the portygee-第2节

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was　before　his　mind；　of　that　room　as　it　was　before　the　telegram
came；　before　the　lawyer　came　with　the　letter；　before　the　end　of
everything　as　he　knew　it　and　the　beginning　ofthis。　　He　had　not
always　loved　and　longed　for　that　school　as　he　loved　and　longed　for
it　now。　　There　had　been　times　when　he　referred　to　it　as　〃the　old
jail；〃　and　professed　to　hate　it。　　But　it　had　been　the　only　real
home　he　had　known　since　he　was　eight　years　old　and　now　he　looked
back　upon　it　as　a　fallen　angel　might　have　looked　back　upon
Paradise。　　He　sighed　again；　choked　and　hastily　drew　his　gloved　hand
across　his　eyes。　　At　the　age　of　seventeen　it　is　very　unmanly　to
cry；　but；　at　that　age　also；　manhood　and　boyhood　are　closely
intermingled。　　He　choked　again　and　then；　squaring　his　shoulders；
reached　into　his　coat　pocket　for　the　silver　cigarette　case　which；
as　a　recent　acquisition；　was　the　pride　of　his　soul。　　He　had　just
succeeded　in　lighting　a　cigarette　when；　borne　upon　the　wind；　he
heard　once　more　the　sound　of　hoofs　and　wheels　and　saw　in　the
distance　a　speck　of　light　advancing　toward　the　station。

The　sounds　drew　nearer；　so　did　the　light。　　Then　an　old…fashioned
buggy；　drawn　by　a　plump　little　sorrel；　pulled　up　by　the　platform
and　a　hand　held　a　lantern　aloft。

〃Hello！〃　hailed　a　voice。　　〃Where　are　you？〃

The　hail　did　not　have　to　be　repeated。　　Before　the　vehicle　reached
the　station　the　boy　had　tossed　away　the　cigarette；　picked　up　the
suitcase；　and　was　waiting。　　Now　he　strode　into　the　lantern　light。

〃Here　I　am；〃　he　answered；　trying　hard　not　to　appear　too　eager。
〃Were　you　looking　for　me？〃

The　holder　of　the　lantern　tucked　the　reins　between　the　whip…socket
and　the　dash　and　climbed　out　of　the　buggy。　　He　was　a　little　man；
perhaps　about　forty…eight　or　fifty；　with　a　smooth…shaven　face
wrinkled　at　the　corners　of　the　mouth　and　eyes。　　His　voice　was　the
most　curious　thing　about　him；　it　was　high　and　piping；　more　like　a
woman's　than　a　man's。　　Yet　his　words　and　manner　were　masculine
enough；　and　he　moved　and　spoke　with　a　nervous；　jerky　quickness。

He　answered　the　question　promptly。　　〃Guess　I　be；　guess　I　be；〃　he
said　briskly。　　〃Anyhow；　I'm　lookin'　for　a　boy　name　ofname　of
My　soul　to　heavens；　I've　forgot　it　again；　I　do　believe！　　What　did
you　say　your　name　was？〃

〃Speranza。　　Albert　Speranza。〃

〃Sartin；　sartin！　　Spererumyes；　yes。　　Knew　it　just　as　well　as
I　did　my　own。　　Well；　well；　well！　　Ye…es；　yes；　yes。　　Get　right
aboard；　Alfred。　　Let　me　take　your　satchel。〃

He　picked　up　the　suitcase。　　The　boy；　his　foot　upon　the　buggy　step；
still　hesitated。　　〃Then　you'reyou're　not　my　grandfather？〃　he
faltered。

〃Eh？　　Who？　　Your　grandfather？　　Me？　　He；　he；　he！〃　　He　chuckled
shrilly。　　〃No；　no！　　No　such　luck。　　If　I　was　Cap'n　Lote　Snow；　I'd　be
some　older'n　I　be　now　and　a　dum　sight　richer。　　Yes；　yes。　　No；　I'm
Cap'n　Lote's　bookkeeper　over　at　the　lumber　consarn。　　He's　got　a
cold；　and　Olivethat's　his　wifeshe　said　he　shouldn't　come　out
to…night。　　He　said　he　should；　and　while　they　was　Katy…didin'　back
and　forth　about　it；　RachelMrs。　Ellisshe's　the　hired　housekeeper
thereshe　telephoned　me　to　harness　up　and　come　meet　you　up　here　to
the　depot。　　Ererlittle　mite　late；　wan't　I？〃

〃Why；　yes；　just　a　little。　　The　other　man；　the　one　who　drives　the
mail　cartI　think　that　was　what　it　wassaid　perhaps　the　horse　was
sick；　or　something　like　that。〃

〃No…o；　no；　that　wan't　it　this　time。　　Ier　　All　tucked　in　and
warm　enough；　be　you？　　Ye…es；　yes；　yes。　　No；　I'm　to　blame；　I
shouldn't　wonder。　　I　stopped　at　theat　the　store　a　minute　and　met
one　or　two　of　the　fellers；　and　that　kind　of　held　me　up。　　All　right
now？　　Ye…es；　yes；　yes。　　G'long；　gal。〃

The　buggy　moved　away　from　the　platform。　　Its　passenger；　his　chilly
feet　and　legs　tightly　wrapped　in　the　robes；　drew　a　breath　of　relief
between　his　chattering　teeth。　　He　was　actually　going　somewhere　at
last；　whatever　happened；　morning　would　not　find　him　propped　frozen
stiff　against　the　scarred　and　mangy　clapboards　of　the　South　Harniss
station。

〃Warm　enough；　be　you？〃　inquired　his　driver　cheerfully。

〃Yes；　thank　you。〃

〃That's　good；　that's　good；　that's　good。　　Ye…es；　yes；　yes。　　Well
er　　Frederick；　how　do　you　think　you're　goin'　to　like　South
Harniss？〃

The　answer　was　rather　non…committal。　　The　boy　replied　that　he　had
not　seen　very　much　of　it　as　yet。　　His　companion　seemed　to　find　the
statement　highly　amusing。　　He　chuckled　and　slapped　his　knee。

〃Ain't　seen　much　of　it；　eh？　　No…o；　no；　no。　　I　guess　you　ain't；
guess　you　ain't。　　He；　he；　he　。　。　。　　Um　。　。　。　　Let's　see；　what　was　I
talkin'　about？〃

〃Why；　nothing　in　particular；　I　think；　Mr。Mr。〃

〃Didn't　I　tell　you　my　name？　　Sho；　sho！　　That's　funny。　　My　name's
KeelerLaban　B。　Keeler。　　That's　my　name　and　bookkeeper　is　my
station。　　South　Harniss　is　my　dwellin'　placeand　I　guess　likely
you'll　have　to　see　the　minister　about　the　rest　of　it。　　He；　he；　he！〃

His　passenger；　to　whom　the　old　schoolbook　quatrain　was　entirely
unknown；　wondered　what　on　earth　the　man　was　talking　about。
However；　he　smiled　politely　and　sniffed　with　a　dawning　suspicion。
It　seemed　to　him　there　was　an　unusual　scent　in　the　air；　a
spirituous　scent；　a

〃Have　a　peppermint　lozenger；〃　suggested　Mr。　Keeler；　with　sudden
enthusiasm。　　〃Peppermint　is　good　for　what　ails　you；　so　they　tell
me。　　Ye…es；　yes；　yes。　　Have　one。　　Have　two；　have　a　lot。〃

He　proceeded　to　have　a　lot　himself；　and　the　buggy　was　straightway
reflavored；　so　to　speak。　　The　boy；　his　suspicions　by　no　means
dispelled；　leaned　back　in　the　corner　behind　the　curtains　and
awaited　developments。　　He　was　warmer；　that　was　a　real　physical　and
consequently　a　slight　mental　comfort；　but　the　feeling　of
lonesomeness　was　still　acute。　　So　far　his　acquaintanceship　with　the
citizens　of　South　Harniss　had　not　filled　him　with　enthusiasm。　　They
were　what　he；　in　his　former　and　very　recent　state　of　existence；
would　have　called　〃Rubes。〃　　Were　the　grandparents　whom　he　had　never
met　this　sort　of　people？　　It　seemed　probable。　　What　sort　of　a　place
was　this　to　which　Fate　had　consigned　him？　　The　sense　of　utter
helplessness　which　had　had　him　in　its　clutches　since　the　day　when
he　received　the　news　of　his　father's　death　was　as　dreadfully　real
as　ever。　　He　had　not　been　consulted　at　all。　　No　one　had　asked　him
what　he　wished　to　do；　or　where　he　wished　to　go。　　The　letter　had
come　from　these　people；　the　Cape　Cod　grandparents　of　whom；　up　to
that　time；　he　had　never　even　heard；　and　he　had　been　shipped　to　them
as　though　he　were　a　piece　of　merchandise。　　And　what　was　to　become
of　him　now；　after　he　reached　his　destination？　　What　would　they
expect　him　to　do？　　Or　be？　　How　would　he　be　treated？

In　his　extensive　readinghe　had　been　an　omnivorous　readerthere
were　numerous　examples　of　youths　left；　like　him；　to　the　care　of
distant　relatives；　or　step…parents；　or　utter　strangers。　　Their
experiences；　generally　speaking；　had　not　been　cheerful　ones。　　Most
of　them　had　run　away。　　He　might　run　away；　but　somehow　the　idea　of
running　away；　with　no　money；　to　face　hardship　and　poverty　and　all
the　rest；　did　not　make　an　alluring　appeal。　　He　had　been　used　to
comfort　and　luxury　ever　since　he　could　remember；　and　his　imagination；
an　unusually　active　one；　visualized　much　more　keenly　than　the
average　the　tribulations　and　struggles　of　a　runaway。　　David
Copperfield；　he　remembered；　had　run　away；　but　he　did　it　when　a　kid；
not　a　man　like　himself。　　Nicholas　Nicklebyno；　Nicholas　had　not　run
away　exactly；　but　his　father　had　died　and　he　had　been　left　to　an
uncle。　　It　would　be　dreadful　if　his　grandfather　should　turn　out　to
be　a　man　like　Ralph　Nickleby。　　Yet　Nicholas　had　gotten　on　well　in
spite　of　his　wicked　relative。　　Yes；　and　how　gloriously　he　had　defied
the　old　rascal；　too！　　He　wondered　if　he　would　ever　be　called　upon　to
defy　his　grandfather。　　He　saw　himself　doing　itquietly；　a　perfect
gentleman　always；　but　with　the　noble　determination　of　one　performing
a　disagreeable　duty。　　His　chin　lifted　and　his　shoulders　squared
against　the　back　of　the　buggy。

Mr。　Keeler；　who　had　apparently　forgotten　his　passenger　altogether；
broke　into　song；


　　　　　〃She's　my　darlin'　hanky…panky
　　　　　　　　And　she　wears　a　number　two；
　　　　　　Her　father　keeps　a　barber　shop
　　　　　　　　Way　out　in　Kalamazoo。〃


He　sang　the　foregoing　twice　over　and　then　added　a　chorus；　plainly
improvised；　made　up　of　〃Di　doos〃　and　〃Di　dums〃　ad　lib。　　And　the
buggy　rolled　up　and　over　the　slope　of　a　little　hill　and；　in　the
face　of　a　screaming　sea　wind；　descended　a　long；　gentle　slope　to
where；　scattered　along　a　two…mile　water　frontage；　the　lights　of
South　Harniss　twinkled　sparsely。


　　　　　〃Did　doo　dum；　dee　dum；　doo　dum
　　　　　　　Di　doo　dum；　doo　dum　dee。〃


So　sang　Mr。　Keeler。　　Then　he　broke　off　his　solo　as　the　little　mare
turned　in　between　a　pair　of　high　wooden　posts　bordering　a　drive；
jogged　along　that　drive　for　perhaps　fifty　feet；　and　stopped　beside
the　stone　step　of　a　white　front　door。　　Through　the　arched　window
above　that　door　shone　lamplight　warm　and　yellow。

〃Whoa！〃　commanded　Mr。　Keeler；　most　unnecessarily。　　Then；　as　if
himself　a　bit　uncertain　as　to　his　exact　whereabouts；　he　peered　out
at　the　door　and　the　house　of　which　it　was　a　part；　afterward
settling　back　to　announce　triumphantly：　　〃And　here　we　be！　　Yes；
sir；　here　we