the village watch-tower-第4节

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her　into　his　yard！　。　。　。　Just　as　I　s'posed；　it's　that　little；　smirkin'

worthless　school…teacher　up　to　the　Mills。Don't　break　my　neck；　Diademy；

can't　you　see　out　the　other　winder？Yes；　he's　helpin'　her　out；　'n'　showin'

her　in。　　He　can't　'a'　ben　married　more'n　ten　minutes；　for　he's　goin'

clear　up　the　steps　to　open　the　door　for　her！〃



〃Wait　'n'　see　if　he　takes　his　horse　out；〃　said　Hannah　Sophia。

〃Mebbe　he'll　drive　her　back　in　a　few　minutes。　　。　。　。　No；　he's　onhitched！

。　。　。　There；　he's　hangin'　up　the　head…stall！〃



〃I've　ben　up　in　the　attic　chamber；〃　called　the　Widow　Buzzell；

as　she　descended　the　stairs；　〃she's　pulled　up　the　curtains；　and　took

off　her　hat　right　in　front　o'　the　winder；　's　bold　as　a　brass　kettle！

She's　come　to　stay！　　Ain't　that　Rube　Hobson　all　over；to　bring　another

woman　int'　this　village　'stid　o'　weedin'　one　of　'em　out　as　he'd　oughter。

He　ain't　got　any　more　public　sperit　than　ahedgehog；　'n'　never　had！〃



Almira　drew　on　her　mitts　excitedly；　tied　on　her　shaker；

and　started　for　the　door。



〃I'm　goin'　over　to　Eunice's；〃　she　said；　〃and　I'm　goin'

to　take　my　bottle　of　camphire。　　I　shouldn't　wonder　a　mite

if　I　found　her　in　a　dead　faint　on　the　kitchen　floor。

Nobody　need　tell　me　she　wa'n't　buildin'　hopes。〃



〃I'll　go　with　you；〃　said　the　Widow　Buzzell。

〃I'd　like　to　see　with　my　own　eyes　how　she　takes　it；

'n'　it'll　be　too　late　to　tell　if　I　wait　till　after　supper。

If　she'd　ben　more　open　with　me　'n'　ever　asked　for　my　advice；

I　could　'a'　told　her　it　wa'n't　the　first　time　Rube　Hobson　has

played　that　trick。〃



〃I'd　come　too　if　't　wa'n't　milkin'　but　Jot　ain't　home

from　the　Centre；　and　I've　got　to　do　his　chores；　come　in　as　you

go　along　back；　will　you？〃　asked　Diadema。



Hannah　Sophia　remained　behind；　promising　to　meet　them　at　the　post…office

and　hear　the　news。　　As　the　two　women　walked　down　the　hill　she　drew　the　old

envelope　from　the　Bible　and　read　the　wavering　words　scrawled　upon　it　in　old

Mrs。　Bascom's　rheumatic　and　uncertain　hand；





_the_　_milikins_　_Mills_　_Teecher。_





〃Well　Lucindy；　you　do　make　good　use　o'　your　winder；〃

she　exclaimed；　〃but　how　you　pitched　on　anything　so　onlikely

as　her　is　more'n　I　can　see。〃



〃Just　because　't　was　onlikely。　　A　man's　a　great　sight　likelier

to　do　an　onlikely　thing　than　he　is　a　likely　one；　when　it　comes

to　marryin'。　　In　the　first　place；　Rube　sent　his　children　to　school

up　to　the　Mills　'stid　of　to　the　brick　schoolhouse；　though　he　had

to　pay　a　little　something　to　get　'em　taken　in　to　another　deestrick。

They　used　to　come　down　at　night　with　their　hands　full　o'

'ward　o'　merit　cards。　　Do　you　s'pose　I　thought　they　got　'em

for　good　behavior；　or　for　knowin'　their　lessons？　　Then　aunt　Hitty

told　me　some　question　or　other　Rube　had　asked　examination　day。

Since　when　has　Rube　Hobson　'tended　examinations；　thinks　I。　　And

when　I　see　the　girl；　a　red…and…white　paper　doll　that　wouldn't　know

whether　to　move　the　churn…dasher　up　'n'　down　or　round　'n'　round；

I　made　up　my　mind　that　bein'　a　man　he'd　take　her　for　certain；

and　not　his　next…door　neighbor　of　a　sensible　age　and　a　house　'n'

farm　'n'　cow　'n'　buggy！〃



〃Sure　enough；〃　agreed　Hannah　Sophia；　〃though　that　don't

account　for　Eunice's　queer　actions；　'n'　the　pa'cels　'n'

the　fruit　cake。〃



〃When　I　make　out　a　case；〃　observed　Mrs。　Bascom　modestly；

〃I　ain't　one　to　leave　weak　spots　in　it。　　If　I　guess　at　all；

I　go　all　over　the　ground　'n'　stop　when　I　git　through。

Now；　sisters　or　no　sisters；　Maryabby　Emery　ain't　spoke　to　Eunice　sence

she　moved　to　Salem。　　But　if　Eunice　has　ben　bringin'　pa'cels　home；

Maryabby　must　'a'　paid　for　what　was　in　'em；　and　if　she's　ben　bakin'

fruit　cake　this　hot　day；　why　Maryabby　used　to　be　so　font　o'

fruit　cake　her　folks　were　afraid　she'd　have　fits　'n'　die。

I　shall　be　watchin'　here　as　usual　to…morrow　morning'；　'n'

if　Maryabby　don't　drive　int'　Eunice's　yard　before　noon　I　won't

brag　any　more　for　a　year　to　come。〃



Hannah　Sophia　gazed　at　old　Mrs。　Bascom　with　unstinted　admiration。

〃You　do　beat　all；〃　she　said；　〃and　I　wish　I　could　stay　all　night　'n'　see

how　it　turns　out；　but　Almiry　is　just　comin'　over　the　bridge；　'n'　I　must

start　'n'　meet　her。　　Good…by。　　I'm　glad　to　see　you　so　smart；　you　always

look　slim；　but　I　guess　you'll　tough　it　out's　long　's　the　rest　of　us。

I　see　your　log　was　all　right；　last　time　I　was　down　side　o'　the　river。〃





〃They　say　it　's　jest　goin'　to　break　in　two　in　the　middle；

and　fall　into　the　river；〃　cheerfully　responded　Lucinda。

〃They　say　it's　just　hanging'　on　by　a　thread。　　Well；　that's　what

they　've　ben　sayin'　about　me　these　ten　years；　'n'　here　I　be

still　hanging！　　It　don't　make　no　odds；　I　guess；　whether　it's

a　thread　or　a　rope　you　're　hangin'　by；　so　long　as　you　hang。〃



*　*　*





The　next　morning；　little　Mote　Hobson；　who　had　stayed　all　night

with　his　uncle　in　Union；　was　walking　home　by　the　side　of　the　river。

He　strolled　along；　the　happy；　tousle…headed；　barefooted　youngster；

eyes　one　moment　on　the　trees　in　the　hope　of　squirrels　and　birds'…nests；

the　next　on　the　ground　in　search　of　the　first　blueberries。

As　he　stooped　to　pick　up　a　bit　of　shining　quartz　to　add　to　the　collection

in　his　ragged　trousers'　pockets　he　glanced　across　the　river；

and　at　that　very　instant　Lucinda's　log　broke　gently　in　twain；

rolled　down　the　bank；　crumbling　as　it　went；　and；　dropping　in　like　a

tired　child；　was　carried　peacefully　along　on　the　river's　breast。



Mote　walked　more　quickly　after　that。　　It　was　quite　a　feather

in　his　cap　to　see；　with　his　own　eyes；　the　old　landmark

slip　from　its　accustomed　place　and　float　down　the　stream。

The　other　boys　would　miss　it　and　say；　〃It's　gone！〃

He　would　say；　〃I　saw　it　go！〃



Grandpa　Bascom　was　standing　at　the　top　of　the　hill。　　His　white　locks

were　uncovered；　and　he　was　in　his　shirt…sleeves。　Baby　Jot；　as　usual；

held　fast　by　his　shaking　hand；　for　they　loved　each　other；　these　two。

The　cruel　stroke　of　the　sun　that　had　blurred　the　old　man's　brain　had　spared

a　blessed　something　in　him　that　won　the　healing　love　of　children。



〃How　d'　ye；　Mote？〃　he　piped　in　his　feeble　voice。　　〃They　say

Lucindy's　dead。　　。　。　。　Jot　says　she　is；　'n'　Diademy　says　she　is；

'n'　I　guess　she　is。　　。　。　。　It　's　a　dretful　thick　year　for　fol'age；

。　。　。　some　o'　the　maples　looks　like　balls　in　the　air。〃



Mote　looked　in　at　the　window。　　The　neighbors　were　hurrying　to　and　fro。

Diadema　sat　with　her　calico　apron　up　to　her　face；　sobbing；　and　for　the　first

morning　in　thirty　years；　old　Mrs。　Bascom's　high…backed　rocker　was　empty；

and　there　was　no　one　sitting　in　the　village　watch…tower。





…





TOM　O'　THE　BLUEB'RY　PLAINS。





The　sky　is　a　shadowless　blue；　the　noon…day　sun　glows　fiercely；

a　cloud　of　dust　rises　from　the　burning　road　whenever　the　hot

breeze　stirs　the　air；　or　whenever　a　farm　wagon　creaks　along；

its　wheels　sinking　into　the　deep　sand。



In　the　distance；　where　the　green　of　the　earth　joins　the　blue　of　the　sky；

gleams　the　silver　line　of　a　river。



As　far　as　the　eye　an　reach；　the　ground　is　covered

with　blueberry　bushes；　red　leaves　peeping　among　green　ones；

bloom　of　blue　fruit　hanging　in　full　warm　clusters；spheres　of

velvet　mellowed　by　summer　sun；　moistened　with　crystal　dew；

spiced　with　fragrance　of　woods。



In　among　the　blueberry　bushes　grow　huckleberries；

〃choky　pears；〃　and　black…snaps。



Gnarled　oaks　and　stunted　pines　lift　themselves　out

of　the　wilderness　of　shrubs。　　They　look　dwarfed　and　gloomy；

as　if　Nature　had　been　an　untender　mother；　and　denied

them　proper　nourishment。



The　road　is　a　little…traveled　one；　and　furrows　of　feathery　grasses

grow　between　the　long；　hot；　sandy　stretches　of　the　wheel…ruts。



The　first　goldenrod　gleams　among　the　loose　stones　at　the　foot

of　the　alder　bushes。　　Whole　families　of　pale　butterflies；

just　out　of　their　long　sleep；　perch　on　the　brilliant　stalks

and　tilter　up　and　down　in　the　sunshine。



Straggling　processions　of　wooly　brown　caterpillars　wend　their　way

in　the　short　grass　by　the　wayside；　where　the　wild　carrot　and　the　purple

bull…thistle　are　coming　into　bloom。



The　song　of　birds　is　seldom　heard；　and　the　blueberry　plains

are　given　over　to　silence　save　for　the　buzzing　of　gorged　flies；

the　humming　of　bees；　and　the　chirping　of　crickets　that　stir

the　drowsy　air　when　the　summer　begins　to　wane。



It　is　so　still　that　the　shuffle…shuffle　of　a　footstep　can　be　heard

in　the　distance；　the　tinkle　of　a　tin　pail　swinging　musically　to　and　fro；

the　swish　of　an　alder　switch　cropping　the　heads　of　the　roadside　weeds。

All　at　once　a　voice　breaks　the　stillness。　　Is　it　a　child's；　a　woman's；

or　a　man's？　Neither　yet　all　three。





〃I'd　much　d'ruth…er　walk　in　the　bloom…in'　gy…ar…ding；

An'　hear　the　whis…sle　of　the　jol…ly

swain。〃



Everybody　knows　the　song；　and　everybody　knows　the　cracked　voice。

The　master　of　this　bit　of　silent　wilderness　is　coming　home：

it　is　Tom　o'　the　blueb'ry　plains。



He　is　more　than　common　tall；　with　a　sandy　beard；

and　a　mop　of　tangled