the poet at the breakfast table-第5部分

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themselves　against　sky　in　thick　clustered　masses　the　ornament　and　the
pride　of　the　classic　green。　　You　know　the　〃Washington　elm；〃　or　if　you
do　not；　you　had　better　rekindle　our　patriotism　by　reading　the
inscription；　which　tells　you　that　under　its　shadow　the　great　leader
first　drew　his　sword　at　the　head　of　an　American　army。　　In　a　line　with
that　you　may　see　two　others：　the　coral　fan；　as　I　always　called　it
from　its　resemblance　in　form　to　that　beautiful　marine　growth；　and　a
third　a　little　farther　along。　　I　have　heard　it　said　that　all　three
were　planted　at　the　same　time；　and　that　the　difference　of　their
growth　is　due　to　the　slope　of　the　ground；the　Washington　elm　being
lower　than　either　of　the　others。　　There　is　a　row　of　elms　just　in
front　of　the　old　house　on　the　south。　　When　I　was　a　child　the　one　at
the　southwest　corner　was　struck　by　lightning；　and　one　of　its　limbs
and　a　long　ribbon　of　bark　torn　away。　　The　tree　never　fully　recovered
its　symmetry　and　vigor；　and　forty　years　and　more　afterwards　a　second
thunderbolt　crashed　upon　it　and　set　its　heart　on　fire；　like　those　of
the　lost　souls　in　the　Hall　of　Eblis。　　Heaven　had　twice　blasted　it；
and　the　axe　finished　what　the　lightning　had　begun。

The　soil　of　the　University　town　is　divided　into　patches　of　sandy　and
of　clayey　ground。　　The　Common　and　the　College　green；　near　which　the
old　house　stands；　are　on　one　of　the　sandy　patches。　　Four　curses　are
the　local　inheritance：　droughts；　dust；　mud；　and　canker…worms。　　I
cannot　but　think　that　all　the　characters　of　a　region　help　to　modify
the　children　born　in　it。　　I　am　fond　of　making　apologies　for　human
nature；　and　I　think　I　could　find　an　excuse　for　myself　if　I；　too；　were
dry　and　barren　and　muddy…witted　and　〃cantankerous；〃disposed　to　get
my　back　up；　like　those　other　natives　of　the　soil。

I　know　this；　that　the　way　Mother　Earth　treats　a　boy　shapes　out　a　kind
of　natural　theology　for　him。　　I　fell　into　Manichean　ways　of　thinking
from　the　teaching　of　my　garden　experiences。　　Like　other　boys　in　the
country；　I　had　my　patch　of　ground；　to　which；　in　the　spring…time；　I
entrusted　the　seeds　furnished　me；　with　a　confident　trust　in　their
resurrection　and　glorification　in　the　better　world　of　summer。　　But　I
soon　found　that　my　lines　had　fallen　in　a　place　where　a　vegetable
growth　had　to　run　the　gauntlet　of　as　many　foes　and　dials　as　a
Christian　pilgrim。　　Flowers　would　not　Blow；　daffodils　perished　like
criminals　in　their　cone　demned　caps；　without　their　petals　ever　seeing
daylight；　roses　were　disfigured　with　monstrous　protrusions　〃through
their　very　centres；something　that　looked　like　a　second　bud　pushing
through　the　middle　of　the　corolla；　lettuces　and　cabbages　would　not
head；　radishes　knotted　themselves　until　they　looked　like
centenerians'　fingers；　and　on　every　stem；　on　every　leaf；　and　both
sides　of　it；　and　at　the　root　of　everything　that　dew；　was　a
professional　specialist　in　the　shape　of　grub；　caterpillar；　aphis；　or
other　expert；　whose　business　it　was　to　devour　that　particular　part；
and　help　order　the　whole　attempt　at　vegetation。　　Such　experiences
must　influence　a　child　born　to　them。　　A　sandy　soil；　where　nothing
flourishes　but　weeds　and　evil　beasts　of　small　dimensions；　must　breed
different　qualities　in　its　human　offspring　from　one　of　those　fat　and
fertile　spots　which　the　wit　whom　I　have　once　before　noted　described
so　happily　that；　if　I　quoted　the　passage；　its　brilliancy　would　spoil
one　of　my　pages；　as　a　diamond　breastpin　sometimes　kills　the　social
effect　of　the　wearer；　who　might　have　passed　for　a　gentleman　without
it。　　Your　arid　patch　of　earth　should　seem　to　the　natural　birthplace
of　the　leaner　virtues　and　the　abler　vices；of　temperance　and　the
domestic　proprieties　on　the　one　hand；　with　a　tendency　to　light
weights　in　groceries　and　provisions；　and　to　clandestine　abstraction
from　the　person　on　the　other；　as　opposed　to　the　free　hospitality；　the
broadly　planned　burglaries；　and　the　largely　conceived　homicides　of
our　rich　Western　alluvial　regions。　　Yet　Nature　is　never　wholly
unkind。　　Economical　as　she　was　in　my　unparadised　Eden；　hard　as　it　was
to　make　some　of　my　floral　houris　unveil；　still　the　damask　roses
sweetened　the　June　breezes；　the　bladed　and　plumed　flower…de…luces
unfolded　their　close…wrapped　cones；　and　larkspurs　and　lupins；　lady's
delights；plebeian　manifestations　of　the　pansy；　self…sowing
marigolds；　hollyhocks；　the　forest　flowers　of　two　seasons；　and　the
perennial　lilacs　and　syringas；　all　whispered　to'　the　winds　blowing
over　them　that　some　caressing　presence　was　around　me。

Beyond　the　garden　was　〃the　field；〃　a　vast　domain　of　four　acres　or
thereabout；　by　the　measurement　of　after　years；　bordered　to　the　north
by　a　fathomless　chasm；　the　ditch　the　base…ball　players　of　the
present　era　jump　over；　on　the　east　by　unexplored　territory；　on　the
south　by　a　barren　enclosure；　where　the　red　sorrel　proclaimed　liberty
and　equality　under　its　drapeau　rouge；　and　succeeded　in　establishing　a
vegetable　commune　where　all　were　alike；　poor；　mean；　sour；　and
uninteresting；　and　on　the　west　by　the　Common；　not　then　disgraced　by
jealous　enclosures；　which　make　it　look　like　a　cattle…market。　　Beyond；
as　I　looked　round；　were　the　Colleges；　the　meeting…house；　the　little
square　market…house；　long　vanished；　the　burial…ground　where　the　dead
Presidents　stretched　their　weary　bones　under　epitaphs　stretched　out
at　as　full　length　as　their　subjects；　the　pretty　church　where　the
gouty　Tories　used　to　kneel　on　their　hassocks；　the　district
schoolhouse；　and　hard　by　it　Ma'am　Hancock's　cottage；　never　so　called
in　those　days；　but　rather　〃tenfooter〃；　then　houses　scattered　near　and
far；　open　spaces；　the　shadowy　elms；　round　hilltops　in　the　distance；
and　over　all　the　great　bowl　of　the　sky。　Mind　you；　this　was　the　WORLD；
as　I　first　knew　it；　terra　veteribus　cognita；　as　Mr。　Arrowsmith　would
have　called　it；　if　he　had　mapped　the　universe　of　my　infancy：

But　I　am　forgetting　the　old　house　again　in　the　landscape。　　The　worst
of　a　modern　stylish　mansion　is；　that　it　has　no　place　for　ghosts。　　I
watched　one　building　not　long　since。　　It　had　no　proper　garret；　to
begin　with；　only　a　sealed　interval　between　the　roof　and　attics；　where
a　spirit　could　not　be　accommodated；　unless　it　were　flattened　out　like
Ravel；　Brother；　after　the　millstone　had　fallen　on　him。　　There　was　not
a　nook　or　a　corner　in　the　whole　horse　fit　to　lodge　any　respectable
ghost；　for　every　part　was　as　open　to　observation　as　a　literary　man's
character　and　condition；　his　figure　and　estate；　his　coat　and　his
countenance；　are　to　his　（or　her）　Bohemian　Majesty　on　a　tour　of
inspection　through　his　（or　her）　subjects'　keyholes。

Now　the　old　house　had　wainscots；　behind　which　the　mice　were　always
scampering　and　squeaking　and　rattling　down　the　plaster；　and　enacting
family　scenes　and　parlor　theatricals。　　It　had　a　cellar　where　the　cold
slug　clung　to　the　walls；　and　the　misanthropic　spider　withdrew　from
the　garish　day；　where　the　green　mould　loved　to　grow；　and　the　long
white　potato…shoots　went　feeling　along　the　floor；　if　haply　they　might
find　the　daylight；　it　had　great　brick　pillars；　always　in　a　cold　sweat
with　holding　up　the　burden　they　had　been　aching　under　day　and　night
far　a　century　and　more；　it　had　sepulchral　arches　closed　by　rough
doors　that　hung　on　hinges　rotten　with　rust；　behind　which　doors；　if
there　was　not　a　heap　of　bones　connected　with　a　mysterious
disappearance　of　long　ago；　there　well　might　have　been；　for　it　was
just　the　place　to　look　for　them。　　It　had　a　garret；　very　nearly　such　a
one　as　it　seems　to　me　one　of　us　has　described　in　one　of　his　books；
but　let　us　look　at　this　one　as　I　can　reproduce　it　from　memory。　　It
has　a　flooring　of　laths　with　ridges　of　mortar　squeezed　up　between
them；　which　if　you　tread　on　you　will　go　tothe　Lord　have　mercy　on
you！　where　will　you　go　to？the　same　being　crossed　by　narrow　bridges
of　boards；　on　which　you　may　put　your　feet；　but　with　fear　and
trembling。　　Above　you　and　around　you　are　beams　and　joists；　on　some　of
which　you　may　see；　when　the　light　is　let　in；　the　marks　of　the
conchoidal　clippings　of　the　broadaxe；　showing　the　rude　way　in　which
the　timber　was　shaped　as　it　came；　full　of　sap；　from　the　neighboring
forest。　　It　is　a　realm　of　darkness　and　thick　dust；　and　shroud…like
cobwebs　and　dead　things　they　wrap　in　their　gray　folds。　　For　a　garret
is　like　a　seashore；　where　wrecks　are　thrown　up　and　slowly　go　to
pieces。　　There　is　the　cradle　which　the　old　man　you　just　remember　was
rocked　in；　there　is　the　ruin　of　the　bedstead　he　died　on；　that　ugly
slanting　contrivance　used　to　be　put　under　his　pillow　in　the　days　when
his　breath　came　hard；　there　is　his　old　chair　with　both　arms　gone；
symbol　of　the　desolate　time　when　he　had　nothing　earthly　left　to　lean
on；　there　is　the　large　wooden　reel　which　the　blear…eyed　old　deacon
sent　the　minister's　lady；　who　thanked　him　graciously；　and　twirled　it
smilingly；　and　in　fitting　season　bowed　it　out　decently　to　the　limbo
of　troublesome　conveniences。　　And　there　are　old　leather　portmanteaus；
like　stranded　porpoises；　their　mouths　gaping　in　gaunt　hunger　for　the
food　with　which　they　used　to　be　gorged　to　bulging　repletion；　and　old
brass　andirons；　waiting　until　time　shall　revenge　them　on　their　paltry
substitutes；　and　they　shall　have　their　own