idle thoughts of an idle fellow-第20部分

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y　all　over　the　placewith　the　bits　of　old　blue　china　that　your　mother　prized；　and　the　screen　she　worked　in　those　far　by…gone　days；　when　the　sweet　old　face　was　laughing　and　young；　and　the　white　soft　hair　tumbled　in　gold…brown　curls　from　under　the　coal…scuttle　bonnet

Ah；　old　screen；　what　a　gorgeous　personage　you　must　have　been　in　your　young　days；　when　the　tulips　and　roses　and　lilies　（all　growing　from　one　stem）　were　fresh　in　their　glistening　sheen！　　Many　a　summer　and　winter　have　come　and　gone　since　then；　my　friend；　and　you　have　played　with　the　dancing　firelight　until　you　have　grown　sad　and　gray。　　Your　brilliant　colors　are　fast　fading　now；　and　the　envious　moths　have　gnawed　your　silken　threads。　　You　are　withering　away　like　the　dead　hands　that　wove　you。　　Do　you　ever　think　of　those　dead　hands？　　You　seem　so　grave　and　thoughtful　sometimes　that　I　almost　think　you　do。　　Come；　you　and　I　and　the　deep…glowing　embers；　let　us　talk　together。　　Tell　me　in　your　silent　language　what　you　remember　of　those　young　days；　when　you　lay　on　my　little　mother's　lap　and　her　girlish　fingers　played　with　your　rainbow　tresses。　　Was　there　never　a　lad　near　sometimesnever　a　lad　who　would　seize　one　of　those　little　hands　to　smother　it　with　kisses；　and　who　would　persist　in　holding　it；　thereby　sadly　interfering　with　the　progress　of　your　making？　　Was　not　your　frail　existence　often　put　in　jeopardy　by　this　same　clumsy；　headstrong　lad；　who　would　toss　you　disrespectfully　aside　that　henot　satisfied　with　onemight　hold　both　hands　and　gaze　up　into　the　loved　eyes？　　I　can　see　that　lad　now　through　the　haze　of　the　flickering　twilight。　　He　is　an　eager　bright…eyed　boy；　with　pinching；　dandy　shoes　and　tight…fitting　smalls；　snowy　shirt　frill　and　stock；　andoh！　such　curly　hair。　　A　wild；　light…hearted　boy！　　Can　he　be　the　great；　grave　gentleman　upon　whose　stick　I　used　to　ride　crosslegged；　the　care…worn　man　into　whose　thoughtful　face　I　used　to　gaze　with　childish　reverence　and　whom　I　used　to　call　〃father？〃　　You　say　〃yes；〃　old　screen；　but　are　you　quite　sure？　　It　is　a　serious　charge　you　are　bringing。　　Can　it　be　possible？　　Did　he　have　to　kneel　down　in　those　wonderful　smalls　and　pick　you　up　and　rearrange　you　before　he　was　forgiven　and　his　curly　head　smoothed　by　my　mother's　little　hand？　　Ah！　old　screen；　and　did　the　lads　and　the　lassies　go　making　love　fifty　years　ago　just　as　they　do　now？　　Are　men　and　women　so　unchanged？　　Did　little　maidens'　hearts　beat　the　same　under　pearl…embroidered　bodices　as　they　do　under　Mother　Hubbard　cloaks？　　Have　steel　casques　and　chimney…pot　hats　made　no　difference　to　the　brains　that　work　beneath　them？　　Oh；　Time！　great　Chronos！　and　is　this　your　power？　　Have　you　dried　up　seas　and　leveled　mountains　and　left　the　tiny　human　heart…strings　to　defy　you？　　Ah；　yes！　they　were　spun　by　a　Mightier　than　thou；　and　they　stretch　beyond　your　narrow　ken；　for　their　ends　are　made　fast　in　eternity。　　Ay；　you　may　mow　down　the　leaves　and　the　blossoms；　but　the　roots　of　life　lie　too　deep　for　your　sickle　to　sever。　　You　refashion　Nature's　garments；　but　you　cannot　vary　by　a　jot　the　throbbings　of　her　pulse。　　The　world　rolls　round　obedient　to　your　laws；　but　the　heart　of　man　is　not　of　your　kingdom；　for　in　its　birthplace　〃a　thousand　years　are　but　as　yesterday。〃

I　am　getting　away；　though；　I　fear；　from　my　〃furnished　apartments；〃　and　I　hardly　know　how　to　get　back。　　But　I　have　some　excuse　for　my　meanderings　this　time。　　It　is　a　piece　of　old　furniture　that　has　led　me　astray；　and　fancies　gather；　somehow；　round　old　furniture；　like　moss　around　old　stones。　　One's　chairs　and　tables　get　to　be　almost　part　of　one's　life　and　to　seem　like　quiet　friends。　　What　strange　tales　the　wooden…headed　old　fellows　could　tell　did　they　but　choose　to　speak！　　At　what　unsuspected　comedies　and　tragedies　have　they　not　assisted！　　What　bitter　tears　have　been　sobbed　into　that　old　sofa　cushion！　　What　passionate　whisperings　the　settee　must　have　overheard！

New　furniture　has　no　charms　for　me　compared　with　old。　　It　is　the　old　things　that　we　lovethe　old　faces；　the　old　books；　the　old　jokes。　　New　furniture　can　make　a　palace；　but　it　takes　old　furniture　to　make　a　home。　　Not　merely　old　in　itselflodging…house　furniture　generally　is　thatbut　it　must　be　old　to　us；　old　in　associations　and　recollections。　The　furniture　of　furnished　apartments；　however　ancient　it　may　be　in　reality；　is　new　to　our　eyes；　and　we　feel　as　though　we　could　never　get　on　with　it。　　As；　too；　in　the　case　of　all　fresh　acquaintances；　whether　wooden　or　human　（and　there　is　very　little　difference　between　the　two　species　sometimes）；　everything　impresses　you　with　its　worst　aspect。　The　knobby　wood…work　and　shiny　horse…hair　covering　of　the　easy…chair　suggest　anything　but　ease。　　The　mirror　is　smoky。　　The　curtains　want　washing。　　The　carpet　is　frayed。　　The　table　looks　as　if　it　would　go　over　the　instant　anything　was　rested　on　it。　　The　grate　is　cheerless；　the　wall…paper　hideous。　　The　ceiling　appears　to　have　had　coffee　spilt　all　over　it；　and　the　ornamentswell；　they　are　worse　than　the　wallpaper。

There　must　surely　be　some　special　and　secret　manufactory　for　the　production　of　lodging…house　ornaments。　　Precisely　the　same　articles　are　to　be　found　at　every　lodging…house　all　over　the　kingdom；　and　they　are　never　seen　anywhere　else。　　There　are　the　twowhat　do　you　call　them？　they　stand　one　at　each　end　of　the　mantel…piece；　where　they　are　never　safe；　and　they　are　hung　round　with　long　triangular　slips　of　glass　that　clank　against　one　another　and　make　you　nervous。　　In　the　commoner　class　of　rooms　these　works　of　art　are　supplemented　by　a　couple　of　pieces　of　china　which　might　each　be　meant　to　represent　a　cow　sitting　upon　its　hind　legs；　or　a　model　of　the　temple　of　Diana　at　Ephesus；　or　a　dog；　or　anything　else　you　like　to　fancy。　　Somewhere　about　the　room　you　come　across　a　bilious…looking　object；　which　at　first　you　take　to　be　a　lump　of　dough　left　about　by　one　of　the　children；　but　which　on　scrutiny　seems　to　resemble　an　underdone　cupid。　This　thing　the　landlady　calls　a　statue。　　Then　there　is　a　〃sampler〃　worked　by　some　idiot　related　to　the　family；　a　picture　of　the　〃Huguenots；〃　two　or　three　Scripture　texts；　and　a　highly　framed　and　glazed　certificate　to　the　effect　that　the　father　has　been　vaccinated；　or　is　an　Odd　Fellow；　or　something　of　that　sort。

You　examine　these　various　attractions　and　then　dismally　ask　what　the　rent　is。

〃That's　rather　a　good　deal；〃　you　say　on　hearing　the　figure。

〃Well；　to　tell　you　the　truth；〃　answers　the　landlady　with　a　sudden　burst　of　candor；　〃I've　always　had〃　（mentioning　a　sum　a　good　deal　in　excess　of　the　first…named　amount）；　〃and　before　that　I　used　to　have〃　（a　still　higher　figure）。

What　the　rent　of　apartments　must　have　been　twenty　years　ago　makes　one　shudder　to　think　of。　　Every　landlady　makes　you　feel　thoroughly　ashamed　of　yourself　by　informing　you；　whenever　the　subject　crops　up；　that　she　used　to　get　twice　as　much　for　her　rooms　as　you　are　paying。　　Young　men　lodgers　of　the　last　generation　must　have　been　of　a　wealthier　class　than　they　are　now；　or　they　must　have　ruined　themselves。　　I　should　have　had　to　live　in　an　attic。

Curious；　that　in　lodgings　the　rule　of　life　is　reversed。　　The　higher　you　get　up　in　the　world　the　lower　you　come　down　in　your　lodgings。　　On　the　lodging…house　ladder　the　poor　man　is　at　the　top；　the　rich　man　underneath。　　You　start　in　the　attic　and　work　your　way　down　to　the　first　floor。

A　good　many　great　men　have　lived　in　attics　and　some　have　died　there。　Attics；　says　the　dictionary；　are　〃places　where　lumber　is　stored；〃　and　the　world　has　used　them　to　store　a　good　deal　of　its　lumber　in　at　one　time　or　another。　　Its　preachers　and　painters　and　poets；　its　deep…browed　men　who　will　find　out　things；　its　fire…eyed　men　who　will　tell　truths　that　no　one　wants　to　hearthese　are　the　lumber　that　the　world　hides　away　in　its　attics。　　Haydn　grew　up　in　an　attic　and　Chatterton　starved　in　one。　　Addison　and　Goldsmith　wrote　in　garrets。　Faraday　and　De　Quincey　knew　them　well。　　Dr。　Johnson　camped　cheerfully　in　them；　sleeping　soundlytoo　soundly　sometimesupon　their　trundle…beds；　like　the　sturdy　old　soldier　of　fortune　that　he　was；　inured　to　hardship　and　all　careless　of　himself。　　Dickens　spent　his　youth　among　them；　Morland　his　old　agealas！　a　drunken；　premature　old　age。　　Hans　Andersen；　the　fairy　king；　dreamed　his　sweet　fancies　beneath　their　sloping　roofs。　　Poor；　wayward…hearted　Collins　leaned　his　head　upon　their　crazy　tables；　priggish　Benjamin　Franklin；　Savage；　the　wrong…headed；　much　troubled　when　he　could　afford　any　softer　bed　than　a　doorstep；　young　Bloomfield；　〃Bobby〃　Burns；　Hogarth；　Watts　the　engineerthe　roll　is　endless。　　Ever　since　the　habitations　of　men　were　reared　two　stories　high　has　the　garret　been　the　nursery　of　genius。

No　one　who　honors　the　aristocracy　of　mind　can　feel　ashamed　of　acquaintanceship　with　them。　　Their　damp…stained　walls　are　sacred　to　the　memory　of　noble　names。　　If　all　the　wisdom　of　the　world　and　all　its　artall　the　spoils　that　it　has　won　from　nature；　all　the　fire　that　it　has　snatched　from　heavenwere　gathered　together　and　divided　into　heaps；　and　we　could　point　and　say；　for　instance；　these　mighty　truths　were　flashed　forth　in　the　brilliant　_salon_　amid　the　ripple　of　light　laughter　and　the　sparkle　of　bright　eyes；　and　this　deep　knowledge　was　dug　up　in　the　quiet　study；　where　the　bust　of　Pallas　looks　ser