rambling idle excursion-第8节

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fees　and　costs　to　live　on。　　What　is　the　natural　result？　　Why；　he　never
looks　into　the　justice　of　a　casenever　once。　　All　he　looks　at　is　which
client　has　got　the　money。　　So　this　one　piled　the　fees　and　costs　and
everything　on　to　me。　　I　could　pay　specie；　don't　you　see？　and　he　knew
mighty　well　that　if　he　put　the　verdict　on　to　Mrs。　Brown；　where　it
belonged；　he'd　have　to　take　his　swag　in　currency。〃

〃Currency？　　Why；　has　Bermuda　a　currency？〃

〃Yes…onions。　　And　they　were　forty　per　cent。　discount；　too；　then；　because
the　season　had　been　over　as　much　as　three　months。　　So　I　lost　my　case。
I　had　to　pay　for　that　cat。　　But　the　general　trouble　the　case　made　was　the
worst　thing　about　it。　　Broke　up　so　much　good　feeling。　　The　neighbors
don't　speak　to　each　other　now。　　Mrs。　Brown　had　named　a　child　after　me。
But　she　changed　its　name　right　away。　　She　is　a　Baptist。　　Well；　in　the
course　of　baptizing　it　over　again　it　got　drowned。　　I　was　hoping　we　might
get　to　be　friendly　again　some　time　or　other；　but　of　course　this　drowning
the　child　knocked　that　all　out　of　the　question。　　It　would　have　saved　a
world　of　heartbreak　and　ill　blood　if　she　had　named　it　dry。〃

I　knew　by　the　sigh　that　this　was　honest。　　All　this　trouble　and　all　this
destruction　of　confidence　in　the　purity　of　the　bench　on　account　of　a
seven…shilling　lawsuit　about　a　cat！　　Somehow；　it　seemed　to　〃size〃　the
country。

At　this　point　we　observed　that　an　English　flag　had　just　been　placed　at
half…mast　on　a　building　a　hundred　yards　away。　　I　and　my　friends　were　busy
in　an　instant　trying　to　imagine　whose　death；　among　the　island
dignitaries；　could　command　such　a　mark　of　respect　as　this。　　Then　a
shudder　shook　them　and　me　at　the　same　moment；　and　I　knew　that　we　had
jumped　to　one　and　the　same　conclusion：　〃The　governor　has　gone　to　England；
it　is　for　the　British　admiral！〃

At　this　moment　Mr。　Smith　noticed　the　flag。　　He　said　with　emotion：

〃That's　on　a　boarding…house。　　I　judge　there's　a　boarder　dead。〃

A　dozen　other　flags　within　view　went　to　half…mast。

〃It's　a　boarder；　sure；〃　said　Smith。

〃But　would　they　half…mast　the　flags　here　for　a　boarder；　Mr。　Smith？〃

〃Why；　certainly　they　would；　if　he　was　dead。〃

That　seemed　to　size　the　country　again。



IV

The　early　twilight　of　a　Sunday　evening　in　Hamilton；　Bermuda；　is　an
alluring　time。　　There　is　just　enough　of　whispering　breeze；　fragrance　of
flowers；　and　sense　of　repose　to　raise　one's　thoughts　heavenward；　and　just
enough　amateur　piano　music　to　keep　him；　reminded　of　the　other　place。
There　are　many　venerable　pianos　in　Hamilton；　and　they　all　play　at
twilight。　　Age　enlarges　and　enriches　the　powers　of　some　musical
instrumentsnotably　those　of　the　violinbut　it　seems　to　set　a　piano's
teeth　on　edge。　　Most　of　the　music　in　vogue　there　is　the　same　that　those
pianos　prattled　in　their　innocent　infancy；　and　there　is　something　very
pathetic　about　it　when　they　go　over　it　now；　in　their　asthmatic　second
childhood；　dropping　a　note　here　and　there　where　a　tooth　is　gone。

We　attended　evening　service　at　the　stately　Episcopal　church　on　the　hill；
where　five　or　six　hundred　people；　half　of　them　white　and　the　other　half
black；　according　to　the　usual　Bermudian　proportions；　and　all　well
dresseda　thing　which　is　also　usual　in　Bermuda　and　to　be　confidently
expected。　　There　was　good　music；　which　we　heard；　and　doubtlessa　good
sermon；　but　there　was　a　wonderful　deal　of　coughing；　and　so　only　the　high
parts　of　the　argument　carried　over　it。　　As　we　came　out；　after　service；
I　overheard　one　young　girl　say　to　another：

〃Why；　you　don't　mean　to　say　you　pay　duty　on　gloves　and　laces！　　I　only　pay
postage；　have　them　done　up　and　sent　in　the　Boston　Advertiser。〃

There　are；　those　that　believe　that　the　most　difficult　thing　to　create　is
a　woman　who　can　comprehend　that　it　is　wrong　to　smuggle；　and　that　an
impossible　thing　to　create　is　a　woman　who　will　not　smuggle；　whether　or
no；　when　she　gets　a　chance。　　But　these　may　be　errors。

We　went　wandering　off　toward　the　country；　and　were　soon　far　down　in　the
lonely　black　depths　of　a　road　that　was　roofed　over　with　the　dense　foliage
of　a　double　rank　of　great　cedars。　　There　was　no　sound　of　any　kind　there；
it　was　perfectly　still。　　And　it　was　so　dark　that　one　could　detect　nothing
but　somber　outlines。　　We　strode　farther　and　farther　down　this　tunnel；
cheering　the　way　with　chat。

Presently　the　chat　took　this　shape：　〃How　insensibly　the　character　of　the
people　and　of　a　government　makes　its　impress　upon　a　stranger；　and　gives
him　a　sense　of　security　or　of　insecurity　without　his　taking　deliberate
thought　upon　the　matter　or　asking　anybody　a　question！　　We　have　been　in
this　land　half　a　day；　we　have　seen　none　but　honest　faces；　we　have　noted
the　British　flag　flying；　which　means　efficient　government　and　good　order；
so　without　inquiry　we　plunge　unarmed　and　with　perfect　confidence　into
this　dismal　place；　which　in　almost　any　other　country　would　swarm　with
thugs　and　garroters〃

'Sh！　　What　was　that？　　Stealthy　footsteps！　　Low　voices！　　We　gasp；　we　close
up　together；　and　wait。　　A　vague　shape　glides　out　of　the　dusk　and
confronts　us。　　A　voice　speaksdemands　money！

〃A　shilling；　gentlemen；　if　you　please；　to　help　build　the　new　Methodist
church。〃

Blessed　sound！　　Holy　sound！　　We　contribute　with　thankful　avidity　to　the
new　Methodist　church；　and　are　happy　to　think　how　lucky　it　was　that　those
little　colored　Sunday…school　scholars　did　not　seize　upon　everything　we
had　with　violence；　before　we　recovered　from　our　momentary　helpless
condition。　　By　the　light　of　cigars　we　write　down　the　names　of　weightier
philanthropists　than　ourselves　on　the　contribution　cards；　and　then　pass
on　into　the　farther　darkness；　saying；　What　sort　of　a　government　do　they
call　this；　where　they　allow　little　black　pious　children；　with
contribution　cards；　to　plunge　out　upon　peaceable　strangers　in　the　dark
and　scare　them　to　death？

We　prowled　on　several　hours；　sometimes　by　the　seaside；　sometimes　inland；
and　finally　managed　to　get　lost；　which　is　a　feat　that　requires　talent　in
Bermuda。　　I　had　on　new　shoes。　　They　were　No。　7's　when　I　started；　but　were
not　more　than　5's　now；　and　still　diminishing。　　I　walked　two　hours　in
those　shoes　after　that；　before　we　reached　home。　　Doubtless　I　could　have
the　reader's　sympathy　for　the　asking。　　Many　people　have　never　had　the
headache　or　the　toothache；　and　I　am　one　of　those　myself；　but　every　body
has　worn　tight　shoes　for　two　or　three　hours；　and　known　the　luxury　of
taking　them　off　in　a　retired　place　and　seeing　his　feet　swell　up　and
obscure　the　firmament。　　Once　when　I　was　a　callow；　bashful　cub；　I　took　a
plain；　unsentimental　country　girl　to　a　comedy　one　night。　　I　had　known　her
a　day；　she　seemed　divine；　I　wore　my　new　boots。　　At　the　end　of　the　first
half…hour　she　said；　〃Why　do　you　fidget　so　with　your　feet？〃　　I　said；　〃Did
I？〃　　Then　I　put　my　attention　there　and　kept　still。　　At　the　end　of　another
half…hour　she　said；　〃Why　do　you　say；　'Yes；　oh　yes！'　and　'Ha；　ha；　oh；
certainly！　　very　true！'　to　everything　I　say；　when　half　the　time　those　are
entirely　irrelevant　answers？〃　　I　blushed；　and　explained　that　I　had　been　a
little　absent…minded。　　At　the　end　of　another　half…hour　she　said；　〃Please；
why　do　you　grin　so　steadfastly　at　vacancy；　and　yet　look　so　sad？〃
I　explained　that　I　always　did　that　when　I　was　reflecting。　　An　hour
passed；　and　then　she　turned　and　contemplated　me　with　her　earnest　eyes　and
said；　〃Why　do　you　cry　all　the　time？〃　　I　explained　that　very　funny
comedies　always　made　me　cry。　　At　last　human　nature　surrendered；　and　I
secretly　slipped　my　boots　off。　　This　was　a　mistake。　　I　was　not　able　to
get　them　on　any　more。　　It　was　a　rainy　night；　there　were　no　omnibuses
going　our　way；　and　as　I　walked　home；　burning　up　with　shame；　with　the　girl
on　one　arm　and　my　boots　under　the　other；　I　was　an　object　worthy　of　some
compassionespecially　in　those　moments　of　martyrdom　when　I　had　to　pass
through　the　glare　that　fell　upon　the　pavement　from　street…lamps。
Finally；　this　child　of　the　forest　said；　〃Where　are　your　boots？〃　and　being
taken　unprepared；　I　put　a　fitting　finish　to　the　follies　of　the　evening
with　the　stupid　remark；　〃The　higher　classes　do　not　wear　them　to　the
theater。〃

The　Reverend　had　been　an　army　chaplain　during　the　war；　and　while　we　were
hunting　for　a　road　that　would　lead　to　Hamilton　he　told　a　story　about　two
dying　soldiers　which　interested　me　in　spite　of　my　feet。　　He　said　that　in
the　Potomac　hospitals　rough　pine　coffins　were　furnished　by　government；
but　that　it　was　not　always　possible　to　keep　up　with　the　demand；　so；　when
a　man　died；　if　there　was　no　coffin　at　hand　he　was　buried　without　one。
One　night；　late；　two　soldiers　lay　dying　in　a　ward。　　A　man　came　in　with　a
coffin　on　his　shoulder；　and　stood　trying　to　make　up　his　mind　which　of
these　two　poor　fellows　would　be　likely　to　need　it　first。　　Both　of　them
begged　for　it　with　their　fading　eyesthey　were　past　talking。　　Then　one
of　them　protruded　a　wasted　hand　from　his　blankets　and　made　a　feeble
beckoning　sign　with　the　fingers；　to　signify；　〃Be　a　good　fellow；　put　it
under　my　bed；　please。〃　　The　man　did　it；　and　left。　　The　lucky　soldier
painfully　turned　himself　in　his　bed　until　he　faced　the　other　warrior；
raised　himself　partly　on　his　elbow；　and　began　to　work　up　a　mysterious