the friendly road(友好的路)-第20节
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When I had gone through it half a dozen times with such added
variations and trills as I could command； and had two of the children
hopping about in the yard； and the forlorn man tapping his toe to the tune；
and a smile on the face of the forlorn woman； I wound up with a rush and
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then； as if I could hold myself in no longer （and I couldn't either！）； I
suddenly burst out：
Yankee doodle dandy！ Yankee doodle dandy！ Mind the music and the
step； And with the girls be handy。
It may seem surprising； but I think I can understand why it was
when I looked up at the woman in the doorway there were tears in her
eyes！
〃Do you know 'John Brown's Body'？〃 eagerly inquired the little girl
with the dipper； and then； as if she had done something quite bold and
improper； she blushed and edged toward the doorway。
〃How does it go？〃 I asked； and one of the bold lads in the yard
instantly puckered his lips to show me； and immediately they were all
trying it。
〃Here goes；〃 said I； and for the next few minutes； and in my very best
style； I hung Jeff Davis on the sour apple…tree； and I sent the soul of John
Brown marching onward with an altogether unnecessary number of
hallelujahs。
I think sometimes that peoplewhole families of 'emliterally perish
for want of a good； hearty； whole…souled； mouth…opening； throat…stretching；
side…aching laugh。 They begin to think themselves the abused of creation；
they begin to advise with their livers and to hate their neighbours； and the
whole world becomes a miserable dark blue place quite unfit for human
habitation。 Well； all this is often only the result of a neglect to exercise
properly those muscles of the body （and of the soul） which have to do with
honest laughter。
I've never supposed I was an especially amusing person； but before I
got through with it I had the Clark family well loosened up with laughter；
although I wasn't quite sure some of the time whether Mrs。 Clark was
laughing or crying。 I had them all laughing and talking； asking questions
and answering them as though I were an old and valued neighbour。
Isn't it odd how unconvinced we often are by the crises in the lives of
other people？ They seem to us trivial or unimportant； but the fact is； the
crises in the life of a boy； for example； or of a poor man； are as
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commanding as the crises in the life of the greatest statesman or
millionaire； for they involve equally the whole personality； the entire
prospects。
The Clark family； I soon learned； had lost its pig。 A trivial matter； you
say？ I wonder if anything is ever trivial。 A year of poor crops； sickness；
low prices； discouragement and； at the end of it； on top of it all； the
cherished pig had died！
From all accounts （and the man on the porch quite lost his apathy in
telling me about it） it must have been a pig of remarkable virtues and
attainments； a paragon of pigs in whom had been bound up the many
possibilities of new shoes for the children； a hat for the lady； a new pair of
overalls for the gentleman； and I know not what other kindred luxuries。 I
do not think； indeed； I ever had the portrait of a pig drawn for me with
quite such ardent enthusiasm of detail； and the more questions I asked the
more eager the story； until finally it became necessary for me to go to the
barn； the cattle…pen； the pig…pen and the chicken…house； that I might
visualize more clearly the scene of the tragedy。 The whole family trooped
after us like a classic chorus； but Mr。 Clark himself kept the centre of the
stage。
How plainly I could read upon the face of the land the story of this hill
farmer and his meagre existencehis ill…directed effort to wring a poor
living for his family from these upland fields； his poverty； and； above all；
his evident lack of knowledge of his own calling。 Added to these things；
and perhaps the most depressing of all his difficulties； was the utter
loneliness of the task； the feeling that it mattered little to any one whether
the Clark family worked or not； or indeed whether they lived or died。 A
perfectly good American family was here being wasted； with the precious
land they lived on； because no one had taken the trouble。 to make them
feel that they were a part of this Great American Job。
As we went back to the house； a freckled…nosed neighbour's boy
came in at the gate。
〃A letter for you； Mr。 Clark；〃 said he。 〃I brought it up with our mail。〃
〃A letter！〃 exclaimed Mrs。 Clark。
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〃A letter！〃 echoed at least three of the children in unison。
〃Probably a dun from Brewster；〃 said Mr。 Clark discouragingly。
I felt a curious sensation about the heart； and an eagerness of interest I
have rarely experienced。 I had no idea what a mere lettera mere
unopened unread letterwould mean to a family like this。
〃It has no stamp on it！〃 exclaimed the older girl。
Mrs。 Clark turned it over wonderingly in her hands。 Mr。 Clark hastily
put on a pair of steel…bowed spectacles。
〃Let me see it；〃 he said； and when he also had inspected it minutely he
solemnly tore open the envelope and drew forth my letter。
'I assure you I never awaited the reading of any writing of mine with
such breathless interest。 How would they take it？ Would they catch the
meaning that I meant to convey？ And would they suspect me of having
written it？
Mr。 Clark sat on the porch and read the letter slowly through to the end；
turned the sheet over and examined it carefully； and then began reading it
again to himself； Mrs。 Clark leaning over his shoulder。
〃What does it mean？〃 asked Mr。 Clark。
〃It's too good to be true；〃 said Mrs。 Clark with a sigh。
I don't know how long the discussion might have continuedprobably
for days or weekshad not the older girl； now flushed of face and rather
pretty； looked at me and said breathlessly （she was as sharp as a briar）：
〃You wrote it。〃
I stood the battery of all their eyes for a moment； smiling and rather
excited。
〃Yes；〃 I said earnestly； 〃I wrote it； and I mean every word of it。〃
I had anticipated some shock of suspicion and inquiry； but to my
surprise it was accepted as simply as a neighbourly good morning。 I
suppose the mystery of it was eclipsed by my astonishing presence there
upon the scene with my tin whistle。
At any rate； it was a changed； eager； interested family which now
occupied the porch of that dilapidated farmhouse。 And immediately we
fell into a lively discussion of crops and farming； and indeed the whole
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farm question； in which I found both the man and his wife singularly
acutesharpened upon the stone of hard experience。
Indeed； I found right here； as I have many times found among our
American farmers； an intelligence （a literacy growing out of what I believe
to be improper education） which was better able to discuss the problems of
rural life than to grapple with and solve them。 A dull； illiterate Polish
farmer； I have found； will sometimes succeed much better at the job of life
than his American neighbour。
Talk with almost any man for half an hour； and you will find that his
conversation； like an old…fashioned song； has a regularly recurrent chorus。
I soon discovered Mr。 Clark's chorus。
〃Now； if only I had a little cash；〃 he sang； or； 〃If I had a few dollars； I
could do so and so。〃
Why； he was as helplessly； dependent upon money as any soft…handed
millionairess。 He considered himself poor and helpless because he lacked
dollars； whereas people are
