the poet at the breakfast table-第17节

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by　any　means；　and　they　will　often　pick　out　your　weak　points　with　a
malignant　sagacity；　as　a　pettifogging　lawyer　will　frequently　find　a
real　flaw　in　trying　to　get　at　everything　he　can　quibble　about。　　But
is　there　nobody　who　will　praise　you　generously　when　you　do　well；
nobody　that　will　lend　you　a　hand　now　while　you　want　it；or　must　they
all　wait　until　you　have　made　yourself　a　name　among　strangers；　and
then　all　at　once　find　out　that　you　have　something　in　you？
Oh；said　the　girl；　and　the　bright　film　gathered　too　fast　for　her
young　eyes　to　hold　much　longer；I　ought　not　to　be　ungrateful！　　I
have　found　the　kindest　friend　in　the　world。　　Have　you　ever　heard　the
Ladythe　one　that　I　sit　next　to　at　the　tablesay　anything　about　me？

I　have　not　really　made　her　acquaintance；　I　said。　　She　seems　to　me　a
little　distant　in　her　manners　and　I　have　respected　her　pretty　evident
liking　for　keeping　mostly　to　herself。

Oh；　but　when　you　once　do　know　her！　　I　don't　believe　I　could　write
stories　all　the　time　as　I　do；　if　she　didn't　ask　me　up　to　her　chamber；
and　let　me　read　them　to　her。　　Do　you　know；　I　can　make　her　laugh　and
cry；　reading　my　poor　stories？　　And　sometimes；　when　I　feel　as　if　I　had
written　out　all　there　is　in　me；　and　want　to　lie　down　and　go　to　sleep
and　never　wake　up　except　in　a　world　where　there　are　no　weekly
papers；when　everything　goes　wrong；　like　a　car　off　the　track；she
takes　hold　and　sets　me　on　the　rails　again　all　right。

How　does　she　go　to　work　to　help　you？

Why；　she　listens　to　my　stories；　to　begin　with；　as　if　she　really
liked　to　hear　them。　　And　then　you　know　I　am　dreadfully　troubled　now
and　then　with　some　of　my　characters；　and　can't　think　how　to　get　rid
of　them。　　And　she'll　say；　perhaps；　Don't　shoot　your　villain　this
time；　you've　shot　three　or　four　already　in　the　last　six　weeks；　let
his　mare　stumble　and　throw　him　and　break　his　neck。　　Or　she'll　give　me
a　hint　about　some　new　way　for　my　lover　to　make　a　declaration。　　She
must　have　had　a　good　many　offers；　it's　my　belief；　for　she　has　told　me
a　dozen　different　ways　for　me　to　use　in　my　stories。　　And　whenever　I
read　a　story　to　her；　she　always　laughs　and　cries　in　the　right　places；
and　that's　such　a　comfort；　for　there　are　some　people　that　think
everything　pitiable　is　so　funny；　and　will　burst　out　laughing　when
poor　Rip　Van　Winkleyou've　seen　Mr。　Jefferson；　haven't　you？is
breaking　your　heart　for　you　if　you　have　one。　　Sometimes　she　takes　a
poem　I　have　written　and　reads　it　to　me　so　beautifully；　that　I　fall　in
love　with　it；　and　sometimes　she　sets　my　verses　to　music　and　sings
them　to　me。

You　have　a　laugh　together　sometimes；　do　you？

Indeed　we　do。　　I　write　for　what　they　call　the　〃Comic　Department〃　of
the　paper　now　and　then。　　If　I　did　not　get　so　tired　of　story…telling；
I　suppose　I　should　be　gayer　than　I　am；　but　as　it　is；　we　two　get　a

little　fun　out　of　my　comic　pieces。　　I　begin　them　half…crying
sometimes；　but　after　they　are　done　they　amuse　me。　　I　don't　suppose　my
comic　pieces　are　very　laughable；　at　any　rate　the　man　who　makes　a
business　of　writing　me　down　says　the　last　one　I　wrote　is　very
melancholy　reading；　and　that　if　it　was　only　a　little　better　perhaps
some　bereaved　person　might　pick　out　a　line　or　two　that　would　do　to
put　on　a　gravestone。

Well；　that　is　hard；　I　must　confess。　　Do　let　me　see　those　lines
which　excite　such　sad　emotions。

Will　you　read　them　very　good…naturedly？　　If　you　will；　I　will　get
the　paper　that　has　〃Aunt　Tabitha。〃　　That　is　the　one　the　fault…finder
said　produced　such　deep　depression　of　feeling。　　It　was　written　for
the　〃Comic　Department。〃　　Perhaps　it　will　make　you　cry；　but　it　was　n't
meant　to。

I　will　finish　my　report　this　time　with　our　Scheherezade's　poem；
hoping　thatany　critic　who　deals　with　it　will　treat　it　with　the
courtesy　due　to　all　a　young　lady's　literary　efforts。


　　　　　　　　　　AUNT　TABITHA。

Whatever　I　do；　and　whatever　I　say；
Aunt　Tabitha　tells　me　that　isn't　the　way；
When　she　was　a　girl　（forty　summers　ago）
Aunt　Tabitha　tells　me　they　never　did　so。

Dear　aunt！　　If　I　only　would　take　her　advice！
But　I　like　my　own　way；　and　I　find　it　so　nice！
And　besides；　I　forget　half　the　things　I　am　told；
But　they　all　will　come　back　to　mewhen　I　am　old。

If　a　youth　passes　by；　it　may　happen；　no　doubt；
He　may　chance　to　look　in　as　I　chance　to　look　out；
She　would　never　endure　an　impertinent　stare；
It　is　horrid；　she　says；　and　I　mustn't　sit　there。

A　walk　in　the　moonlight　has　pleasures；　I　own；
But　it　is　n't　quite　safe　to　be　walking　alone；
So　I　take　a　lad's　arm；just　for　safety；　you　know；
But　Aunt　Tabitha　tells　me　they　didn't　do　so。

How　wicked　we　are；　and　how　good　they　were　then！
They　kept　at　arm's　length　those　detestable　men；
What　an　era　of　virtue　she　lived　in！But　stay
Were　the　men　all　such　rogues　in　Aunt　Tabitha's　day？

If　the　men　were　so　wicked；　I'll　ask　my　papa
How　he　dared　to　propose　to　my　darling　mamma；
Was　he　like　the　rest　of　them？　　Goodness！　　Who　knows
And　what　shall　I　say　if　a　wretch　should　propose　？

I　am　thinking　if　aunt　knew　so　little　of　sin；
What　a　wonder　Aunt　Tabitha's　aunt　must　have　been！
And　her　grand…auntit　scares　mehow　shockingly　sad。
That　we　girls　of　to…day　are　so　frightfully　bad！

A　martyr　will　save　us；　and　nothing　else　can；
Let　me　perishto　rescue　some　wretched　young　man！
Though　when　to　the　altar　a　victim　I　go；
Aunt　Tabitha'll　tell　me　she　never　did　so！




IV

The　old　Master　has　developed　one　quality　of　late　for　which　I　am
afraid　I　hardly　gave　him　credit。　　He　has　turned　out　to　be　an
excellent　listener。

I　love　to　talk；he　said；as　a　goose　loves　to　swim。　　Sometimes　I
think　it　is　because　I　am　a　goose。　　For　I　never　talked　much　at　any　one
time　in　my　life　without　saying　something　or　other　I　was　sorry　for。

You　too！said　INow　that　is　very　odd；　for　it　is　an　experience　I
have　habitually。　　I　thought　you　were　rather　too　much　of　a　philosopher
to　trouble　yourself　about　such　small　matters　as　to　whether　you　had
said　just　what　you　meant　to　or　not；　especially　as　you　know　that　the
person　you　talk　to　does　not　remember　a　word　of　what　you　said　the　next
morning；　but　is　thinking；　it　is　much　more　likely；　of　what　she　said；
or　how　her　new　dress　looked；　or　some　other　body's　new　dress　which
madehers　look　as　if　it　had　been　patched　together　from　the　leaves　of
last　November。　　That's　what　she's　probably　thinking　about。

She！said　the　Master；　with　a　look　which　it　would　take　at　least
half　a　page　to　explain　to　the　entire　satisfaction　of　thoughtful
readers　of　both　sexes。

I　paid　the　respect　due　to　that　most　significant　monosyllable；
which；　as　the　old　Rabbi　spoke　it；　with　its　targum　of　tone　and
expression；　was　not　to　be　answered　flippantly；　but　soberly；
advisedly；　and　after　a　pause　long　enough　for　it　to　unfold　its　meaning
in　the　listener's　mind。　　For　there　are　short　single　words　（all　the
world　remembers　Rachel's　Helas！）　which　are　like　those　Japanese　toys
that　look　like　nothing　of　any　significance　as　you　throw　them　on　the
water；　but　which　after　a　little　time　open　out　into　various　strange
and　unexpected　figures；　and　then　you　find　that　each　little　shred　had
a　complicated　story　to　tell　of　itself。

…Yes；said　I；　at　the　close　of　this　silent　interval；　during　which　the
monosyllable　had　been　opening　out　its　meanings；She。　　When　I　think
of　talking；　it　is　of　course　with　a　woman。　　For　talking　at　its　best
being　an　inspiration；　it　wants　a　corresponding　divine　quality　of
receptiveness；　and　where　will　you　find　this　but　in　woman？

The　Master　laughed　a　pleasant　little　laugh；not　a　harsh；　sarcastic
one；　but　playful；　and　tempered　by　so　kind　a　look　that　it　seemed　as　if
every　wrinkled　line　about　his　old　eyes　repeated；　〃God　bless　you；〃　as
the　tracings　on　the　walls　of　the　Alhambra　repeat　a　sentence　of　the
Koran。

I　said　nothing；　but　looked　the　question；　What　are　you　laughing　at？

Why；　I　laughed　because　I　couldn't　help　saying　to　myself　that　a
woman　whose　mind　was　taken　up　with　thinking　how　she　looked；　and　how
her　pretty　neighbor　looked；　wouldn't　have　a　great　deal　of　thought　to
spare　for　all　your　fine　discourse。

Come；　now；said　I；a　man　who　contradicts　himself　in　the　course　of
two　minutes　must　have　a　screw　loose　in　his　mental　machinery。　　I　never
feel　afraid　that　such　a　thing　can　happen　to　me；　though　it　happens
often　enough　when　I　turn　a　thought　over　suddenly；　as　you　did　that
five…cent　piece　the　other　day；　that　it　reads　differently　on　its　two
sides。　　What　I　meant　to　say　is　something　like　this。　　A　woman；
notwithstanding　she　is　the　best　of　listeners；　knows　her　business；　and
it　is　a　woman's　business　to　please。　　I　don't　say　that　it　is　not　her
business　to　vote；　but　I　do　say　that　a　woman　who　does　not　please　is　a
false　note　in　the　harmonies　of　nature。　　She　may　not　have　youth；　or
beauty；　or　even　manner；　but　she　must　have　something　in　her　voice　or
expression；　or　both；　which　it　makes　you　feel　better　disposed　towards
your　race　to　look　at　or　listen　to。　　She　knows　that　as　well　as　we　do；
and　her　first　question　after　you　have　been　talking　your　soul　into　her
consciousness　is；　Did　I　please？　　A　woman　never　forgets　her　sex。　　She
would　rather　talk　with　a　man　than　an　angel；　any　day。

This　frightful　speech　of　mine　reached　the　ear　of　our　Scheherezade；
who　said　that　it　was　perfectly　shocking　and　that　I　deserved　to　be