back home-第11部分

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rich　click　about　the　bulging　pockets　of　the　boys；　and　every　so　often　in　school　time　something　drops　on　the　floor　and　rolls　noisily　across　the　room。　　When　Miss　Daniels　asks：　〃Who　did　that？〃　the　boys　all　look　so　astonished。　　Who　did　what；　pray　tell？　　And　when　she　picks　up　a　marble　and　inquires：　〃Whose　is　this？〃　nobody　can　possibly　imagine　whose　it　might　be；　least　of　all　the　boy　whose　most　highly…prized　shooter　it　is。　　At　this　season　of　the　year；　too；　there　is　much　serious　talk　as　to　the　exceeding　sinfulness　of　〃playing　for　keeps。〃　　The　little　boys；　in　whose　thumbs　lingers　the　weakness　of　the　arboreal　ape；　their　ancestor；　and　who　〃poke〃　their　marbles；　drink　in　eagerly　the　doctrine　that　when　you　win　a　marble　you　ought　to　give　it　back；　but　the　hard…eyed　fellows；　who　can　plunk　it　every　time；　sit　there　and　let　it　go　in　one　ear　and　out　the　other；　there　being　a　hole　drilled　through　expressly　for　the　purpose。　　What？　Give　up　the　rewards　of　skill？　　Ah；　g'wan！

The　girls；　even　to　those　who　have　begun　to　turn　their　hair　up　under；　are　turning　the　rope　and　dismally　chanting：　〃All　in　together；　pigs　in　the　meadow；　nineteen　twenty；　leave　the　rope　empty；〃　or　whatever　the　rune　is。

It　won't　be　long　now。　　It　won't　be　long。

　　〃For　lo；　the　winter　is　past；　the　rain　is　over　and　gone；　the　　　　flowers　appear　on　the　earth；　the　time　of　the　singing　of　birds　　　　is　come；　and　the　voice　of　the　turtle　is　heard　in　our　land；　the　　　　fig…tree　putteth　forth　her　green　figs；　and　the　vines；　with　the　　　　tender　grape　give　a　good　smell。　　Arise　my　love；　my　fair　one　　　　and　come　away。〃

THE　SONG　OF　SOLOMON。


Out　in　the　woods　the　leaves　that　rustled　so　bravely　when　we　shuffled　our　feet　through　them　last　fall　are　sodden　and　matted。　　It　is　warm　in　the　woods；　for　the　sun　strikes　down　through　the　bare　branches；　and　the　cold　wind　is　fended　off。　　The　fleshy　lances　of　the　spring　beauty　have　stabbed　upward　through　the　mulch；　and　a　tiny　cup；　delicately　veined　with　pink；　hangs　its　head　bashfully。　　Anemones　on　brown　wire　stems　aspire　without　a　leaf；　and　in　moist　patches　are　May　pinks；　the　trailing　arbutus　of　the　grown…ups。　　As　we　carry　home　a　bunch；　the　heads　all　lopping　every　way　like　the　heads　of　strangled　babies；　we　can　almost　hear　behind　us　in　the　echoing　forests　a　long；　heart…broken　moan；　as　of　Rachel　mourning　for　her　children；　and　will　not　be　comforted　because　they　are　not。　　The　wild　flowers　don't　look　so　pretty　in　the　tin　cups　of　water　as　they　did　back　in　the　woods。　There　is　something　cheap　and　common　about　them。　　Throw　'em　out。　　The　poor　plants　that　planned　through　all　the　ages　how　to　attract　the　first　smart　insects　of　the　season；　and　trick　them　into　setting　the　seeds　for　next　years'　flowers　did　not　reckon　that　these　very　means　whereby　they　hoped　to　rear　a　family　would　prove　their　undoing　at　the　hands　of　those　who　plume　themselves　a　little　on　their　refinement；　they　〃are　so　fond　of　flowers。〃

Old　Winter　hates　to　give　up　that　he　is　beaten。　　It's　a　funny　thing；　but　when　you　hear　a　person　sing；　〃Good…a…by；　Summer；　good…a…by；　good…a…by；〃　you　always　feel　kind　of　sad　and　sorry。　　It's　going；　the　time　of　year　when　you　can　stay　out　of　doors　most　of　the　time；　when　you　can　go　in　swimming；　and　the　Sunday…school　picnic；　and　the　circus；　and　play　base…ball　and　camp　out；　and　there's　no　school；　and　everything　nice；　and　watermelons；　and　all　like　that。　　Good…by；　good…by；　and　you　begin　to　sniff　a　little。　　The　departure　of　summer　is　dignified　and　even　splendid；　but　the　earth　looks　so　sordid　and　draggle…trailed　when　winter　goes；　that　onions　could　not　bring　a　tear。　Old　winter　likes　to　tease。　　Aha！　　You　thought　I　was　gone；　did　you？　Not　yet；　my　child；　not　yet！〃　　And　he　sends　us　huckleberry…colored　clouds　from　the　northwest；　from　which　snow…flakes　big　as　copper　cents　solemnly　waggle　down；　as　if　they　really　expected　the　schoolboy　to　shout：　〃It　snows！　　Hurrah！〃　and　makes　his　shout　heard　through　parlor　and　hall。　　But　they　only　leave　a　few　dark　freckles　on　the　garden　beds。　　Alas；　yes！　　There　is　no　light　without　its　shadow；　no　joy　without　its　sorrow　tagging　after。　　It　isn't　all　marbles　and　play　in　the　gladsome　springtide。　　Bub　has　not　only　to　spade　up　the　garden　　…　there　is　some　sense　in　that　…　but　he　has　to　dig　up　the　flower　beds；　and　help　his　mother　set　out　her　footy；　trifling　plants。

The　robins　have　come　back；　our　robins　that　nest　each　spring　in　the　old　seek…no…further。　　To　the　boy　grunting　over　the　spading…fork　presents　himself　Cock　Robin。　　〃How　about　it？　　Hey？　　All　right？　　Hey？〃　he　seems　to　ask；　cocking　his　head；　and　flipping　out　the　curt　inquiries　with　tail…jerks。　　Glad　of　any　excuse　to　stop　work；　the　boy　stands　statue…still；　while　Mr。　Robin　drags　from　the　upturned　clods　the　long；　elastic　fish…worms；　and　then　with　a　brief　〃Chip！〃　flashes　out　of　sight。　　Be　right　still　now。　　Don't　move。　　Here　he　comes　again；　and　his　wife　with　him。　　They　fly　down；　he　all　eager　and　alert　to　wait　upon　her；　she　whining　and　scolding。　　She　doesn't　think　it's　much　of　a　place　for　worms。　　And　there's　that　boy　yonder。　He's　up　to　some　devilment　or　other；　she　just　knows。　　She　oughtn't　to　have　come　away　and　left　those　eggs。　　They'll　get　cold　now；　she　just　knows　they　will。　　Anything　might　happen　to　them　when　she　's　away；　and　then　he　'll　be　to　blame；　for　he　coaxed　her。　　He　knows　she　told　him　she　didn't　want　to　come。　　But　he　would　have　it。　　For　half　a　cent　she'd　go　back　right　now。　　And；　Heavens　above！　　Is　he　going　to　be　all　'day　picking　up　a　few　little　worms？

She　cannot　finish　her　sentences　for　her　gulps；　for　he　is　tamping　down　in　her　insides　the　reluctant　angleworms　that　do　not　want　to　die；　two　or　three　writhing　in　his　bill　at　once；　until　he　looks　like　Jove's　eagle　with　its　mouth　full　of　thunderbolts。　　And　all　the　time　he　is　chip…chipping　and　flirting　his　tail；　and　saying：　〃How's　that？　All　right？　　Hey？　　Here's　another。　　How's　that？　　All　right？　　Hey？　Open　now。　　Like　that？　　Here's　one。

Oh；　a　beaut！　　Here's　two　fat　ones？　　Great？　　Hey？　　Here　y'　go。　　Touch　the　spot？　　Hey？　　More？　　Sure　Mike。　　Lots　of　'em。　　Wide　now。　　Boss。　Hey？　　Wait　a　second　…　yes；　honey。　　In　a　second。　。　。　。　I　got　him。　Here's　the　kind　you　like。　　Oh；　yes；　do。　　Do　take　one　more。　　Oh；　you　better。〃

〃D'　ye　think　I'm　made　o'　rubber？〃　she　snaps　at　him。　　〃I　know　I'll　have　indigestion；　and　you'll　be　to　bla　…　Mercy　land！　　Them　eggs！〃　and　she　gathers　up　her　skirts　and　flits。　　He　escorts　her　gallantly；　but　returns　to　pick　a　few　for　himself；　and　to　cock　his　head　knowingly　at　the　boy；　as　much　as　to　say：　〃Man　of　family；　by　Ned。　Or　…　or　soon　will　be。　　Oh；　yes；　any　minute　now；　any　minute。〃

And　if　I　remember　rightly；　he　even　winks　at　the　boy　with　a　wink　whose　full　significance　the　boy　does　not　learn　till　many　years　after　when　it　dawns　upon　him　that　it　meant：　〃You　got　to　make　allowances　for　'em。　Especially　at　such　a　time。　　All　upset；　you　know；　and　worried。　　Oh；　yes。　　You　got　to；　you　got　to　make　allowances　for　'em。〃

Day　by　day　the　air　grows　balmier　and　softer　on　the　cheek。　　Out　in　the　garden；　ranks　of　yellow…green　pikes　stand　stiffly　at　〃Present。　Hump！〃　and　rosettes　of　the　same　color　crumple　through　the　warm　soil；　unconsciously　preparing　for　a　soul　tragedy。　　For　an　evening　will　come　when　a　covered　dish　will　be　upon　the　supper…table；　and　when　the　cover　is　taken　off；　a　subtle　fragrance　will　betray；　if　the　sense　of　sight　do　not；　that　the　chopped…up　lettuces　and　onions　are　in　a　marsh　of　cider　vinegar；　demanding　to　be　eaten。　　And　your　big　sister　will　squall　out　in　comic　distress：　〃Oh；　ma！　　You　are　too　mean　for　anything！　　Why　did　you　have　'em　tonight？　　I　told　you　Mr。　Dellabaugh　was　going　to　call；　and　you　know　how　I　love　spring　onions！　　Well；　I　don't　care。　　I'm　just　going　to；　anyhow。〃

Things　come　with　such　a　rush　now；　it　is　hard　to　tell　what　happens　in　its　proper　order。　　The　apple…trees　blossom　out　like　pop…corn　over　the　hot　coals。　　The　Japan　quince　repeats　its　farfamed　imitation　of　the　Burning　Bush　of　Moses；　the　flowering　currants　are　strung　with　knobs　of　vivid　yellow　fringe；　the　dead　grass　from　the　front　yard；　the　sticks　and　stalks　and　old　tomato　vines；　the　bits　of　rag　and　the　old　bones　that　Guess　has　gnawed　upon　are　burning　in　the　alley；　and　the　tormented　smoke　is　darting　this　way　and　that；　trying　to　get　out　from　under　the　wind　that　seeks　to　flatten　it　to　the　ground。　　All　this　is　spring；　and　　…　and　yet　it　isn't。　　The　word　is　not　yet　spoken　that　sets　us　free　to　live　the　outdoor　life；　we　are　yet　prisoners　and　captives　of　the　house。

But；　one　day　in　school；　the　heat　that　yesterday　was　nice　and　cozy　becomes　too　dry　and　baking　for　endurance。　　The　young　ones　come　in　from　recess　red；　not　with　the　brilliant　glow　of　winter；　but　a　sort　of　scalded　red。　　They　juke　their　heads　forward　to　escape　their　collars'　moist　embrace；　they　reach　their　hands　back　of　them　to　pull　their　clinging　winter　underwear　away。　　They　fan　themselves　with　joggerfies；　and　puff　out：　〃Phew！〃　and　look　pleadingly　at　the　shut　windows。　　One　boy；　bolder　than　his　fellows；　moans　with　a　suffering　lament：　〃Miss　Daniels；　cain't　we　have　the　windows　open？　　It's　awful　hot！〃　　Frightful　dangers　lurk　in　draughts。　　Fresh　air　will　kill　folks。　　So；　not　until　the　afternoon　is　the　prayer　answered。　　Then　the　outer　world；　so　long　excluded；　enters　once　more　the　school…room　life。　　The　mellifluous　crowing　of　distant　roosters；　the　rhythmic　creaking　of　a　thirsty　pump；　the　rumble　of　a　loaded　wagon；　the　clinking　of　hammers　at　the　blacksmith　shop；　the　whistle　of　No。　3　away　below　town；　all　blend　together　in　the　soft　spring　air　into　one　lulling　harmony。

Winter's　alert　activity　is　gone。　　Who　cares　for　grades　and　standings　now？　　The　girls；　that　always　are　so　smart；　gape　lazily；　and　stare　at　vacancy　wishing　。　。　。　。　They　don't　know　what　they　wish；　but　if　He　had　a　lot　of　money；　why；　then　they　could　help　the　poor；　and　all　like　that；　and　have　a　new　dress　every　day。

James　Sackett　…　his　real　name　is　Jim　Bag；　but　teacher　calls　him　James　Sackett　…　has　his　face　set　toward：　〃A　farmer　sold　16　2…3　bu。　wheat　for　66　7…8　c。　per　bu。；　19　2…9　bu。　oats　for；〃　etc。；　etc。；　but　his　soul　is　far　away　in　Cummins's　woods；　where　there　is　a　robbers'　cave　that　he；　and　Chuck　Higgins；　and　Bunt　Rogers；　and　Turkey…egg　McLaughlin　are　going　to　dig　Saturday　afternoons　when　the　chores　are　done。　　They　are　going　to　…　　Here　Miss　Daniels　should　slip　up　behind　him　and　snap　his　ear；　but　she；　t