the poet at the breakfast table-第10部分

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had　burst　its　bodice；　and

You　are　right；　it　is　too　true！　　but　how　I　love　these　pretty
phrases！　　I　am　afraid　I　am　becoming　an　epicure　in　words；　which　is　a
bad　thing　to　be；　unless　it　is　dominated　by　something　infinitely
better　than　itself。　　But　there　is　a　fascination　in　the　mere　sound　of
articulated　breath；　of　consonants　that　resist　with　the　firmness　of　a
maid　of　honor；　or　half　or　wholly　yield　to　the　wooing　lips；　of　vowels
that　flow　and　murmur；　each　after　its　kind；　the　peremptory　b　and　p；
the　brittle　k；　the　vibrating　r；　the　insinuating　s；　the　feathery　f；
the　velvety　v；　the　bell…voiced　m；　the　tranquil　broad　a；　the
penetrating　e；　the　cooing　u；　the　emotional　o；　and　the　beautiful
combinations　of　alternate　rock　and　stream；　as　it　were；　that　they　give
to　the　rippling　flow　of　speech；there　is　a　fascination　in　the
skilful　handling　of　these；　which　the　great　poets　and　even　prose…
writers　have　not　disdained　to　acknowledge　and　use　to　recommend　their
thought。　　What　do　you　say　to　this　line　of　Homer　as　a　piece　of
poetical　full…band　music？　　I　know　you　read　the　Greek　characters　with
perfect　ease；　but　permit　me；　just　for　my　own　satisfaction；　to　put　it
into　English　letters：

　　　　　　　　　　Aigle　pamphanoosa　di'　aitheros　ouranon　ike！

as　if　he　should　have　spoken　in　our　poorer　phrase　of


　　　　　　　　　　Splendor　far　shining　through　ether　to　heaven　ascending。

That　Greek　line；　which　I　do　not　remember　having　heard　mention　of　as
remarkable；　has　nearly　every　consonantal　and　vowel　sound　in　the
language。　　Try　it　by　the　Greek　and　by　the　English　alphabet；　it　is　a
curiosity。　　Tell　me　that　old　Homer　did　not　roll　his　sightless
eyeballs　about　with　delight；　as　he　thundered　out　these　ringing
syllables！　　It　seems　hard　to　think　of　his　going　round　like　a　hand…
organ　man；　with　such　music　and　such　thought　as　his　to　earn　his　bread
with。　　One　can't　help　wishing　that　Mr。　Pugh　could　have　got　at　him　for
a　single　lecture；　at　least；　of　the　〃Star　Course；〃　or　that　he　could
have　appeared　in　the　Music　Hall；　〃for　this　night　only。〃

I　know　I　have　rambled；　but　I　hope　you　see　that　this　is　a　delicate
way　of　letting　you　into　the　nature　of　the　individual　who　is；
officially；　the　principal　personage　at　our　table。　　It　would　hardly　do
to　describe　him　directly；　you　know。　　But　you　must　not　think；　because
the　lightning　zigzags；　it　does　not　know　where　to　strike。

I　shall　try　to　go　through　the　rest　of　my　description　of　our　boarders
with　as　little　of　digression　as　is　consistent　with　my　nature。　　I
think　we　have　a　somewhat　exceptional　company。　　Since　our　Landlady　has
got　up　in　the　world；　her　board　has　been　decidedly　a　favorite　with
persons　a　little　above　the　average　in　point　of　intelligence　and
education。　　In　fact；　ever　since　a　boarder　of　hers；　not　wholly　unknown
to　the　reading　public；　brought　her　establishment　into　notice；　it　has
attracted　a　considerable　number　of　literary　and　scientific　people；
and　now　and　then　a　politician；　like　the　Member　of　the　House　of
Representatives；　otherwise　called　the　Great　and　General　Court　of　the
State　of　Massachusetts。　　The　consequence　is；　that　there　is　more
individuality　of　character　than　in　a　good　many　similar
boardinghouses；　where　all　are　business…men；　engrossed　in　the　same
pursuit　of　money…making；　or　all　are　engaged　in　politics；　and　so
deeply　occupied　with　the　welfare　of　the　community　that　they　can　think
and　talk　of　little　else。

At　my　left　hand　sits　as　singular…looking　a　human　being　as　I　remember
seeing　outside　of　a　regular　museum　or　tent…show。　　His　black　coat
shines　as　if　it　had　been　polished；　and　it　has　been　polished　on　the
wearer's　back；　no　doubt；　for　the　arms　and　other　points　of　maximum
attrition　are　particularly　smooth　and　bright。　　Round　shoulders；
stooping　over　some　minute　labor；　I　suppose。　　Very　slender　limbs；　with
bends　like　a　grasshopper's；　sits　a　great　deal；　I　presume；　looks　as　if
he　might　straighten　them　out　all　of　a　sudden；　and　jump　instead　of
walking。　　Wears　goggles　very　commonly；　says　it　rests　his　eyes；　which
he　strains　in　looking　at　very　small　objects。　　Voice　has　a　dry　creak；
as　if　made　by　some　small　piece　of　mechanism　that　wanted　oiling。　　I
don't　think　he　is　a　botanist；　for　he　does　not　smell　of　dried　herbs；
but　carries　a　camphorated　atmosphere　about　with　him；　as　if　to　keep
the　moths　from　attacking　him。　　I　must　find　out　what　is　his　particular
interest。　　One　ought　to　know　something　about　his　immediate　neighbors
at　the　table。　　This　is　what　I　said　to　myself；　before　opening　a
conversation　with　him。　　Everybody　in　our　ward　of　the　city　was　in　a
great　stir　about　a　certain　election；　and　I　thought　I　might　as　well
begin　with　that　as　anything。

How　do　you　think　the　vote　is　likely　to　go　tomorrow？I　said。

It　isn't　to…morrow；he　answered；it　's　next　month。

Next　month！said　I。…Why；　what　election　do　you　mean？

I　mean　the　election　to　the　Presidency　of　the　Entomological　Society；
sir；he　creaked；　with　an　air　of　surprise；　as　if　nobody　could　by　any
possibility　have　been　thinking　of　any　other。　　Great　competition；　sir；
between　the　dipterists　and　the　lepidopterists　as　to　which　shall　get
in　their　candidate。　　Several　close　ballotings　already；　adjourned　for
a　fortnight。　　Poor　concerns；　both　of　'em。　　Wait　till　our　turn　comes。

I　suppose　you　are　an　entomologist？I　said　with　a　note　of
interrogation。

…Not　quite　so　ambitious　as　that；　sir。　　I　should　like　to　put　my　eyes
on　the　individual　entitled　to　that　name！　　A　society　may　call　itself
an　Entomological　Society；　but　the　man　who　arrogates　such　a　broad
title　as　that　to　himself；　in　the　present　state　of　science；　is　a
pretender；　sir；　a　dilettante；　an　impostor！　　No　man　can　be　truly
called　an　entomologist；　sir；　the　subject　is　too　vast　for　any　single
human　intelligence　to　grasp。

May　I　venture　to　ask；I　said；　a　little　awed　by　his　statement　and
manner；what　is　your　special　province　of　study？

I　am　often　spoken　of　as　a　Coleopterist；he　said；but　I　have　no
right　to　so　comprehensive　a　name。　　The　genus　Scarabaeus　is　what　I
have　chiefly　confined　myself　to；　and　ought　to　have　studied
exclusively。　　The　beetles　proper　；are　quite　enough　for　the　labor　of
one　man's　life。　　Call　me　a　Scarabaeist　if　you　will；　if　I　can　prove
myself　worthy　of　that　name；　my　highest　ambition　will　be　more　than
satisfied。

I　think；　by　way　of　compromise　and　convenience；　I　shall　call　him　the
Scarabee。　　He　has　come　to　look　wonderfully　like　those　creatures；the
beetles；　I　mean；…by　being　so　much　among　them。　　His　room　is　hung
round　with　cases　of　them；　each　impaled　on　a　pin　driven　through　him；
something　as　they　used　to　bury　suicides。　　These　cases　take　the　place
for　him　of　pictures　and　all　other　ornaments。　　That　Boy　steals　into
his　room　sometimes；　and　stares　at　them　with　great　admiration；　and　has
himself　undertaken　to　form　a　rival　cabinet；　chiefly　consisting　of
flies；　so　far；　arranged　in　ranks　superintended　by　an　occasional
spider。

The　old　Master；　who　is　a　bachelor；　has　a　kindly　feeling　for　this
little　monkey；　and　those　of　his　kind。

I　like　children；he　said　to　me　one　day　at　table；I　like　'em；　and
I　respect　'em。　　Pretty　much　all　the　honest　truth…telling　there　is　in
the　world　is　done　by　them。　　Do　you　know　they　play　the　part　in　the
household　which　the　king's　jester；　who　very　often　had　a　mighty　long
head　under　his　cap　and　bells；　used　to　play　for　a　monarch？　　There　's
no　radical　club　like　a　nest　of　little　folks　in　a　nursery。　　Did　you
ever　watch　a　baby's　fingers？　　I　have；　often　enough；　though　I　never
knew　what　it　was　to　own　one。…The　Master　paused　half　a　minute　or
so；sighed；perhaps　at　thinking　what　he　had　missed　in　life；looked
up　at　me　a　little　vacantly。　　I　saw　what　was　the　matter；　he　had　lost
the　thread　of　his　talk。

Baby's　fingers；I　intercalated。

…Yes；　yes；　did　you　ever　see　how　they　will　poke　those　wonderful　little
fingers　of　theirs　into　every　fold　and　crack　and　crevice　they　can　get
at？　　That　is　their　first　education；　feeling　their　way　into　the　solid
facts　of　the　material　world。　　When　they　begin　to　talk　it　is　the　same
thing　over　again　in　another　shape。　　If　there　is　a　crack　or　a　flaw　in
your　answer　to　their　confounded　shoulder…hitting　questions；　they　will
poke　and　poke　until　they　have　got　it　gaping　just　as　the　baby's
fingers　have　made　a　rent　out　of　that　atom　of　a　hole　in　his　pinafore
that　your　old　eyes　never　took　notice　of。　　Then　they　make　such　fools
of　us　by　copying　on　a　small　scale　what　we　do　in　the　grand　manner。　　I
wonder　if　it　ever　occurs　to　our　dried…up　neighbor　there　to　ask
himself　whether　That　Boy's　collection　of　flies　is　n't　about　as
significant　in　the　Order　of　Things　as　his　own　Museum　of　Beetles？

I　couldn't　help　thinking　that　perhaps　That　Boy's　questions　about
the　simpler　mysteries　of　life　might　have　a　good　deal　of　the　same　kind
of　significance　as　the　Master's　inquiries　into　the　Order　of　Things。

On　my　left；　beyond　my　next　neighbor　the　Scarabee；　at　the　end　of　the
table；　sits　a　person　of　whom　we　know　little；　except　that　he　carries
about　him　more　palpable　reminiscences　of　tobacco　and　the　allied
sources　of　comfort　than　a　very　sensitive　organization　might　find
acceptable。　　The　Master　does　not　seem　to　like　him　much；　for　some
reason　or　other；perhaps　he　has　a　special　aversion　to　the　odor　of
tobacco。　　As　his　forefinger　shows　a　little　too　distinctly　that