〃；　at　which　supposition　I　nearly　strangled　myself　in　attempting　to　intercept　a　sob。

The　monotonous　〃click　click〃　of　Miss　Abigail's　needles　made　me　nervous　after　a　while；　and　finally　drove　me　out　of　the　sitting…room　into　the　kitchen；　where　Kitty　caused　me　to　laugh　by　saying　Miss　Abigail　thought　that　what　I　needed　was　〃a　good　dose　of　hot…drops；〃　a　remedy　she　was　forever　ready　to　administer　in　all　emergencies。　If　a　boy　broke　his　leg；　or　lost　his　mother；　I　believe　Miss　Abigail　would　have　given　him　hot…drops。

Kitty　laid　herself　out　to　be　entertaining。　She　told　me　several　funny　Irish　stories；　and　described　some　of　the　odd　people　living　in　the　town；　but；　in　the　mids