penrod-第7部分

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was　Congo　black　and　shiny。　　The　music　came　down　the　street　and

passed　beneath　the　window；　accompanied　by　the　care…free　shuffling

of　a　pair　of　old　shoes　scuffing　syncopations　on　the　cement

sidewalk。　　It　passed　into　the　distance；　became　faint　and　blurred；

was　gone。　　Emotion　stirred　in　Penrod　a　great　and　poignant　desire；

but　（perhaps　fortunately）　no　fairy　godmother　made　her　appearance。



Otherwise　Penrod　would　have　gone　down　the　street　in　a　black　skin；

playing　the　mouth…organ；　and　an　unprepared　coloured　youth　would

have　found　himself　enjoying　educational　advantages　for　which　he

had　no　ambition　whatever。



Roused　from　perfect　apathy；　the　boy　cast　about　the　schoolroom

an　eye　wearied　to　nausea　by　the　perpetual　vision　of　the　neat

teacher　upon　the　platform；　the　backs　of　the　heads　of　the　pupils

in　front　of　him；　and　the　monotonous　stretches　of　blackboard

threateningly　defaced　by　arithmetical　formulae　and　other　insignia

of　torture。　　Above　the　blackboard；　the　walls　of　the　high　room

were　of　white　plasterwhite　with　the　qualified　whiteness　of　old

snow　in　a　soft　coal　town。　　This　dismal　expanse　was　broken　by　four

lithographic　portraits；　votive　offerings　of　a　thoughtful

publisher。　　The　portraits　were　of　good　and　great　men；　kind　men；

men　who　loved　children。　　Their　faces　were　noble　and　benevolent。　

But　the　lithographs　offered　the　only　rest　for　the　eyes　of

children　fatigued　by　the　everlasting　sameness　of　the　schoolroom。　

Long　day　after　long　day；　interminable　week　in　and　interminable

week　out；　vast　month　on　vast　month；　the　pupils　sat　with　those

four　portraits　beaming　kindness　down　upon　them。　　The　faces

became　permanent　in　the　consciousness　of　the　children；　they

became　an　obsessionin　and　out　of　school　the　children　were　never

free　of　them。　　The　four　faces　haunted　the　minds　of　children

falling　asleep；　they　hung　upon　the　minds　of　children　waking　at

night；　they　rose　forebodingly　in　the　minds　of　children　waking　in

the　morning；　they　became　monstrously　alive　in　the　minds　of

children　lying　sick　of　fever。　　Never；　while　the　children　of　that

schoolroom　lived；　would　they　be　able　to　forget　one　detail　of　the

four　lithographs：　the　hand　of　Longfellow　was　fixed；　for　them；

forever；　in　his　beard。　　And　by　a　simple　and　unconscious

association　of　ideas；　Penrod　Schofield　was　accumulating　an

antipathy　for　the　gentle　Longfellow　and　for　James　Russell　Lowell

and　for　Oliver　Wendell　Holmes　and　for　John　Greenleaf　Whittier；

which　would　never　permit　him　to　peruse　a　work　of　one　of　those

great　New　Englanders　without　a　feeling　of　personal　resentment。



His　eyes　fell　slowly　and　inimically　from　the　brow　of　Whittier

to　the　braid　of　reddish　hair　belonging　to　Victorine　Riordan；　the

little　octoroon　girl　who　sat　directly　in　front　of　him。　

Victorine's　back　was　as　familiar　to　Penrod　as　the　necktie　of

Oliver　Wendell　Holmes。　　So　was　her　gayly　coloured　plaid　waist。　

He　hated　the　waist　as　he　hated　Victorine　herself；　without　knowing

why。　　Enforced　companionship　in　large　quantities　and　on　an　equal

basis　between　the　sexes　appears　to　sterilize　the　affections；

and　schoolroom　romances　are　few。



Victorine's　hair　was　thick；　and　the　brickish　glints　in　it

were　beautiful；　but　Penrod　was　very　tired　of　it。　　A　tiny　knot　of

green　ribbon　finished　off　the　braid　and　kept　it　from　unravelling；

and　beneath　the　ribbon　there　was　a　final　wisp　of　hair　which　was

just　long　enough　to　repose　upon　Penrod's　desk　when　Victorine

leaned　back　in　her　seat。　　It　was　there　now。　　Thoughtfully；　he

took　the　braid　between　thumb　and　forefinger；　and；　without

disturbing　Victorine；　dipped　the　end　of　it　and　the　green　ribbon

into　the　inkwell　of　his　desk。　　He　brought　hair　and　ribbon　forth

dripping　purple　ink；　and　partially　dried　them　on　a　blotter；

though；　a　moment　later　when　Victorine　leaned　forward；　they　were

still　able　to　add　a　few　picturesque　touches　to　the　plaid　waist。



Rudolph　Krauss；　across　the　aisle　from　Penrod；　watched　the

operation　with　protuberant　eyes；　fascinated。　　Inspired　to

imitation；　he　took　a　piece　of　chalk　from　his　pocket　and　wrote

〃RATS〃　across　the　shoulder…blades　of　the　boy　in　front　of　him；

then　looked　across　appealingly　to　Penrod　for　tokens　of

congratulation。　　Penrod　yawned。　　It　may　not　be　denied　that　at

times　he　appeared　to　be　a　very　self…centred　boy。



　

　

CHAPTER　IX

SOARING



Half　the　members　of　the　class　passed　out　to　a　recitation…room；

the　empurpled　Victorine　among　them；　and　Miss　Spence　started　the

remaining　half　through　the　ordeal　of　trial　by　mathematics。　

Several　boys　and　girls　were　sent　to　the　blackboard；　and　Penrod；

spared　for　the　moment；　followed　their　operations　a　little　while

with　his　eyes；　but　not　with　his　mind；　then；　sinking　deeper　in　his

seat；　limply　abandoned　the　effort。　　His　eyes　remained　open；　but

saw　nothing；　the　routine　of　the　arithmetic　lesson　reached　his

ears　in　familiar；　meaningless　sounds；　but　he　heard　nothing；　and

yet；　this　time；　he　was　profoundly　occupied。　　He　had

drifted　away　from　the　painful　land　of　facts；　and　floated　now　in　a

new　sea　of　fancy　which　he　had　just　discovered。



Maturity　forgets　the　marvellous　realness　of　a　boy's　day…

dreams；　how　colourful　they　glow；　rosy　and　living；　and　how　opaque

the　curtain　closing　down　between　the　dreamer　and　the　actual

world。　　That　curtain　is　almost　sound…proof；　too；　and　causes　more

throat…trouble　among　parents　than　is　suspected。



The　nervous　monotony　of　the　schoolroom　inspires　a　sometimes

unbearable　longing　for　something　astonishing　to　happen；　and　as

every　boy's　fundamental　desire　is　to　do　something　astonishing

himself；　so　as　to　be　the　centre　of　all　human　interest　and　awe；　it

was　natural　that　Penrod　should　discover　in　fancy　the　delightful

secret　of　self…levitation。　　He　found；　in　this　curious　series　of

imaginings；　during　the　lesson　in　arithmetic；　that　the　atmosphere

may　be　navigated　as　by　a　swimmer　under　water；　but　with　infinitely

greater　ease　and　with　perfect　comfort　in　breathing。　　In　his　mind

he　extended　his　arms　gracefully；　at　a　level　with　his　shoulders；

and　delicately　paddled　the　air　with　his　hands；　which　at　once

caused　him　to　be　drawn　up　out　of　his　seat　and　elevated　gently　to

a　position　about　midway　between　the　floor　and　the　ceiling；　where

he　came　to　an　equilibrium　and　floated；　a　sensation　not　the　less

exquisite　because　of　the　screams　of　his　fellow　pupils；　appalled

by　the　miracle。　　Miss　Spence　herself　was　amazed　and

frightened；　but　he　only　smiled　down　carelessly　upon　her　when

she　commanded　him　to　return　to　earth；　and　then；　when　she　climbed

upon　a　desk　to　pull　him　down；　he　quietly　paddled　himself　a　little

higher；　leaving　his　toes　just　out　of　her　reach。　　Next；　he　swam

through　a　few　slow　somersaults　to　show　his　mastery　of　the　new

art；　and；　with　the　shouting　of　the　dumfounded　scholars　ringing　in

his　ears；　turned　on　his　side　and　floated　swiftly　out　of　the

window；　immediately　rising　above　the　housetops；　while　people　in

the　street　below　him　shrieked；　and　a　trolley　car　stopped　dead　in

wonder。



With　almost　no　exertion　he　paddled　himself；　many　yards　at　a

stroke；　to　the　girls'　private　school　where　Marjorie　Jones　was　a

pupilMarjorie　Jones　of　the　amber　curls　and　the　golden　voice！　

Long　before　the　〃Pageant　of　the　Table　Round；〃　she　had　offered

Penrod　a　hundred　proofs　that　she　considered　him　wholly

undesirable　and　ineligible。　　At　the　Friday　Afternoon　Dancing

Class　she　consistently　incited　and　led　the　laughter　at　him

whenever　Professor　Bartet　singled　him　out　for　admonition　in

matters　of　feet　and　decorum。　　And　but　yesterday　she　had　chid　him

for　his　slavish　lack　of　memory　in　daring　to　offer　her　a　greeting

on　the　way　to　Sunday…school。　　〃Well！　I　expect　you　must　forgot　I

told　you　never　to　speak　to　me　again！　　If　I　was　a　boy；　I'd　be　too

proud　to　come　hanging　around　people　that　don't　speak　to　me；　even

if　I　WAS　the　Worst　Boy　in　Town！〃　　So　she　flouted　him。　

But　now；　as　he　floated　in　through　the　window　of　her　classroom　and

swam　gently　along　the　ceiling　like　an　escaped　toy　balloon；　she

fell　upon　her　knees　beside　her　little　desk；　and；　lifting　up　her

arms　toward　him；　cried　with　love　and　admiration：



〃Oh；　PENrod！〃



He　negligently　kicked　a　globe　from　the　high　chandelier；　and；

smiling　coldly；　floated　out　through　the　hall　to　the　front　steps

of　the　school；　while　Marjorie　followed；　imploring　him　to　grant

her　one　kind　look。



In　the　street　an　enormous　crowd　had　gathered；　headed　by　Miss

Spence　and　a　brass　band；　and　a　cheer　from　a　hundred　thousand

throats　shook　the　very　ground　as　Penrod　swam　overhead。　　Marjorie

knelt　upon　the　steps　and　watched　adoringly　while　Penrod　took　the

drum…major's　baton　and；　performing　sinuous　evolutions　above　the

crowd；　led　the　band。　　Then　he　threw　the　baton　so　high　that　it

disappeared　from　sight；　but　he　went　swiftly　after　it；　a　double

delight；　for　he　had　not　only　the　delicious　sensation　of　rocketing

safely　up　and　up　into　the　blue　sky；　but　also　that　of　standing　in

the　crowd　below；　watching　and　admiring　himself　as　he　dwindled　to

a　speck；　disappeared　and　then；　emerging　from　a　cloud；　came

speeding　down；　with　the　baton　in　his　hand；　to　the　level　of　the

treetops；　where　he　beat　time　for　the　band　and　the　vast　throng　and

Marjorie　Jones；　who　all　united　in　the　〃Star…spangled　Banner〃　in

honour　of　his　aerial　achievements。　　It　was　a　great　moment。



It　was　a　great　moment；　but　something　seemed　to　threaten　it。　

The　face　of　Miss　Spence　looking　up　from　the　crowd　grew　too

vividunpleasantly　vivid。　　She　was　beckoning　him　and　shouting；

〃Come　down；　Penrod　Schofield！　　Penrod　Schofield；　come　down　here！〃



He　could　hear　her　above　the　band　and　the　singing　of　the

multitude；　she　seemed　intent　on　spoiling　everything。　　Marjorie

Jones　was　weeping　to　show　how　sorry　she　was　that　she　had　formerly

slighted　him；　and　throwing　kisses　to　prove　that　she　loved　him；

but　Miss　Spence　kept　jumping　between　him　and　Marjorie；

incessantly　calling　his　name。



He　grew　more　and　more　irritated　with　her；　he　was　the　most