a new england girlhood-第11部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

they　could　make　me　feel　so　badly　again。　But　my　good　angel　hid　them　from　me；　I　never　found　them。

I　was　too　much　of　a　coward　to　confess　my　fault　to　my　father；　I　had　already　begun　to　think　of　him　as　〃an　austere　man；〃　like　him　in　the　parable　of　the　talents。　I　should　have　been　a　much　happier　child　if　I　bad　confessed；　for　I　had　to　carry　about　with　me　for　weeks　and　months　a　heavy　burden　of　shame。　I　thought　of　myself　as　a　thief；　and　used　to　dream　of　being　carried　off　to　jail　and　condemned　to　the　gallows　for　my　offense：　one　of　my　story…books　told　about　a　boy　who　was　hanged　at　Tyburn　for　stealing；　and　how　was　I　better　than　he？

Whatever　naughtiness　I　was　guilty　of　afterwards；　I　never　again　wanted　to　take　what　belonged　to　another；　whether　in　the　family　or　out　of　it。　I　hated　the　sight　of　the　little　sugar　horseback　rider　from　that　day；　and　was　thankful　enough　when　some　other　child　had　bought　him　and　left　his　place　in　the　window　vacant。

About　this　time　I　used　to　lie　awake　nights　a　good　deal；　wondering　what　became　of　infants　who　were　wicked。　I　had　heard　it　said　that　all　who　died　in　infancy　went　to　heaven；　but　it　was　also　said　that　those　who　sinned　could　not　possibly　go　to　heaven。　I　understood；　from　talks　I　had　listened　to　among　older　people；　that　infancy　lasted　until　children　were　about　twelve　years　of　age。　Yet　here　was　I；　an　infant　of　less　than　six　years；　who　had　committed　a　sin。　I　did　not　know　what　to　do　with　my　own　case。　I　doubted　whether　it　would　do　any　good　for　me　to　pray　to　be　forgiven；　but　I　did　pray；　because　I　could　not　help　it；　though　not　aloud。　I　believe　I　preferred　thinking　my　prayers　to　saying　them；　almost　always。

Inwardly；　I　objected　to　the　idea　of　being　an　infant；　it　seemed　to　me　like　being　nothing　in　particularneither　a　child　nor　a　little　girl；　neither　a　baby　nor　a　woman。　Having　discovered　that　I　was　capable　of　being　wicked；　I　thought　it　would　be　better　if　I　could　grow　up　at　once；　and　assume　my　own　responsibilities。　It　quite　demoralized　me　when　people　talked　in　my　presence　about　〃innocent　little　children。〃

There　was　much　questioning　in　those　days　as　to　whether　fictitious　reading　was　good　for　children。　To　〃tell　a　story〃　was　one　equivalent　expression　for　lying。　　But　those　who　came　nearest　to　my　child…life　recognized　the　value　of　truth　as　impressed　through　the　imagination；　and　left　me　in　delightful　freedom　among　my　fairy…tale　books。　I　think　I　saw　a　difference；　from　the　first；　between　the　old　poetic　legends　and　a　modern　lie；　especially　if　this　latter　was　the　invention　of　a　fancy　as　youthful　as　my　own。

I　supposed　that　the　beings　of　those　imaginative　tales　had　lived　some　time；　somewhere；　perhaps　they　still　existed　in　foreign　countries；　which　were　all　a　realm　of　fancy　to　me。　I　was　certain　that　they　could　not　inhabit　our　matter…of…fact　neighborhood。　I　had　never　heard　that　any　fairies　or　elves　came　over　with　the　Pilgrims　in　the　Mayflower。　But　a　little　red…haired　playmate　with　whom　I　became　intimate　used　to　take　me　off　with　her　into　the　fields；　where；　sitting；　on　the　edge　of　a　disused　cartway　fringed　with　pussy…clover；　she　poured　into　my　ears　the　most　remarkable　narratives　of　acquaintances　she　had　made　with　people　who　lived　under　the　ground　close　by　us；　in　my　fatber's　orchard。　Her　literal　descriptions　quite　deceived　me；　I　swallowed　her　stories　entire；　just　as　people　in　the　last　century　did　Defoe's　account　of　〃The　Apparition　of　Mrs。　Veal。〃

She　said　that　these　subterranean　people　kept　house；　and　that　they　invited　her　down　to　play　with　their　children　on　Wednesday　and　Saturday　afternoons；　also　that　they　sometimes　left　a　plate　of　cakes　and　tarts　for　her　at　their　door：　she　offered　to　show　me　the　very　spot　where　it　was；under　a　great　apple…tree　which　my　brothers　called　〃the　luncheon…tree；〃　because　we　used　to　rest　and　refresh　ourselves　there；　when　we　helped　my　father　weed　his　vegetable…garden。　But　she　guarded　herself　by　informing　me　that　it　would　be　impossible　for　us　to　open　the　door　ourselves；　that　it　could　only　be　unfastened　from　the　inside。　She　told　me　these　people's　namesa　〃Mr。　Pelican；〃　and　a　〃Mr。　Apple…tree　Manasseh；〃　who　had　a　very　large　family　of　little　〃Manassehs。〃　She　said　that　there　was　a　still　larger　family；　some　of　them　probably　living　just　under　the　spot　where　we　sat；　whose　sirname　was　〃Hokes。〃　（If　either　of　us　had　been　familiar　with　another　word　pronounced　in　the　same　way；　though　spelled　differently；　I　should　since　have　thought　that　she　was　all　the　time　laughing　in　her　sleeve　at　my　easy　belief。）　These　〃Hokeses〃　were　not　good…natured　people；　she　added；　whispering　to　me　that　we　must　not　speak　about　them　aloud；　as　they　had　sharp　ears；　and　might　overhear　us；　and　do　us　mischief。

I　think　she　was　hoaxing　herself　as　well　as　me；　it　was　her　way　of　being　a　heroine　in　her　own　eyes　and　mine；　and　she　had　always　the　manner　of　being　entirely　in　earnest。

But　she　became　more　and　more　romantic　in　her　inventions。　A　distant　aristocratic…looking　mansion；　which　we　could　see　half…　hidden　by　trees；　across　the　river；　she　assured　me　was　a　haunted　house；　and　that　she　had　passed　many　a　night　there；　seeing　unaccountable　sights；　and　hearing　mysterious　sounds。　She　further　announced　that　she　was　to　be　married；　some　time；　to　a　young　man　who　lived　over　there。　I　inferred　that　the　marriage　was　to　take　place　whenever　the　ghostly　tenants　of　the　house　would　give　their　consent。　She　revealed　to　me；　under　promise　of　strict　secrecy；　the　young　man's　name。　It　was　〃Alonzo。〃

Not　long　after　I　picked　up　a　book　which　one　of　my　sisters　had　borrowed；　called　〃Alonzo　and　Melissa；〃　and　I　discovered　that　she　had　been　telling　me　page　after　page　of　〃Melissa's〃　adventures；　as　if　they　were　her　own。　The　fading　memory　I　have　of　the　book　is　that　it　was　a　very　silly　one；　and　when　I　discovered　that　the　rest　of　the　romantic　occurrences　she　had　related；　not　in　that　volume；　were　to　be　found　in　〃The　Children　of　the　Abbey；〃　I　left　off　listening　to　her。　I　do　not　think　I　regarded　her　stories　as　lies；　I　only　lost　my　interest　in　them　after　I　knew　that　they　were　all　of　her　own　clumsy　second…hand　making…up；　out　of　the　most　commonplace　material。

My　two　brothers　liked　to　play　upon　my　credulity。　When　my　brother　Ben　pointed　up　to　the　gilded　weather…cock　on　the　Old　South　steeple；　and　said　to　me　with　a　very　grave　face；

〃Did　you　know　that　whenever　that　cock　crows　every　rooster　in　town　crows　too？〃　I　listened　out　at　the　window；　and　asked；

〃But　when　will　he　begin　to　crow？〃

〃Oh；　roosters　crow　in　the　night；　sometimes；　when　you　are　asleep。〃

Then　my　younger　brother　would　break　in　with　a　shout　of　delight　at　my　stupidity：

〃I'll　tell　you　when；　goosie！

'The　next　day　after　never；　When　the　dead　ducks　fly　over　the　river。'〃

But　this　must　have　been　when　I　was　very　small；　for　I　remember　thinking　that　〃the　next　day　after　never〃　would　come　some　time；　in　millions　of　years；　perhaps。　And　how　queer　it　would　be　to　see　dead　ducks　flying　through　the　air！

Witches　were　seldom　spoken　of　in　the　presence　of　us　children。　We　sometimes　overheard　a　snatch　of　a　witch…story；　told　in　whispers；　by　the　flickering　firelight；　just　as　we　were　being　sent　off　to　bed。　But；　to　the　older　people；　those　legends　were　too　much　like　realities；　and　they　preferred　not　to　repeat　them。　Indeed；　it　was　over　our　town　that　the　last　black　shadow　of　the　dreadful　witchcraft　delusion　had　rested。　Mistress　Hale's　house　was　just　across　the　burying…ground；　and　Gallows　Hill　was　only　two　miles　away；　beyond　the　bridge。　Yet　I　never　really　knew　what　the　〃Salem　Witchcraft〃　was　until　Goodrich's　〃History　of　the　United　States〃　was　put　into　my　hands　as　a　schoolbook；　and　I　read　about　it　there。

Elves　and　gnomes　and　air…sprites　and　genii　were　no　strangers　to　us；　for　my　sister　Emilieshe　who　heard　me　say　my　hymns；　and　taught　me　to　writewas　mistress　of　an　almost　limitless　fund　of　imaginative　lore。　She　was　a　very　Scheherezade　of　story…tellers；　so　her　younger　sisters　thought；　who　listened　to　her　while　twilight　grew　into　moonlight；　evening　after　evening；　with　fasci…　nated　wakefulness。

Besides　the　tales　that　the　child…world　of　all　ages　is　familiar　with；Red　Riding…Hood；　the　Giant…Killer；　Cinderella；　Aladdin；　the　〃Sleeping　Beauty；〃　and　the　rest；she　had　picked　up　somewhere　most　of　the　folk…stories　of　Ireland　and　Scotland；　and　also　the　wild　legends　of　Germany；　which　latter　were　not　then　made　into　the　compact　volumes　known　among　juvenile　readers　of　to…day　as　Grimm's　〃Household　Tales。〃

Her　choice　was　usually　judicious；　she　omitted　the　ghosts　and　goblins　that　would　have　haunted　our　dreams；　although　I　was　now　and　then　visited　by　a　nightmare…consciousness　of　being　a　bewitched　princess　who　must　perform　some　impossible　task；　such　as　turning　a　whole　roomful　of　straws　into　gold；　one　by　one；　or　else　lose　my　head。　But　she　blended　the　humorous　with　the　romantic　in　her　selections；　so　that　we　usually　dropped　to　sleep　in　good　spirits；　if　not　with　a　laugh。

That　old　story　of　the　fisherman　who　had　done　the　〃Man　of　the　Sea〃　a　favor；　and　was　to　be　rewarded　by　having　his　wish　granted；　she　told　in　so　quaintly　realistic　a　way　that　I　thought　it　might　all　have　happened　on　one　of　the　islands　out　in　Massachusetts　Bay。　The　fisherman　was　foolish　enough；　it　seemed；　to　let　his　wife　do　all　his　wishing　for　him；　and　she；　unsatisfied　still；　though　she　had　been　made　first　an　immensely