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diff --git a/3127-h/3127-h.htm b/3127-h/3127-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5e7e52 --- /dev/null +++ b/3127-h/3127-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3849 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Being a Boy, by Charles Dudley Warner + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Being a Boy, by Charles Dudley Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Being a Boy + +Author: Charles Dudley Warner + +Release Date: August 22, 2006 [EBook #3127] +Last Updated: February 24, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEING A BOY *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + BEING A BOY + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Charles Dudley Warner + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0006}.jpg" alt="{0006}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0006}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a>BEING A BOY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a>THE BOY AS A FARMER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a>THE DELIGHTS OF FARMING <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. </a>NO FARMING WITHOUT A BOY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a>THE BOY'S SUNDAY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a>THE GRINDSTONE OF LIFE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. </a>FICTION AND SENTIMENT <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a>THE COMING OF THANKSGIVING <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. </a>THE SEASON OF PUMPKIN-PIE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. </a>FIRST EXPERIENCE OF THE WORLD <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a>HOME INVENTIONS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. </a>THE LONELY FARMHOUSE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0013"> XIII. </a>JOHN'S FIRST PARTY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIV. </a>THE SUGAR CAMP <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0015"> XV. </a>THE HEART OF NEW ENGLAND <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0016"> XVI. </a>JOHN'S REVIVAL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVII. </a>WAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> + XVIII. </a>COUNTRY SCENES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> + XIX. </a>A CONTRAST TO THE NEW ENGLAND BOY <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. BEING A BOY + </h2> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0019}.jpg" alt="{0019}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0019}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + One of the best things in the world to be is a boy; it requires no + experience, though it needs some practice to be a good one. The + disadvantage of the position is that it does not last long enough; it is + soon over; just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be something + else, with a good deal more work to do and not half so much fun. And yet + every boy is anxious to be a man, and is very uneasy with the restrictions + that are put upon him as a boy. Good fun as it is to yoke up the calves + and play work, there is not a boy on a farm but would rather drive a yoke + of oxen at real work. What a glorious feeling it is, indeed, when a boy is + for the first time given the long whip and permitted to drive the oxen, + walking by their side, swinging the long lash, and shouting “Gee, Buck!” + “Haw, Golden!” “Whoa, Bright!” and all the rest of that remarkable + language, until he is red in the face, and all the neighbors for half a + mile are aware that something unusual is going on. If I were a boy, I am + not sure but I would rather drive the oxen than have a birthday. The + proudest day of my life was one day when I rode on the neap of the cart, + and drove the oxen, all alone, with a load of apples to the cider-mill. I + was so little that it was a wonder that I did n't fall off, and get under + the broad wheels. Nothing could make a boy, who cared anything for his + appearance, feel flatter than to be run over by the broad tire of a + cart-wheel. But I never heard of one who was, and I don't believe one ever + will be. As I said, it was a great day for me, but I don't remember that + the oxen cared much about it. They sagged along in their great clumsy way, + switching their tails in my face occasionally, and now and then giving a + lurch to this or that side of the road, attracted by a choice tuft of + grass. And then I “came the Julius Caesar” over them, if you will allow me + to use such a slang expression, a liberty I never should permit you. I + don't know that Julius Caesar ever drove cattle, though he must often have + seen the peasants from the Campagna “haw” and “gee” them round the Forum + (of course in Latin, a language that those cattle understood as well as + ours do English); but what I mean is, that I stood up and “hollered” with + all my might, as everybody does with oxen, as if they were born deaf, and + whacked them with the long lash over the head, just as the big folks did + when they drove. I think now that it was a cowardly thing to crack the + patient old fellows over the face and eyes, and make them wink in their + meek manner. If I am ever a boy again on a farm, I shall speak gently to + the oxen, and not go screaming round the farm like a crazy man; and I + shall not hit them a cruel cut with the lash every few minutes, because it + looks big to do so and I cannot think of anything else to do. I never + liked lickings myself, and I don't know why an ox should like them, + especially as he cannot reason about the moral improvement he is to get + out of them. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0023}.jpg" alt="{0023}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0023}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Speaking of Latin reminds me that I once taught my cows Latin. I don't + mean that I taught them to read it, for it is very difficult to teach a + cow to read Latin or any of the dead languages,—a cow cares more for + her cud than she does for all the classics put together. But if you begin + early, you can teach a cow, or a calf (if you can teach a calf anything, + which I doubt), Latin as well as English. There were ten cows, which I had + to escort to and from pasture night and morning. To these cows I gave the + names of the Roman numerals, beginning with Unus and Duo, and going up to + Decem. Decem was, of course, the biggest cow of the party, or at least she + was the ruler of the others, and had the place of honor in the stable and + everywhere else. I admire cows, and especially the exactness with which + they define their social position. In this case, Decem could “lick” Novem, + and Novem could “lick” Octo, and so on down to Unus, who could n't lick + anybody, except her own calf. I suppose I ought to have called the weakest + cow Una instead of Unus, considering her sex; but I did n't care much to + teach the cows the declensions of adjectives, in which I was not very well + up myself; and, besides, it would be of little use to a cow. People who + devote themselves too severely to study of the classics are apt to become + dried up; and you should never do anything to dry up a cow. Well, these + ten cows knew their names after a while, at least they appeared to, and + would take their places as I called them. At least, if Octo attempted to + get before Novem in going through the bars (I have heard people speak of a + “pair of bars” when there were six or eight of them), or into the stable, + the matter of precedence was settled then and there, and, once settled, + there was no dispute about it afterwards. Novem either put her horns into + Octo's ribs, and Octo shambled to one side, or else the two locked horns + and tried the game of push and gore until one gave up. Nothing is stricter + than the etiquette of a party of cows. There is nothing in royal courts + equal to it; rank is exactly settled, and the same individuals always have + the precedence. You know that at Windsor Castle, if the Royal Three-Ply + Silver Stick should happen to get in front of the Most Royal + Double-and-Twisted Golden Rod, when the court is going in to dinner, + something so dreadful would happen that we don't dare to think of it. It + is certain that the soup would get cold while the Golden Rod was pitching + the Silver Stick out of the Castle window into the moat, and perhaps the + island of Great Britain itself would split in two. But the people are very + careful that it never shall happen, so we shall probably never know what + the effect would be. Among cows, as I say, the question is settled in + short order, and in a different manner from what it sometimes is in other + society. It is said that in other society there is sometimes a great + scramble for the first place, for the leadership, as it is called, and + that women, and men too, fight for what is called position; and in order + to be first they will injure their neighbors by telling stories about them + and by backbiting, which is the meanest kind of biting there is, not + excepting the bite of fleas. But in cow society there is nothing of this + detraction in order to get the first place at the crib, or the farther + stall in the stable. If the question arises, the cows turn in, horns and + all, and settle it with one square fight, and that ends it. I have often + admired this trait in COWS. + </p> + <p> + Besides Latin, I used to try to teach the cows a little poetry, and it is + a very good plan. It does not do the cows much good, but it is very good + exercise for a boy farmer. I used to commit to memory as good short poems + as I could find (the cows liked to listen to “Thanatopsis” about as well + as anything), and repeat them when I went to the pasture, and as I drove + the cows home through the sweet ferns and down the rocky slopes. It + improves a boy's elocution a great deal more than driving oxen. + </p> + <p> + It is a fact, also, that if a boy repeats “Thanatopsis” while he is + milking, that operation acquires a certain dignity. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE BOY AS A FARMER + </h2> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0029}.jpg" alt="{0029}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0029}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Boys in general would be very good farmers if the current notions about + farming were not so very different from those they entertain. What passes + for laziness is very often an unwillingness to farm in a particular way. + For instance, some morning in early summer John is told to catch the + sorrel mare, harness her into the spring wagon, and put in the buffalo and + the best whip, for father is obliged to drive over to the “Corners, to see + a man” about some cattle, to talk with the road commissioner, to go to the + store for the “women folks,” and to attend to other important business; + and very likely he will not be back till sundown. It must be very pressing + business, for the old gentleman drives off in this way somewhere almost + every pleasant day, and appears to have a great deal on his mind. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, he tells John that he can play ball after he has done up the + chores. As if the chores could ever be “done up” on a farm. He is first to + clean out the horse-stable; then to take a bill-hook and cut down the + thistles and weeds from the fence corners in the home mowing-lot and along + the road towards the village; to dig up the docks round the garden patch; + to weed out the beet-bed; to hoe the early potatoes; to rake the sticks + and leaves out of the front yard; in short, there is work enough laid out + for John to keep him busy, it seems to him, till he comes of age; and at + half an hour to sundown he is to go for the cows “and mind he don't run + 'em!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” says John, “is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you get through in good season, you might pick over those + potatoes in the cellar; they are sprouting; they ain't fit to eat.” + </p> + <p> + John is obliged to his father, for if there is any sort of chore more + cheerful to a boy than another, on a pleasant day, it is rubbing the + sprouts off potatoes in a dark cellar. And the old gentleman mounts his + wagon and drives away down the enticing road, with the dog bounding along + beside the wagon, and refusing to come back at John's call. John half + wishes he were the dog. The dog knows the part of farming that suits him. + He likes to run along the road and see all the dogs and other people, and + he likes best of all to lie on the store steps at the Corners—while + his master's horse is dozing at the post and his master is talking + politics in the store—with the other dogs of his acquaintance, + snapping at mutually annoying flies, and indulging in that delightful dog + gossip which is expressed by a wag of the tail and a sniff of the nose. + Nobody knows how many dogs' characters are destroyed in this gossip, or + how a dog may be able to insinuate suspicion by a wag of the tail as a man + can by a shrug of the shoulders, or sniff a slander as a man can suggest + one by raising his eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + John looks after the old gentleman driving off in state, with the odorous + buffalo-robe and the new whip, and he thinks that is the sort of farming + he would like to do. And he cries after his departing parent, + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0033}.jpg" alt="{0033}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0033}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “Say, father, can't I go over to the farther pasture and salt the cattle?” + John knows that he could spend half a day very pleasantly in going over to + that pasture, looking for bird's nests and shying at red squirrels on the + way, and who knows but he might “see” a sucker in the meadow brook, and + perhaps get a “jab” at him with a sharp stick. He knows a hole where there + is a whopper; and one of his plans in life is to go some day and snare + him, and bring him home in triumph. It is therefore strongly impressed + upon his mind that the cattle want salting. But his father, without + turning his head, replies, + </p> + <p> + “No, they don't need salting any more 'n you do!” And the old equipage + goes rattling down the road, and John whistles his disappointment. When I + was a boy on a farm, and I suppose it is so now, cattle were never salted + half enough! + </p> + <p> + John goes to his chores, and gets through the stable as soon as he can, + for that must be done; but when it comes to the out-door work, that rather + drags. There are so many things to distract the attention—a chipmunk + in the fence, a bird on a near-tree, and a hen-hawk circling high in the + air over the barnyard. John loses a little time in stoning the chipmunk, + which rather likes the sport, and in watching the bird, to find where its + nest is; and he convinces himself that he ought to watch the hawk, lest it + pounce upon the chickens, and therefore, with an easy conscience, he + spends fifteen minutes in hallooing to that distant bird, and follows it + away out of sight over the woods, and then wishes it would come back + again. And then a carriage with two horses, and a trunk on behind, goes + along the road; and there is a girl in the carriage who looks out at John, + who is suddenly aware that his trousers are patched on each knee and in + two places behind; and he wonders if she is rich, and whose name is on the + trunk, and how much the horses cost, and whether that nice-looking man is + the girl's father, and if that boy on the seat with the driver is her + brother, and if he has to do chores; and as the gay sight disappears, John + falls to thinking about the great world beyond the farm, of cities, and + people who are always dressed up, and a great many other things of which + he has a very dim notion. And then a boy, whom John knows, rides by in a + wagon with his father, and the boy makes a face at John, and John returns + the greeting with a twist of his own visage and some symbolic gestures. + All these things take time. The work of cutting down the big weeds gets on + slowly, although it is not very disagreeable, or would not be if it were + play. John imagines that yonder big thistle is some whiskered villain, of + whom he has read in a fairy book, and he advances on him with “Die, + ruffian!” and slashes off his head with the bill-hook; or he charges upon + the rows of mullein-stalks as if they were rebels in regimental ranks, and + hews them down without mercy. What fun it might be if there were only + another boy there to help. But even war, single handed, gets to be + tiresome. It is dinner-time before John finishes the weeds, and it is + cow-time before John has made much impression on the garden. + </p> + <p> + This garden John has no fondness for. He would rather hoe corn all day + than work in it. Father seems to think that it is easy work that John can + do, because it is near the house! John's continual plan in this life is to + go fishing. When there comes a rainy day, he attempts to carry it out. But + ten chances to one his father has different views. As it rains so that + work cannot be done out-doors, it is a good time to work in the garden. He + can run into the house between the heavy showers. John accordingly detests + the garden; and the only time he works briskly in it is when he has a + stent set, to do so much weeding before the Fourth of July. If he is spry, + he can make an extra holiday the Fourth and the day after. Two days of + gunpowder and ball-playing! When I was a boy, I supposed there was some + connection between such and such an amount of work done on the farm and + our national freedom. I doubted if there could be any Fourth of July if my + stent was not done. I, at least, worked for my Independence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE DELIGHTS OF FARMING + </h2> + <p> + There are so many bright spots in the life of a farm-boy, that I sometimes + think I should like to live the life over again; I should almost be + willing to be a girl if it were not for the chores. There is a great + comfort to a boy in the amount of work he can get rid of doing. It is + sometimes astonishing how slow he can go on an errand,—he who leads + the school in a race. The world is new and interesting to him, and there + is so much to take his attention off, when he is sent to do anything. + Perhaps he himself couldn't explain why, when he is sent to the neighbor's + after yeast, he stops to stone the frogs; he is not exactly cruel, but he + wants to see if he can hit 'em. No other living thing can go so slow as a + boy sent on an errand. His legs seem to be lead, unless he happens to espy + a woodchuck in an adjoining lot, when he gives chase to it like a deer; + and it is a curious fact about boys, that two will be a great deal slower + in doing anything than one, and that the more you have to help on a piece + of work the less is accomplished. Boys have a great power of helping each + other to do nothing; and they are so innocent about it, and unconscious. + “I went as quick as ever I could,” says the boy: his father asks him why + he did n't stay all night, when he has been absent three hours on a + ten-minute errand. The sarcasm has no effect on the boy. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0041}.jpg" alt="{0041}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0041}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Going after the cows was a serious thing in my day. I had to climb a hill, + which was covered with wild strawberries in the season. Could any boy pass + by those ripe berries? And then in the fragrant hill pasture there were + beds of wintergreen with red berries, tufts of columbine, roots of + sassafras to be dug, and dozens of things good to eat or to smell, that I + could not resist. It sometimes even lay in my way to climb a tree to look + for a crow's nest, or to swing in the top, and to try if I could see the + steeple of the village church. It became very important sometimes for me + to see that steeple; and in the midst of my investigations the tin horn + would blow a great blast from the farmhouse, which would send a cold chill + down my back in the hottest days. I knew what it meant. It had a + frightfully impatient quaver in it, not at all like the sweet note that + called us to dinner from the hay-field. It said, “Why on earth does n't + that boy come home? It is almost dark, and the cows ain't milked!” And + that was the time the cows had to start into a brisk pace and make up for + lost time. I wonder if any boy ever drove the cows home late, who did not + say that the cows were at the very farther end of the pasture, and that + “Old Brindle” was hidden in the woods, and he couldn't find her for ever + so long! The brindle cow is the boy's scapegoat, many a time. + </p> + <p> + No other boy knows how to appreciate a holiday as the farm-boy does; and + his best ones are of a peculiar kind. Going fishing is of course one sort. + The excitement of rigging up the tackle, digging the bait, and the + anticipation of great luck! These are pure pleasures, enjoyed because they + are rare. Boys who can go a-fishing any time care but little for it. + Tramping all day through bush and brier, fighting flies and mosquitoes, + and branches that tangle the line, and snags that break the hook, and + returning home late and hungry, with wet feet and a string of speckled + trout on a willow twig, and having the family crowd out at the kitchen + door to look at 'em, and say, “Pretty well done for you, bub; did you + catch that big one yourself?”—this is also pure happiness, the like + of which the boy will never have again, not if he comes to be selectman + and deacon and to “keep store.” + </p> + <p> + But the holidays I recall with delight were the two days in spring and + fall, when we went to the distant pasture-land, in a neighboring town, + maybe, to drive thither the young cattle and colts, and to bring them back + again. It was a wild and rocky upland where our great pasture was, many + miles from home, the road to it running by a brawling river, and up a + dashing brook-side among great hills. What a day's adventure it was! It + was like a journey to Europe. The night before, I could scarcely sleep for + thinking of it! and there was no trouble about getting me up at sunrise + that morning. The breakfast was eaten, the luncheon was packed in a large + basket, with bottles of root beer and a jug of switchel, which packing I + superintended with the greatest interest; and then the cattle were to be + collected for the march, and the horses hitched up. Did I shirk any duty? + Was I slow? I think not. I was willing to run my legs off after the frisky + steers, who seemed to have an idea they were going on a lark, and + frolicked about, dashing into all gates, and through all bars except the + right ones; and how cheerfully I did yell at them. + </p> + <p> + It was a glorious chance to “holler,” and I have never since heard any + public speaker on the stump or at camp-meeting who could make more noise. + I have often thought it fortunate that the amount of noise in a boy does + not increase in proportion to his size; if it did, the world could not + contain it. + </p> + <p> + The whole day was full of excitement and of freedom. We were away from the + farm, which to a boy is one of the best parts of farming; we saw other + farms and other people at work; I had the pleasure of marching along, and + swinging my whip, past boys whom I knew, who were picking up stones. Every + turn of the road, every bend and rapid of the river, the great bowlders by + the wayside, the watering-troughs, the giant pine that had been struck by + lightning, the mysterious covered bridge over the river where it was, most + swift and rocky and foamy, the chance eagle in the blue sky, the sense of + going somewhere,—why, as I recall all these things I feel that even + the Prince Imperial, as he used to dash on horseback through the Bois de + Boulogne, with fifty mounted hussars clattering at his heels, and crowds + of people cheering, could not have been as happy as was I, a boy in short + jacket and shorter pantaloons, trudging in the dust that day behind the + steers and colts, cracking my black-stock whip. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0047}.jpg" alt="{0047}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0047}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + I wish the journey would never end; but at last, by noon, we reach the + pastures and turn in the herd; and after making the tour of the lots to + make sure there are no breaks in the fences, we take our luncheon from the + wagon and eat it under the trees by the spring. This is the supreme moment + of the day. This is the way to live; this is like the Swiss Family + Robinson, and all the rest of my delightful acquaintances in romance. + Baked beans, rye-and-indian bread (moist, remember), doughnuts and cheese, + pie, and root beer. What richness! You may live to dine at Delmonico's, + or, if those Frenchmen do not eat each other up, at Philippe's, in Rue + Montorgueil in Paris, where the dear old Thackeray used to eat as good a + dinner as anybody; but you will get there neither doughnuts, nor pie, nor + root beer, nor anything so good as that luncheon at noon in the old + pasture, high among the Massachusetts hills! Nor will you ever, if you + live to be the oldest boy in the world, have any holiday equal to the one + I have described. But I always regretted that I did not take along a + fishline, just to “throw in” the brook we passed. I know there were trout + there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. NO FARMING WITHOUT A BOY + </h2> + <p> + Say what you will about the general usefulness of boys, it is my + impression that a farm without a boy would very soon come to grief. What + the boy does is the life of the farm. He is the factotum, always in + demand, always expected to do the thousand indispensable things that + nobody else will do. Upon him fall all the odds and ends, the most + difficult things. After everybody else is through, he has to finish up. + His work is like a woman's,—perpetual waiting on others. Everybody + knows how much easier it is to eat a good dinner than it is to wash the + dishes afterwards. Consider what a boy on a farm is required to do; things + that must be done, or life would actually stop. + </p> + <p> + It is understood, in the first place, that he is to do all the errands, to + go to the store, to the post office, and to carry all sorts of messages. + If he had as many legs as a centipede, they would tire before night. His + two short limbs seem to him entirely inadequate to the task. He would like + to have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and rotate about in the same + way. This he sometimes tries to do; and people who have seen him “turning + cart-wheels” along the side of the road have supposed that he was amusing + himself, and idling his time; he was only trying to invent a new mode of + locomotion, so that he could economize his legs and do his errands with + greater dispatch. He practices standing on his head, in order to accustom + himself to any position. Leapfrog is one of his methods of getting over + the ground quickly. He would willingly go an errand any distance if he + could leap-frog it with a few other boys. He has a natural genius for + combining pleasure with business. This is the reason why, when he is sent + to the spring for a pitcher of water, and the family are waiting at the + dinner-table, he is absent so long; for he stops to poke the frog that + sits on the stone, or, if there is a penstock, to put his hand over the + spout and squirt the water a little while. He is the one who spreads the + grass when the men have cut it; he mows it away in the barn; he rides the + horse to cultivate the corn, up and down the hot, weary rows; he picks up + the potatoes when they are dug; he drives the cows night and morning; he + brings wood and water and splits kindling; he gets up the horse and puts + out the horse; whether he is in the house or out of it, there is always + something for him to do. Just before school in winter he shovels paths; in + summer he turns the grindstone. He knows where there are lots of + winter-greens and sweet flag-root, but instead of going for them, he is to + stay in-doors and pare apples and stone raisins and pound something in a + mortar. And yet, with his mind full of schemes of what he would like to + do, and his hands full of occupations, he is an idle boy who has nothing + to busy himself with but school and chores! He would gladly do all the + work if somebody else would do the chores, he thinks, and yet I doubt if + any boy ever amounted to anything in the world, or was of much use as a + man, who did not enjoy the advantages of a liberal education in the way of + chores. + </p> + <p> + A boy on a farm is nothing without his pets; at least a dog, and probably + rabbits, chickens, ducks, and guinea-hens. A guinea-hen suits a boy. It is + entirely useless, and makes a more disagreeable noise than a Chinese gong. + I once domesticated a young fox which a neighbor had caught. It is a + mistake to suppose the fox cannot be tamed. Jacko was a very clever little + animal, and behaved, in all respects, with propriety. He kept Sunday as + well as any day, and all the ten commandments that he could understand. He + was a very graceful playfellow, and seemed to have an affection for me. He + lived in a wood-pile in the dooryard, and when I lay down at the entrance + to his house and called him, he would come out and sit on his tail and + lick my face just like a grown person. I taught him a great many tricks + and all the virtues. That year I had a large number of hens, and Jacko + went about among them with the most perfect indifference, never looking on + them to lust after them, as I could see, and never touching an egg or a + feather. So excellent was his reputation that I would have trusted him in + the hen-roost in the dark without counting the hens. In short, he was + domesticated, and I was fond of him and very proud of him, exhibiting him + to all our visitors as an example of what affectionate treatment would do + in subduing the brute instincts. I preferred him to my dog, whom I had, + with much patience, taught to go up a long hill alone and surround the + cows, and drive them home from the remote pasture. He liked the fun of it + at first, but by and by he seemed to get the notion that it was a “chore,” + and when I whistled for him to go for the cows, he would turn tail and run + the other way, and the more I whistled and threw stones at him, the faster + he would run. His name was Turk, and I should have sold him if he had not + been the kind of dog that nobody will buy. I suppose he was not a cow-dog, + but what they call a sheep-dog. At least, when he got big enough, he used + to get into the pasture and chase the sheep to death. That was the way he + got into trouble, and lost his valuable life. A dog is of great use on a + farm, and that is the reason a boy likes him. He is good to bite peddlers + and small children, and run out and yelp at wagons that pass by, and to + howl all night when the moon shines. And yet, if I were a boy again, the + first thing I would have should be a dog; for dogs are great companions, + and as active and spry as a boy at doing nothing. They are also good to + bark at woodchuck-holes. + </p> + <p> + A good dog will bark at a woodchuck-hole long after the animal has retired + to a remote part of his residence, and escaped by another hole. This + deceives the woodchuck. Some of the most delightful hours of my life have + been spent in hiding and watching the hole where the dog was not. What an + exquisite thrill ran through my frame when the timid nose appeared, was + withdrawn, poked out again, and finally followed by the entire animal, who + looked cautiously about, and then hopped away to feed on the clover. At + that moment I rushed in, occupied the “home base,” yelled to Turk, and + then danced with delight at the combat between the spunky woodchuck and + the dog. They were about the same size, but science and civilization won + the day. I did not reflect then that it would have been more in the + interest of civilization if the woodchuck had killed the dog. I do not + know why it is that boys so like to hunt and kill animals; but the excuse + that I gave in this case for the murder was, that the woodchuck ate the + clover and trod it down, and, in fact, was a woodchuck. It was not till + long after that I learned with surprise that he is a rodent mammal, of the + species Arctomys monax, is called at the West a ground-hog, and is eaten + by people of color with great relish. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0057}.jpg" alt="{0057}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0057}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + But I have forgotten my beautiful fox. Jacko continued to deport himself + well until the young chickens came; he was actually cured of the fox vice + of chicken-stealing. He used to go with me about the coops, pricking up + his ears in an intelligent manner, and with a demure eye and the most + virtuous droop of the tail. Charming fox! If he had held out a little + while longer, I should have put him into a Sunday-school book. But I began + to miss chickens. They disappeared mysteriously in the night. I would not + suspect Jacko at first, for he looked so honest, and in the daytime seemed + to be as much interested in the chickens as I was. But one morning, when I + went to call him, I found feathers at the entrance of his hole,—chicken + feathers. He couldn't deny it. He was a thief. His fox nature had come out + under severe temptation. And he died an unnatural death. He had a thousand + virtues and one crime. But that crime struck at the foundation of society. + He deceived and stole; he was a liar and a thief, and no pretty ways could + hide the fact. His intelligent, bright face couldn't save him. If he had + been honest, he might have grown up to be a large, ornamental fox. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE BOY'S SUNDAY + </h2> + <p> + Sunday in the New England hill towns used to begin Saturday night at + sundown; and the sun is lost to sight behind the hills there before it has + set by the almanac. I remember that we used to go by the almanac Saturday + night and by the visible disappearance Sunday night. On Saturday night we + very slowly yielded to the influences of the holy time, which were + settling down upon us, and submitted to the ablutions which were as + inevitable as Sunday; but when the sun (and it never moved so slow) slid + behind the hills Sunday night, the effect upon the watching boy was like a + shock from a galvanic battery; something flashed through all his limbs and + set them in motion, and no “play” ever seemed so sweet to him as that + between sundown and dark Sunday night. This, however, was on the + supposition that he had conscientiously kept Sunday, and had not gone in + swimming and got drowned. This keeping of Saturday night instead of Sunday + night we did not very well understand; but it seemed, on the whole, a good + thing that we should rest Saturday night when we were tired, and play + Sunday night when we were rested. I supposed, however, that it was an + arrangement made to suit the big boys who wanted to go “courting” Sunday + night. Certainly they were not to be blamed, for Sunday was the day when + pretty girls were most fascinating, and I have never since seen any so + lovely as those who used to sit in the gallery and in the singers' seats + in the bare old meeting-houses. + </p> + <p> + Sunday to the country farmer-boy was hardly the relief that it was to the + other members of the family; for the same chores must be done that day as + on others, and he could not divert his mind with whistling, hand-springs, + or sending the dog into the river after sticks. He had to submit, in the + first place, to the restraint of shoes and stockings. He read in the Old + Testament that when Moses came to holy ground, he put off his shoes; but + the boy was obliged to put his on, upon the holy day, not only to go to + meeting, but while he sat at home. Only the emancipated country-boy, who + is as agile on his bare feet as a young kid, and rejoices in the pressure + of the warm soft earth, knows what a hardship it is to tie on stiff shoes. + The monks who put peas in their shoes as a penance do not suffer more than + the country-boy in his penitential Sunday shoes. I recall the celerity + with which he used to kick them off at sundown. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0063}.jpg" alt="{0063}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0063}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Sunday morning was not an idle one for the farmer-boy. He must rise + tolerably early, for the cows were to be milked and driven to pasture; + family prayers were a little longer than on other days; there were the + Sunday-school verses to be relearned, for they did not stay in mind over + night; perhaps the wagon was to be greased before the neighbors began to + drive by; and the horse was to be caught out of the pasture, ridden home + bareback, and harnessed. + </p> + <p> + This catching the horse, perhaps two of them, was very good fun usually, + and would have broken the Sunday if the horse had not been wanted for + taking the family to meeting. It was so peaceful and still in the pasture + on Sunday morning; but the horses were never so playful, the colts never + so frisky. Round and round the lot the boy went calling, in an entreating + Sunday voice, “Jock, jock, jock, jock,” and shaking his salt-dish, while + the horses, with heads erect, and shaking tails and flashing heels, dashed + from corner to corner, and gave the boy a pretty good race before he could + coax the nose of one of them into his dish. The boy got angry, and came + very near saying “dum it,” but he rather enjoyed the fun, after all. + </p> + <p> + The boy remembers how his mother's anxiety was divided between the set of + his turn-over collar, the parting of his hair, and his memory of the + Sunday-school verses; and what a wild confusion there was through the + house in getting off for meeting, and how he was kept running hither and + thither, to get the hymn-book, or a palm-leaf fan, or the best whip, or to + pick from the Sunday part of the garden the bunch of caraway-seed. Already + the deacon's mare, with a wagon-load of the deacon's folks, had gone + shambling past, head and tail drooping, clumsy hoofs kicking up clouds of + dust, while the good deacon sat jerking the reins, in an automatic way, + and the “womenfolks” patiently saw the dust settle upon their best summer + finery. Wagon after wagon went along the sandy road, and when our boy's + family started, they became part of a long procession, which sent up a + mile of dust and a pungent, if not pious smell of buffalo-robes. There + were fiery horses in the trail which had to be held in, for it was neither + etiquette nor decent to pass anybody on Sunday. It was a great delight to + the farmer-boy to see all this procession of horses, and to exchange sly + winks with the other boys, who leaned over the wagon-seats for that + purpose. Occasionally a boy rode behind, with his back to the family, and + his pantomime was always some thing wonderful to see, and was considered + very daring and wicked. + </p> + <p> + The meeting-house which our boy remembers was a high, square building, + without a steeple. Within it had a lofty pulpit, with doors underneath and + closets where sacred things were kept, and where the tithing-men were + supposed to imprison bad boys. The pews were square, with seats facing + each other, those on one side low for the children, and all with hinges, + so that they could be raised when the congregation stood up for prayers + and leaned over the backs of the pews, as horses meet each other across a + pasture fence. After prayers these seats used to be slammed down with a + long-continued clatter, which seemed to the boys about the best part of + the exercises. The galleries were very high, and the singers' seats, where + the pretty girls sat, were the most conspicuous of all. To sit in the + gallery away from the family, was a privilege not often granted to the + boy. The tithing-man, who carried a long rod and kept order in the house, + and out-doors at noontime, sat in the gallery, and visited any boy who + whispered or found curious passages in the Bible and showed them to + another boy. It was an awful moment when the bushy-headed tithing-man + approached a boy in sermon-time. The eyes of the whole congregation were + on him, and he could feel the guilt ooze out of his burning face. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0069}.jpg" alt="{0069}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0069}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + At noon was Sunday-school, and after that, before the afternoon service, + in summer, the boys had a little time to eat their luncheon together at + the watering-trough, where some of the elders were likely to be gathered, + talking very solemnly about cattle; or they went over to a neighboring + barn to see the calves; or they slipped off down the roadside to a place + where they could dig sassafras or the root of the sweet-flag, roots very + fragrant in the mind of many a boy with religious associations to this + day. There was often an odor of sassafras in the afternoon service. It + used to stand in my mind as a substitute for the Old Testament incense of + the Jews. Something in the same way the big bass-viol in the choir took + the place of “David's harp of solemn sound.” + </p> + <p> + The going home from meeting was more cheerful and lively than the coming + to it. There was all the bustle of getting the horses out of the sheds and + bringing them round to the meeting-house steps. At noon the boys sometimes + sat in the wagons and swung the whips without cracking them: now it was + permitted to give them a little snap in order to bring the horses up in + good style; and the boy was rather proud of the horse if it pranced a + little while the timid “women-folks” were trying to get in. The boy had an + eye for whatever life and stir there was in a New England Sunday. He liked + to drive home fast. The old house and the farm looked pleasant to him. + There was an extra dinner when they reached home, and a cheerful + consciousness of duty performed made it a pleasant dinner. Long before + sundown the Sunday-school book had been read, and the boy sat waiting in + the house with great impatience the signal that the “day of rest” was + over. A boy may not be very wicked, and yet not see the need of “rest.” + Neither his idea of rest nor work is that of older farmers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE GRINDSTONE OF LIFE + </h2> + <p> + If there is one thing more than another that hardens the lot of the + farmer-boy, it is the grindstone. Turning grindstones to grind scythes is + one of those heroic but unobtrusive occupations for which one gets no + credit. It is a hopeless kind of task, and, however faithfully the crank + is turned, it is one that brings little reputation. There is a great deal + of poetry about haying—I mean for those not engaged in it. One likes + to hear the whetting of the scythes on a fresh morning and the response of + the noisy bobolink, who always sits upon the fence and superintends the + cutting of the dew-laden grass. There is a sort of music in the “swish” + and a rhythm in the swing of the scythes in concert. The boy has not much + time to attend to it, for it is lively business “spreading” after half a + dozen men who have only to walk along and lay the grass low, while the boy + has the whole hay-field on his hands. He has little time for the poetry of + haying, as he struggles along, filling the air with the wet mass which he + shakes over his head, and picking his way with short legs and bare feet + amid the short and freshly cut stubble. + </p> + <p> + But if the scythes cut well and swing merrily, it is due to the boy who + turned the grindstone. Oh, it was nothing to do, just turn the grindstone + a few minutes for this and that one before breakfast; any “hired man” was + authorized to order the boy to turn the grindstone. How they did bear on, + those great strapping fellows! Turn, turn, turn, what a weary go it was. + For my part, I used to like a grindstone that “wabbled” a good deal on its + axis, for when I turned it fast, it put the grinder on a lively lookout + for cutting his hands, and entirely satisfied his desire that I should + “turn faster.” It was some sport to make the water fly and wet the + grinder, suddenly starting up quickly and surprising him when I was + turning very slowly. I used to wish sometimes that I could turn fast + enough to make the stone fly into a dozen pieces. Steady turning is what + the grinders like, and any boy who turns steadily, so as to give an even + motion to the stone, will be much praised, and will be in demand. I advise + any boy who desires to do this sort of work to turn steadily. If he does + it by jerks and in a fitful manner, the “hired men” will be very apt to + dispense with his services and turn the grindstone for each other. + </p> + <p> + This is one of the most disagreeable tasks of the boy farmer, and, hard as + it is, I do, not know why it is supposed to belong especially to + childhood. But it is, and one of the certain marks that second childhood + has come to a man on a farm is, that he is asked to turn the grindstone as + if he were a boy again. When the old man is good for nothing else, when he + can neither mow nor pitch, and scarcely “rake after,” he can turn + grindstone, and it is in this way that he renews his youth. “Ain't you + ashamed to have your granther turn the grindstone?” asks the hired man of + the boy. So the boy takes hold and turns himself, till his little back + aches. When he gets older, he wishes he had replied, “Ain't you ashamed to + make either an old man or a little boy do such hard grinding work?” + </p> + <p> + Doing the regular work of this world is not much, the boy thinks, but the + wearisome part is the waiting on the people who do the work. And the boy + is not far wrong. This is what women and boys have to do on a farm, wait + upon everybody who—works. The trouble with the boy's life is, that + he has no time that he can call his own. He is, like a barrel of beer, + always on draft. The men-folks, having worked in the regular hours, lie + down and rest, stretch themselves idly in the shade at noon, or lounge + about after supper. Then the boy, who has done nothing all day but turn + grindstone, and spread hay, and rake after, and run his little legs off at + everybody's beck and call, is sent on some errand or some household chore, + in order that time shall not hang heavy on his hands. The boy comes nearer + to perpetual motion than anything else in nature, only it is not + altogether a voluntary motion. The time that the farm-boy gets for his own + is usually at the end of a stent. We used to be given a certain piece of + corn to hoe, or a certain quantity of corn to husk in so many days. If we + finished the task before the time set, we had the remainder to ourselves. + In my day it used to take very sharp work to gain anything, but we were + always anxious to take the chance. I think we enjoyed the holiday in + anticipation quite as much as we did when we had won it. Unless it was + training-day, or Fourth of July, or the circus was coming, it was a little + difficult to find anything big enough to fill our anticipations of the fun + we would have in the day or the two or three days we had earned. We did + not want to waste the time on any common thing. Even going fishing in one + of the wild mountain brooks was hardly up to the mark, for we could + sometimes do that on a rainy day. Going down to the village store was not + very exciting, and was, on the whole, a waste of our precious time. Unless + we could get out our military company, life was apt to be a little blank, + even on the holidays for which we had worked so hard. If you went to see + another boy, he was probably at work in the hay-field or the potato-patch, + and his father looked at you askance. You sometimes took hold and helped + him, so that he could go and play with you; but it was usually time to go + for the cows before the task was done. The fact is, or used to be, that + the amusements of a boy in the country are not many. Snaring “suckers” out + of the deep meadow brook used to be about as good as any that I had. The + North American sucker is not an engaging animal in all respects; his body + is comely enough, but his mouth is puckered up like that of a purse. The + mouth is not formed for the gentle angle-worm nor the delusive fly of the + fishermen. It is necessary, therefore, to snare the fish if you want him. + In the sunny days he lies in the deep pools, by some big stone or near the + bank, poising himself quite still, or only stirring his fins a little now + and then, as an elephant moves his ears. He will lie so for hours, or + rather float, in perfect idleness and apparent bliss. The boy who also has + a holiday, but cannot keep still, comes along and peeps over the bank. + “Golly, ain't he a big one!” Perhaps he is eighteen inches long, and + weighs two or three pounds. He lies there among his friends, little fish + and big ones, quite a school of them, perhaps a district school, that only + keeps in warm days in the summer. The pupils seem to have little to learn, + except to balance themselves and to turn gracefully with a flirt of the + tail. Not much is taught but “deportment,” and some of the old suckers are + perfect Turveydrops in that. +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0079}.jpg" alt="{0079}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0079}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> +The boy is armed with a pole and a stout + line, and on the end of it a brass wire bent into a hoop, which is a + slipnoose, and slides together when anything is caught in it. The boy + approaches the bank and looks over. There he lies, calm as a whale. The + boy devours him with his eyes. He is almost too much excited to drop the + snare into the water without making a noise. A puff of wind comes and + ruffles the surface, so that he cannot see the fish. It is calm again, and + there he still is, moving his fins in peaceful security. The boy lowers + his snare behind the fish and slips it along. He intends to get it around + him just back of the gills and then elevate him with a sudden jerk. It is + a delicate operation, for the snare will turn a little, and if it hits the + fish, he is off. However, it goes well; the wire is almost in place, when + suddenly the fish, as if he had a warning in a dream, for he appears to + see nothing, moves his tail just a little, glides out of the loop, and + with no seeming appearance of frustrating any one's plans, lounges over to + the other side of the pool; and there he reposes just as if he was not + spoiling the boy's holiday. This slight change of base on the part of the + fish requires the boy to reorganize his whole campaign, get a new position + on the bank, a new line of approach, and patiently wait for the wind and + sun before he can lower his line. This time, cunning and patience are + rewarded. The hoop encircles the unsuspecting fish. The boy's eyes almost + start from his head as he gives a tremendous jerk, and feels by the + dead-weight that he has got him fast. Out he comes, up he goes in the air, + and the boy runs to look at him. In this transaction, however, no one can + be more surprised than the sucker. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. FICTION AND SENTIMENT + </h2> + <p> + The boy farmer does not appreciate school vacations as highly as his city + cousin. When school keeps, he has only to “do chores and go to school,” + but between terms there are a thousand things on the farm that have been + left for the boy to do. Picking up stones in the pastures and piling them + in heaps used to be one of them. Some lots appeared to grow stones, or + else the sun every year drew them to the surface, as it coaxes the round + cantelopes out of the soft garden soil; it is certain that there were + fields that always gave the boys this sort of fall work. And very lively + work it was on frosty mornings for the barefooted boys, who were + continually turning up the larger stones in order to stand for a moment in + the warm place that had been covered from the frost. A boy can stand on + one leg as well as a Holland stork; and the boy who found a warm spot for + the sole of his foot was likely to stand in it until the words, “Come, + stir your stumps,” broke in discordantly upon his meditations. For the boy + is very much given to meditations. If he had his way, he would do nothing + in a hurry; he likes to stop and think about things, and enjoy his work as + he goes along. He picks up potatoes as if each one were a lump of gold + just turned out of the dirt, and requiring careful examination. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0086}.jpg" alt="{0086}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0086}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Although the country-boy feels a little joy when school breaks up (as he + does when anything breaks up, or any change takes place), since he is + released from the discipline and restraint of it, yet the school is his + opening into the world,—his romance. Its opportunities for enjoyment + are numberless. He does not exactly know what he is set at books for; he + takes spelling rather as an exercise for his lungs, standing up and + shouting out the words with entire recklessness of consequences; he + grapples doggedly with arithmetic and geography as something that must be + cleared out of his way before recess, but not at all with the zest he + would dig a woodchuck out of his hole. But recess! Was ever any enjoyment + so keen as that with which a boy rushes out of the schoolhouse door for + the ten minutes of recess? He is like to burst with animal spirits; he + runs like a deer; he can nearly fly; and he throws himself into play with + entire self-forgetfulness, and an energy that would overturn the world if + his strength were proportioned to it. For ten minutes the world is + absolutely his; the weights are taken off, restraints are loosed, and he + is his own master for that brief time,—as he never again will be if + he lives to be as old as the king of Thule,—and nobody knows how old + he was. And there is the nooning, a solid hour, in which vast projects can + be carried out which have been slyly matured during the school-hours: + expeditions are undertaken; wars are begun between the Indians on one side + and the settlers on the other; the military company is drilled (without + uniforms or arms), or games are carried on which involve miles of running, + and an expenditure of wind sufficient to spell the spelling-book through + at the highest pitch. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0090}.jpg" alt="{0090}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0090}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Friendships are formed, too, which are fervent, if not enduring, and + enmities contracted which are frequently “taken out” on the spot, after a + rough fashion boys have of settling as they go along; cases of long + credit, either in words or trade, are not frequent with boys; boot on + jack-knives must be paid on the nail; and it is considered much more + honorable to out with a personal grievance at once, even if the + explanation is made with the fists, than to pretend fair, and then take a + sneaking revenge on some concealed opportunity. The country-boy at the + district school is introduced into a wider world than he knew at home, in + many ways. Some big boy brings to school a copy of the Arabian Nights, a + dog-eared copy, with cover, title-page, and the last leaves missing, which + is passed around, and slyly read under the desk, and perhaps comes to the + little boy whose parents disapprove of novel-reading, and have no work of + fiction in the house except a pious fraud called “Six Months in a + Convent,” and the latest comic almanac. The boy's eyes dilate as he steals + some of the treasures out of the wondrous pages, and he longs to lose + himself in the land of enchantment open before him. He tells at home that + he has seen the most wonderful book that ever was, and a big boy has + promised to lend it to him. “Is it a true book, John?” asks the + grandmother; “because, if it is n't true, it is the worst thing that a boy + can read.” (This happened years ago.) John cannot answer as to the truth + of the book, and so does not bring it home; but he borrows it, + nevertheless, and conceals it in the barn and, lying in the hay-mow, is + lost in its enchantments many an odd hour when he is supposed to be doing + chores. There were no chores in the Arabian Nights; the boy there had but + to rub the ring and summon a genius, who would feed the calves and pick up + chips and bring in wood in a minute. It was through this emblazoned portal + that the boy walked into the world of books, which he soon found was + larger than his own, and filled with people he longed to know. + </p> + <p> + And the farmer-boy is not without his sentiment and his secrets, though he + has never been at a children's party in his life, and, in fact, never has + heard that children go into society when they are seven, and give regular + wine-parties when they reach the ripe age of nine. But one of his regrets + at having the summer school close is dimly connected with a little girl, + whom he does not care much for, would a great deal rather play with a boy + than with her at recess,—but whom he will not see again for some + time,—a sweet little thing, who is very friendly with John, and with + whom he has been known to exchange bits of candy wrapped up in paper, and + for whom he cut in two his lead-pencil, and gave her half. At the last day + of school she goes part way with John, and then he turns and goes a longer + distance towards her home, so that it is late when he reaches his own. Is + he late? He did n't know he was late; he came straight home when school + was dismissed, only going a little way home with Alice Linton to help her + carry her books. In a box in his chamber, which he has lately put a + padlock on, among fishhooks and lines and baitboxes, odd pieces of brass, + twine, early sweet apples, pop-corn, beechnuts, and other articles of + value, are some little billets-doux, fancifully folded, three-cornered or + otherwise, and written, I will warrant, in red or beautifully blue ink. + These little notes are parting gifts at the close of school, and John, no + doubt, gave his own in exchange for them, though the writing was an + immense labor, and the folding was a secret bought of another boy for a + big piece of sweet flag-root baked in sugar, a delicacy which John used to + carry in his pantaloons-pocket until his pocket was in such a state that + putting his fingers into it was about as good as dipping them into the + sugar-bowl at home. Each precious note contained a lock or curl of girl's + hair,—a rare collection of all colors, after John had been in school + many terms, and had passed through a great many parting scenes,—black, + brown, red, tow-color, and some that looked like spun gold and felt like + silk. The sentiment contained in the notes was that which was common in + the school, and expressed a melancholy foreboding of early death, and a + touching desire to leave hair enough this side the grave to constitute a + sort of strand of remembrance. With little variation, the poetry that made + the hair precious was in the words, and, as a Cockney would say, set to + the hair, following: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “This lock of hair, + Which I did wear, + Was taken from my head; + When this you see, + Remember me, + Long after I am dead.” + </pre> + <p> + John liked to read these verses, which always made a new and fresh + impression with each lock of hair, and he was not critical; they were for + him vehicles of true sentiment, and indeed they were what he used when he + inclosed a clip of his own sandy hair to a friend. And it did not occur to + him until he was a great deal older and less innocent, to smile at them. + John felt that he would sacredly keep every lock of hair intrusted to him, + though death should come on the wings of cholera and take away every one + of these sad, red-ink correspondents. When John's big brother one day + caught sight of these treasures, and brutally told him that he “had hair + enough to stuff a horse-collar,” John was so outraged and shocked, as he + should have been, at this rude invasion of his heart, this coarse + suggestion, this profanation of his most delicate feeling, that he was + kept from crying only by the resolution to “lick” his brother as soon as + ever he got big enough. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE COMING OF THANKSGIVING + </h2> + <p> + One of the best things in farming is gathering the chestnuts, + hickory-nuts, butternuts, and even beechnuts, in the late fall, after the + frosts have cracked the husks and the high winds have shaken them, and the + colored leaves have strewn the ground. On a bright October day, when the + air is full of golden sunshine, there is nothing quite so exhilarating as + going nutting. Nor is the pleasure of it altogether destroyed for the boy + by the consideration that he is making himself useful in obtaining + supplies for the winter household. The getting-in of potatoes and corn is + a different thing; that is the prose, but nutting is the poetry, of farm + life. I am not sure but the boy would find it very irksome, though, if he + were obliged to work at nut-gathering in order to procure food for the + family. He is willing to make himself useful in his own way. The Italian + boy, who works day after day at a huge pile of pine-cones, pounding and + cracking them and taking out the long seeds, which are sold and eaten as + we eat nuts (and which are almost as good as pumpkin-seeds, another + favorite with the Italians), probably does not see the fun of nutting. + Indeed, if the farmer-boy here were set at pounding off the walnut-shucks + and opening the prickly chestnut-burs as a task, he would think himself an + ill-used boy. What a hardship the prickles in his fingers would be! But + now he digs them out with his jack-knife, and enjoys the process, on the + whole. The boy is willing to do any amount of work if it is called play. + </p> + <p> + In nutting, the squirrel is not more nimble and industrious than the boy. + I like to see a crowd of boys swarm over a chestnut-grove; they leave a + desert behind them like the seventeen-year locusts. To climb a tree and + shake it, to club it, to strip it of its fruit, and pass to the next, is + the sport of a brief time. I have seen a legion of boys scamper over our + grass-plot under the chestnut-trees, each one as active as if he were a + new patent picking-machine, sweeping the ground clean of nuts, and + disappear over the hill before I could go to the door and speak to them + about it. Indeed, I have noticed that boys don't care much for + conversation with the owners of fruit-trees. They could speedily make + their fortunes if they would work as rapidly in cotton-fields. I have + never seen anything like it, except a flock of turkeys removing the + grasshoppers from a piece of pasture. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0101}.jpg" alt="{0101}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0101}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Perhaps it is not generally known that we get the idea of some of our best + military maneuvers from the turkey. The deploying of the skirmish-line in + advance of an army is one of them. The drum-major of our holiday militia + companies is copied exactly from the turkey gobbler; he has the same + splendid appearance, the same proud step, and the same martial aspect. The + gobbler does not lead his forces in the field, but goes behind them, like + the colonel of a regiment, so that he can see every part of the line and + direct its movements. This resemblance is one of the most singular things + in natural history. I like to watch the gobbler maneuvering his forces in + a grasshopper-field. He throws out his company of two dozen turkeys in a + crescent-shaped skirmish-line, the number disposed at equal distances, + while he walks majestically in the rear. They advance rapidly, picking + right and left, with military precision, killing the foe and disposing of + the dead bodies with the same peck. Nobody has yet discovered how many + grasshoppers a turkey will hold; but he is very much like a boy at a + Thanksgiving dinner,—he keeps on eating as long as the supplies + last. The gobbler, in one of these raids, does not condescend to grab a + single grasshopper,—at least, not while anybody is watching him. But + I suppose he makes up for it when his dignity cannot be injured by having + spectators of his voracity; perhaps he falls upon the grasshoppers when + they are driven into a corner of the field. But he is only fattening + himself for destruction; like all greedy persons, he comes to a bad end. + And if the turkeys had any Sunday-school, they would be taught this. + </p> + <p> + The New England boy used to look forward to Thanksgiving as the great + event of the year. He was apt to get stents set him,—so much corn to + husk, for instance, before that day, so that he could have an extra + play-spell; and in order to gain a day or two, he would work at his task + with the rapidity of half a dozen boys. He always had the day after + Thanksgiving as a holiday, and this was the day he counted on. + Thanksgiving itself was rather an awful festival,—very much like + Sunday, except for the enormous dinner, which filled his imagination for + months before as completely as it did his stomach for that day and a week + after. There was an impression in the house that that dinner was the most + important event since the landing from the Mayflower. Heliogabalus, who + did not resemble a Pilgrim Father at all, but who had prepared for himself + in his day some very sumptuous banquets in Rome, and ate a great deal of + the best he could get (and liked peacocks stuffed with asafetida, for one + thing), never had anything like a Thanksgiving dinner; for do you suppose + that he, or Sardanapalus either, ever had twenty-four different kinds of + pie at one dinner? Therein many a New England boy is greater than the + Roman emperor or the Assyrian king, and these were among the most + luxurious eaters of their day and generation. But something more is + necessary to make good men than plenty to eat, as Heliogabalus no doubt + found when his head was cut off. Cutting off the head was a mode the + people had of expressing disapproval of their conspicuous men. Nowadays + they elect them to a higher office, or give them a mission to some foreign + country, if they do not do well where they are. + </p> + <p> + For days and days before Thanksgiving the boy was kept at work evenings, + pounding and paring and cutting up and mixing (not being allowed to taste + much), until the world seemed to him to be made of fragrant spices, green + fruit, raisins, and pastry,—a world that he was only yet allowed to + enjoy through his nose. How filled the house was with the most delicious + smells! The mince-pies that were made! If John had been shut in solid + walls with them piled about him, he could n't have eaten his way out in + four weeks. There were dainties enough cooked in those two weeks to have + made the entire year luscious with good living, if they had been scattered + along in it. But people were probably all the better for scrimping + themselves a little in order to make this a great feast. And it was not by + any means over in a day. There were weeks deep of chicken-pie and other + pastry. The cold buttery was a cave of Aladdin, and it took a long time to + excavate all its riches. + </p> + <p> + Thanksgiving Day itself was a heavy dav, the hilarity of it being so + subdued by going to meeting, and the universal wearing of the Sunday + clothes, that the boy could n't see it. But if he felt little + exhilaration, he ate a great deal. The next day was the real holiday. Then + were the merry-making parties, and perhaps the skatings and sleigh-rides, + for the freezing weather came before the governor's proclamation in many + parts of New England. The night after Thanksgiving occurred, perhaps, the + first real party that the boy had ever attended, with live girls in it, + dressed so bewitchingly. And there he heard those philandering songs, and + played those sweet games of forfeits, which put him quite beside himself, + and kept him awake that night till the rooster crowed at the end of his + first chicken-nap. What a new world did that party open to him! I think it + likely that he saw there, and probably did not dare say ten words to, some + tall, graceful girl, much older than himself, who seemed to him like a new + order of being. He could see her face just as plainly in the darkness of + his chamber. He wondered if she noticed how awkward he was, and how short + his trousers-legs were. He blushed as he thought of his rather ill-fitting + shoes; and determined, then and there, that he wouldn't be put off with a + ribbon any longer, but would have a young man's necktie. It was somewhat + painful, thinking the party over, but it was delicious, too. He did not + think, probably, that he would die for that tall, handsome girl; he did + not put it exactly in that way. But he rather resolved to live for her, + which might in the end amount to the same thing. At least, he thought that + nobody would live to speak twice disrespectfully of her in his presence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. THE SEASON OF PUMPKIN-PIE + </h2> + <p> + What John said was, that he did n't care much for pumpkin-pie; but that + was after he had eaten a whole one. It seemed to him then that mince would + be better. + </p> + <p> + The feeling of a boy towards pumpkin-pie has never been properly + considered. There is an air of festivity about its approach in the fall. + The boy is willing to help pare and cut up the pumpkin, and he watches + with the greatest interest the stirring-up process and the pouring into + the scalloped crust. When the sweet savor of the baking reaches his + nostrils, he is filled with the most delightful anticipations. Why should + he not be? He knows that for months to come the buttery will contain + golden treasures, and that it will require only a slight ingenuity to get + at them. + </p> + <p> + The fact is, that the boy is as good in the buttery as in any part of + farming. His elders say that the boy is always hungry; but that is a very + coarse way to put it. He has only recently come into a world that is full + of good things to eat, and there is, on the whole, a very short time in + which to eat them; at least, he is told, among the first information he + receives, that life is short. Life being brief, and pie and the like + fleeting, he very soon decides upon an active campaign. It may be an old + story to people who have been eating for forty or fifty years, but it is + different with a beginner. He takes the thick and thin as it comes, as to + pie, for instance. Some people do make them very thin. I knew a place + where they were not thicker than the poor man's plaster; they were spread + so thin upon the crust that they were better fitted to draw out hunger + than to satisfy it. They used to be made up by the great oven-full and + kept in the dry cellar, where they hardened and dried to a toughness you + would hardly believe. This was a long time ago, and they make the + pumpkin-pie in the country better now, or the race of boys would have been + so discouraged that I think they would have stopped coming into the world. + </p> + <p> + The truth is, that boys have always been so plenty that they are not half + appreciated. We have shown that a farm could not get along without them, + and yet their rights are seldom recognized. One of the most amusing things + is their effort to acquire personal property. The boy has the care of the + calves; they always need feeding, or shutting up, or letting out; when the + boy wants to play, there are those calves to be looked after,—until + he gets to hate the name of calf. But in consideration of his + faithfulness, two of them are given to him. There is no doubt that they + are his: he has the entire charge of them. When they get to be steers he + spends all his holidays in breaking them in to a yoke. He gets them so + broken in that they will run like a pair of deer all over the farm, + turning the yoke, and kicking their heels, while he follows in full chase, + shouting the ox language till he is red in the face. When the steers grow + up to be cattle, a drover one day comes along and takes them away, and the + boy is told that he can have another pair of calves; and so, with + undiminished faith, he goes back and begins over again to make his + fortune. He owns lambs and young colts in the same way, and makes just as + much out of them. + </p> + <p> + There are ways in which the farmer-boy can earn money, as by gathering the + early chestnuts and taking them to the corner store, or by finding + turkeys' eggs and selling them to his mother; and another way is to go + without butter at the table—but the money thus made is for the + heathen. John read in Dr. Livingstone that some of the tribes in Central + Africa (which is represented by a blank spot in the atlas) use the butter + to grease their hair, putting on pounds of it at a time; and he said he + had rather eat his butter than have it put to that use, especially as it + melted away so fast in that hot climate. + </p> + <p> + Of course it was explained to John that the missionaries do not actually + carry butter to Africa, and that they must usually go without it + themselves there, it being almost impossible to make it good from the milk + in the cocoanuts. And it was further explained to him that even if the + heathen never received his butter or the money for it, it was an excellent + thing for a boy to cultivate the habit of self-denial and of benevolence, + and if the heathen never heard of him, he would be blessed for his + generosity. This was all true. + </p> + <p> + But John said that he was tired of supporting the heathen out of his + butter, and he wished the rest of the family would also stop eating butter + and save the money for missions; and he wanted to know where the other + members of the family got their money to send to the heathen; and his + mother said that he was about half right, and that self-denial was just as + good for grown people as it was for little boys and girls. + </p> + <p> + The boy is not always slow to take what he considers his rights. Speaking + of those thin pumpkin-pies kept in the cellar cupboard. I used to know a + boy, who afterwards grew to be a selectman, and brushed his hair straight + up like General Jackson, and went to the legislature, where he always + voted against every measure that was proposed, in the most honest manner, + and got the reputation of being the “watch-dog of the treasury.” Rats in + the cellar were nothing to be compared to this boy for destructiveness in + pies. He used to go down whenever he could make an excuse, to get apples + for the family, or draw a mug of cider for his dear old grandfather (who + was a famous story-teller about the Revolutionary War, and would no doubt + have been wounded in battle if he had not been as prudent as he was + patriotic), and come upstairs with a tallow candle in one hand and the + apples or cider in the other, looking as innocent and as unconscious as if + he had never done anything in his life except deny himself butter for the + sake of the heathen. And yet this boy would have buttoned under his jacket + an entire round pumpkin-pie. And the pie was so well made and so dry that + it was not injured in the least, and it never hurt the boy's clothes a bit + more than if it had been inside of him instead of outside; and this boy + would retire to a secluded place and eat it with another boy, being never + suspected because he was not in the cellar long enough to eat a pie, and + he never appeared to have one about him. But he did something worse than + this. When his mother saw that pie after pie departed, she told the family + that she suspected the hired man; and the boy never said a word, which was + the meanest kind of lying. That hired man was probably regarded with + suspicion by the family to the end of his days, and if he had been accused + of robbing, they would have believed him guilty. + </p> + <p> + I shouldn't wonder if that selectman occasionally has remorse now about + that pie; dreams, perhaps, that it is buttoned up under his jacket and + sticking to him like a breastplate; that it lies upon his stomach like a + round and red-hot nightmare, eating into his vitals. Perhaps not. It is + difficult to say exactly what was the sin of stealing that kind of pie, + especially if the one who stole it ate it. It could have been used for the + game of pitching quoits, and a pair of them would have made very fair + wheels for the dog-cart. And yet it is probably as wrong to steal a thin + pie as a thick one; and it made no difference because it was easy to steal + this sort. Easy stealing is no better than easy lying, where detection of + the lie is difficult. The boy who steals his mother's pies has no right to + be surprised when some other boy steals his watermelons. Stealing is like + charity in one respect,—it is apt to begin at home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. FIRST EXPERIENCE OF THE WORLD + </h2> + <p> + If I were forced to be a boy, and a boy in the country,—the best + kind of boy to be in the summer,—I would be about ten years of age. + As soon as I got any older, I would quit it. The trouble with a boy is, + that just as he begins to enjoy himself he is too old, and has to be set + to doing something else. If a country boy were wise, he would stay at just + that age when he could enjoy himself most, and have the least expected of + him in the way of work. + </p> + <p> + Of course the perfectly good boy will always prefer to work and to do + “chores” for his father and errands for his mother and sisters, rather + than enjoy himself in his own way. I never saw but one such boy. He lived + in the town of Goshen,—not the place where the butter is made, but a + much better Goshen than that. And I never saw him, but I heard of him; and + being about the same age, as I supposed, I was taken once from Zoah, where + I lived, to Goshen to see him. But he was dead. He had been dead almost a + year, so that it was impossible to see him. He died of the most singular + disease: it was from not eating green apples in the season of them. This + boy, whose name was Solomon, before he died, would rather split up + kindling-wood for his mother than go a-fishing,—the consequence was, + that he was kept at splitting kindling-wood and such work most of the + time, and grew a better and more useful boy day by day. + +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0119}.jpg" alt="{0119}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0119}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> + +Solomon would not + disobey his parents and eat green apples,—not even when they were + ripe enough to knock off with a stick, but he had such a longing for them, + that he pined, and passed away. If he had eaten the green apples, he would + have died of them, probably; so that his example is a difficult one to + follow. In fact, a boy is a hard subject to get a moral from. All his + little playmates who ate green apples came to Solomon's funeral, and were + very sorry for what they had done. + </p> + + + + <p> + John was a very different boy from Solomon, not half so good, nor half so + dead. He was a farmer's boy, as Solomon was, but he did not take so much + interest in the farm. If John could have had his way, he would have + discovered a cave full of diamonds, and lots of nail-kegs full of + gold-pieces and Spanish dollars, with a pretty little girl living in the + cave, and two beautifully caparisoned horses, upon which, taking the + jewels and money, they would have ridden off together, he did not know + where. John had got thus far in his studies, which were apparently + arithmetic and geography, but were in reality the Arabian Nights, and + other books of high and mighty adventure. He was a simple country-boy, and + did not know much about the world as it is, but he had one of his own + imagination, in which he lived a good deal. I daresay he found out soon + enough what the world is, and he had a lesson or two when he was quite + young, in two incidents, which I may as well relate. + </p> + <p> + If you had seen John at this time, you might have thought he was only a + shabbily dressed country lad, and you never would have guessed what + beautiful thoughts he sometimes had as he went stubbing his toes along the + dusty road, nor what a chivalrous little fellow he was. You would have + seen a short boy, barefooted, with trousers at once too big and too short, + held up perhaps by one suspender only, a checked cotton shirt, and a hat + of braided palm-leaf, frayed at the edges and bulged up in the crown. It + is impossible to keep a hat neat if you use it to catch bumblebees and + whisk 'em; to bail the water from a leaky boat; to catch minnows in; to + put over honey-bees' nests, and to transport pebbles, strawberries, and + hens' eggs. John usually carried a sling in his hand, or a bow, or a + limber stick, sharp at one end, from which he could sling apples a great + distance. If he walked in the road, he walked in the middle of it, + shuffling up the dust; or if he went elsewhere, he was likely to be + running on the top of the fence or the stone wall, and chasing chipmunks. + </p> + <p> + John knew the best place to dig sweet-flag in all the farm; it was in a + meadow by the river, where the bobolinks sang so gayly. He never liked to + hear the bobolink sing, however, for he said it always reminded him of the + whetting of a scythe, and that reminded him of spreading hay; and if there + was anything he hated, it was spreading hay after the mowers. “I guess you + would n't like it yourself,” said John, “with the stubbs getting into your + feet, and the hot sun, and the men getting ahead of you, all you could + do.” + </p> + <p> + Towards evening, once, John was coming along the road home with some + stalks of the sweet-flag in his hand; there is a succulent pith in the end + of the stalk which is very good to eat,—tender, and not so strong as + the root; and John liked to pull it, and carry home what he did not eat on + the way. As he was walking along he met a carriage, which stopped opposite + to him; he also stopped and bowed, as country boys used to bow in John's + day. A lady leaned from the carriage, and said: + </p> + <p> + “What have you got, little boy?” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to be the most beautiful woman John had ever seen; with light + hair, dark, tender eyes, and the sweetest smile. There was that in her + gracious mien and in her dress which reminded John of the beautiful castle + ladies, with whom he was well acquainted in books. He felt that he knew + her at once, and he also seemed to be a sort of young prince himself. I + fancy he did n't look much like one. But of his own appearance he thought + not at all, as he replied to the lady's question, without the least + embarrassment: + </p> + <p> + “It's sweet-flag stalk; would you like some?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I should like to taste it,” said the lady, with a most winning + smile. “I used to be very fond of it when I was a little girl.” + </p> + <p> + John was delighted that the lady should like sweet-flag, and that she was + pleased to accept it from him. He thought himself that it was about the + best thing to eat he knew. He handed up a large bunch of it. The lady took + two or three stalks, and was about to return the rest, when John said: + </p> + <p> + “Please keep it all, ma'am. I can get lots more.” + </p> + <p> + “I know where it's ever so thick.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, thank you,” said the lady; and as the carriage started, she + reached out her hand to John. He did not understand the motion, until he + saw a cent drop in the road at his feet. Instantly all his illusion and + his pleasure vanished. Something like tears were in his eyes as he + shouted: + </p> + <p> + “I don't want your cent. I don't sell flag!” + </p> + <p> + John was intensely mortified. “I suppose,” he said, “she thought I was a + sort of beggar-boy. To think of selling flag!” + </p> + <p> + At any rate, he walked away and left the cent in the road, a humiliated + boy. The next day he told Jim Gates about it. Jim said he was green not to + take the money; he'd go and look for it now, if he would tell him about + where it dropped. And Jim did spend an hour poking about in the dirt, but + he did not find the cent. Jim, however, had an idea; he said he was going + to dig sweet-flag, and see if another carriage wouldn't come along. + </p> + <p> + John's next rebuff and knowledge of the world was of another sort. He was + again walking the road at twilight, when he was overtaken by a wagon with + one seat, upon which were two pretty girls, and a young gentleman sat + between them, driving. It was a merry party, and John could hear them + laughing and singing as they approached him. The wagon stopped when it + overtook him, and one of the sweet-faced girls leaned from the seat and + said, quite seriously and pleasantly: + </p> + <p> + “Little boy, how's your mar?” + </p> + <p> + John was surprised and puzzled for a moment. He had never seen the young + lady, but he thought that she perhaps knew his mother; at any rate, his + instinct of politeness made him say: + </p> + <p> + “She's pretty well, I thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she know you are out?” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon all three in the wagon burst into a roar of laughter, and + dashed on. + </p> + <p> + It flashed upon John in a moment that he had been imposed on, and it hurt + him dreadfully. His self-respect was injured somehow, and he felt as if + his lovely, gentle mother had been insulted. He would like to have thrown + a stone at the wagon, and in a rage he cried: + </p> + <p> + “You're a nice....” but he could n't think of any hard, bitter words quick + enough. + </p> + <p> + Probably the young lady, who might have been almost any young lady, never + knew what a cruel thing she had done. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. HOME INVENTIONS + </h2> + <p> + The winter season is not all sliding downhill for the farmer-boy, by any + means; yet he contrives to get as much fun out of it as from any part of + the year. There is a difference in boys: some are always jolly, and some + go scowling always through life as if they had a stone-bruise on each + heel. I like a jolly boy. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0129}.jpg" alt="{0129}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0129}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + I used to know one who came round every morning to sell molasses candy, + offering two sticks for a cent apiece; it was worth fifty cents a day to + see his cheery face. That boy rose in the world. He is now the owner of a + large town at the West. To be sure, there are no houses in it except his + own; but there is a map of it, and roads and streets are laid out on it, + with dwellings and churches and academies and a college and an + opera-house, and you could scarcely tell it from Springfield or Hartford,—on + paper. He and all his family have the fever and ague, and shake worse than + the people at Lebanon; but they do not mind it; it makes them lively, in + fact. Ed May is just as jolly as he used to be. He calls his town + Mayopolis, and expects to be mayor of it; his wife, however, calls the + town Maybe. + </p> + <p> + The farmer-boy likes to have winter come for one thing, because it freezes + up the ground so that he can't dig in it; and it is covered with snow so + that there is no picking up stones, nor driving the cows to pasture. He + would have a very easy time if it were not for the getting up before + daylight to build the fires and do the “chores.” Nature intended the long + winter nights for the farmer-boy to sleep; but in my day he was expected + to open his sleepy eyes when the cock crew, get out of the warm bed and + light a candle, struggle into his cold pantaloons, and pull on boots in + which the thermometer would have gone down to zero, rake open the coals on + the hearth and start the morning fire, and then go to the barn to + “fodder.” The frost was thick on the kitchen windows, the snow was drifted + against the door, and the journey to the barn, in the pale light of dawn, + over the creaking snow, was like an exile's trip to Siberia. The boy was + not half awake when he stumbled into the cold barn, and was greeted by the + lowing and bleating and neighing of cattle waiting for their breakfast. + How their breath steamed up from the mangers, and hung in frosty spears + from their noses. Through the great lofts above the hay, where the + swallows nested, the winter wind whistled, and the snow sifted. Those old + barns were well ventilated. + </p> + <p> + I used to spend much valuable time in planning a barn that should be tight + and warm, with a fire in it, if necessary, in order to keep the + temperature somewhere near the freezing-point. I could n't see how the + cattle could live in a place where a lively boy, full of young blood, + would freeze to death in a short time if he did not swing his arms and + slap his hands, and jump about like a goat. I thought I would have a sort + of perpetual manger that should shake down the hay when it was wanted, and + a self-acting machine that should cut up the turnips and pass them into + the mangers, and water always flowing for the cattle and horses to drink. + With these simple arrangements I could lie in bed, and know that the + “chores” were doing themselves. It would also be necessary, in order that + I should not be disturbed, that the crow should be taken out of the + roosters, but I could think of no process to do it. It seems to me that + the hen-breeders, if they know as much as they say they do, might raise a + breed of crowless roosters for the benefit of boys, quiet neighborhoods, + and sleepy families. + </p> + <p> + There was another notion that I had about kindling the kitchen fire, that + I never carried out. It was to have a spring at the head of my bed, + connecting with a wire, which should run to a torpedo which I would plant + over night in the ashes of the fireplace. By touching the spring I could + explode the torpedo, which would scatter the ashes and cover the live + coals, and at the same time shake down the sticks of wood which were + standing by the side of the ashes in the chimney, and the fire would + kindle itself. This ingenious plan was frowned on by the whole family, who + said they did not want to be waked up every morning by an explosion. And + yet they expected me to wake up without an explosion! A boy's plans for + making life agreeable are hardly ever heeded. + </p> + <p> + I never knew a boy farmer who was not eager to go to the district school + in the winter. There is such a chance for learning, that he must be a dull + boy who does not come out in the spring a fair skater, an accurate + snow-baller, and an accomplished slider-down-hill, with or without a + board, on his seat, on his stomach, or on his feet. Take a moderate hill, + with a foot-slide down it worn to icy smoothness, and a “go-round” of boys + on it, and there is nothing like it for whittling away boot-leather. The + boy is the shoemaker's friend. An active lad can wear down a pair of + cowhide soles in a week so that the ice will scrape his toes. Sledding or + coasting is also slow fun compared to the “bareback” sliding down a steep + hill over a hard, glistening crust. It is not only dangerous, but it is + destructive to jacket and pantaloons to a degree to make a tailor laugh. + If any other animal wore out his skin as fast as a schoolboy wears out his + clothes in winter, it would need a new one once a month. In a country + district-school patches were not by any means a sign of poverty, but of + the boy's courage and adventurous disposition. Our elders used to threaten + to dress us in leather and put sheet-iron seats in our trousers. The boy + said that he wore out his trousers on the hard seats in the schoolhouse + ciphering hard sums. For that extraordinary statement he received two + castigations,—one at home, that was mild, and one from the + schoolmaster, who was careful to lay the rod upon the boy's sliding-place, + punishing him, as he jocosely called it, on a sliding scale, according to + the thinness of his pantaloons. + </p> + <p> + What I liked best at school, however, was the study of history,—early + history,—the Indian wars. We studied it mostly at noontime, and we + had it illustrated as the children nowadays have “object-lessons,” though + our object was not so much to have lessons as it was to revive real + history. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0137}.jpg" alt="{0137}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0137}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Back of the schoolhouse rose a round hill, upon which, tradition said, had + stood in colonial times a block-house, built by the settlers for defense + against the Indians. For the Indians had the idea that the whites were not + settled enough, and used to come nights to settle—them with a + tomahawk. It was called Fort Hill. It was very steep on each side, and the + river ran close by. It was a charming place in summer, where one could + find laurel, and checkerberries, and sassafras roots, and sit in the cool + breeze, looking at the mountains across the river, and listening to the + murmur of the Deerfield. The Methodists built a meeting-house there + afterwards, but the hill was so slippery in winter that the aged could not + climb it and the wind raged so fiercely that it blew nearly all the young + Methodists away (many of whom were afterwards heard of in the West), and + finally the meeting-house itself came down into the valley, and grew a + steeple, and enjoyed itself ever afterwards. It used to be a notion in New + England that a meeting-house ought to stand as near heaven as possible. + </p> + <p> + The boys at our school divided themselves into two parties: one was the + Early Settlers and the other the Pequots, the latter the most numerous. + The Early Settlers built a snow fort on the hill, and a strong fortress it + was, constructed of snowballs, rolled up to a vast size (larger than the + cyclopean blocks of stone which form the ancient Etruscan walls in Italy), + piled one upon another, and the whole cemented by pouring on water which + froze and made the walls solid. The Pequots helped the whites build it. It + had a covered way under the snow, through which only could it be entered, + and it had bastions and towers and openings to fire from, and a great many + other things for which there are no names in military books. And it had a + glacis and a ditch outside. + </p> + <p> + When it was completed, the Early Settlers, leaving the women in the + schoolhouse, a prey to the Indians, used to retire into it, and await the + attack of the Pequots. There was only a handful of the garrison, while the + Indians were many, and also barbarous. It was agreed that they should be + barbarous. And it was in this light that the great question was settled + whether a boy might snowball with balls that he had soaked over night in + water and let freeze. They were as hard as cobble-stones, and if a boy + should be hit in the head by one of them, he could not tell whether he was + a Pequot or an Early Settler. It was considered as unfair to use these + ice-balls in open fight, as it is to use poisoned ammunition in real war. + But as the whites were protected by the fort, and the Indians were + treacherous by nature, it was decided that the latter might use the hard + missiles. + </p> + <p> + The Pequots used to come swarming up the hill, with hideous war-whoops, + attacking the fort on all sides with great noise and a shower of balls. + The garrison replied with yells of defiance and well-directed shots, + hurling back the invaders when they attempted to scale the walls. The + Settlers had the advantage of position, but they were sometimes + overpowered by numbers, and would often have had to surrender but for the + ringing of the school-bell. The Pequots were in great fear of the + school-bell. + </p> + <p> + I do not remember that the whites ever hauled down their flag and + surrendered voluntarily; but once or twice the fort was carried by storm + and the garrison were massacred to a boy, and thrown out of the fortress, + having been first scalped. To take a boy's cap was to scalp him, and after + that he was dead, if he played fair. There were a great many hard hits + given and taken, but always cheerfully, for it was in the cause of our + early history. The history of Greece and Rome was stuff compared to this. + And we had many boys in our school who could imitate the Indian war whoop + enough better than they could scan arma, virumque cano. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. THE LONELY FARMHOUSE + </h2> + <p> + The winter evenings of the farmer-boy in New England used not to be so gay + as to tire him of the pleasures of life before he became of age. A remote + farmhouse, standing a little off the road, banked up with sawdust and + earth to keep the frost out of the cellar, blockaded with snow, and flying + a blue flag of smoke from its chimney, looks like a besieged fort. On cold + and stormy winter nights, to the traveler wearily dragging along in his + creaking sleigh, the light from its windows suggests a house of refuge and + the cheer of a blazing fire. But it is no less a fort, into which the + family retire when the New England winter on the hills really sets in. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0143}.jpg" alt="{0143}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0143}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + The boy is an important part of the garrison. He is not only one of the + best means of communicating with the outer world, but he furnishes half + the entertainment and takes two thirds of the scolding of the family + circle. A farm would come to grief without a boy-on it, but it is + impossible to think of a farmhouse without a boy in it. + </p> + <p> + “That boy” brings life into the house; his tracks are to be seen + everywhere; he leaves all the doors open; he has n't half filled the + wood-box; he makes noise enough to wake the dead; or he is in a + brown-study by the fire and cannot be stirred, or he has fastened a grip + into some Crusoe book which cannot easily be shaken off. I suppose that + the farmer-boy's evenings are not now what they used to be; that he has + more books, and less to do, and is not half so good a boy as formerly, + when he used to think the almanac was pretty lively reading, and the comic + almanac, if he could get hold of that, was a supreme delight. + </p> + <p> + Of course he had the evenings to himself, after he had done the “chores” + at the barn, brought in the wood and piled it high in the box, ready to be + heaped upon the great open fire. It was nearly dark when he came from + school (with its continuation of snowballing and sliding), and he always + had an agreeable time stumbling and fumbling around in barn and + wood-house, in the waning light. + </p> + <p> + John used to say that he supposed nobody would do his “chores” if he did + not get home till midnight; and he was never contradicted. Whatever + happened to him, and whatever length of days or sort of weather was + produced by the almanac, the cardinal rule was that he should be at home + before dark. + </p> + <p> + John used to imagine what people did in the dark ages, and wonder + sometimes whether he was n't still in them. + </p> + <p> + Of course, John had nothing to do all the evening, after his “chores,”—except + little things. While he drew his chair up to the table in order to get the + full radiance of the tallow candle on his slate or his book, the women of + the house also sat by the table knitting and sewing. The head of the house + sat in his chair, tipped back against the chimney; the hired man was in + danger of burning his boots in the fire. John might be deep in the + excitement of a bear story, or be hard at writing a “composition” on his + greasy slate; but whatever he was doing, he was the only one who could + always be interrupted. It was he who must snuff the candles, and put on a + stick of wood, and toast the cheese, and turn the apples, and crack the + nuts. He knew where the fox-and-geese board was, and he could find the + twelve-men-Morris. Considering that he was expected to go to bed at eight + o'clock, one would say that the opportunity for study was not great, and + that his reading was rather interrupted. There seemed to be always + something for him to do, even when all the rest of the family came as near + being idle as is ever possible in a New England household. + </p> + <p> + No wonder that John was not sleepy at eight o'clock; he had been flying + about while the others had been yawning before the fire. He would like to + sit up just to see how much more solemn and stupid it would become as the + night went on; he wanted to tinker his skates, to mend his sled, to finish + that chapter. Why should he go away from that bright blaze, and the + company that sat in its radiance, to the cold and solitude of his chamber? + Why did n't the people who were sleepy go to bed? + </p> + <p> + How lonesome the old house was; how cold it was, away from that great + central fire in the heart of it; how its timbers creaked as if in the + contracting pinch of the frost; what a rattling there was of windows, what + a concerted attack upon the clapboards; how the floors squeaked, and what + gusts from round corners came to snatch the feeble flame of the candle + from the boy's hand. How he shivered, as he paused at the staircase window + to look out upon the great fields of snow, upon the stripped forest, + through which he could hear the wind raving in a kind of fury, and up at + the black flying clouds, amid which the young moon was dashing and driven + on like a frail shallop at sea. And his teeth chattered more than ever + when he got into the icy sheets, and drew himself up into a ball in his + flannel nightgown, like a fox in his hole. + </p> + <p> + For a little time he could hear the noises downstairs, and an occasional + laugh; he could guess that now they were having cider, and now apples were + going round; and he could feel the wind tugging at the house, even + sometimes shaking the bed. But this did not last long. He soon went away + into a country he always delighted to be in: a calm place where the wind + never blew, and no one dictated the time of going to bed to any one else. + I like to think of him sleeping there, in such rude surroundings, + ingenious, innocent, mischievous, with no thought of the buffeting he is + to get from a world that has a good many worse places for a boy than the + hearth of an old farmhouse, and the sweet, though undemonstrative, + affection of its family life. + </p> + <p> + But there were other evenings in the boy's life, that were different from + these at home, and one of them he will never forget. It opened a new world + to John, and set him into a great flutter. It produced a revolution in his + mind in regard to neckties; it made him wonder if greased boots were quite + the thing compared with blacked boots; and he wished he had a long + looking-glass, so that he could see, as he walked away from it, what was + the effect of round patches on the portion of his trousers he could not + see, except in a mirror; and if patches were quite stylish, even on + everyday trousers. And he began to be very much troubled about the parting + of his hair, and how to find out on which side was the natural part. + </p> + <p> + The evening to which I refer was that of John's first party. He knew the + girls at school, and he was interested in some of them with a different + interest from that he took in the boys. He never wanted to “take it out” + with one of them, for an insult, in a stand-up fight, and he instinctively + softened a boy's natural rudeness when he was with them. He would help a + timid little girl to stand erect and slide; he would draw her on his sled, + till his hands were stiff with cold, without a murmur; he would generously + give her red apples into which he longed to set his own sharp teeth; and + he would cut in two his lead-pencil for a girl, when he would not for a + boy. Had he not some of the beautiful auburn tresses of Cynthia Rudd in + his skate, spruce-gum, and wintergreen box at home? And yet the grand + sentiment of life was little awakened in John. He liked best to be with + boys, and their rough play suited him better than the amusements of the + shrinking, fluttering, timid, and sensitive little girls. John had not + learned then that a spider-web is stronger than a cable; or that a pretty + little girl could turn him round her finger a great deal easier than a big + bully of a boy could make him cry “enough.” + </p> + <p> + John had indeed been at spelling-schools, and had accomplished the feat of + “going home with a girl” afterwards; and he had been growing into the + habit of looking around in meeting on Sunday, and noticing how Cynthia was + dressed, and not enjoying the service quite as much if Cynthia was absent + as when she was present. But there was very little sentiment in all this, + and nothing whatever to make John blush at hearing her name. + </p> + <p> + But now John was invited to a regular party. There was the invitation, in + a three-cornered billet, sealed with a transparent wafer: “Miss C. Rudd + requests the pleasure of the company of,” etc., all in blue ink, and the + finest kind of pin-scratching writing. What a precious document it was to + John! It even exhaled a faint sort of perfume, whether of lavender or + caraway-seed he could not tell. He read it over a hundred times, and + showed it confidentially to his favorite cousin, who had beaux of her own + and had even “sat up” with them in the parlor. And from this sympathetic + cousin John got advice as to what he should wear and how he should conduct + himself at the party. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. JOHN'S FIRST PARTY + </h2> + <p> + It turned out that John did not go after all to Cynthia Rudd's party, + having broken through the ice on the river when he was skating that day, + and, as the boy who pulled him out said, “come within an inch of his + life.” But he took care not to tumble into anything that should keep him + from the next party, which was given with due formality by Melinda Mayhew. + </p> + <p> + John had been many a time to the house of Deacon Mayhew, and never with + any hesitation, even if he knew that both the deacon's daughters—Melinda + and Sophronia were at home. The only fear he had felt was of the deacon's + big dog, who always surlily watched him as he came up the tan-bark walk, + and made a rush at him if he showed the least sign of wavering. But upon + the night of the party his courage vanished, and he thought he would + rather face all the dogs in town than knock at the front door. + </p> + <p> + The parlor was lighted up, and as John stood on the broad flagging before + the front door, by the lilac-bush, he could hear the sound of voices—girls' + voices—which set his heart in a flutter. He could face the whole + district school of girls without flinching,—he didn't mind 'em in + the meeting-house in their Sunday best; but he began to be conscious that + now he was passing to a new sphere, where the girls are supreme and + superior, and he began to feel for the first time that he was an awkward + boy. The girl takes to society as naturally as a duckling does to the + placid pond, but with a semblance of shy timidity; the boy plunges in with + a great splash, and hides his shy awkwardness in noise and commotion. + </p> + <p> + When John entered, the company had nearly all come. He knew them every + one, and yet there was something about them strange and unfamiliar. They + were all a little afraid of each other, as people are apt to be when they + are well dressed and met together for social purposes in the country. To + be at a real party was a novel thing for most of them, and put a + constraint upon them which they could not at once overcome. Perhaps it was + because they were in the awful parlor,—that carpeted room of + haircloth furniture, which was so seldom opened. Upon the wall hung two + certificates framed in black,—one certifying that, by the payment of + fifty dollars, Deacon Mayhew was a life member of the American Tract + Society, and the other that, by a like outlay of bread cast upon the + waters, his wife was a life member of the A. B. C. F. M., a portion of the + alphabet which has an awful significance to all New England childhood. + These certificates are a sort of receipt in full for charity, and are a + constant and consoling reminder to the farmer that he has discharged his + religious duties. + </p> + <p> + There was a fire on the broad hearth, and that, with the tallow candles on + the mantelpiece, made quite an illumination in the room, and enabled the + boys, who were mostly on one side of the room, to see the girls, who were + on the other, quite plainly. How sweet and demure the girls looked, to be + sure! Every boy was thinking if his hair was slick, and feeling the full + embarrassment of his entrance into fashionable life. It was queer that + these children, who were so free everywhere else, should be so constrained + now, and not know what to do with themselves. The shooting of a spark out + upon the carpet was a great relief, and was accompanied by a deal of + scrambling to throw it back into the fire, and caused much giggling. It + was only gradually that the formality was at all broken, and the young + people got together and found their tongues. + </p> + <p> + John at length found himself with Cynthia Rudd, to his great delight and + considerable embarrassment, for Cynthia, who was older than John, never + looked so pretty. To his surprise he had nothing to say to her. They had + always found plenty to talk about before—but now nothing that he + could think of seemed worth saying at a party. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pleasant evening,” said John. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite so,” replied Cynthia. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come in a cutter?” asked John anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “No; I walked on the crust, and it was perfectly lovely walking,” said + Cynthia, in a burst of confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Was it slippery?” continued John. + </p> + <p> + “Not very.” + </p> + <p> + John hoped it would be slippery—very—when he walked home with + Cynthia, as he determined to do, but he did not dare to say so, and the + conversation ran aground again. John thought about his dog and his sled + and his yoke of steers, but he didn't see any way to bring them into + conversation. Had she read the “Swiss Family Robinson”? Only a little + ways. John said it was splendid, and he would lend it to her, for which + she thanked him, and said, with such a sweet expression, she should be so + glad to have it from him. That was encouraging. + </p> + <p> + And then John asked Cynthia if she had seen Sally Hawkes since the husking + at their house, when Sally found so many red ears; and didn't she think + she was a real pretty girl. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she was right pretty;” and Cynthia guessed that Sally knew it pretty + well. But did John like the color of her eyes? + </p> + <p> + No; John didn't like the color of her eyes exactly. + </p> + <p> + “Her mouth would be well enough if she did n't laugh so much and show her + teeth.” + </p> + <p> + John said her mouth was her worst feature. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Cynthia warmly; “her mouth is better than her nose.” + </p> + <p> + John did n't know but it was better than her nose, and he should like her + looks better if her hair was n't so dreadful black. + </p> + <p> + But Cynthia, who could afford to be generous now, said she liked black + hair, and she wished hers was dark. Whereupon John protested that he liked + light hair—auburn hair—of all things. + </p> + <p> + And Cynthia said that Sally was a dear, good girl, and she did n't believe + one word of the story that she only really found one red ear at the + husking that night, and hid that and kept pulling it out as if it were a + new one. + </p> + <p> + And so the conversation, once started, went on as briskly as possible + about the paring-bee, and the spelling-school, and the new singing-master + who was coming, and how Jack Thompson had gone to Northampton to be a + clerk in a store, and how Elvira Reddington, in the geography class at + school, was asked what was the capital of Massachusetts, and had answered + “Northampton,” and all the school laughed. John enjoyed the conversation + amazingly, and he half wished that he and Cynthia were the whole of the + party. + </p> + <p> + But the party had meantime got into operation, and the formality was + broken up when the boys and girls had ventured out of the parlor into the + more comfortable living-room, with its easy-chairs and everyday things, + and even gone so far as to penetrate the kitchen in their frolic. As soon + as they forgot they were a party, they began to enjoy themselves. + </p> + <p> + But the real pleasure only began with the games. The party was nothing + without the games, and, indeed, it was made for the games. Very likely it + was one of the timid girls who proposed to play something, and when the + ice was once broken, the whole company went into the business + enthusiastically. There was no dancing. We should hope not. Not in the + deacon's house; not with the deacon's daughters, nor anywhere in this good + Puritanic society. Dancing was a sin in itself, and no one could tell what + it would lead to. But there was no reason why the boys and girls shouldn't + come together and kiss each other during a whole evening occasionally. + Kissing was a sign of peace, and was not at all like taking hold of hands + and skipping about to the scraping of a wicked fiddle. + </p> + <p> + In the games there was a great deal of clasping hands, of going round in a + circle, of passing under each other's elevated arms, of singing about my + true love, and the end was kisses distributed with more or less + partiality, according to the rules of the play; but, thank Heaven, there + was no fiddler. John liked it all, and was quite brave about paying all + the forfeits imposed on him, even to the kissing all the girls in the + room; but he thought he could have amended that by kissing a few of them a + good many times instead of kissing them all once. + </p> + <p> + But John was destined to have a damper put upon his enjoyment. They were + playing a most fascinating game, in which they all stand in a circle and + sing a philandering song, except one who is in the center of the ring, and + holds a cushion. At a certain word in the song, the one in the center + throws the cushion at the feet of some one in the ring, indicating thereby + the choice of a “mate” and then the two sweetly kneel upon the cushion, + like two meek angels, and—and so forth. Then the chosen one takes + the cushion and the delightful play goes on. It is very easy, as it will + be seen, to learn how to play it. Cynthia was holding the cushion, and at + the fatal word she threw it down, not before John, but in front of Ephraim + Leggett. And they two kneeled, and so forth. John was astounded. He had + never conceived of such perfidy in the female heart. He felt like wiping + Ephraim off the face of the earth, only Ephraim was older and bigger than + he. When it came his turn at length,—thanks to a plain little girl + for whose admiration he did n't care a straw,—he threw the cushion + down before Melinda Mayhew with all the devotion he could muster, and a + dagger look at Cynthia. And Cynthia's perfidious smile only enraged him + the more. John felt wronged, and worked himself up to pass a wretched + evening. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0164}.jpg" alt="{0164}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0164}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + When supper came, he never went near Cynthia, and busied himself in + carrying different kinds of pie and cake, and red apples and cider, to the + girls he liked the least. He shunned Cynthia, and when he was accidentally + near her, and she asked him if he would get her a glass of cider, he + rudely told her—like a goose as he was—that she had better ask + Ephraim. That seemed to him very smart; but he got more and more + miserable, and began to feel that he was making himself ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Girls have a great deal more good sense in such matters than boys. Cynthia + went to John, at length, and asked him simply what the matter was. John + blushed, and said that nothing was the matter. Cynthia said that it + wouldn't do for two people always to be together at a party; and so they + made up, and John obtained permission to “see” Cynthia home. + </p> + <p> + It was after half-past nine when the great festivities at the Deacon's + broke up, and John walked home with Cynthia over the shining crust and + under the stars. It was mostly a silent walk, for this was also an + occasion when it is difficult to find anything fit to say. And John was + thinking all the way how he should bid Cynthia good-night; whether it + would do and whether it wouldn't do, this not being a game, and no + forfeits attaching to it. When they reached the gate, there was an awkward + little pause. John said the stars were uncommonly bright. Cynthia did not + deny it, but waited a minute and then turned abruptly away, with + “Good-night, John!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Cynthia!” + </p> + <p> + And the party was over, and Cynthia was gone, and John went home in a kind + of dissatisfaction with himself. + </p> + <p> + It was long before he could go to sleep for thinking of the new world + opened to him, and imagining how he would act under a hundred different + circumstances, and what he would say, and what Cynthia would say; but a + dream at length came, and led him away to a great city and a brilliant + house; and while he was there, he heard a loud rapping on the under floor, + and saw that it was daylight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. THE SUGAR CAMP + </h2> + <p> + I think there is no part of farming the boy enjoys more than the making of + maple sugar; it is better than “blackberrying,” and nearly as good as + fishing. And one reason he likes this work is, that somebody else does the + most of it. It is a sort of work in which he can appear to be very active, + and yet not do much. + </p> + <p> + And it exactly suits the temperament of a real boy to be very busy about + nothing. If the power, for instance, that is expended in play by a boy + between the ages of eight and fourteen could be applied to some industry, + we should see wonderful results. But a boy is like a galvanic battery that + is not in connection with anything; he generates electricity and plays it + off into the air with the most reckless prodigality. And I, for one, would + n't have it otherwise. It is as much a boy's business to play off his + energies into space as it is for a flower to blow, or a catbird to sing + snatches of the tunes of all the other birds. + </p> + <p> + In my day maple-sugar-making used to be something between picnicking and + being shipwrecked on a fertile island, where one should save from the + wreck tubs and augers, and great kettles and pork, and hen's eggs and + rye-and-indian bread, and begin at once to lead the sweetest life in the + world. I am told that it is something different nowadays, and that there + is more desire to save the sap, and make good, pure sugar, and sell it for + a large price, than there used to be, and that the old fun and + picturesqueness of the business are pretty much gone. I am told that it is + the custom to carefully collect the sap and bring it to the house, where + there are built brick arches, over which it is evaporated in shallow pans, + and that pains is taken to keep the leaves, sticks, and ashes and coals + out of it, and that the sugar is clarified; and that, in short, it is a + money-making business, in which there is very little fun, and that the boy + is not allowed to dip his paddle into the kettle of boiling sugar and lick + off the delicious sirup. The prohibition may improve the sugar, but it is + cruel to the boy. + </p> + <p> + As I remember the New England boy (and I am very intimate with one), he + used to be on the qui vive in the spring for the sap to begin running. I + think he discovered it as soon as anybody. Perhaps he knew it by a feeling + of something starting in his own veins,—a sort of spring stir in his + legs and arms, which tempted him to stand on his head, or throw a + handspring, if he could find a spot of ground from which the snow had + melted. The sap stirs early in the legs of a country-boy, and shows itself + in uneasiness in the toes, which get tired of boots, and want to come out + and touch the soil just as soon as the sun has warmed it a little. The + country-boy goes barefoot just as naturally as the trees burst their buds, + which were packed and varnished over in the fall to keep the water and the + frost out. Perhaps the boy has been out digging into the maple-trees with + his jack-knife; at any rate, he is pretty sure to announce the discovery + as he comes running into the house in a great state of excitement—as + if he had heard a hen cackle in the barn—with “Sap's runnin'!” + </p> + <p> + And then, indeed, the stir and excitement begin. The sap-buckets, which + have been stored in the garret over the wood-house, and which the boy has + occasionally climbed up to look at with another boy, for they are full of + sweet suggestions of the annual spring frolic,—the sap-buckets are + brought down and set out on the south side of the house and scalded. The + snow is still a foot or two deep in the woods, and the ox-sled is got out + to make a road to the sugar camp, and the campaign begins. The boy is + everywhere present, superintending everything, asking questions, and + filled with a desire to help the excitement. + </p> + <p> + It is a great day when the cart is loaded with the buckets and the + procession starts into the woods. The sun shines almost unobstructedly + into the forest, for there are only naked branches to bar it; the snow is + soft and beginning to sink down, leaving the young bushes spindling up + everywhere; the snowbirds are twittering about, and the noise of shouting + and of the blows of the axe echoes far and wide. This is spring, and the + boy can scarcely contain his delight that his out-door life is about to + begin again. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, the men go about and tap the trees, drive in the + spouts, and hang the buckets under. The boy watches all these operations + with the greatest interest. He wishes that sometime, when a hole is bored + in a tree, the sap would spout out in a stream as it does when a + cider-barrel is tapped; but it never does, it only drops, sometimes almost + in a stream, but on the whole slowly, and the boy learns that the sweet + things of the world have to be patiently waited for, and do not usually + come otherwise than drop by drop. + </p> + <p> + Then the camp is to be cleared of snow. The shanty is re-covered with + boughs. In front of it two enormous logs are rolled nearly together, and a + fire is built between them. Forked sticks are set at each end, and a long + pole is laid on them, and on this are hung the great caldron kettles. The + huge hogsheads are turned right side up, and cleaned out to receive the + sap that is gathered. And now, if there is a good “sap run,” the + establishment is under full headway. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0175}.jpg" alt="{0175}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0175}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + The great fire that is kindled up is never let out, night or day, as long + as the season lasts. Somebody is always cutting wood to feed it; somebody + is busy most of the time gathering in the sap; somebody is required to + watch the kettles that they do not boil over, and to fill them. It is not + the boy, however; he is too busy with things in general to be of any use + in details. He has his own little sap-yoke and small pails, with which he + gathers the sweet liquid. He has a little boiling-place of his own, with + small logs and a tiny kettle. In the great kettles the boiling goes on + slowly, and the liquid, as it thickens, is dipped from one to another, + until in the end kettle it is reduced to sirup, and is taken out to cool + and settle, until enough is made to “sugar off.” To “sugar off” is to boil + the sirup until it is thick enough to crystallize into sugar. This is the + grand event, and is done only once in two or three days. + </p> + <p> + But the boy's desire is to “sugar off” perpetually. He boils his kettle + down as rapidly as possible; he is not particular about chips, scum, or + ashes; he is apt to burn his sugar; but if he can get enough to make a + little wax on the snow, or to scrape from the bottom of the kettle with + his wooden paddle, he is happy. A good deal is wasted on his hands, and + the outside of his face, and on his clothes, but he does not care; he is + not stingy. + </p> + <p> + To watch the operations of the big fire gives him constant pleasure. + Sometimes he is left to watch the boiling kettles, with a piece of pork + tied on the end of a stick, which he dips into the boiling mass when it + threatens to go over. He is constantly tasting of it, however, to see if + it is not almost sirup. He has a long round stick, whittled smooth at one + end, which he uses for this purpose, at the constant risk of burning his + tongue. The smoke blows in his face; he is grimy with ashes; he is + altogether such a mass of dirt, stickiness, and sweetness, that his own + mother would n't know him. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0179}.jpg" alt="{0179}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0179}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + He likes to boil eggs in the hot sap with the hired man; he likes to roast + potatoes in the ashes, and he would live in the camp day and night if he + were permitted. Some of the hired men sleep in the bough shanty and keep + the fire blazing all night. To sleep there with them, and awake in the + night and hear the wind in the trees, and see the sparks fly up to the + sky, is a perfect realization of all the stories of adventures he has ever + read. He tells the other boys afterwards that he heard something in the + night that sounded very much like a bear. The hired man says that he was + very much scared by the hooting of an owl. + </p> + <p> + The great occasions for the boy, though, are the times of “sugaring-off.” + Sometimes this used to be done in the evening, and it was made the excuse + for a frolic in the camp. The neighbors were invited; sometimes even the + pretty girls from the village, who filled all the woods with their sweet + voices and merry laughter and little affectations of fright. The white + snow still lies on all the ground except the warm spot about the camp. The + tree branches all show distinctly in the light of the fire, which sends + its ruddy glare far into the darkness, and lights up the bough shanty, the + hogsheads, the buckets on the trees, and the group about the boiling + kettles, until the scene is like something taken out of a fairy play. If + Rembrandt could have seen a sugar party in a New England wood, he would + have made out of its strong contrasts of light and shade one of the finest + pictures in the world. But Rembrandt was not born in Massachusetts; people + hardly ever do know where to be born until it is too late. Being born in + the right place is a thing that has been very much neglected. + </p> + <p> + At these sugar parties every one was expected to eat as much sugar as + possible; and those who are practiced in it can eat a great deal. It is a + peculiarity about eating warm maple sugar, that though you may eat so much + of it one day as to be sick and loathe the thought of it, you will want it + the next day more than ever. At the “sugaring-off” they used to pour the + hot sugar upon the snow, where it congealed, without crystallizing, into a + sort of wax, which I do suppose is the most delicious substance that was + ever invented. And it takes a great while to eat it. If one should close + his teeth firmly on a ball of it, he would be unable to open his mouth + until it dissolved. The sensation while it is melting is very pleasant, + but one cannot converse. + </p> + <p> + The boy used to make a big lump of it and give it to the dog, who seized + it with great avidity, and closed his jaws on it, as dogs will on + anything. It was funny the next moment to see the expression of perfect + surprise on the dog's face when he found that he could not open his jaws. + He shook his head; he sat down in despair; he ran round in a circle; he + dashed into the woods and back again. He did everything except climb a + tree, and howl. It would have been such a relief to him if he could have + howled. But that was the one thing he could not do. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. THE HEART OF NEW ENGLAND + </h2> + <p> + It is a wonder that every New England boy does not turn out a poet, or a + missionary, or a peddler. Most of them used to. There is everything in the + heart of the New England hills to feed the imagination of the boy, and + excite his longing for strange countries. I scarcely know what the subtle + influence is that forms him and attracts him in the most fascinating and + aromatic of all lands, and yet urges him away from all the sweet delights + of his home to become a roamer in literature and in the world, a poet and + a wanderer. There is something in the soil and the pure air, I suspect, + that promises more romance than is forthcoming, that excites the + imagination without satisfying it, and begets the desire of adventure. And + the prosaic life of the sweet home does not at all correspond to the boy's + dreams of the world. In the good old days, I am told, the boys on the + coast ran away and became sailors; the countryboys waited till they grew + big enough to be missionaries, and then they sailed away, and met the + coast boys in foreign ports. John used to spend hours in the top of a + slender hickory-tree that a little detached itself from the forest which + crowned the brow of the steep and lofty pasture behind his house. He was + sent to make war on the bushes that constantly encroached upon the + pastureland; but John had no hostility to any growing thing, and a very + little bushwhacking satisfied him. When he had grubbed up a few laurels + and young tree-sprouts, he was wont to retire into his favorite post of + observation and meditation. Perhaps he fancied that the wide-swaying stem + to which he clung was the mast of a ship; that the tossing forest behind + him was the heaving waves of the sea; and that the wind which moaned over + the woods and murmured in the leaves, and now and then sent him a wide + circuit in the air, as if he had been a blackbird on the tip-top of a + spruce, was an ocean gale. What life, and action, and heroism there was to + him in the multitudinous roar of the forest, and what an eternity of + existence in the monologue of the river, which brawled far, far below him + over its wide stony bed! How the river sparkled and danced and went on, + now in a smooth amber current, now fretted by the pebbles, but always with + that continuous busy song! John never knew that noise to cease, and he + doubted not, if he stayed here a thousand years, that same loud murmur + would fill the air. + </p> + <p> + On it went, under the wide spans of the old wooden, covered bridge, + swirling around the great rocks on which the piers stood, spreading away + below in shallows, and taking the shadows of a row of maples that lined + the green shore. Save this roar, no sound reached him, except now and then + the rumble of a wagon on the bridge, or the muffled far-off voices of some + chance passers on the road. Seen from this high perch, the familiar + village, sending its brown roofs and white spires up through the green + foliage, had a strange aspect, and was like some town in a book, say a + village nestled in the Swiss mountains, or something in Bohemia. And + there, beyond the purple hills of Bozrah, and not so far as the stony + pastures of Zoah, whither John had helped drive the colts and young stock + in the spring, might be, perhaps, Jerusalem itself. John had himself once + been to the land of Canaan with his grandfather, when he was a very small + boy; and he had once seen an actual, no-mistake Jew, a mysterious person, + with uncut beard and long hair, who sold scythe-snaths in that region, and + about whom there was a rumor that he was once caught and shaved by the + indignant farmers, who apprehended in his long locks a contempt of the + Christian religion. + +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0187}.jpg" alt="{0187}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0187}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> + +Oh, the world had vast possibilities for John. Away to + the south, up a vast basin of forest, there was a notch in the horizon and + an opening in the line of woods, where the road ran. Through this opening + John imagined an army might appear, perhaps British, perhaps Turks, and + banners of red and of yellow advance, and a cannon wheel about and point + its long nose, and open on the valley. He fancied the army, after this + salute, winding down the mountain road, deploying in the meadows, and + giving the valley to pillage and to flame. In which event his position + would be an excellent one for observation and for safety. While he was in + the height of this engagement, perhaps the horn would be blown from the + back porch, reminding him that it was time to quit cutting brush and go + for the cows. As if there were no better use for a warrior and a poet in + New England than to send him for the cows! + </p> + <p> + John knew a boy—a bad enough boy I daresay—who afterwards + became a general in the war, and went to Congress, and got to be a real + governor, who also used to be sent to cut brush in the back pastures, and + hated it in his very soul; and by his wrong conduct forecast what kind of + a man he would be. This boy, as soon as he had cut about one brush, would + seek for one of several holes in the ground (and he was familiar with + several), in which lived a white-and-black animal that must always be + nameless in a book, but an animal quite capable of the most pungent + defense of himself. This young aspirant to Congress would cut a long + stick, with a little crotch in the end of it, and run it into the hole; + and when the crotch was punched into the fur and skin of the animal, he + would twist the stick round till it got a good grip on the skin, and then + he would pull the beast out; and when he got the white-and-black just out + of the hole so that his dog could seize him, the boy would take to his + heels, and leave the two to fight it out, content to scent the battle afar + off. And this boy, who was in training for public life, would do this sort + of thing all the afternoon, and when the sun told him that he had spent + long enough time cutting brush, he would industriously go home as innocent + as anybody. There are few such boys as this nowadays; and that is the + reason why the New England pastures are so much overgrown with brush. + </p> + <p> + John himself preferred to hunt the pugnacious woodchuck. He bore a special + grudge against this clover-eater, beyond the usual hostility that boys + feel for any wild animal. One day on his way to school a woodchuck crossed + the road before him, and John gave chase. The woodchuck scrambled into an + orchard and climbed a small apple-tree. John thought this a most cowardly + and unfair retreat, and stood under the tree and taunted the animal and + stoned it. Thereupon the woodchuck dropped down on John and seized him by + the leg of his trousers. John was both enraged and scared by this + dastardly attack; the teeth of the enemy went through the cloth and met; + and there he hung. John then made a pivot of one leg and whirled himself + around, swinging the woodchuck in the air, until he shook him off; but in + his departure the woodchuck carried away a large piece of John's summer + trousers-leg. The boy never forgot it. And whenever he had a holiday, he + used to expend an amount of labor and ingenuity in the pursuit of + woodchucks that would have made his for tune in any useful pursuit. There + was a hill pasture, down on one side of which ran a small brook, and this + pasture was full of woodchuck-holes. It required the assistance of several + boys to capture a woodchuck. It was first necessary by patient watching to + ascertain that the woodchuck was at home. When one was seen to enter his + burrow, then all the entries to it except one—there are usually + three—were plugged up with stones. A boy and a dog were then left to + watch the open hole, while John and his comrades went to the brook and + began to dig a canal, to turn the water into the residence of the + woodchuck. This was often a difficult feat of engineering, and a long job. + Often it took more than half a day of hard labor with shovel and hoe to + dig the canal. But when the canal was finished and the water began to pour + into the hole, the excitement began. How long would it take to fill the + hole and drown out the woodchuck? Sometimes it seemed as if the hole was a + bottomless pit. But sooner or later the water would rise in it, and then + there was sure to be seen the nose of the woodchuck, keeping itself on a + level with the rising flood. It was piteous to see the anxious look of the + hunted, half-drowned creature as—it came to the surface and caught + sight of the dog. There the dog stood, at the mouth of the hole, quivering + with excitement from his nose to the tip of his tail, and behind him were + the cruel boys dancing with joy and setting the dog on. The poor creature + would disappear in the water in terror; but he must breathe, and out would + come his nose again, nearer the dog each time. At last the water ran out + of the hole as well as in, and the soaked beast came with it, and made a + desperate rush. But in a trice the dog had him, and the boys stood off in + a circle, with stones in their hands, to see what they called “fair play.” + They maintained perfect “neutrality” so long as the dog was getting the + best of the woodchuck; but if the latter was likely to escape, they + “interfered” in the interest of peace and the “balance of power,” and + killed the woodchuck. This is a boy's notion of justice; of course, he'd + no business to be a woodchuck,—an—unspeakable woodchuck. + </p> + <p> + I used the word “aromatic” in relation to the New England soil. John knew + very well all its sweet, aromatic, pungent, and medicinal products, and + liked to search for the scented herbs and the wild fruits and exquisite + flowers; but he did not then know, and few do know, that there is no part + of the globe where the subtle chemistry of the earth produces more that is + agreeable to the senses than a New England hill-pasture and the green + meadow at its foot. The poets have succeeded in turning our attention from + it to the comparatively barren Orient as the land of sweet-smelling spices + and odorous gums. And it is indeed a constant surprise that this poor and + stony soil elaborates and grows so many delicate and aromatic products. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0196}.jpg" alt="{0196}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0196}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + John, it is true, did not care much for anything that did not appeal to + his taste and smell and delight in brilliant color; and he trod down the + exquisite ferns and the wonderful mosses—without compunction. But he + gathered from the crevices of the rocks the columbine and the eglantine + and the blue harebell; he picked the high-flavored alpine strawberry, the + blueberry, the boxberry, wild currants and gooseberries, and fox-grapes; + he brought home armfuls of the pink-and-white laurel and the wild + honeysuckle; he dug the roots of the fragrant sassafras and of the + sweet-flag; he ate the tender leaves of the wintergreen and its red + berries; he gathered the peppermint and the spearmint; he gnawed the twigs + of the black birch; there was a stout fern which he called “brake,” which + he pulled up, and found that the soft end “tasted good;” he dug the amber + gum from the spruce-tree, and liked to smell, though he could not chew, + the gum of the wild cherry; it was his melancholy duty to bring home such + medicinal herbs for the garret as the gold-thread, the tansy, and the + loathsome “boneset;” and he laid in for the winter, like a squirrel, + stores of beechnuts, hazel-nuts, hickory-nuts, chestnuts, and butternuts. + But that which lives most vividly in his memory and most strongly draws + him back to the New England hills is the aromatic sweet-fern; he likes to + eat its spicy seeds, and to crush in his hands its fragrant leaves; their + odor is the unique essence of New England. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. JOHN'S REVIVAL. + </h2> + <p> + The New England country-boy of the last generation never heard of + Christmas. There was no such day in his calendar. If John ever came across + it in his reading, he attached no meaning to the word. + </p> + <p> + If his curiosity had been aroused, and he had asked his elders about it, + he might have got the dim impression that it was a kind of Popish holiday, + the celebration of which was about as wicked as “card-playing,” or being a + “Democrat.” John knew a couple of desperately bad boys who were reported + to play “seven-up” in a barn, on the haymow, and the enormity of this + practice made him shudder. He had once seen a pack of greasy + “playing-cards,” and it seemed to him to contain the quintessence of sin. + If he had desired to defy all Divine law and outrage all human society, he + felt that he could do it by shuffling them. And he was quite right. The + two bad boys enjoyed in stealth their scandalous pastime, because they + knew it was the most wicked thing they could do. If it had been as sinless + as playing marbles, they would n't have cared for it. John sometimes drove + past a brown, tumble-down farmhouse, whose shiftless inhabitants, it was + said, were card-playing people; and it is impossible to describe how + wicked that house appeared to John. He almost expected to see its shingles + stand on end. In the old New England one could not in any other way so + express his contempt of all holy and orderly life as by playing cards for + amusement. + </p> + <p> + There was no element of Christmas in John's life, any more than there was + of Easter; and probably nobody about him could have explained Easter; and + he escaped all the demoralization attending Christmas gifts. Indeed, he + never had any presents of any kind, either on his birthday or any other + day. He expected nothing that he did not earn, or make in the way of + “trade” with another boy. He was taught to work for what he received. He + even earned, as I said, the extra holidays of the day after the Fourth and + the day after Thanksgiving. Of the free grace and gifts of Christmas he + had no conception. The single and melancholy association he had with it + was the quaking hymn which his grandfather used to sing in a cracked and + quavering voice: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “While shepherds watched their flocks by night, + All seated on the ground.” + </pre> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0202}.jpg" alt="{0202}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0202}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + The “glory” that “shone around” at the end of it—the doleful voice + always repeating, “and glory shone around “—made John as miserable + as “Hark! from the tombs.” It was all one dreary expectation of something + uncomfortable. It was, in short, “religion.” You'd got to have it some + time; that John believed. But it lay in his unthinking mind to put off the + “Hark! from the tombs” enjoyment as long as possible. He experienced a + kind of delightful wickedness in indulging his dislike of hymns and of + Sunday. + </p> + <p> + John was not a model boy, but I cannot exactly define in what his + wickedness consisted. He had no inclination to steal, nor much to lie; and + he despised “meanness” and stinginess, and had a chivalrous feeling toward + little girls. Probably it never occurred to him that there was any virtue + in not stealing and lying, for honesty and veracity were in the atmosphere + about him. He hated work, and he “got mad” easily; but he did work, and he + was always ashamed when he was over his fit of passion. In short, you + couldn't find a much better wicked boy than John. + </p> + <p> + When the “revival” came, therefore, one summer, John was in a quandary. + Sunday meeting and Sunday-school he did n't mind; they were a part of + regular life, and only temporarily interrupted a boy's pleasures. But when + there began to be evening meetings at the different houses, a new element + came into affairs. There was a kind of solemnity over the community, and a + seriousness in all faces. At first these twilight assemblies offered a + little relief to the monotony of farm life; and John liked to meet the + boys and girls, and to watch the older people coming in, dressed in their + second best. I think John's imagination was worked upon by the sweet and + mournful hymns that were discordantly sung in the stiff old parlors. There + was a suggestion of Sunday, and sanctity too, in the odor of caraway-seed + that pervaded the room. The windows were wide open also, and the scent of + June roses came in, with all the languishing sounds of a summer night. All + the little boys had a scared look, but the little girls were never so + pretty and demure as in this their susceptible seriousness. If John saw a + boy who did not come to the evening meeting, but was wandering off with + his sling down the meadow, looking for frogs, maybe, that boy seemed to + him a monster of wickedness. + </p> + <p> + After a time, as the meetings continued, John fell also under the general + impression of fright and seriousness. All the talk was of “getting + religion,” and he heard over and over again that the probability was if he + did not get it now, he never would. The chance did not come often, and if + this offer was not improved, John would be given over to hardness of + heart. His obstinacy would show that he was not one of the elect. John + fancied that he could feel his heart hardening, and he began to look with + a wistful anxiety into the faces of the Christians to see what were the + visible signs of being one of the elect. John put on a good deal of a + manner that he “did n't care,” and he never admitted his disquiet by + asking any questions or standing up in meeting to be prayed for. But he + did care. He heard all the time that all he had to do was to repent and + believe. But there was nothing that he doubted, and he was perfectly + willing to repent if he could think of anything to repent of. + </p> + <p> + It was essential he learned, that he should have a “conviction of sin.” + This he earnestly tried to have. Other people, no better than he, had it, + and he wondered why he could n't have it. Boys and girls whom he knew were + “under conviction,” and John began to feel not only panicky, but lonesome. + Cynthia Rudd had been anxious for days and days, and not able to sleep at + night, but now she had given herself up and found peace. There was a kind + of radiance in her face that struck John with awe, and he felt that now + there was a great gulf between him and Cynthia. Everybody was going away + from him, and his heart was getting harder than ever. He could n't feel + wicked, all he could do. And there was Ed Bates his intimate friend, + though older than he, a “whaling,” noisy kind of boy, who was under + conviction and sure he was going to be lost. +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0208}.jpg" alt="{0208}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0208}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> +How John envied him! And + pretty soon Ed “experienced religion.” John anxiously watched the change + in Ed's face when he became one of the elect. And a change there was. And + John wondered about another thing. Ed Bates used to go trout-fishing, with + a tremendously long pole, in a meadow brook near the river; and when the + trout didn't bite right off, Ed would—get mad, and as soon as one + took hold he would give an awful jerk, sending the fish more than three + hundred feet into the air and landing it in the bushes the other side of + the meadow, crying out, “Gul darn ye, I'll learn ye.” And John wondered if + Ed would take the little trout out any more gently now. + </p> + <p> + John felt more and more lonesome as one after another of his playmates + came out and made a profession. Cynthia (she too was older than John) sat + on Sunday in the singers' seat; her voice, which was going to be a + contralto, had a wonderful pathos in it for him, and he heard it with a + heartache. “There she is,” thought John, “singing away like an angel in + heaven, and I am left out.” During all his after life a contralto voice + was to John one of his most bitter and heart-wringing pleasures. It + suggested the immaculate scornful, the melancholy unattainable. + </p> + <p> + If ever a boy honestly tried to work himself into a conviction of sin, + John tried. And what made him miserable was, that he couldn't feel + miserable when everybody else was miserable. He even began to pretend to + be so. He put on a serious and anxious look like the others. He pretended + he did n't care for play; he refrained from chasing chipmunks and snaring + suckers; the songs of birds and the bright vivacity of the summer—time + that used to make him turn hand-springs smote him as a discordant levity. + He was not a hypocrite at all, and he was getting to be alarmed that he + was not alarmed at himself. Every day and night he heard that the spirit + of the Lord would probably soon quit striving with him, and leave him out. + The phrase was that he would “grieve away the Holy Spirit.” John wondered + if he was not doing it. He did everything to put himself in the way of + conviction, was constant at the evening meetings, wore a grave face, + refrained from play, and tried to feel anxious. At length he concluded + that he must do something. + </p> + <p> + One night as he walked home from a solemn meeting, at which several of his + little playmates had “come forward,” he felt that he could force the + crisis. He was alone on the sandy road; it was an enchanting summer night; + the stars danced overhead, and by his side the broad and shallow river ran + over its stony bed with a loud but soothing murmur that filled all the air + with entreaty. John did not then know that it sang, “But I go on forever,” + yet there was in it for him something of the solemn flow of the eternal + world. When he came in sight of the house, he knelt down in the dust by a + pile of rails and prayed. He prayed that he might feel bad, and be + distressed about himself. As he prayed he heard distinctly, and yet not as + a disturbance, the multitudinous croaking of the frogs by the meadow + spring. It was not discordant with his thoughts; it had in it a melancholy + pathos, as if it were a kind of call to the unconverted. What is there in + this sound that suggests the tenderness of spring, the despair of a summer + night, the desolateness of young love? Years after it happened to John to + be at twilight at a railway station on the edge of the Ravenna marshes. A + little way over the purple plain he saw the darkening towers and heard + “the sweet bells of Imola.” The Holy Pontiff Pius IX. was born at Imola, + and passed his boyhood in that serene and moist region. As the train + waited, John heard from miles of marshes round about the evening song of + millions of frogs, louder and more melancholy and entreating than the + vesper call of the bells. And instantly his mind went back for the + association of sound is as subtle as that of odor—to the prayer, + years ago, by the roadside and the plaintive appeal of the unheeded frogs, + and he wondered if the little Pope had not heard the like importunity, and + perhaps, when he thought of himself as a little Pope, associated his + conversion with this plaintive sound. + </p> + <p> + John prayed, but without feeling any worse, and then went desperately into + the house, and told the family that he was in an anxious state of mind. + This was joyful news to the sweet and pious household, and the little boy + was urged to feel that he was a sinner, to repent, and to become that + night a Christian; he was prayed over, and told to read the Bible, and put + to bed with the injunction to repeat all the texts of Scripture and hymns + he could think of. John did this, and said over and over the few texts he + was master of, and tossed about in a real discontent now, for he had a dim + notion that he was playing the hypocrite a little. But he was sincere + enough in wanting to feel, as the other boys and girls felt, that he was a + wicked sinner. He tried to think of his evil deeds; and one occurred to + him; indeed, it often came to his mind. It was a lie; a deliberate, awful + lie, that never injured anybody but himself John knew he was not wicked + enough to tell a lie to injure anybody else. + </p> + <p> + This was the lie. One afternoon at school, just before John's class was to + recite in geography, his pretty cousin, a young lady he held in great love + and respect, came in to visit the school. John was a favorite with her, + and she had come to hear him recite. As it happened, John felt shaky in + the geographical lesson of that day, and he feared to be humiliated in the + presence of his cousin; he felt embarrassed to that degree that he could + n't have “bounded” Massachusetts. So he stood up and raised his hand, and + said to the schoolma'am, “Please, ma'am, I 've got the stomach-ache; may I + go home?” And John's character for truthfulness was so high (and even this + was ever a reproach to him), that his word was instantly believed, and he + was dismissed without any medical examination. For a moment John was + delighted to get out of school so early; but soon his guilt took all the + light out of the summer sky and the pleasantness out of nature. He had to + walk slowly, without a single hop or jump, as became a diseased boy. +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0216}.jpg" alt="{0216}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0216}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> +The + sight of a woodchuck at a distance from his well-known hole tempted John, + but he restrained himself, lest somebody should see him, and know that + chasing a woodchuck was inconsistent with the stomach-ache. He was acting + a miserable part, but it had to be gone through with. He went home and + told his mother the reason he had left school, but he added that he felt + “some” better now. The “some” did n't save him. Genuine sympathy was + lavished on him. He had to swallow a stiff dose of nasty “picra,”—the + horror of all childhood, and he was put in bed immediately. The world + never looked so pleasant to John, but to bed he was forced to go. He was + excused from all chores; he was not even to go after the cows. John said + he thought he ought to go after the cows,—much as he hated the + business usually, he would now willingly have wandered over the world + after cows,—and for this heroic offer, in the condition he was, he + got credit for a desire to do his duty; and this unjust confidence in him + added to his torture. And he had intended to set his hooks that night for + eels. His cousin came home, and sat by his bedside and condoled with him; + his schoolma'am had sent word how sorry she was for him, John was Such a + good boy. All this was dreadful. + </p> + <p> + He groaned in agony. Besides, he was not to have any supper; it would be + very dangerous to eat a morsel. The prospect was appalling. Never was + there such a long twilight; never before did he hear so many sounds + outdoors that he wanted to investigate. Being ill without any illness was + a horrible condition. And he began to have real stomach-ache now; and it + ached because it was empty. John was hungry enough to have eaten the New + England Primer. But by and by sleep came, and John forgot his woes in + dreaming that he knew where Madagascar was just as easy as anything. + </p> + <p> + It was this lie that came back to John the night he was trying to be + affected by the revival. And he was very much ashamed of it, and believed + he would never tell another. But then he fell thinking whether, with the + “picra,” and the going to bed in the afternoon, and the loss of his + supper, he had not been sufficiently paid for it. And in this unhopeful + frame of mind he dropped off in sleep. + </p> + <p> + And the truth must be told, that in the morning John was no nearer to + realizing the terrors he desired to feel. But he was a conscientious boy, + and would do nothing to interfere with the influences of the season. He + not only put himself away from them all, but he refrained from doing + almost everything that he wanted to do. There came at that time a + newspaper, a secular newspaper, which had in it a long account of the Long + Island races, in which the famous horse “Lexington” was a runner. John was + fond of horses, he knew about Lexington, and he had looked forward to the + result of this race with keen interest. But to read the account of it how + he felt might destroy his seriousness of mind, and in all reverence and + simplicity he felt it—be a means of “grieving away the Holy Spirit.” + He therefore hid away the paper in a table-drawer, intending to read it + when the revival should be over. Weeks after, when he looked for the + newspaper, it was not to be found, and John never knew what “time” + Lexington made nor anything about the race. This was to him a serious + loss, but by no means so deep as another feeling that remained with him; + for when his little world returned to its ordinary course, and long after, + John had an uneasy apprehension of his own separateness from other people, + in his insensibility to the revival. Perhaps the experience was a damage + to him; and it is a pity that there was no one to explain that religion + for a little fellow like him is not a “scheme.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. WAR + </h2> + <p> + Every boy who is good for anything is a natural savage. The scientists who + want to study the primitive man, and have so much difficulty in finding + one anywhere in this sophisticated age, couldn't do better than to devote + their attention to the common country-boy. He has the primal, vigorous + instincts and impulses of the African savage, without any of the vices + inherited from a civilization long ago decayed or developed in an + unrestrained barbaric society. You want to catch your boy young, and study + him before he has either virtues or vices, in order to understand the + primitive man. + </p> + <p> + Every New England boy desires (or did desire a generation ago, before + children were born sophisticated, with a large library, and with the word + “culture” written on their brows) to live by hunting, fishing, and war. + The military instinct, which is the special mark of barbarism, is strong + in him. It arises not alone from his love of fighting, for the boy is + naturally as cowardly as the savage, but from his fondness for display,—the + same that a corporal or a general feels in decking himself in tinsel and + tawdry colors and strutting about in view of the female sex. Half the + pleasure in going out to murder another man with a gun would be wanting if + one did not wear feathers and gold-lace and stripes on his pantaloons. The + law also takes this view of it, and will not permit men to shoot each + other in plain clothes. And the world also makes some curious distinctions + in the art of killing. To kill people with arrows is barbarous; to kill + them with smooth-bores and flintlock muskets is semi-civilized; to kill + them with breech-loading rifles is civilized. That nation is the most + civilized which has the appliances to kill the most of another nation in + the shortest time. This is the result of six thousand years of constant + civilization. By and by, when the nations cease to be boys, perhaps they + will not want to kill each other at all. Some people think the world is + very old; but here is an evidence that it is very young, and, in fact, has + scarcely yet begun to be a world. When the volcanoes have done spouting, + and the earthquakes are quaked out, and you can tell what land is going to + be solid and keep its level twenty-four hours, and the swamps are filled + up, and the deltas of the great rivers, like the Mississippi and the Nile, + become terra firma, and men stop killing their fellows in order to get + their land and other property, then perhaps there will be a world that an + angel would n't weep over. Now one half the world are employed in getting + ready to kill the other half, some of them by marching about in uniform, + and the others by hard work to earn money to pay taxes to buy uniforms and + guns. + </p> + <p> + John was not naturally very cruel, and it was probably the love of display + quite as much as of fighting that led him into a military life; for he, in + common with all his comrades, had other traits of the savage. One of them + was the same passion for ornament that induces the African to wear anklets + and bracelets of hide and of metal, and to decorate himself with tufts of + hair, and to tattoo his body. In John's day there was a rage at school + among the boys for wearing bracelets woven of the hair of the little + girls. Some of them were wonderful specimens of braiding and twist. These + were not captured in war, but were sentimental tokens of friendship given + by the young maidens themselves. John's own hair was kept so short (as + became a warrior) that you couldn't have made a bracelet out of it, or + anything except a paintbrush; but the little girls were not under military + law, and they willingly sacrificed their tresses to decorate the soldiers + they esteemed. As the Indian is honored in proportion to the scalps he can + display, at John's school the boy was held in highest respect who could + show the most hair trophies on his wrist. John himself had a variety that + would have pleased a Mohawk, fine and coarse and of all colors. There were + the flaxen, the faded straw, the glossy black, the lustrous brown, the + dirty yellow, the undecided auburn, and the fiery red. Perhaps his pulse + beat more quickly under the red hair of Cynthia Rudd than on account of + all the other wristlets put together; it was a sort of + gold-tried-in-the-fire-color to John, and burned there with a steady + flame. Now that Cynthia had become a Christian, this band of hair seemed a + more sacred if less glowing possession (for all detached hair will fade in + time), and if he had known anything about saints, he would have imagined + that it was a part of the aureole that always goes with a saint. But I am + bound to say that while John had a tender feeling for this red string, his + sentiment was not that of the man who becomes entangled in the meshes of a + woman's hair; and he valued rather the number than the quality of these + elastic wristlets. + </p> + <p> + John burned with as real a military ardor as ever inflamed the breast of + any slaughterer of his fellows. He liked to read of war, of encounters + with the Indians, of any kind of wholesale killing in glittering uniform, + to the noise of the terribly exciting fife and drum, which maddened the + combatants and drowned the cries of the wounded. In his future he saw + himself a soldier with plume and sword and snug-fitting, decorated + clothes,—very different from his somewhat roomy trousers and + country-cut roundabout, made by Aunt Ellis, the village tailoress, who cut + out clothes, not according to the shape of the boy, but to what he was + expected to grow to,—going where glory awaited him. In his + observation of pictures, it was the common soldier who was always falling + and dying, while the officer stood unharmed in the storm of bullets and + waved his sword in a heroic attitude. John determined to be an officer. + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that he was an ardent member of the military company + of his village. He had risen from the grade of corporal to that of first + lieutenant; the captain was a boy whose father was captain of the grown + militia company, and consequently had inherited military aptness and + knowledge. The old captain was a flaming son of Mars, whose nose militia, + war, general training, and New England rum had painted with the color of + glory and disaster. He was one of the gallant old soldiers of the peaceful + days of our country, splendid in uniform, a martinet in drill, terrible in + oaths, a glorious object when he marched at the head of his company of + flintlock muskets, with the American banner full high advanced, and the + clamorous drum defying the world. In this he fulfilled his duties of + citizen, faithfully teaching his uniformed companions how to march by the + left leg, and to get reeling drunk by sundown; otherwise he did n't amount + to much in the community; his house was unpainted, his fences were tumbled + down, his farm was a waste, his wife wore an old gown to meeting, to which + the captain never went; but he was a good trout-fisher, and there was no + man in town who spent more time at the country store and made more shrewd + observations upon the affairs of his neighbors. Although he had never been + in an asylum any more than he had been in war, he was almost as perfect a + drunkard as he was soldier. He hated the British, whom he had never seen, + as much as he loved rum, from which he was never separated. + </p> + <p> + The company which his son commanded, wearing his father's belt and sword, + was about as effective as the old company, and more orderly. It contained + from thirty to fifty boys, according to the pressure of “chores” at home, + and it had its great days of parade and its autumn maneuvers, like the + general training. It was an artillery company, which gave every boy a + chance to wear a sword, and it possessed a small mounted cannon, which was + dragged about and limbered and unlimbered and fired, to the imminent + danger of everybody, especially of the company. In point of marching, with + all the legs going together, and twisting itself up and untwisting + breaking into single-file (for Indian fighting), and forming platoons, + turning a sharp corner, and getting out of the way of a wagon, circling + the town pump, frightening horses, stopping short in front of the tavern, + with ranks dressed and eyes right and left, it was the equal of any + military organization I ever saw. It could train better than the big + company, and I think it did more good in keeping alive the spirit of + patriotism and desire to fight. Its discipline was strict. If a boy left + the ranks to jab a spectator, or make faces at a window, or “go for” a + striped snake, he was “hollered” at no end. + </p> + <p> + It was altogether a very serious business; there was no levity about the + hot and hard marching, and as boys have no humor, nothing ludicrous + occurred. John was very proud of his office, and of his ability to keep + the rear ranks closed up and ready to execute any maneuver when the + captain “hollered,” which he did continually. He carried a real sword, + which his grandfather had worn in many a militia campaign on the village + green, the rust upon which John fancied was Indian blood; he had various + red and yellow insignia of military rank sewed upon different parts of his + clothes, and though his cocked hat was of pasteboard, it was decorated + with gilding and bright rosettes, and floated a red feather that made his + heart beat with martial fury whenever he looked at it. The effect of this + uniform upon the girls was not a matter of conjecture. I think they really + cared nothing about it, but they pretended to think it fine, and they fed + the poor boy's vanity, the weakness by which women govern the world. + </p> + <p> + The exalted happiness of John in this military service I daresay was never + equaled in any subsequent occupation. The display of the company in the + village filled him with the loftiest heroism. There was nothing wanting + but an enemy to fight, but this could only be had by half the company + staining themselves with elderberry juice and going into the woods as + Indians, to fight the artillery from behind trees with bows and arrows, or + to ambush it and tomahawk the gunners. This, however, was made to seem + very like real war. Traditions of Indian cruelty were still fresh in + western Massachusetts. Behind John's house in the orchard were some old + slate tombstones, sunken and leaning, which recorded the names of Captain + Moses Rice and Phineas Arms, who had been killed by Indians in the last + century while at work in the meadow by the river, and who slept there in + the hope of the glorious resurrection. Phineas Arms martial name—was + long since dust, and even the mortal part of the great Captain Moses Rice + had been absorbed in the soil and passed perhaps with the sap up into the + old but still blooming apple-trees. It was a quiet place where they lay, + but they might have heard—if hear they could—the loud, + continuous roar of the Deerfield, and the stirring of the long grass on + that sunny slope. There was a tradition that years ago an Indian, probably + the last of his race, had been seen moving along the crest of the + mountain, and gazing down into the lovely valley which had been the + favorite home of his tribe, upon the fields where he grew his corn, and + the sparkling stream whence he drew his fish. John used to fancy at times, + as he sat there, that he could see that red specter gliding among the + trees on the hill; and if the tombstone suggested to him the trump of + judgment, he could not separate it from the war-whoop that had been the + last sound in the ear of Phineas Arms. The Indian always preceded murder + by the war-whoop; and this was an advantage that the artillery had in the + fight with the elderberry Indians. It was warned in time. If there was no + war-whoop, the killing did n't count; the artillery man got up and killed + the Indian. The Indian usually had the worst of it; he not only got killed + by the regulars, but he got whipped by the home guard at night for + staining himself and his clothes with the elderberry. + </p> + <p> + But once a year the company had a superlative parade. This was when the + military company from the north part of the town joined the villagers in a + general muster. This was an infantry company, and not to be compared with + that of the village in point of evolutions. There was a great and natural + hatred between the north town boys and the center. I don't know why, but + no contiguous African tribes could be more hostile. It was all right for + one of either section to “lick” the other if he could, or for half a dozen + to “lick” one of the enemy if they caught him alone. The notion of honor, + as of mercy, comes into the boy only when he is pretty well grown; to some + neither ever comes. And yet there was an artificial military courtesy + (something like that existing in the feudal age, no doubt) which put the + meeting of these two rival and mutually detested companies on a high plane + of behavior. It was beautiful to see the seriousness of this lofty and + studied condescension on both sides. For the time everything was under + martial law. The village company being the senior, its captain commanded + the united battalion in the march, and this put John temporarily into the + position of captain, with the right to march at the head and “holler;” a + responsibility which realized all his hopes of glory. I suppose there has + yet been discovered by man no gratification like that of marching at the + head of a column in uniform on parade, unless, perhaps, it is marching at + their head when they are leaving a field of battle. John experienced all + the thrill of this conspicuous authority, and I daresay that nothing in + his later life has so exalted him in his own esteem; certainly nothing has + since happened that was so important as the events of that parade day + seemed. He satiated himself with all the delights of war. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. COUNTRY SCENES + </h2> + <p> + It is impossible to say at what age a New England country-boy becomes + conscious that his trousers-legs are too short, and is anxious about the + part of his hair and the fit of his woman-made roundabout. These harrowing + thoughts come to him later than to the city lad. At least, a generation + ago he served a long apprenticeship with nature only for a master, + absolutely unconscious of the artificialities of life. + </p> + <p> + But I do not think his early education was neglected. And yet it is easy + to underestimate the influences that, unconsciously to him, were expanding + his mind and nursing in him heroic purposes. There was the lovely but + narrow valley, with its rapid mountain stream; there were the great hills + which he climbed, only to see other hills stretching away to a broken and + tempting horizon; there were the rocky pastures, and the wide sweeps of + forest through which the winter tempests howled, upon which hung the haze + of summer heat, over which the great shadows of summer clouds traveled; + there were the clouds themselves, shouldering up above the peaks, hurrying + across the narrow sky,—the clouds out of which the wind came, and + the lightning and the sudden dashes of rain; and there were days when the + sky was ineffably blue and distant, a fathomless vault of heaven where the + hen-hawk and the eagle poised on outstretched wings and watched for their + prey. Can you say how these things fed the imagination of the boy, who had + few books and no contact with the great world? Do you think any city lad + could have written “Thanatopsis” at eighteen? + </p> + <p> + If you had seen John, in his short and roomy trousers and ill-used straw + hat, picking his barefooted way over the rocks along the river-bank of a + cool morning to see if an eel had “got on,” you would not have fancied + that he lived in an ideal world. Nor did he consciously. So far as he + knew, he had no more sentiment than a jack-knife. Although he loved + Cynthia Rudd devotedly, and blushed scarlet one day when his cousin found + a lock of Cynthia's flaming hair in the box where John kept his fishhooks, + spruce gum, flag-root, tickets of standing at the head, gimlet, + billets-doux in blue ink, a vile liquid in a bottle to make fish bite, and + other precious possessions, yet Cynthia's society had no attractions for + him comparable to a day's trout-fishing. She was, after all, only a single + and a very undefined item in his general ideal world, and there was no + harm in letting his imagination play about her illumined head. Since + Cynthia had “got religion” and John had got nothing, his love was tempered + with a little awe and a feeling of distance. +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0238}.jpg" alt="{0238}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0238}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> +He was not fickle, and yet I + cannot say that he was not ready to construct a new romance, in which + Cynthia should be eliminated. Nothing was easier. Perhaps it was a + luxurious traveling carriage, drawn by two splendid horses in plated + harness, driven along the sandy road. There were a gentleman and a young + lad on the front seat, and on the back seat a handsome pale lady with a + little girl beside her. Behind, on the rack with the trunk, was a colored + boy, an imp out of a story-book. John was told that the black boy was a + slave, and that the carriage was from Baltimore. Here was a chance for a + romance. Slavery, beauty, wealth, haughtiness, especially on the part of + the slender boy on the front seat,—here was an opening into a vast + realm. The high-stepping horses and the shining harness were enough to + excite John's admiration, but these were nothing to the little girl. His + eyes had never before fallen upon that kind of girl; he had hardly + imagined that such a lovely creature could exist. Was it the soft and + dainty toilet, was it the brown curls, or the large laughing eyes, or the + delicate, finely cut features, or the charming little figure of this + fairy-like person? Was this expression on her mobile face merely that of + amusement at seeing a country-boy? Then John hated her. On the contrary, + did she see in him what John felt himself to be? Then he would go the + world over to serve her. In a moment he was self-conscious. His trousers + seemed to creep higher up his legs, and he could feel his very ankles + blush. He hoped that she had not seen the other side of him, for, in fact, + the patches were not of the exact shade of the rest of the cloth. The + vision flashed by him in a moment, but it left him with a resentful + feeling. Perhaps that proud little girl would be sorry some day, when he + had become a general, or written a book, or kept a store, to see him go + away and marry another. He almost made up his cruel mind on the instant + that he would never marry her, however bad she might feel. And yet he + could n't get her out of his mind for days and days, and when her image + was present, even Cynthia in the singers' seat on Sunday looked a little + cheap and common. +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0242}.jpg" alt="{0242}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0242}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + +<p> +Poor Cynthia! Long before John became a general or had + his revenge on the Baltimore girl, she married a farmer and was the mother + of children, red-headed; and when John saw her years after, she looked + tired and discouraged, as one who has carried into womanhood none of the + romance of her youth. + </p> + <p> + Fishing and dreaming, I think, were the best amusements John had. The + middle pier of the long covered bridge over the river stood upon a great + rock, and this rock (which was known as the swimming-rock, whence the boys + on summer evenings dove into the deep pool by its side) was a favorite + spot with John when he could get an hour or two from the everlasting + “chores.” Making his way out to it over the rocks at low water with his + fish-pole, there he was content to sit and observe the world; and there he + saw a great deal of life. He always expected to catch the legendary trout + which weighed two pounds and was believed to inhabit that pool. He always + did catch horned dace and shiners, which he despised, and sometimes he + snared a monstrous sucker a foot and a half long. But in the summer the + sucker is a flabby fish, and John was not thanked for bringing him home. + He liked, however, to lie with his face close to the water and watch the + long fishes panting in the clear depths, and occasionally he would drop a + pebble near one to see how gracefully he would scud away with one wave of + the tail into deeper water. Nothing fears the little brown boy. The + yellow-bird slants his wings, almost touches the deep water before him, + and then escapes away under the bridge to the east with a glint of + sunshine on his back; the fish-hawk comes down with a swoop, dips one + wing, and, his prey having darted under a stone, is away again over the + still hill, high soaring on even-poised pinions, keeping an eye perhaps + upon the great eagle which is sweeping the sky in widening circles. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0246}.jpg" alt="{0246}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0246}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + But there is other life. A wagon rumbles over the bridge, and the farmer + and his wife, jogging along, do not know that they have startled a lazy + boy into a momentary fancy that a thunder-shower is coming up. John can + see as he lies there on a still summer day, with the fishes and the birds + for company, the road that comes down the left bank of the river,—a + hot, sandy, well-traveled road, hidden from view here and there by trees + and bushes. The chief point of interest, however, is an enormous + sycamore-tree by the roadside and in front of John's house. The house is + more than a century old, and its timbers were hewed and squared by Captain + Moses Rice (who lies in his grave on the hillside above it), in the + presence of the Red Man who killed him with arrow and tomahawk some time + after his house was set in order. The gigantic tree, struck with a sort of + leprosy, like all its species, appears much older, and of course has its + tradition. They say that it grew from a green stake which the first + land-surveyor planted there for one of his points of sight. John was + reminded of it years after when he sat under the shade of the decrepit + lime-tree in Freiburg and was told that it was originally a twig which the + breathless and bloody messenger carried in his hand when he dropped + exhausted in the square with the word “Victory!” on his lips, announcing + thus the result of the glorious battle of Morat, where the Swiss in 1476 + defeated Charles the Bold. Under the broad but scanty shade of the great + button-ball tree (as it was called) stood an old watering-trough, with its + half-decayed penstock and well-worn spout pouring forever cold, sparkling + water into the overflowing trough. It is fed by a spring near by, and the + water is sweeter and colder than any in the known world, unless it be the + well Zem-zem, as generations of people and horses which have drunk of it + would testify, if they could come back. And if they could file along this + road again, what a procession there would be riding down the valley!—antiquated + vehicles, rusty wagons adorned with the invariable buffalo-robe even in + the hottest days, lean and long-favored horses, frisky colts, drawing, + generation after generation, the sober and pious saints, that passed this + way to meeting and to mill. + </p> + <p> + What a refreshment is that water-spout! All day long there are pilgrims to + it, and John likes nothing better than to watch them. Here comes a gray + horse drawing a buggy with two men,—cattle buyers, probably. Out + jumps a man, down goes the check-rein. What a good draught the nag takes! + Here comes a long-stepping trotter in a sulky; man in a brown linen coat + and wide-awake hat,—dissolute, horsey-looking man. They turn up, of + course. Ah, there is an establishment he knows well: a sorrel horse and an + old chaise. The sorrel horse scents the water afar off, and begins to turn + up long before he reaches the trough, thrusting out his nose in + anticipation of the coot sensation. No check to let down; he plunges his + nose in nearly to his eyes in his haste to get at it. Two maiden ladies—unmistakably + such, though they appear neither “anxious nor aimless”—within the + scoop-top smile benevolently on the sorrel back. It is the deacon's horse, + a meeting-going nag, with a sedate, leisurely jog as he goes; and these + are two of the “salt of the earth,”—the brevet rank of the women who + stand and wait,—going down to the village store to dicker. There + come two men in a hurry, horse driven up smartly and pulled up short; but + as it is rising ground, and the horse does not easily reach the water with + the wagon pulling back, the nervous man in the buggy hitches forward on + his seat, as if that would carry the wagon a little ahead! Next, + lumber-wagon with load of boards; horse wants to turn up, and driver + switches him and cries “G'lang,” and the horse reluctantly goes by, + turning his head wistfully towards the flowing spout. Ah, here comes an + equipage strange to these parts, and John stands up to look; an elegant + carriage and two horses; trunks strapped on behind; gentleman and boy on + front seat and two ladies on back seat,—city people. The gentleman + descends, unchecks the horses, wipes his brow, takes a drink at the spout + and looks around, evidently remarking upon the lovely view, as he swings + his handkerchief in an explanatory manner. Judicious travelers. John would + like to know who they are. Perhaps they are from Boston, whence come all + the wonderfully painted peddlers' wagons drawn by six stalwart horses, + which the driver, using no rein, controls with his long whip and cheery + voice. If so, great is the condescension of Boston; and John follows them + with an undefined longing as they drive away toward the mountains of Zoar. + Here is a footman, dusty and tired, who comes with lagging steps. He + stops, removes his hat, as he should to such a tree, puts his mouth to the + spout, and takes a long pull at the lively water. And then he goes on, + perhaps to Zoar, perhaps to a worse place. + </p> + <p> + So they come and go all the summer afternoon; but the great event of the + day is the passing down the valley of the majestic stage-coach,—the + vast yellow-bodied, rattling vehicle. John can hear a mile off the shaking + of chains, traces, and whiffle-trees, and the creaking of its leathern + braces, as the great bulk swings along piled high with trunks. It + represents to John, somehow, authority, government, the right of way; the + driver is an autocrat, everybody must make way for the stage-coach. It + almost satisfies the imagination, this royal vehicle; one can go in it to + the confines of the world,—to Boston and to Albany. + </p> + <p> + There were other influences that I daresay contributed to the boy's + education. I think his imagination was stimulated by a band of gypsies who + used to come every summer and pitch a tent on a little roadside patch of + green turf by the river-bank not far from his house. It was shaded by elms + and butternut-trees, and a long spit of sand and pebbles ran out from it + into the brawling stream. Probably they were not a very good kind of + gypsy, although the story was that the men drank and beat the women. John + didn't know much about drinking; his experience of it was confined to + sweet cider; yet he had already set himself up as a reformer, and joined + the Cold Water Band. The object of this Band was to walk in a procession + under a banner that declared, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “So here we pledge perpetual hate + To all that can intoxicate;” + </pre> + <p> + and wear a badge with this legend, and above it the device of a well-curb + with a long sweep. It kept John and all the little boys and girls from + being drunkards till they were ten or eleven years of age; though perhaps + a few of them died meantime from eating loaf-cake and pie and drinking + ice-cold water at the celebrations of the Band. + </p> + <p> + The gypsy camp had a strange fascination for John, mingled of curiosity + and fear. Nothing more alien could come into the New England life than + this tatterdemalion band. It was hardly credible that here were actually + people who lived out-doors, who slept in their covered wagon or under + their tent, and cooked in the open air; it was a visible romance + transferred from foreign lands and the remote times of the story-books; + and John took these city thieves, who were on their annual foray into the + country, trading and stealing horses and robbing hen-roosts and + cornfields, for the mysterious race who for thousands of years have done + these same things in all lands, by right of their pure blood and ancient + lineage. John was afraid to approach the camp when any of the scowling and + villainous men were lounging about, pipes in mouth; but he took more + courage when only women and children were visible. The swarthy, + black-haired women in dirty calico frocks were anything but attractive, + but they spoke softly to the boy, and told his fortune, and wheedled him + into bringing them any amount of cucumbers and green corn in the course of + the season. In front of the tent were planted in the ground three poles + that met together at the top, whence depended a kettle. This was the + kitchen, and it was sufficient. The fuel for the fire was the driftwood of + the stream. John noted that it did not require to be sawed into + stove-lengths; and, in short, that the “chores” about this establishment + were reduced to the minimum. And an older person than John might envy the + free life of these wanderers, who paid neither rent nor taxes, and yet + enjoyed all the delights of nature. It seemed to the boy that affairs + would go more smoothly in the world if everybody would live in this simple + manner. Nor did he then know, or ever after find out, why it is that the + world permits only wicked people to be Bohemians. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0257}.jpg" alt="{0257}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0257}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. A CONTRAST TO THE NEW ENGLAND BOY + </h2> + <p> + One evening at vespers in Genoa, attracted by a burst of music from the + swinging curtain of the doorway, I entered a little church much frequented + by the common people. An unexpected and exceedingly pretty sight rewarded + me. + </p> + <p> + It was All Souls' Day. In Italy almost every day is set apart for some + festival, or belongs to some saint or another, and I suppose that when + leap year brings around the extra day, there is a saint ready to claim the + 29th of February. Whatever the day was to the elders, the evening was + devoted to the children. The first thing I noticed was, that the quaint + old church was lighted up with innumerable wax tapers,—an uncommon + sight, for the darkness of a Catholic church in the evening is usually + relieved only by a candle here and there, and by a blazing pyramid of them + on the high altar. The use of gas is held to be a vulgar thing all over + Europe, and especially unfit for a church or an aristocratic palace. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0261}.jpg" alt="{0261}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0261}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Then I saw that each taper belonged to a little boy or girl, and the + groups of children were scattered all about the church. There was a group + by every side altar and chapel, all the benches were occupied by knots of + them, and there were so many circles of them seated on the pavement that I + could with difficulty make my way among them. There were hundreds of + children in the church, all dressed in their holiday apparel, and all + intent upon the illumination, which seemed to be a private affair to each + one of them. + </p> + <p> + And not much effect had their tapers upon the darkness of the vast vaults + above them. The tapers were little spiral coils of wax, which the children + unrolled as fast as they burned, and when they were tired of holding them, + they rested them on the ground and watched the burning. I stood some time + by a group of a dozen seated in a corner of the church. They had massed + all the tapers in the center and formed a ring about the spectacle, + sitting with their legs straight out before them and their toes turned up. + The light shone full in their happy faces, and made the group, enveloped + otherwise in darkness, like one of Correggio's pictures of children or + angels. Correggio was a famous Italian artist of the sixteenth century, + who painted cherubs like children who were just going to heaven, and + children like cherubs who had just come out of it. But then, he had the + Italian children for models, and they get the knack of being lovely very + young. An Italian child finds it as easy to be pretty as an American child + to be good. + </p> + <p> + One could not but be struck with the patience these little people + exhibited in their occupation, and the enjoyment they got out of it. There + was no noise; all conversed in subdued whispers and behaved in the most + gentle manner to each other, especially to the smallest, and there were + many of them so small that they could only toddle about by the most + judicious exercise of their equilibrium. I do not say this by way of + reproof to any other kind of children. + </p> + <p> + These little groups, as I have said, were scattered all about the church; + and they made with their tapers little spots of light, which looked in the + distance very much like Correggio's picture which is at Dresden,—the + Holy Family at Night, and the light from the Divine Child blazing in the + faces of all the attendants. Some of the children were infants in the + nurses' arms, but no one was too small to have a taper, and to run the + risk of burning its fingers. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing that a baby likes more than a lighted candle, and the + church has understood this longing in human nature, and found means to + gratify it by this festival of tapers. + </p> + <p> + The groups do not all remain long in place, you may imagine; there is a + good deal of shifting about, and I see little stragglers wandering over + the church, like fairies lighted by fireflies. Occasionally they form a + little procession and march from one altar to another, their lights + twinkling as they go. + </p> + <p> + But all this time there is music pouring out of the organ-loft at the end + of the church, and flooding all its spaces with its volume. In front of + the organ is a choir of boys, led by a round-faced and jolly monk, who + rolls about as he sings, and lets the deep bass noise rumble about a long + time in his stomach before he pours it out of his mouth. I can see the + faces of all of them quite well, for each singer has a candle to light his + music-book. + </p> + <p> + And next to the monk stands the boy,—the handsomest boy in the whole + world probably at this moment. I can see now his great, liquid, dark eyes, + and his exquisite face, and the way he tossed back his long waving hair + when he struck into his part. He resembled the portraits of Raphael, when + that artist was a boy; only I think he looked better than Raphael, and + without trying, for he seemed to be a spontaneous sort of boy. And how + that boy did sing! He was the soprano of the choir, and he had a voice of + heavenly sweetness. When he opened his mouth and tossed back his head, he + filled the church with exquisite melody. + </p> + <p> + He sang like a lark, or like an angel. As we never heard an angel sing, + that comparison is not worth much. I have seen pictures of angels singing, + there is one by Jan and Hubert Van Eyck in the gallery at Berlin,—and + they open their mouths like this boy, but I can't say as much for their + singing. The lark, which you very likely never heard either, for larks are + as scarce in America as angels,—is a bird that springs up from the + meadow and begins to sing as he rises in a spiral flight, and the higher + he mounts, the sweeter he sings, until you think the notes are dropping + out of heaven itself, and you hear him when he is gone from sight, and you + think you hear him long after all sound has ceased. + </p> + <p> + And yet this boy sang better than a lark, because he had more notes and a + greater compass and more volume, although he shook out his voice in the + same gleesome abundance. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0265}.jpg" alt="{0265}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0265}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + I am sorry that I cannot add that this ravishingly beautiful boy was a + good boy. He was probably one of the most mischievous boys that was ever + in an organ-loft. All the time that he was singing the vespers he was + skylarking like an imp. While he was pouring out the most divine melody, + he would take the opportunity of kicking the shins of the boy next to him, + and while he was waiting for his part, he would kick out behind at any one + who was incautious enough to approach him. There never was such a vicious + boy; he kept the whole loft in a ferment. When the monk rumbled his bass + in his stomach, the boy cut up monkey-shines that set every other boy into + a laugh, or he stirred up a row that set them all at fisticuffs. + </p> + <p> + And yet this boy was a great favorite. The jolly monk loved him best of + all and bore with his wildest pranks. When he was wanted to sing his part + and was skylarking in the rear, the fat monk took him by the ear and + brought him forward; and when he gave the boy's ear a twist, the boy + opened his lovely mouth and poured forth such a flood of melody as you + never heard. And he did n't mind his notes; he seemed to know his notes by + heart, and could sing and look off like a nightingale on a bough. He knew + his power, that boy; and he stepped forward to his stand when he pleased, + certain that he would be forgiven as soon as he began to sing. And such + spirit and life as he threw into the performance, rollicking through the + Vespers with a perfect abandon of carriage, as if he could sing himself + out of his skin if he liked. + </p> + <p> + While the little angels down below were pattering about with their wax + tapers, keeping the holy fire burning, suddenly the organ stopped, the + monk shut his book with a bang, the boys blew out the candles, and I heard + them all tumbling down-stairs in a gale of noise and laughter. The + beautiful boy I saw no more. + </p> + <p> + About him plays the light of tender memory; but were he twice as lovely, I + could never think of him as having either the simple manliness or the good + fortune of the New England boy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Being a Boy, by Charles Dudley Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEING A BOY *** + +***** This file should be named 3127-h.htm or 3127-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/2/3127/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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