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第24节

eben holden-第24节

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own and its miser who got all the applause。

While working his joy was unconfined。 Many a time I have sat and watched him in his little shop; its window dim with cobwebs。 Sometimes he would stop whistling and cackle heartily as he worked his plane or drew his pencil to the square。 I have even seen him drop his tools and give his undivided attention to laughter。 He did not like to be interrupted … he loved his own company the best while he was 'doin' business'。 I went one day when he was singing the two lines and their quaint chorus which was all he ever sang in my hearing; which gave him great relief; I have no doubt; when lip weary with whistling:

Sez I 'Dan'l Skinner; I thank yer mighty mean  To send me up the river; With a sev'n  dollar team' Lul…ly;ul… ly;diddie ul… ly; diddleul … lydee; Oh; lul…ly; ul … ly; diddle ul … ly; diddle  ul … ly dee。

'Mr Rollin!' I said。

Yes siree;' said he; pausing in the midst of his chorus to look up at me。

'Where can I get a piece of yellow pine?'

'See 'n a minute;' he said。 Then he continued his sawing and his song; ' 〃Says I Dan SItinner; I thank yer mighty mean〃… what d' ye want it fer?' he asked stopping abruptly。

'Going to make a ruler;' I answered。

'〃T' sen' me up the river with a seven dollar team;';' he went on; picking out a piece of smooth planed lumber; and handing it to me。

'How much is it worth?' I enquired。

He whistled a moment as he surveyed it carefully。

''Bout one cent;' he answered seriously。

I handed him the money and sat down awhile to watch him as he went on with his work。 It was the cheapest amusement I have yet enjoyed。 Indeed Sol Rollin became a dissipation; a subtle and seductive habit that grew upon me and on one pretext or another I went every Saturday to the shop if I had not gone home。

'What ye goin' t' be?'

He stopped his saw; and looked at me; waiting for my answer。

At last the tirne had come when I must declare myself and I did。

'A journalist;' I replied。

'What's that?' he enquired curiously。

'An editor;' I said。

'A printer man?'

'A printer man。'

'Huh!' said he。 'Mebbe I'll give ye a job。 Sairey tol' me I'd orter t' 'ave some cards printed。 I'll want good plain print: Solomon Rollin; Cappenter 'n J'iner; lilillsborough; NY … soun's putty good don't it。'

'Beautiful;' I answered。

'I'll git a big lot on 'em;' he said。 'I'll want one for Sister Susan 'at's out in Minnesoty … no; I guess I'll send 'er tew; so she can give one away … an' one fer my brother; Eliphalet; an' one apiece fer my three cousins over 'n Vermont; an' one fer my Aunt Mirandy。 Le's see…tew an' one is three an' three is six an' one is seven。 Then I'll git a few struck off fer the folks here … guess they'll thank I'm gittin' up 'n the world。'

He shook and snickered with anticipation of the glory of it。 Pure vanity inspired him in the matter and it had in it no vulgar consideration of business policy。 He whistled a lively tune as he bent to his work again。

'Yer sister says ye're a splendid scholar!' said he。 'Hear'n 'er braggin' 'bout ye t'other night; she thinks a good deal o' her brother; I can tell ye。 Guess I know what she's gain' t' give ye Crissmus。'

'What's that?' I asked; with a curiosity more youthll than becoming。

'Don't ye never let on;' said he。

'Never;' said I。

'Hear'n 'em tell;' he said;' 'twas a gol' lockup; with 'er pictur' in it'

'Oh; a locket!' I exclaimed。

'That's it;' he replied; 'an' pure gol'; too。'

I turned to go。

'Hope she'll grow up a savin' woman;' he remarked。 ''Fraid she won't never be very good t' worlt'

'Why not?' I enquired。

'Han's are too little an' white;' he answered。

'She won't have to;' I said。

He cackled uproariously for a moment; then grew serious。

'Her father's rich;' he said; 'the richest man o' Faraway; an I guess she won't never hev anything t' dew but set'n sing an' play the melodium。'

'She can do as she likes;' I said。

He stood a moment looking down as if meditating on the delights he had pictured。

'Gol!' he exclaimed suddenly。

My subject had begun to study me; and I came away to escape further examination。

Chapter 18

I ought to say that I have had and shall have to chronicle herein much that would seem to indicate a mighty conceit of myself。 Unfortunately the little word 'I' throws a big shadow in this history。 It looms up all too frequendy in every page for the sign of a modest man。 But; indeed; I cannot help it; for he was the only observer of all there is to tell。 Now there is much; for example; in the very marrow of my history … things that never would have happened; things that never would have been said; but for my fame as a scholar。 My learning was of small account; for; it must be remembered; I am writing of a time when any degree of scholarship was counted remarkable among the simple folk of Faraway。

Hope took singing lessons and sang in church every Sunday。 David or Uncle Eb came down for us often of a Saturday and brought us back before service m the morning。 One may find in that town today many who will love to tell him of the voice and beauty and sweetness of Hope Brower those days; and of what they expected regarding her and me。 We went out a good deal evenings to concerts; lectures at the churches or the college; or to visit some of the many people who invited us to their homes。

We had a recess of two weeks at the winter holidays and David Brower came after us the day the term ended。 O; the great happiness of that day before Christmas when we came flying home in the sleigh behind a new team of greys and felt the intoxication of the frosty air; and drove in at dusk after the lamps were lit and we could see mother and Uncle Eb and Grandma Bisnette looking out of the window; and a steaming dinner on the table! I declare! it is long since then; but I cannot ever think of that time without wiping my glasses and taking a moment off Tip Taylor took the horses and we all came in where the kettle was singing on the stove and loving hands helped us out of our wraps。 The supper was a merry feast; the like of which one may ftnd only by returning to his boyhood。 Mack! that is a long journey for some of us。

Supper over and the dishes out of the way we gathered about the stove with cider and butternuts。

'Well;' said Hope; 'I've got some news to tell you … this boy is the best scholar of his age in this county。'

'Thet so?' said David。

Uncle Eb stopped his hmnmer that was lifted to crack a butternut and pulled his chair close to Hope's。 Elizabeth looked at her daughter and then at me; a smile and a protest in her face。

'True as you live;' said Hope。 'The master told me so。 He's first in everything; and in the Town Hall the other night he spelt everybody down。'

'What! In HilIsborough?' Uncle Eb asked incredulously。

'Yes; in Hillsborough;' said Hope; 'and there were doctors and lawyers and college students and I don't know who all in the match。'

'Most  reemarkable!' said David Brower。

'Treemenjious!' exclaimed Uncle Eb。

'I heard about it over at the mllls t'day;' said Tip Taylor。

'Merd Dieu!' exclaimed Grandma Bisnette; crossing herself。

Elizabeth Brower was unable to stem this tide of enthusiasm。 I had tried to stop it; but; instantly; it had gone beyond my control。 If I could be hurt by praise the mischief had been done。

'It's very nice; indeed;' said she soberly。 'I do hope it won't make him conceited。 He should remember that people do not always mean what they say。'

'He's too sensible for that; mother;' said David。

'Shucks!' said Uncle Eb; 'he ain' no fool if he is a good speller … not by a dum sight!'

'Tip;' said David; 'you'll find a box in the sleigh 'at come by express。 I wish ye'd go'n git it。'

We all stood looking while Tip brought it in and pried off the top boards with a hatchet。

'Careful; now!' Uncle Eb cautioned him。 'Might spile sumthin'。'

The top off; Uncle Eb removed a layer of pasteboard。 Then he pulled out a lot of coloured tissue paper; and under that was a package; wrapped and tied。 Something was written on it。 He held it up and tried to read the writing。

'Can't see without my spectacles;' he said; handing it to me。

'For Hope;' I read; as I passed it to her。

'Hooray!' said Uncle Eb; as he lifted another; and the last package; from the box。

'For Mrs Brower;' were the words I read upon that one。

The strings were cut; the wrappers torn away; and two big rolls of shiny silk loosened their coils on the table。 Hope uttered a cry of delight。 A murmur of surprise and admiration passed from one to another。 Elizabeth lifted a rustling fold and held it to the lamplight We passed our hands over the smooth sheen of the silk。

'Wall; I swan!' said Uncle Eb。 'Jes' like a kitten's ear!'

'Eggzac'ly!' said David Brower。

Elizabeth lifted the silk and let it flow to her feet Then for a little she looked down; draping it to her skirt and moving her foot to make the silk rustle。 For the moment she was young again。

'David;' she said; still looking at the glory of glossy black that covered her plain dress。

'Well; mother;' he answered。

'Was you fool enough t' go'n buy this stuff fer me?'

'No; mother … it come from New York City;' he said。

'From 

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