the professor at the breakfast table-第31部分

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very　long；　as　the　great　ladies　do　in　Europe。　　To　be　sure；　their

dresses　are　so　made　only　to　sweep　the　tapestried　floors　of　chateaux

and　palaces；　as　those　odious　aristocrats　of　the　other　side　do　not　go

draggling　through　the　mud　in　silks　and　satins；　but；　forsooth；　must

ride　in　coaches　when　they　are　in　full　dress。　　It　is　true；　that；

considering　various　habits　of　the　American　people；　also　the　little

accidents　which　the　best…kept　sidewalks　are　liable　to；　a　lady　who

has　swept　a　mile　of　them　is　not　exactly　in　such　a　condition　that　one

would　care　to　be　her　neighbor。　　But　then　there　is　no　need　of　being

so　hard　on　these　slight　weaknesses　of　the　poor；　dear　women　as　our

little　deformed　gentleman　was　the　other　day。



There　are　no　such　women　as　the　Boston　women；　Sir；he　said。

Forty…two　degrees；　north　latitude；　Rome；　Sir；　Boston；　Sir！　　They　had

grand　women　in　old　Rome；　Sir；and　the　women　bore　such　menchildren

as　never　the　world　saw　before。　　And　so　it　was　here；　Sir。　　I　tell

you；　the　revolution　the　Boston　boys　started　had　to　run　in　woman's

milk　before　it　ran　in　man's　blood；　Sir！



But　confound　the　make…believe　women　we　have　turned　loose　in　our

streets！　where　do　they　come　from？　　Not　out　of　Boston　parlors；　I

trust。　　Why；　there　is　n't　a　beast　or　a　bird　that　would　drag　its　tail

through　the　dirt　in　the　way　these　creatures　do　their　dresses。

Because　a　queen　or　a　duchess　wears　long　robes　on　great　occasions；　a

maid…of…all…work　or　a　factory…girl　thinks　she　must　make　herself　a

nuisance　by　trailing　through　the　street；　picking　up　and　carrying

about　with　her　pah！　that's　what　I　call　getting　vulgarity　into　your

bones　and　marrow。　　Making　believe　be　what　you　are　not　is　the　essence

of　vulgarity。　　Show　over　dirt　is　the　one　attribute　of　vulgar　people。

If　any　man　can　walk　behind　one　of　these　women　and　see　what　she　rakes

up　as　she　goes；　and　not　feel　squeamish；　he　has　got　a　tough　stomach。

I　wouldn't　let　one　of　'em　into　my　room　without　serving　'em　as　David

served　Saul　at　the　cave　in　the　wilderness；cut　off　his　skirts；　Sir！

cut　off　his　skirts！



I　suggested；　that　I　had　seen　some　pretty　stylish　ladies　who　offended

in　the　way　he　condemned。



Stylish　women；　I　don't　doubt；said　the　Little　Gentleman。　Don't

tell　me　that　a　true　lady　ever　sacrifices　the　duty　of　keeping　all

about　her　sweet　and　clean　to　the　wish　of　making　a　vulgar　show。　　I

won't　believe　it　of　a　lady。　　There　are　some　things　that　no　fashion

has　any　right　to　touch；　and　cleanliness　is　one　of　those　things。　　If

a　woman　wishes　to　show　that　her　husband　or　her　father　has　got　money；

which　she　wants　and　means　to　spend；　but　doesn't　know　how；　let　her

buy　a　yard　or　two　of　silk　and　pin　it　to　her　dress　when　she　goes　out

to　walk；　but　let　her　unpin　it　before　she　goes　into　the　house；there

may　be　poor　women　that　will　think　it　worth　disinfecting。　　It　is　an

insult　to　a　respectable　laundress　to　carry　such　things　into　a　house

for　her　to　deal　with。　　I　don't　like　the　Bloomers　any　too　well；in

fact；　I　never　saw　but　one；　and　sheor　he；　or　ithad　a　mob　of　boys

after　her；　or　whatever　you　call　the　creature；　as　if　she　had　been

a…



The　Little　Gentleman　stopped　short；flushed　somewhat；　and　looked

round　with　that　involuntary；　suspicious　glance　which　the　subjects　of

any　bodily　misfortune　are　very　apt　to　cast　round　them。　　His　eye

wandered　over　the　company；　none　of　whom；　excepting　myself　and　one

other；　had；　probably；　noticed　the　movement。　　They　fell　at　last　on

Iris；his　next　neighbor；　you　remember。



We　know　in　a　moment；　on　looking　suddenly　at　a　person；　if　that

person's　eyes　have　been　fixed　on　us。



Sometimes　we　are　conscious　of　it　before　we　turn　so　as　to　see　the

person。　　Strange　secrets　of　curiosity；　of　impertinence；　of　malice；

of　love；　leak　out　in　this　way。　　There　is　no　need　of　Mrs。　Felix

Lorraine's　reflection　in　the　mirror；　to　tell　us　that　she　is　plotting

evil　for　us　behind　our　backs。　　We　know　it；　as　we　know　by　the　ominous

stillness　of　a　child　that　some　mischief　or　other　is　going…on。　　A

young　girl　betrays；　in　a　moment；　that　her　eyes　have　been　feeding　on。

the　face　where　you　find　them　fixed；　and　not　merely　brushing　over　it

with　their　pencils　of　blue　or　brown　light。



A　certain　involuntary　adjustment　assimilates　us；　you　may　also

observe；　to　that　upon　which　we　look。　　Roses　redden　the　cheeks　of　her


who　stoops　to　gather　them；　and　buttercups　turn　little　people's　chins

yellow。　　When　we　look　at　a　vast　landscape；　our　chests　expand　as　if

we　would　enlarge　to　fill　it。　　When　we　examine　a　minute　object；　we

naturally　contract；　not　only　our　foreheads；　but　all　our　dimensions。

If　I　see　two　men　wrestling；　I　wrestle　too；　with　my　limbs　and

features。　　When　a　country…fellow　comes　upon　the　stage；　you　will　see

twenty　faces　in　the　boxes　putting　on　the　bumpkin　expression。　　There

is　no　need　of　multiplying　instances　to　reach　this　generalization；

every　person　and　thing　we　look　upon　puts　its　special　mark　upon　us。

If　this　is　repeated　often　enough；　we　get　a　permanent　resemblance　to

it；　or；　at　least；　a　fixed　aspect　which　we　took　from　it。　　Husband　and

wife　come　to　look　alike　at　last；　as　has　often　been　noticed。　　It　is　a

common　saying　of　a　jockey；　that　he　is　〃all　horse〃；　and　I　have　often

fancied　that　milkmen　get　a　stiff；　upright　carriage；　and　an　angular

movement　of　the　arm；　that　remind　one　of　a　pump　and　the　working　of

its　handle。



All　this　came　in　by　accident；　just　because　I　happened　to　mention

that　the　Little　Gentleman　found　that　Iris　had　been　looking　at　him

with　her　soul　in　her　eyes；　when　his　glance　rested　on　her　after

wandering　round　the　company。　　What　he　thought；　it　is　hard　to　say；

but　the　shadow　of　suspicion　faded　off　from　his　face；　and　he　looked

calmly　into　the　amber　eyes；　resting　his　cheek　upon　the　hand　that

wore　the　red　jewel。



If　it　were　a　possible　thing；women　are　such　strange　creatures！

Is　there　any　trick　that　love　and　their　own　fancies　do　not　play　them？

Just　see　how　they　marry！　　A　woman　that　gets　hold　of　a　bit　of　manhood

is　like　one　of　those　Chinese　wood…carvers　who　work　on　any　odd；

fantastic　root　that　comes　to　hand；　and；　if　it　is　only　bulbous　above

and　bifurcated　below；　will　always　contrive　to　make　a　mansuch　as　he

isout　of　it。　　I　should　like　to　see　any　kind　of　a　man；

distinguishable　from　a　Gorilla；　that　some　good　and　even　pretty　woman

could　not　shape　a　husband　out　of。



A　child；yes；　if　you　choose　to　call　her　so；　but　such　a　child！　　Do

you　know　how　Art　brings　all　ages　together？　　There　is　no　age　to　the

angels　and　ideal　human　forms　among　which　the　artist　lives；　and　he

shares　their　youth　until　his　hand　trembles　and　his　eye　grows　dim。

The　youthful　painter　talks　of　white…bearded　Leonardo　as　if　he　were　a

brother；　and　the　veteran　forgets　that　Raphael　died　at　an　age　to

which　his　own　is　of　patriarchal　antiquity。



But　why　this　lover　of　the　beautiful　should　be　so　drawn　to　one　whom

Nature　has　wronged　so　deeply　seems　hard　to　explain。　　Pity；　I

suppose。　　They　say　that　leads　to　love。



I　thought　this　matter　over　until　I　became　excited　and　curious；　and

determined　to　set　myself　more　seriously　at　work　to　find　out　what　was

going　on　in　these　wild　hearts　and　where　their　passionate　lives　were

drifting。　　I　say　wild　hearts　and　passionate　lives；　because　I　think　I

can　look　through　this　seeming　calmness　of　youth　and　this　apparent

feebleness　of　organization；　and　see　that　Nature；　whom　it　is　very

hard　to　cheat；　is　only　waiting　as　the　sapper　waits　in　his　mine；

knowing　that　all　is　in　readiness　and　the　slow…match　burning　quietly

down　to　the　powder。　　He　will　leave　it　by…and…by；　and　then　it　will

take　care　of　itself。



One　need　not　wait　to　see　the　smoke　coming　through　the　roof　of　a

house　and　the　flames　breaking　out　of　the　windows　to　know　that　the

building　is　on　fire。　　Hark！　　There　is　a　quiet；　steady；　unobtrusive；

crisp；　not　loud；　but　very　knowing　little　creeping　crackle　that　is

tolerably　intelligible。　　There　is　a　whiff　of　something　floating

about；　suggestive　of　toasting　shingles。　　Also　a　sharp　pyroligneous…

acid　pungency　in　the　air　that　stings　one's　eyes。　　Let　us　get　up　and

see　what　is　going　on。　Oh；oh；oh！　do　you　know　what　has　got　hold

of　you？　　It　is　the　great　red　dragon　that　is　born　of　the　little　red

eggs　we　call　sparks；　with　his　hundred　blowing　red　manes；　and　his

thousand　lashing　red　tails；　and　his　multitudinous　red　eyes　glaring

at　every　crack　and　key…hole；　and　his　countless　red　tongues　lapping

the　beams　he　is　going　to　crunch　presently；　and　his　hot　breath

warping　the　panels　and　cracking　the　glass　and　making　old　timber

sweat　that　had　forgotten　it　was　ever　alive　with　sap。　　Run　for　your

life！　leap！　or　you　will　be　a　cinder　in　five　minutes；　that　nothing

but　a　coroner　would　take　for　the　wreck　of　a　human　being！



If　any　gentleman　will　have　the　kindness　to　stop　this　run…away

comparison；　I　shall　be　much　obliged　to　him。　　All　I　intended　to　say

was；　that　we　need　not　wait　for　hearts　to　break　out　in　flames　to　know

that　they　are　full　of　combustibles　and　that　a　spark　has　got　among

them。　　I　don