the complete writings-4-第13节

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　fishing。　　And　one　reason　he　likes　this　work　is；　that　somebody　else　does　the　most　of　it。　　It　is　a　sort　of　work　in　which　he　can　appear　to　be　very　active；　and　yet　not　do　much。

And　it　exactly　suits　the　temperament　of　a　real　boy　to　be　very　busy　about　nothing。　　If　the　power；　for　instance；　that　is　expended　in　play　by　a　boy　between　the　ages　of　eight　and　fourteen　could　be　applied　to　some　industry；　we　should　see　wonderful　results。　　But　a　boy　is　like　a　galvanic　battery　that　is　not　in　connection　with　anything；　he　generates　electricity　and　plays　it　off　into　the　air　with　the　most　reckless　prodigality。　　And　I；　for　one；　would　n't　have　it　otherwise。　It　is　as　much　a　boy's　business　to　play　off　his　energies　into　space　as　it　is　for　a　flower　to　blow；　or　a　catbird　to　sing　snatches　of　the　tunes　of　all　the　other　birds。

In　my　day　maple…sugar…making　used　to　be　something　between　picnicking　and　being　shipwrecked　on　a　fertile　island；　where　one　should　save　from　the　wreck　tubs　and　augers；　and　great　kettles　and　pork；　and　hen's　eggs　and　rye…and…indian　bread；　and　begin　at　once　to　lead　the　sweetest　life　in　the　world。　　I　am　told　that　it　is　something　different　nowadays；　and　that　there　is　more　desire　to　save　the　sap；　and　make　good；　pure　sugar；　and　sell　it　for　a　large　price；　than　there　used　to　be；　and　that　the　old　fun　and　picturesqueness　of　the　business　are　pretty　much　gone。　　I　am　told　that　it　is　the　custom　to　carefully　collect　the　sap　and　bring　it　to　the　house；　where　there　are　built　brick　arches；　over　which　it　is　evaporated　in　shallow　pans；　and　that　pains　is　taken　to　keep　the　leaves；　sticks；　and　ashes　and　coals　out　of　it；　and　that　the　sugar　is　clarified；　and　that；　in　short；　it　is　a　money…making　business；　in　which　there　is　very　little　fun；　and　that　the　boy　is　not　allowed　to　dip　his　paddle　into　the　kettle　of　boiling　sugar　and　lick　off　the　delicious　sirup。　　The　prohibition　may　improve　the　sugar；　but　it　is　cruel　to　the　boy。

As　I　remember　the　New　England　boy　（and　I　am　very　intimate　with　one）；　he　used　to　be　on　the　qui　vive　in　the　spring　for　the　sap　to　begin　running。　　I　think　he　discovered　it　as　soon　as　anybody。　　Perhaps　he　knew　it　by　a　feeling　of　something　starting　in　his　own　veins；a　sort　of　spring　stir　in　his　legs　and　arms；　which　tempted　him　to　stand　on　his　head；　or　throw　a　handspring；　if　he　could　find　a　spot　of　ground　from　which　the　snow　had　melted。　　The　sap　stirs　early　in　the　legs　of　a　country…boy；　and　shows　itself　in　uneasiness　in　the　toes；　which　get　tired　of　boots；　and　want　to　come　out　and　touch　the　soil　just　as　soon　as　the　sun　has　warmed　it　a　little。　　The　country…boy　goes　barefoot　just　as　naturally　as　the　trees　burst　their　buds；　which　were　packed　and　varnished　over　in　the　fall　to　keep　the　water　and　the　frost　out。　Perhaps　the　boy　has　been　out　digging　into　the　maple…trees　with　his　jack…knife；　at　any　rate；　he　is　pretty　sure　to　announce　the　discovery　as　he　comes　running　into　the　house　in　a　great　state　of　excitementas　if　he　had　heard　a　hen　cackle　in　the　barnwith　〃Sap's　runnin'！〃

And　then；　indeed；　the　stir　and　excitement　begin。　　The　sap…buckets；　which　have　been　stored　in　the　garret　over　the　wood…house；　and　which　the　boy　has　occasionally　climbed　up　to　look　at　with　another　boy；　for　they　are　full　of　sweet　suggestions　of　the　annual　spring　frolic；the　sap…buckets　are　brought　down　and　set　out　on　the　south　side　of　the　house　and　scalded。　　The　snow　is　still　a　foot　or　two　deep　in　the　woods；　and　the　ox…sled　is　got　out　to　make　a　road　to　the　sugar　camp；　and　the　campaign　begins。　　The　boy　is　everywhere　present；　superintending　everything；　asking　questions；　and　filled　with　a　desire　to　help　the　excitement。

It　is　a　great　day　when　the　cart　is　loaded　with　the　buckets　and　the　procession　starts　into　the　woods。　　The　sun　shines　almost　unobstructedly　into　the　forest；　for　there　are　only　naked　branches　to　bar　it；　the　snow　is　soft　and　beginning　to　sink　down；　leaving　the　young　bushes　spindling　up　everywhere；　the　snowbirds　are　twittering　about；　and　the　noise　of　shouting　and　of　the　blows　of　the　axe　echoes　far　and　wide。　　This　is　spring；　and　the　boy　can　scarcely　contain　his　delight　that　his　out…door　life　is　about　to　begin　again。

In　the　first　place；　the　men　go　about　and　tap　the　trees；　drive　in　the　spouts；　and　hang　the　buckets　under。　　The　boy　watches　all　these　operations　with　the　greatest　interest。　　He　wishes　that　sometime；　when　a　hole　is　bored　in　a　tree；　the　sap　would　spout　out　in　a　stream　as　it　does　when　a　cider…barrel　is　tapped；　but　it　never　does；　it　only　drops；　sometimes　almost　in　a　stream；　but　on　the　whole　slowly；　and　the　boy　learns　that　the　sweet　things　of　the　world　have　to　be　patiently　waited　for；　and　do　not　usually　come　otherwise　than　drop　by　drop。

Then　the　camp　is　to　be　cleared　of　snow。　　The　shanty　is　re…covered　with　boughs。　　In　front　of　it　two　enormous　logs　are　rolled　nearly　together；　and　a　fire　is　built　between　them。　　Forked　sticks　are　set　at　each　end；　and　a　long　pole　is　laid　on　them；　and　on　this　are　hung　the　great　caldron　kettles。　　The　huge　hogsheads　are　turned　right　side　up；　and　cleaned　out　to　receive　the　sap　that　is　gathered。　　And　now；　if　there　is　a　good　〃sap　run；〃　the　establishment　is　under　full　headway。

The　great　fire　that　is　kindled　up　is　never　let　out；　night　or　day；　as　long　as　the　season　lasts。　　Somebody　is　always　cutting　wood　to　feed　it；　somebody　is　busy　most　of　the　time　gathering　in　the　sap；　somebody　is　required　to　watch　the　kettles　that　they　do　not　boil　over；　and　to　fill　them。　　It　is　not　the　boy；　however；　he　is　too　busy　with　things　in　general　to　be　of　any　use　in　details。　　He　has　his　own　little　sap…yoke　and　small　pails；　with　which　he　gathers　the　sweet　liquid。　　He　has　a　little　boiling…place　of　his　own；　with　small　logs　and　a　tiny　kettle。　In　the　great　kettles　the　boiling　goes　on　slowly；　and　the　liquid；　as　it　thickens；　is　dipped　from　one　to　another；　until　in　the　end　kettle　it　is　reduced　to　sirup；　and　is　taken　out　to　cool　and　settle；　until　enough　is　made　to　〃sugar　off。〃　To　〃sugar　off〃　is　to　boil　the　sirup　until　it　is　thick　enough　to　crystallize　into　sugar。　　This　is　the　grand　event；　and　is　done　only　once　in　two　or　three　days。

But　the　boy's　desire　is　to　〃sugar　off〃　perpetually。　　He　boils　his　kettle　down　as　rapidly　as　possible；　he　is　not　particular　about　chips；　scum；　or　ashes；　he　is　apt　to　burn　his　sugar；　but　if　he　can　get　enough　to　make　a　little　wax　on　the　snow；　or　to　scrape　from　the　bottom　of　the　kettle　with　his　wooden　paddle；　he　is　happy。　　A　good　deal　is　wasted　on　his　hands；　and　the　outside　of　his　face；　and　on　his　clothes；　but　he　does　not　care；　he　is　not　stingy。

To　watch　the　operations　of　the　big　fire　gives　him　constant　pleasure。　Sometimes　he　is　left　to　watch　the　boiling　kettles；　with　a　piece　of　pork　tied　on　the　end　of　a　stick；　which　he　dips　into　the　boiling　mass　when　it　threatens　to　go　over。　　He　is　constantly　tasting　of　it；　however；　to　see　if　it　is　not　almost　sirup。　　He　has　a　long　round　stick；　whittled　smooth　at　one　end；　which　he　uses　for　this　purpose；　at　the　constant　risk　of　burning　his　tongue。　　The　smoke　blows　in　his　face；　he　is　grimy　with　ashes；　he　is　altogether　such　a　mass　of　dirt；　stickiness；　and　sweetness；　that　his　own　mother　would　n't　know　him。

He　likes　to　boil　eggs　in　the　hot　sap　with　the　hired　man；　he　likes　to　roast　potatoes　in　the　ashes；　and　he　would　live　in　the　camp　day　and　night　if　he　were　permitted。　　Some　of　the　hired　men　sleep　in　the　bough　shanty　and　keep　the　fire　blazing　all　night。　　To　sleep　there　with　them；　and　awake　in　the　night　and　hear　the　wind　in　the　trees；　and　see　the　sparks　fly　up　to　the　sky；　is　a　perfect　realization　of　all　the　stories　of　adventures　he　has　ever　read。　　He　tells　the　other　boys　afterwards　that　he　heard　something　in　the　night　that　sounded　very　much　like　a　bear。　　The　hired　man　says　that　he　was　very　much　scared　by　the　hooting　of　an　owl。

The　great　occasions　for　the　boy；　though；　are　the　times　of　〃sugaring…　off。〃　　Sometimes　this　used　to　be　done　in　the　evening；　and　it　was　made　the　excuse　for　a　frolic　in　the　camp。　　The　neighbors　were　invited；　sometimes　even　the　pretty　girls　from　the　village；　who　filled　all　the　woods　with　their　sweet　voices　and　merry　laughter　and　little　affectations　of　fright。　　The　white　snow　still　lies　on　all　the　ground　except　the　warm　spot　about　the　camp。　　The　tree　branches　all　show　distinctly　in　the　light　of　the　fire；　which　sends　its　ruddy　glare　far　into　the　darkness；　and　lights　up　the　bough　shanty；　the　hogsheads；　the　buckets　on　the　trees；　and　the　group　about　the　boiling　kettles；　until　the　scene　is　like　something　taken　out　of　a　fairy　play。　　If　Rembrandt　could　have　seen　a　sugar　party　in　a　New　England　wood；　he　would　have　made　out　of　its　strong　contrasts　of　light　and　shade　one　of　the　finest　pictures　in　the　world。　　But　Rembrandt　was　not　born　in　Massachusetts；　people　hardly　ever　do　know　where　to　be　born　until　it　is　too　late。　Being　born　in　the　right　place　is　a　thing　that　has　been　very　much　neglected。

At　these　sugar　parties　every　one　was　expected　to　eat　as　much　sugar　as　possible；　and　those　who　are　practiced　in　it　can　eat　a　great　deal。　　It　is　a　peculiarity　about　eating　warm　maple　sugar；　that　though　you　may　eat　so　much　of　it　one　day　as　to　be　sick　and　loathe　the　thought　of　it；　you　will　want　it　the　next　day　more　than　ever。　　At　the　〃sugaring…off　〃　they　used　to　pour　the　hot　sugar　upon　the　snow；　where　it　congealed；　without　crystall