a new england girlhood-第4节

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ene　of　a　tragedy　to　me；　through　the　blind　fondness　of　one　of　these。

The　adjective　is　literal。　This　dear　old　lady；　almost　sightless；　sitting　in　a　low　chair　far　in　the　chimney　corner；　where　she　had　been　placed　on　her　first　call　to　see　the　new　baby；　took　me　upon　her　lap；　andso　they　sayunconsciously　let　me　slip　off　into　the　coals。　I　was　rescued　unsinged；　however；　and　it　was　one　of　the　earliest　accomplishments　of　my　infancy　to　thread　my　poor；　half…　blind　Aunt　Stanley's　needles　for　her。　We　were　close　neighbors　and　gossips　until　my　fourth　year。　Many　an　hour　I　sat　by　her　side　drawing　a　needle　and　thread　through　a　bit　of　calico；　under　the　delusion　that　I　was　sewing；　while　she　repeated　all　sorts　of　juvenile　singsongs　of　which　her　memory　seemed　full；　for　my　entertainment。　There　used　to　be　a　legend　current　among　my　brothers　and　sisters　that　this　aunt　unwittingly　taught　me　to　use　a　reprehensible　word。　One　of　her　ditties　began　with　the　lines：

〃Miss　Lucy　was　a　charming　child；　She　never　said；　'I　won't。'〃

After　bearing　this　once　or　twice；　the　willful　negative　was　continually　upon　my　lips；　doubtless　a　symptom　of　what　was　dormant　withina　will　perhaps　not　quite　so　aggressive　as　it　was　obstinate。　But　she　meant　only　to　praise　me　and　please　me；　and　dearly　I　loved　to　stay　with　her　in　her　cozy　up…stairs　room　across　the　lane；　that　the　sun　looked　into　nearly　all　day。

Another　adopted　aunt　lived　down…stairs　in　the　same　house。　This　one　was　a　sober　woman；　life　meant　business　to　her；　and　she　taught　me　to　sew　in　earnest；　with　a　knot　in　the　end　of　my　thread；　although　it　was　only　upon　clothing　for　my　ragchildren　…　absurd　creatures　of　my　own　invention；　limbless　and　destitute　of　features；　except　as　now　and　then　one　of　my　older　sisters　would；　upon　my　earnest　petition；　outline　a　face　for　one　of　them；　with　pen　and　ink。　I　loved　them；　nevertheless；　far　better　than　I　did　the　London　doll　that　lay　in　waxen　state　in　an　upper　drawer　at　home；the　fine　lady　that　did　not　wish　to　be　played　with；　but　only　to　be　looked　at　and　admired。

This　latter　aunt　I　regarded　as　a　woman　of　great　possessions。　She　owned　the　land　beside　us　and　opposite　us。　Her　well　was　close　to　our　door；　a　well　of　the　coldest　and　clearest　water　I　ever　drank；　and　it　abundantly　supplied　the　whole　neighborhood。

The　hill　behind　her　house　was　our　general　playground；　and　I　supposed　she　owned　that；　too；　since　through　her　dooryard；　and　over　her　stone　wall；　was　our　permitted　thoroughfare　thither。　I　imagined　that　those　were　her　buttercups　that　we　gathered　when　we　got　over　the　wall；　and　held　under　each　other's　chin；　to　see；　by　the　reflection；　who　was　fond　of　butter；　and　surely　the　yellow　toadflax　（we　called　it　〃lady's　slipper〃）　that　grew　in　the　rock…　crevices　was　hers；　for　we　found　it　nowhere　else。

The　blue　gill…over…the…ground　unmistakably　belonged　to　her；　for　it　carpeted　an　unused　triangular　corner　of　her　garden　inclosed　by　a　leaning　fence　gray　and　gold　with　sea…side　lichens。　Its　blue　was　beautiful；　but　its　pungent　earthy　odorI　can　smell　it　now　　repelled　us　from　the　damp　corner　where　it　grew。　It　made　us　think　of　graves　and　ghosts；　and　I　think　we　were　forbidden　to　go　there。　We　much　preferred　to　sit　on　the　sunken　curbstones；　in　the　shade　of　the　broad…leaved　burdocks；　and　shape　their　spiny　balls　into　chairs　and　cradles　and　sofas　for　our　dollies；　or　to　〃play　school〃　on　the　doorsteps；　or　to　climb　over　the　wall　1；　and　to　feel　the　freedom　of　the　hill。

We　were　a　neighborhood　of　large　families；　and　most　of　us　enjoyed　the　privilege　of　〃a　little　wholesome　neglect。〃　Our　tether　was　a　long　one；　and　when；　grown　a　little　older；　we　occasionally　asked　to　have　it　lengthened；　a　maternal　〃I　don't　care〃　amounted　to　almost　unlimited　liberty。

The　hill　itself　was　well…nigh　boundless　in　its　capacities　for　juvenile　occupation。　Besides　its　miniature　precipices；　that　walled　in　some　of　the　neighbors'　gardens；　and　its　slanting　slides；　worn　smooth　by　the　feet　of　many　childish　generations；　there　were　partly　quarried　ledges；　which　had　shaped　themselves　into　rock…stairs；　carpeted　with　lovely　mosses；　in　various　patterns。　These　were　the　winding　ways　up　our　castle…towers；　with　breakfast…rooms　and　boudoirs　along　the　landings；　where　we　set　our　tables　for　expected　guests　with　bits　of　broken　china；　and　left　our　numerous　rag…children　tucked　in　asleep　under　mullein　blankets　or　plantain…coverlets；　while　we　ascended　to　the　topmost　turret　to　watch　for　our　ships　coming　in　from　sea。

For　leagues　of　ocean　were　visible　from　the　tiptop　of　the　ledge；　a　tiny　cleft　peak　that　held　always　little　rain…pool　for　thirsty　birds　that　now　and　then　stopped　as　they　flew　over；　to　dip　their　beaks　and　glance　shyly　at　us；　as　if　they　wished　to　share　our　games。　We　could　see　the　steeples　and　smokes　of　Salem　in　the　distance；　and　the　bill；　as　it　desended；　lost　itself　in　mowing　fields　that　slid　again　into　the　river。　Beyond　that　was　Rial　Side　and　Folly　Hill；　and　they　looked　so　very　far　off！

They　called　it　〃over　to　Green's〃　across　the　river。　I　thought　it　was　because　of　the　thick　growth　of　dark　green　junipers；　that　covered　the　cliff…side　down　to　the　water's　edge；　but　they　were　only　giving　the　name　of　the　farmer　who　owned　the　land；　Whenever　there　was　an　unusual　barking　of　dogs　in　the　distance；　they　said　it　was　〃over　to　Green's。〃　That　barking　of　dogs　made　the　place　seem　very　mysterious　to　me。

Our　lane　ran　parallel　with　the　hill　and　the　mowing　fields；　and　down　our　lane　we　were　always　free　to　go。　It　was　a　genuine　lane；　all　ups　and　downs；　and　too　narrow　for　a　street；　although　at　last　they　have　leveled　it　and　widened　it；　and　made　a　commonplace　thoroughfare　of　it。　I　am　glad　that　my　baby　life　knew　it　in　all　its　queer；　original　irregularities；　for　it　seemed　to　have　a　character　of　its　own；　like　many　of　its　inhabitants；　all　the　more　charming　because　it　was　unlike　anything　but　itself。　The　hill；　too；　is　lost　now；　buried　under　houses。

Our　lane　came　to　an　end　at　some　bars　that　let　us　into　another　lane；or　rather　a　footpath　or　cowpath；　bordered　with　cornfields　and　orchards。　We　were　still　on　home　ground；　for　my　father's　vegetable　garden　and　orchard　were　here。　After　a　long　straight　stretch；　the　path　suddenly　took　an　abrupt　turn；　widening　into　a　cart　road；　then　to　a　tumble…down　wharf；　and　there　was　the　river！

An　〃arm　of　the　sea〃　I　was　told　that　our　river　was；　and　it　did　seem　to　reach　around　the　town　and　hold　it　in　a　liquid　embrace。　Twice　a　day　the　tide　came　in　and　filled　its　muddy　bed　with　a　sparkling　flood。　So　it　was　a　river　only　half　the　time；　but　at　high　tide　it　was　a　river　indeed；　all　that　a　child　could　wish；　with　its　boats　and　its　sloops；　and　now　and　then　that　most　available　craft　for　a　crew　of　childrena　gundalow。　We　easily　transformed　the　spelling　into　〃gondola；〃　and　in　fancy　were　afloat　on　Venetian　waters；　under　some　overhanging　balcony；　perhaps　at　the　very　Palace　of　the　Doges；willingly　blind　to　the　reality　of　a　mudscow　leaning　against　some　rickety　wharf　posts；　covered　with　barnacles。

Sometimes　a　neighbor　boy　who　was　the　fortunate　owner　of　a　boat　would　row　us　down　the　river　a　fearful；　because　a　forbidden；　joy。　The　widening　waters　made　us　tremble　with　dread　and　longing　for　what　might　be　beyond；　for　when　we　had　passed　under　the　piers　of　the　bridge；　the　estuary　broadened　into　the　harbor　and　the　open　sea。　Then　somebody　on　board　would　tell　a　story　of　children　who　had　drifted　away　beyond　the　harbor…bar　and　the　light…house；　and　were　drowned；　and　our　boyish　helmsman　would　begin　to　look　grave　and　anxious；　and　would　turn　his　boat　and　row　us　back　swiftly　to　the　safe　gundalow　and　tumbledown　wharf。

The　cars　rush　into　the　station　now；　right　over　our　riverside　playground。　I　can　often　hear　the　mirthful　shout　of　boys　and　girls　under　the　shriek　of　the　steam　whistle。　No　dream　of　a　railroad　had　then　come　to　the　quiet　old　town；　but　it　was　a　wild　train　of　children　that　ran　homeward　in　the　twilight　up　the　narrow　lane；　with　wind…shod　feet；　and　hair　flying　like　the　manes　of　young　colts；　and　light　hearts　bounding　to　their　own　footsteps。　How　good　and　dear　our　plain；　two…story　dwelling…house　looked　to　us　as　we　came　in　sight　of　it；　and　what　sweet　odors　stole　out　to　meet　us　from　the　white…fenced　inclosure　of　our　small　garden；from　peach…　trees　and　lilac…bushes　in　bloom；　from　bergamot　and　balm　and　beds　of　camomile！

Sometimes　we　would　find　the　pathetic　figure　of　white…haired　Larkin　Moore；　the　insane　preacher；　his　two　canes　lain　aside；　waiting；　in　our　dooryard　for　any　audience　that　he　could　gather：　boys　and　girls　were　as　welcome　as　anybody。　He　would　seat　us　in　a　row　on　the　green　slope；　and　give　us　a　half　hour　or　so　of　incoherent　exhortation；　to　which　we　attended　respectfully；　if　not　reverently；　for　his　whole　manner　showed　that；　though　demented；　he　was　deeply　in　earnest。　He　seemed　there　in　the　twilight　like　a　dazed　angel　who　had　lost　his　way；　and　had　half　forgotten　his　errand；　which　yet　he　must　try　to　tell　to　anybody　who　would　listen。

I　have　heard　my　mother　say　that　sometimes　he　would　ask　if　he　might　take　her　baby　in　his　arms　and　sing　to　it；　and　that　though　she　was　half　afraid　herself；　the　babyI　like　to　fancy　I　was　that　babyseemed　to　enjoy　it；　and　played　gleefully　with　the　old　man's　flowing　gray　locks。

Good　Larkin　Moore　was　well　known　through　the　two　neighboring　counties；　Essex　and　Middlesex。　We　saw　him