stories by modern american authors-第36节

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price；　thus；　therefore；　while　everyone　around　him　grew　richer；

Wolfert　grew　poorer；　and　he　could　not；　for　the　life　of　him；

perceive　how　the　evil　was　to　be　remedied。



This　growing　care；　which　increased　from　day　to　day；　had　its　gradual

effect　upon　our　worthy　burgher；　insomuch　that　it　at　length

implanted　two　or　three　wrinkles　in　his　brow；　things　unknown　before

in　the　family　of　the　Webbers；　and　it　seemed　to　pinch　up　the　corners

of　his　cocked　hat　into　an　expression　of　anxiety　totally　opposite　to

the　tranquil；　broad…brimmed；　low…crowned　beavers　of　his　illustrious

progenitors。



Perhaps　even　this　would　not　have　materially　disturbed　the　serenity

of　his　mind　had　he　had　only　himself　and　his　wife　to　care　for；　but

there　was　his　daughter　gradually　growing　to　maturity；　and　all　the

world　knows　that　when　daughters　begin　to　ripen；　no　fruit　nor　flower

requires　so　much　looking　after。　　I　have　no　talent　at　describing

female　charms；　else　fain　would　I　depict　the　progress　of　this　little

Dutch　beauty：　how　her　blue　eyes　grew　deeper　and　deeper；　and　her

cherry　lips　redder　and　redder；　and　how　she　ripened　and　ripened；　and

rounded　and　rounded；　in　the　opening　breath　of　sixteen　summers；

until；　in　her　seventeenth　spring；　she　seemed　ready　to　burst　out　of

her　bodice；　like　a　half…blown　rosebud。



Ah；　well…a…day！　　Could　I　but　show　her　as　she　was　then；　tricked　out

on　a　Sunday　morning　in　the　hereditary　finery　of　the　old　Dutch

clothespress；　of　which　her　mother　had　confided　to　her　the　key！　　The

wedding　dress　of　her　grandmother；　modernized　for　use；　with　sundry

ornaments；　handed　down　as　heirlooms　in　the　family。　　Her　pale　brown

hair　smoothed　with　buttermilk　in　flat；　waving　lines　on　each　side　of

her　fair　forehead。　　The　chain　of　yellow；　virgin　gold　that　encircled

her　neck；　the　little　cross　that　just　rested　at　the　entrance　of　a

soft　valley　of　happiness；　as　if　it　would　sanctify　the　place。　　The

but　pooh！　it　is　not　for　an　old　man　like　me　to　be　prosing　about

female　beauty；　suffice　it　to　say；　Amy　had　attained　her　seventeenth

year。　　Long　since　had　her　sampler　exhibited　hearts　in　couples

desperately　transfixed　with　arrows；　and　true　lovers'　knots　worked

in　deep　blue　silk；　and　it　was　evident　she　began　to　languish　for

some　more　interesting　occupation　than　the　rearing　of　sunflowers　or

pickling　of　cucumbers。



At　this　critical　period　of　female　existence；　when　the　heart　within

a　damsel's　bosom；　like　its　emblem；　the　miniature　which　hangs

without；　is　apt　to　be　engrossed　by　a　single　image；　a　new　visitor

began　to　make　his　appearance　under　the　roof　of　Wolfert　Webber。

This　was　Dirk　Waldron；　the　only　son　of　a　poor　widow；　but　who　could

boast　of　more　fathers　than　any　lad　in　the　province；　for　his　mother

had　had　four　husbands；　and　this　only　child；　so　that；　though　born　in

her　last　wedlock；　he　might　fairly　claim　to　be　the　tardy　fruit　of　a

long　course　of　cultivation。　　This　son　of　four　fathers　united　the

merits　and　the　vigor　of　all　his　sires。　　If　he　had　not　had　a　great

family　before　him　he　seemed　likely　to　have　a　great　one　after　him；

for　you　had　only　to　look　at　the　fresh；　buxom　youth　to　see　that　he

was　formed　to　be　the　founder　of　a　mighty　race。



This　youngster　gradually　became　an　intimate　visitor　of　the　family。

He　talked　little；　but　he　sat　long。　　He　filled　the　father's　pipe

when　it　was　empty；　gathered　up　the　mother's　knitting　needle；　or

ball　of　worsted；　when　it　fell　to　the　ground；　stroked　the　sleek　coat

of　the　tortoise…shell　cat；　and　replenished　the　teapot　for　the

daughter　from　the　bright　copper　kettle　that　sang　before　the　fire。

All　these　quiet　little　offices　may　seem　of　trifling　import；　but

when　true　love　is　translated　into　Low　Dutch　it　is　in　this　way　that

it　eloquently　expresses　itself。　　They　were　not　lost　upon　the　Webber

family。　　The　winning　youngster　found　marvelous　favor　in　the　eyes　of

the　mother；　the　tortoise…shell　cat；　albeit　the　most　staid　and

demure　of　her　kind；　gave　indubitable　signs　of　approbation　of　his

visits；　the　teakettle　seemed　to　sing　out　a　cheering　note　of　welcome

at　his　approach；　and　if　the　sly　glances　of　the　daughter　might　be

rightly　read；　as　she　sat　bridling　and　dimpling；　and　sewing　by　her

mother's　side；　she　was　not　a　whit　behind　Dame　Webber；　or　grimalkin；

or　the　teakettle；　in　good　will。



Wolfert　alone　saw　nothing　of　what　was　going　on。　　Profoundly　wrapt

up　in　meditation　on　the　growth　of　the　city　and　his　cabbages；　he　sat

looking　in　the　fire；　and　puffing　his　pipe　in　silence。　　One　night；

however；　as　the　gentle　Amy；　according　to　custom；　lighted　her　lover

to　the　outer　door；　and　he；　according　to　custom；　took　his　parting

salute；　the　smack　resounded　so　vigorously　through　the　long；　silent

entry　as　to　startle　even　the　dull　ear　of　Wolfert。　　He　was　slowly

roused　to　a　new　source　of　anxiety。　　It　had　never　entered　into　his

head　that　this　mere　child；　who；　as　it　seemed；　but　the　other　day　had

been　climbing　about　his　knees　and　playing　with　dolls　and　baby

houses；　could　all　at　once　be　thinking　of　lovers　and　matrimony。　　He

rubbed　his　eyes；　examined　into　the　fact；　and　really　found　that

while　he　had　been　dreaming　of　other　matters；　she　had　actually　grown

to　be　a　woman；　and；　what　was　worse；　had　fallen　in　love。　　Here　arose

new　cares　for　Wolfert。　　He　was　a　kind　father；　but　he　was　a　prudent

man。　　The　young　man　was　a　lively；　stirring　lad；　but　then　he　had

neither　money　nor　land。　　Wolfert's　ideas　all　ran　in　one　channel；

and　he　saw　no　alternative　in　case　of　a　marriage　but　to　portion　off

the　young　couple　with　a　corner　of　his　cabbage　garden；　the　whole　of

which　was　barely　sufficient　for　the　support　of　his　family。



Like　a　prudent　father；　therefore；　he　determined　to　nip　this　passion

in　the　bud；　and　forbade　the　youngster　the　house；　though　sorely　did

it　go　against　his　fatherly　heart；　and　many　a　silent　tear　did　it

cause　in　the　bright　eye　of　his　daughter。　　She　showed　herself；

however；　a　pattern　of　filial　piety　and　obedience。　　She　never　pouted

and　sulked；　she　never　flew　in　the　face　of　parental　authority；　she

never　flew　into　a　passion；　nor　fell　into　hysterics；　as　many

romantic；　novel…read　young　ladies　would　do。　　Not　she；　indeed。　　She

was　none　such　heroical；　rebellious　trumpery；　I'll　warrant　ye。　　On

the　contrary；　she　acquiesced　like　an　obedient　daughter；　shut　the

street　door　in　her　lover's　face；　and　if　ever　she　did　grant　him　an

interview；　it　was　either　out　of　the　kitchen　window　or　over　the

garden　fence。



Wolfert　was　deeply　cogitating　these　matters　in　his　mind；　and　his

brow　wrinkled　with　unusual　care；　as　he　wended　his　way　one　Saturday

afternoon　to　a　rural　inn；　about　two　miles　from　the　city。　　It　was　a

favorite　resort　of　the　Dutch　part　of　the　community；　from　being

always　held　by　a　Dutch　line　of　landlords；　and　retaining　an　air　and

relish　of　the　good　old　times。　　It　was　a　Dutch…built　house；　that　had

probably　been　a　country　seat　of　some　opulent　burgher　in　the　early

time　of　the　settlement。　　It　stood　near　a　point　of　land　called

Corlear's　Hook；＇1＇　which　stretches　out　into　the　Sound；　and　against

which　the　tide；　at　its　flux　and　reflux；　sets　with　extraordinary

rapidity。　　The　venerable　and　somewhat　crazy　mansion　was

distinguished　from　afar　by　a　grove　of　elms　and　sycamores　that

seemed　to　wave　a　hospitable　invitation；　while　a　few　weeping

willows；　with　their　dank；　drooping　foliage；　resembling　falling

waters；　gave　an　idea　of　coolness　that　rendered　it　an　attractive

spot　during　the　heats　of　summer。





＇1＇　A　point　of　land　at　the　bend　of　the　East　River　below　Grand

Street；　New　York　City。





Here；　therefore；　as　I　said；　resorted　many　of　the　old　inhabitants　of

the　Manhattoes；　where；　while　some　played　at　shuffleboard＇1＇　and

quoits；＇2＇　and　ninepins；　others　smoked　a　deliberate　pipe；　and

talked　over　public　affairs。





＇1＇　A　game　played　by　pushing　or　shaking　pieces　of　money　or　metal　so

as　to　make　them　reach　certain　marks　on　a　board。



＇2＇　A　game　played　by　pitching　a　flattened；　ring…shaped　piece　of

iron；　called　a　quoit；　at　a　fixed　object。





It　was　on　a　blustering　autumnal　afternoon　that　Wolfert　made　his

visit　to　the　inn。　　The　grove　of　elms　and　willows　was　stripped　of

its　leaves；　which　whirled　in　rustling　eddies　about　the　fields。　　The

ninepin　alley　was　deserted；　for　the　premature　chilliness　of　the　day

had　driven　the　company　within　doors。　　As　it　was　Saturday　afternoon

the　habitual　club　was　in　session；　composed　principally　of　regular

Dutch　burghers；　though　mingled　occasionally　with　persons　of　various

character　and　country；　as　is　natural　in　a　place　of　such　motley

population。



Beside　the　fireplace；　in　a　huge；　leather…bottomed　armchair；　sat　the

dictator　of　this　little　world；　the　venerable　Rem；　or；　as　it　was

pronounced；　〃Ramm〃　Rapelye。　　He　was　a　man　of　Walloon＇1＇　race；　and

illustrious　for　the　antiquity　of　his　line；　his　great…grandmother

having　been　the　first　white　child　born　in　the　province。　　But　he　was

still　more　illustrious　for　his　wealth　and　dignity。　　He　had　long

filled　the　noble　office　of　alderman；　and　was　a