staccato notes of a vanished summer-第1节

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Staccato　Notes　of　a　Vanished　Summer

by　William　Dean　Howells







Monday　afternoon　the　storm　which　had　been　beating　up　against　the
southeasterly　wind　nearly　all　day　thickened；　fold　upon　fold；　in　the
northwest。　　The　gale　increased；　and　blackened　the　harbor　and　whitened　the
open　sea　beyond；　where　sail　after　sail　appeared　round　the　reef　of
Whaleback　Light；　and　ran　in　a　wild　scamper　for　the　safe　anchorages
within。

Since　noon　cautious　coasters　of　all　sorts　had　been　dropping　in　with　a
casual　air；　the　coal　schooners　and　barges　had　rocked　and　nodded　knowingly
to　one　another；　with　their　taper　and　truncated　masts；　on　the　breast　of
the　invisible　swell；　and　the　flock　of　little　yachts　and　pleasure…boats
which　always　fleck　the　bay　huddled　together　in　the　safe　waters。　　The
craft　that　came　scurrying　in　just　before　nightfall　were　mackerel　seiners
from　Gloucester。　　They　were　all　of　one　graceful　shape　and　one　size；　they
came　with　all　sail　set；　taking　the　waning　light　like　sunshine　on　their
flying…jibs；　and　trailing　each　two　dories　behind　them；　with　their　seines
piled　in　black　heaps　between　the　thwarts。　　As　soon　as　they　came　inside
their　jibs　weakened　and　fell；　and　the　anchor…chains　rattled　from　their
bows。　　Before　the　dark　hid　them　we　could　have　counted　sixty　or　seventy
ships　in　the　harbor；　and　as　the　night　fell　they　improvised　a　little
Venice　under　the　hill　with　their　lights；　which　twinkled　rhythmically；
like　the　lamps　in　the　basin　of　St。　Mark；　between　the　Maine　and　New
Hampshire　coasts。

There　was　a　dash　of　rain；　and　we　thought　the　storm　had　begun；　but　that
ended　it；　as　so　many　times　this　summer　a　dash　of　rain　has　ended　a　storm。
The　morning　came　veiled　in　a　fog　that　kept　the　shipping　at　anchor　through
the　day；　but　the　next　night　the　weather　cleared。　　We　woke　to　the　clucking
of　tackle；　and　saw　the　whole　fleet　standing　dreamily　out　to　sea。　　When
they　were　fairly　gone；　the　summer；　which　had　held　aloof　in　dismay　of　the
sudden　cold；　seemed　to　return　and　possess　the　land　again；　and　the
succession　of　silver　days　and　crystal　nights　resumed　the　tranquil　round
which　we　thought　had　ceased。




I。

One　says　of　every　summer；　when　it　is　drawing　near　its　end；　〃There　never
was　such　a　summer〃；　but　if　the　summer　is　one　of　those　which　slip　from　the
feeble　hold　of　elderly　hands；　when　the　days　of　the　years　may　be　reckoned
with　the　scientific　logic　of　the　insurance　tables　and　the　sad　conviction
of　the　psalmist；　one　sees　it　go　with　a　passionate　prescience　of　never
seeing　its　like　again　such　as　the　younger　witness　cannot　know。　　Each　new
summer　of　the　few　left　must　be　shorter　and　swifter　than　the　last：　its
Junes　will　be　thirty　days　long；　and　its　Julys　and　Augusts　thirty…one；　in
compliance　with　the　almanac；　but　the　days　will　be　of　so　small　a　compass
that　fourteen　of　them　will　rattle　round　in　a　week　of　the　old　size　like
shrivelled　peas　in　a　pod。

To　be　sure　they　swell　somewhat　in　the　retrospect；　like　the　same　peas　put
to　soak；　and　I　am　aware　now　of　some　June　days　of　those　which　we　first
spent　at　Kittery　Point　this　year；　which　were　nearly　twenty…four　hours
long。　　Even　the　days　of　declining　years　linger　a　little　here；　where　there
is　nothing　to　hurry　them；　and　where　it　is　pleasant　to　loiter；　and　muse
beside　the　sea　and　shore；　which　are　so　netted　together　at　Kittery　Point
that　they　hardly　know　themselves　apart。　　The　days；　whatever　their　length；
are　divided；　not　into　hours；　but　into　mails。　　They　begin；　without　regard
to　the　sun；　at　eight　o'clock；　when　the　first　mail　comes　with　a　few
letters　and　papers　which　had　forgotten　themselves　the　night　before。　　At
half…past　eleven　the　great　mid…day　mail　arrives；　at　four　o'clock　there　is
another　indifferent　and　scattering　post；　much　like　that　at　eight　in　the
morning；　and　at　seven　the　last　mail　arrives　with　the　Boston　evening
papers　and　the　New　York　morning　papers；　to　make　you　forget　any　letters
you　were　looking　for。　　The　opening　of　the　mid…day　mail　is　that　which　most
throngs　with　summer　folks　the　little　postoffice　under　the　elms；　opposite
the　weather…beaten　mansion　of　Sir　William　Pepperrell；　but　the　evening
mail　attracts　a　large　and　mainly　disinterested　circle　of　natives。　　The
day's　work　on　land　and　sea　is　then　over；　and　the　village　leisure；　perched
upon　fences　and　stayed　against　house　walls；　is　of　a　picturesqueness　which
we　should　prize　if　we　saw　it　abroad；　and　which　I　am　not　willing　to　slight
on　our　own　ground。




II。

The　type　is　mostly　of　a　seafaring　brown；　a　complexion　which　seems　to　be
inherited　rather　than　personally　acquired；　for　the　commerce　of　Kittery
Point　perished　long　ago；　and　the　fishing　fleets　that　used　to　fit　out　from
her　wharves　have　almost　as　long　ago　passed　to　Gloucester。　　All　that　is
left　of　the　fishing　interest　is　the　weir　outside　which　supplies；　fitfully
and　uncertainly；　the　fish　shipped　fresh　to　the　nearest　markets。　　But　in
spite　of　this　the　tint　taken　from　the　suns　and　winds　of　the　sea　lingers
on　the　local　complexion；　and　the　local　manner　is　that　freer　and　easier
manner　of　people　who　have　known　other　coasts；　and　are　in　some　sort
citizens　of　the　world。　　It　is　very　different　from　the　inland　New　England
manner；　as　different　as　the　gentle；　slow　speech　of　the　shore　from　the
clipped　nasals　of　the　hill…country。　　The　lounging　native　walk　is　not　the
heavy　plod　taught　by　the　furrow；　but　has　the　lurch　and　the　sway　of　the
deck　in　it。

Nothing　could　be　better　suited　to　progress　through　the　long　village；
which　rises　and　sinks　beside　the　shore　like　a　landscape　with　its　sea…legs
on；　and　nothing　could　be　more　charming　and　friendly　than　this　village。
It　is　quite　untainted　as　yet　by　the　summer　cottages　which　have　covered　so
much　of　the　coast；　and　made　it　look　as　if　the　aesthetic　suburbs　of　New
York　and　Boston　had　gone　ashore　upon　it。　　There　are　two　or　three　old…
fashioned　summer　hotels；　but　the　summer　life　distinctly　fails　to
characterize　the　place。　　The　people　live　where　their　forefathers　have
lived　for　two　hundred　and　fifty　years；　and　for　the　century　since　the
baronial　domain　of　Sir　William　was　broken　up　and　his　possessions
confiscated　by　the　young　Republic；　they　have　dwelt　in　small　red　or　white
houses　on　their　small　holdings　along　the　slopes　and　levels　of　the　low
hills　beside　the　water；　where　a　man　may　pass　with　the　least　inconvenience
and　delay　from　his　threshold　to　his　gunwale。　　Not　all　the　houses　are
small；　some　are　spacious　and　ambitious　to　be　of　ugly　modern　patterns；　but
most　are　simple　and　homelike。　　Their　gardens；　following　the　example　of
Sir　William's　vanished　pleasaunce；　drop　southward　to　the　shore；　where　the
lobster…traps　and　the　hen…coops　meet　in　unembarrassed　promiscuity。　　But
the　fish…flakes　which　once　gave　these　inclines　the　effect　of　terraced
vineyards　have　passed　as　utterly　as　the　proud　parterres　of　the　old
baronet；　and　Kittery　Point　no　longer　〃makes〃　a　cod　or　a　haddock　for　the
market。

Three　groceries；　a　butcher　shop；　and　a　small　variety　store　study　the　few
native　wants；　and　with　a　little　money　one　may　live　in　as　great　real
comfort　here　as　for　much　in　a　larger　place。　　The　street　takes　care　of
itself；　the　seafaring　housekeeping　of　New　England　is　not　of　the
insatiable　Dutch　type　which　will　not　spare　the　stones　of　the　highway；　but
within　the　houses　are　of　almost　terrifying　cleanliness。　　The　other　day　I
found　myself　in　a　kitchen　where　the　stove　shone　like　oxidized　silver；　the
pump　and　sink　were　clad　in　oilcloth　as　with　blue　tiles；　the　walls　were
papered；　the　stainless　floor　was　strewn　with　home…made　hooked　and　braided
rugs；　and　I　felt　the　place　so　altogether　too　good　for　me　that　I　pleaded
to　stay　there　for　the　transaction　of　my　business；　lest　a　sharper　sense　of
my　unfitness　should　await　me　in　the　parlor。

The　village；　with　scarcely　an　interval　of　farm…lands；　stretches　four
miles　along　the　water…side　to　Portsmouth；　but　it　seems　to　me　that　just　at
the　point　where　our　lines　have　fallen　there　is　the　greatest　concentration
of　its　character。　　This　has　apparently　not　been　weakened；　it　has　been
accented；　by　the　trolley…line　which　passes　through　its　whole　length；　with
gayly　freighted　cars　coming　and　going　every　half…hour。　　I　suppose　they
are　not　longer　than　other　trolley…cars；　but　they　each　affect　me　like　a
procession。　　They　are　cheerful　presences　by　day；　and　by　night　they　light
up　the　dim；　winding　street　with　the　flare　of　their　electric　bulbs；　and
bring　to　the　country　a　vision　of　city　splendor　upon　terms　that　do　not
humiliate　or　disquiet。　　During　July　and　August　they　are　mostly　filled
with　summer　folks　from　a　great　summer　resort　beyond　us；　and　their　lights
reveal　the　pretty　fashions　of　hats　and　gowns　in　all　the　charm　of　the
latest　lines　and　tints。　　But　there　is　an　increasing　democracy　in　these
splendors；　and　one　might　easily　mistake　a　passing　excursionist　from　some
neighboring　inland　town；　or　even　a　local　native　with　the　instinct　of
clothes；　for　a　social　leader　from　York　Harbor。

With　the　falling　leaf；　the　barge…like　open　cars　close　up　into　well…warmed
saloons；　and　falter　to　hourly　intervals　in　their　course。　　But　we　are
still　far　from　the　falling　leaf；　we　are　hardly　come　to　the　blushing　or
fading　leaf。　　Here　and　there　an　impassioned　maple　confesses　the　autumn；
the