the poet at the breakfast table-第56节

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the　fact　that　many　a　daughter　of　earth　finds　it　a　sweet　foretaste　of
heaven　to　wear　about　her　frail　earthly　tabernacle　these　glittering
reminders　of　the　celestial　city？

Mrs。　　Midas　Goldenrod　was　not　so　entirely　peculiar　and　anomalous　in
her　likes　and　dislikes；　the　only　trouble　was　that　she　mixed　up　these
accidents　of　life　too　much　with　life　itself；　which　is　so　often
serenely　or　actively　noble　and　happy　without　reference　to　them。　　She
valued　persons　chiefly　according　to　their　external　conditions；　and　of
course　the　very　moment　her　relative；　the　Lady　of　our　breakfast…table；
began　to　find　herself　in　a　streak　of　sunshine　she　came　forward　with　a
lighted　candle　to　show　her　which　way　her　path　lay　before　her。

The　Lady　saw　all　this；　how　plainly；　how　painfully！　yet　she　exercised
a　true　charity　for　the　weakness　of　her　relative。　　Sensible　people
have　as　much　consideration　for　the　frailties　of　the　rich　as　for　those
of　the　poor。　　There　is　a　good　deal　of　excuse　for　them。　　Even　you　and
I；　philosophers　and　philanthropists　as　we　may　think　ourselves；　have　a
dislike　for　the　enforced　economies；　proper　and　honorable　though　they
certainly　are；　of　those　who　are　two　or　three　degrees　below　us　in　the
scale　of　agreeable　living。

These　are　very　worthy　persons　you　have　been　living　with；　my　dear；
said　Mrs。　Midas＇the　〃My　dear　〃　was　an　expression　which　had　flowered
out　more　luxuriantly　than　ever　before　in　the　new　streak　of　sunshine＇
eminently　respectable　parties；　I　have　no　question；　but　then　we
shall　want　you　to　move　as　soon　as　possible　to　our　quarter　of　the
town；　where　we　can　see　more　of　you　than　we　have　been　able　to　in　this
queer　place。

It　was　not　very　pleasant　to　listen　to　this　kind　of　talk；　but　the　Lady
remembered　her　annual　bouquet；　and　her　occasional　visits　from　the
rich　lady；　and　restrained　the　inclination　to　remind　her　of　the　humble
sphere　from　which　she　herself；　the　rich　and　patronizing　personage；
had　worked　her　way　up　（if　it　was　up）　into　that　world　which　she　seemed
to　think　was　the　only　one　where　a　human　being　could　find　life　worth
having。　　Her　cheek　flushed　a　little；　however；　as　she　said　to　Mrs。
Midas　that　she　felt　attached　to　the　place　where　she　had　been　living
so　long。　　She　doubted；　she　was　pleased　to　say；　whether　she　should
find　better　company　in　any　circle　she　was　like　to　move　in　than　she
left　behind　her　at　our　boarding…house。　　I　give　the　old　Master　the
credit　of　this　compliment。　　If　one　does　not　agree　with　half　of　what
he　says；　at　any　rate　he　always　has　something　to　say；　and　entertains
and　lets　out　opinions　and　whims　and　notions　of　one　kind　and　another
that　one　can　quarrel　with　if　he　is　out　of　humor；　or　carry　away　to
think　about　if　he　happens　to　be　in　the　receptive　mood。

But　the　Lady　expressed　still　more　strongly　the　regret　she　should　feel
at　leaving　her　young　friend；　our　Scheherezade。　　I　cannot　wonder　at
this。　　The　Young　Girl　has　lost　what　little　playfulness　she　had　in　the
earlier　months　of　my　acquaintance　with　her。　　I　often　read　her　stories
partly　from　my　interest　in　her；　and　partly　because　I　find　merit
enough　in　them　to　deserve　something；　better　than　the　rough　handling
they　got　from　her　coarse…fibred　critic；　whoever　he　was。　　I　see
evidence　that　her　thoughts　are　wandering　from　her　task；　that　she　has
fits　of　melancholy；　and　bursts　of　tremulous　excitement；　and　that　she
has　as　much　as　she　can　do　to　keep　herself　at　all　to　her　stated；
inevitable；　and　sometimes　almost　despairing　literary　labor。　　I　have
had　some　acquaintance　with　vital　phenomena　of　this　kind；　and　know
something　of　the　nervous　nature　of　young　women　and　its　〃magnetic
storms；〃　if　I　may　borrow　an　expression　from　the　physicists；　to
indicate　the　perturbations　to　which　they　are　liable。　　She　is　more　in
need　of　friendship　and　counsel　now　than　ever　before；　it　seems　to　me；
and　I　cannot　bear　to　think　that　the　Lady；　who　has　become　like　a
mother　to　her；　is　to　leave　her　to　her　own　guidance。

It　is　plain　enough　what　is　at　the　bottom　of　this　disturbance。　　The
astronomical　lessons　she　has　been　taking　have　become　interesting
enough　to　absorb　too　much　of　her　thoughts；　and　she　finds　them
wandering　to　the　stars　or　elsewhere；　when　they　should　be　working
quietly　in　the　editor's　harness。

The　Landlady　has　her　own　views　on　this　matter　which　she　communicated
to　me　something　as　follows：

I　don't　quite　like　to　tell　folks　what　a　lucky　place　my　boarding…
house　is；　for　fear　I　should　have　all　sorts　of　people　crowding　in　to
be　my　boarders　for　the　sake　of　their　chances。　　Folks　come　here　poor
and　they　go　away　rich。　　Young　women　come　here　without　a　friend　in　the
world；　and　the　next　thing　that　happens　is　a　gentleman　steps　up　to　'em
and　says；　〃If　you'll　take　me　for　your　pardner　for　life；　I'll　give　you
a　good　home　and　love　you　ever　so　much　besides〃；　and　off　goes　my　young
lady…boarder　into　a　fine　three…story　house；　as　grand　as　the
governor's　wife；　with　everything　to　make　her　comfortable；　and　a
husband　to　care　for　her　into　the　bargain。　　That's　the　way　it　is　with
the　young　ladies　that　comes　to　board　with　me；　ever　since　the
gentleman　that　wrote　the　first　book　that　advertised　my　establishment
（and　never　charged　me　a　cent　for　it　neither）　merried　the　Schoolma'am。
And　I　think　but　that's　between　you　and　methat　it　's　going　to　be　the
same　thing　right　over　again　between　that　young　gentleman　and　this
young　girl　hereif　she　doos　n't　kill　herself　with　writing　for　them
news　papers；it　's　too　bad　they　don't　pay　her　more　for　writing　her
stories；　for　I　read　one　of　'em　that　made　me　cry　so　the　Doctormy
Doctor　Benjaminsaid；　〃Ma；　what　makes　your　eyes　look　so？〃　and　wanted
to　rig　a　machine　up　and　look　at　'em；　but　I　told　him　what　the　matter
was；　and　that　he　needn't　fix　up　his　peeking　contrivances　on　my
account；anyhow　she's　a　nice　young　woman　as　ever　lived；　and　as
industrious　with　that　pen　of　hers　as　if　she　was　at　work　with　a
sewing…machine；and　there　ain't　much　difference；　for　that　matter；
between　sewing　on　shirts　and　writing　on　stories；one　way　you　work
with　your　foot；　and　the　other　way　you　work　with　your　fingers；　but　I
rather　guess　there's　more　headache　in　the　stories　than　there　is　in
the　stitches；　because　you　don't　have　to　think　quite　so　hard　while
your　foot's　going　as　you　do　when　your　fingers　is　at　work；　scratch；
scratch；　scratch；　scribble；　scribble；　scribble。

It　occurred　to　me　that　this　last　suggestion　of　the　Landlady　was　worth
considering　by　the　soft…handed；　broadcloth…clad　spouters　to　the
laboring　classes；so　called　in　distinction　from　the　idle　people　who
only　contrive　the　machinery　and　discover　the　processes　and　lay　out
the　work　and　draw　the　charts　and　organize　the　various　movements　which
keep　the　world　going　and　make　it　tolerable。　　The　organ…blower　works
harder　with　his　muscles；　for　that　matter；　than　the　organ　player；　and
may　perhaps　be　exasperated　into　thinking　himself　a　downtrodden　martyr
because　he　does　not　receive　the　same　pay　for　his　services。

I　will　not　pretend　that　it　needed　the　Landlady's　sagacious　guess
about　the　Young　Astronomer　and　his　pupil　to　open　my　eyes　to　certain
possibilities；　if　not　probabilities；　in　that　direction。　　Our
Scheherezade　kept　on　writing　her　stories　according　to　agreement；　so
many　pages　for　so　many　dollars；　but　some　of　her　readers　began　to
complain　that　they　could　not　always　follow　her　quite　so　well　as　in
her　earlier　efforts。　　It　seemed　as　if　she　must　have　fits　of　absence。
In　one　instance　her　heroine　began　as　a　blonde　and　finished　as　a
brunette；　not　in　consequence　of　the　use　of　any　cosmetic；　but　through
simple　inadvertence。　　At　last　it　happened　in　one　of　her　stories　that
a　prominent　character　who　had　been　killed　in　an　early　page；　not
equivocally；　but　mortally；　definitively　killed；　done　for；　and
disposed　of；　reappeared　as　if　nothing　had　happened　towards　the　close
of　her　narrative。　　Her　mind　was　on　something　else；　and　she　had　got
two　stories　mixed　up　and　sent　her　manuscript　without　having　looked　it
over。　　She　told　this　mishap　to　the　Lady；　as　something　she　was
dreadfully　ashamed　of　and　could　not　possibly　account　for。　　It　had
cost　her　a　sharp　note　from　the　publisher；　and　would　be　as　good　as　a
dinner　to　some　half…starved　Bohemian　of　the　critical　press。

The　Lady　listened　to　all　this　very　thoughtfully；　looking　at　her　with
great　tenderness；　and　said；　〃My　poor　child！〃　Not　another　word　then；
but　her　silence　meant　a　good　deal。

When　a　man　holds　his　tongue　it　does　not　signify　much。　　But　when　a
woman　dispenses　with　the　office　of　that　mighty　member；　when　she
sheathes　her　natural　weapon　at　a　trying　moment；　it　means　that　she
trusts　to　still　more　formidable　enginery；　to　tears　it　may　be；　a
solvent　more　powerful　than　that　with　which　Hannibal　softened　the
Alpine　rocks；　or　to　the　heaving　bosom；　the　sight　of　which　has　subdued
so　many　stout　natures；　or；　it　may　be；　to　a　sympathizing；　quieting
look　which　says　〃Peace；　be　still！〃　to　the　winds　and　waves　of　the
little　inland　ocean；　in　a　language　that　means　more　than　speech。

While　these　matters　were　going　on　the　Master　and　I　had　many　talks　on
many　subjects。　　He　had　found　me　a　pretty　good　listener；　for　I　had
learned　that　the　best　way　of　getting　at　what　was　worth　having　from
him　was　to　wind　him　up　with　a　question　and　let　him　run　down　all　of
himself