the village watch-tower-第14部分

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〃Goodfellow；　Puck　and　goblins；

Know　more　than　any　book。

Down　with　your　doleful　problems；

And　court　the　sunny　brook。

The　south…winds　are　quick…witted；

The　schools　are　sad　and　slow；

The　masters　quite　omitted

The　lore　we　care　to　know。〃



Emerson's　_April。_







〃Find　the　317th　page；　Davy；　and　begin　at　the　top　of

the　right…hand　column。〃



The　boy　turned　the　leaves　of　the　old　instruction　book　obediently；　and

then　began　to　read　in　a　sing…song；　monotonous　tone：



〃'One　of　Pag…pag'〃



〃Pag…a…ni…ni's。〃



〃'One　of　Paggernyner's'　（I　wish　all　the　fellers　in　your　stories

didn't　have　such　tough　old　names！）　'most　dis…as…ter…ous　triumphs

he　had　when　playing　at　Lord　Holland's。'　（Who　was　Lord　Holland；

uncle　Tony？）　'Some　one　asked　him　to　im…pro…vise　on　the　violin

the　story　of　a　son　who　kills　his　father；　runs　a…way；　becomes

a　highway…man；　falls　in　love　with　a　girl　who　will　not　listen　to　him；

so　he　leads　her　to　a　wild　country　site；　suddenly　jumping　with　her

from　a　rock　into　an　a…b…y…double…s'〃



〃Abyss。〃



〃'a　rockintoanabyss；　were　they　disappear　forever。

Paggernyner　listened　quietly；　and　when　the　story　was　at　an　end

he　asked　that　all　the　lights　should　be　distinguished。'〃



〃Look　closer；　Davy。〃



〃'Should　be　extinguished。　　He　then　began　playing；　and　so　terrible　was　the

musical　in…ter…pre…ta…tion　of　the　idea　which　had　been　given　him　that　several

of　the　ladies　fainted；　and　the　sal…salon…s_a_lon；　when　relighted；　looked　like

a　battle…field。'　Cracky！　　Wouldn't　you　like　to　have　been　there；　uncle　Tony？

But　I　don't　believe　anybody　ever　played　that　way；　do　you？〃



〃Yes；〃　said　the　listener；　dreamily　raising　his　sightless　eyes

to　the　elm…tree　that　grew　by　the　kitchen　door。　　〃I　believe　it；

and　I　can　hear　it　myself　when　you　read　the　story　to　me。

I　feel　that　the　secret　of　everything　in　the　world　that　is　beautiful；

or　true；　or　terrible；　is　hidden　in　the　strings　of　my　violin；

Davy；　but　only　a　master　can　draw　it　from　captivity。〃



〃You　make　stories　on　your　violin；　too；　uncle　Tony；

even　if　the　ladies　don't　faint　away　in　heaps；　and　if　the　kitchen

doesn't　look　like　a　battle…field　when　you　've　finished。

I'm　glad　it　doesn't；　for　my　part；　for　I　should　have　more

housework　to　do　than　ever。〃



〃Poor　Davy！　you　couldn't　hate　housework　any　worse　if　you　were　a　woman；

but　it　is　all　done　for　to…day。　Now　paint　me　one　of　your　pictures；　laddie；

make　me　see　with　your　eyes。〃



The　boy　put　down　the　book　and　leaped　out　of　the　open　door；

barely　touching　the　old　millstone　that　served　for　a　step。

Taking　a　stand　in　the　well…worn　path；　he　rested　his　hands

on　his　hips；　swept　the　landscape　with　the　glance　of　an　eagle；

and　began　like　a　young　improvisator：



〃The　sun　is　just　dropping　behind　Brigadier　Hill。〃



〃What　color　is　it？〃



〃Red　as　fire；　and　there　isn't　anything　near　it；it　's　almost　alone

in　the　sky；　there　's　only　teenty　little　white　feather　clouds　here　and　there。

The　bridge　looks　as　if　it　was　a　silver　string　tying　the　two　sides

of　the　river　together。　　The　water　is　pink　where　the　sun　shines　into　it。

All　the　leaves　of　the　trees　are　kind　of　swimming　in　the　red　light；

I　tell　you；　nunky；　just　as　if　I　was　looking　through　red　glass。

The　weather　vane　on　Squire　Bean's　barn　dazzles　so　the　rooster　seems

to　be　shooting　gold　arrows　into　the　river。　　I　can　see　the　tip　top　of

Mount　Washington　where　the　peak　of　its　snow…cap　touches　the　pink　sky。

The　hen…house　door　is　open。　　The　chickens　are　all　on　their　roost；

with　their　heads　cuddled　under　their　wings。〃



〃Did　you　feed　them？〃



The　boy　clapped　his　hand　over　his　mouth　with　a　comical　gesture

of　penitence；　and　dashed　into　the　shed　for　a　panful　of　corn；　which　he

scattered　over　the　ground；　enticing　the　sleepy　fowls　by　insinuating　calls

of　〃Chick；　chick；　chick；　chick！〃　　_Come；_　biddy；　biddy；　biddy；　biddy！

_Come；_　chick；　chick；　chick；　chick；　chick！〃



The　man　in　the　doorway　smiled　as　over　the　misdemeanor　of　somebody　very

dear　and　lovable；　and　rising　from　his　chair　felt　his　way　to　a　corner　shelf；

took　down　a　box；　and　drew　from　it　a　violin　swathed　in　a　silk　bag。

He　removed　the　covering　with　reverential　hands。　　The　tenderness　of

the　face　was　like　that　of　a　young　mother　dressing　or　undressing　her　child。

As　he　fingered　the　instrument　his　hands　seemed　to　have　become　all　eyes。

They　wandered　caressingly　over　the　polished　surface　as　if　enamored

of　the　perfect　thing　that　they　had　created；　lingering　here　and　there

with　rapturous　tenderness　on　some　special　beauty；the　graceful　arch

of　the　neck；　the　melting　curves　of　the　cheeks；　the　delicious　swell

of　the　breasts。



When　he　had　satisfied　himself　for　the　moment；　he　took　the　bow；

and　lifting　the　violin　under　his　chin；　inclined　his　head　fondly

toward　it　and　began　to　play。



The　tune　at　first　seemed　muffled；　but　had　a　curious　bite；

that　began　in　distant　echoes；　but　after　a　few　minutes'　the　playing

grew　firmer　and　clearer；　ringing　out　at　last　with　velvety　richness

and　strength　until　the　atmosphere　was　satiated　with　harmony。

No　more　ethereal　note　ever　flew　out　of　a　bird's　throat　than　Anthony

Croft　set　free　from　this　violin；　his　_liebling_；　his　〃swan　song；〃

made　in　the　year　he　had　lost　his　eyesight。



Anthony　Croft　had　been　the　only　son　of　his　mother；　and　she　a　widow。

His　boyhood　had　been　exactly　like　that　of　all　the　other　boys

in　Edgewood；　save　that　he　hated　school　a　trifle　more；　if　possible；

than　any　of　the　others；　though　there　was　a　unanimity　of　aversion　in　this

matter　that　surprised　and　wounded　teachers　and　parents。



The　school　was　the　ordinary　〃deestrick〃　school　of　that　time；　there　were

not　enough　scholars　for　what　Cyse　Higgins　called　a　〃degraded〃　school。

The　difference　between　Anthony　and　the　other　boys　lay　in　the　reason　as　well

as　the　degree　of　his　abhorrence。



He　had　come　into　the　world　a　naked；　starving　human　soul；　he　longed

to　clothe　himself；　and　he　was　hungry　and　ever　hungrier　for　knowledge；

but　never　within　the　four　walls　of　the　village　schoolhouse　could　he　get

hold　of　one　fact　that　would　yield　him　its　secret　sense；　one　glimpse

of　clear　light　that　would　shine　in　upon　the　〃darkness　which　may　be　felt〃

in　his　mind；　one　thought　or　word　that　would　feed　his　soul。



The　only　place　where　his　longings　were　ever　stilled；

where　he　seemed　at　peace　with　himself；　where　he　understood

what　he　was　made　for；　was　out　of　doors　in　the　woods。

When　he　should　have　been　poring　over　the　sweet；

palpitating　mysteries　of　the　multiplication　table；

his　vagrant　gaze　was　always　on　the　open　window　near　which　he　sat。

He　could　never　study　when　a　fly　buzzed　on　the　window…pane；

he　was　always　standing　on　the　toes　of　his　bare　feet；

trying　to　locate　and　understand　the　buzz　that　puzzled　him。

The　book　was　a　mute；　soulless　thing　that　had　no　relation

to　his　inner　world　of　thought　and　feeling。　　He　turned　ever

from　the　dead　seven…times…six　to　the　mystery　of　life　about　him。



He　was　never　a　special　favorite　with　his　teachers；　that　was　scarcely

to　be　expected。　　In　his　very　early　years；　his　pockets　were　gone　through

with　every　morning　when　he　entered　the　school　door；　and　the　contents；

when　confiscated；　would　comprise　a　jew's…harp；　a　bit　of　catgut；

screws　whittled　out　of　wood；　tacks；　spools；　pins；　and　the　like。

But　when　robbed　of　all　these　he　could　generally　secrete　a　piece　of　elastic；

which；　when　put　between　his　teeth　and　stretched　to　its　utmost　capacity；

would　yield　a　delightful　twang　when　played　upon　with　the　forefinger。

He　could　also　fashion　an　interesting　musical　instrument　in　his　desk　by　means

of　spools　and　catgut　and　bits　of　broken　glass。　　The　chief　joy　of　his　life

was　an　old　tuning…fork　that　the　teacher　of　the　singing　school　had

given　him；　but；　owing　to　the　degrading　and　arbitrary　censorship　of　pockets

that　prevailed；　he　never　dared　bring　it　into　the　schoolroom。　　There　were　ways；

however；　of　evading　inexorable　law　and　circumventing　base　injustice。

He　hid　the　precious　thing　under　a　thistle　just　outside　the　window。

The　teacher　had　sometimes　a　brief　season　of　apathy　on　hot　afternoons；

when　she　was　hearing　the　primer　class　read；　〃_I　see　a　pig。　　The　pig　is　big。

The　big　pig　can　dig；_〃　which　stirring　in　phrases　were　always　punctuated

by　the　snores　of　the　Hanks　baby；　who　kept　sinking　down　on　his　fat

little　legs　in　the　line　and　giving　way　to　slumber　during　the　lesson。

At　such　a　moment　Anthony　slipped　out　of　the　window　and　snapped

the　tuning…fork　several　times；just　enough　to　save　his　soul　from　death；

and　then　slipped　in　again。　　He　was　caught　occasionally；　but　not　often；

and　even　when　he　was；　there　were　mitigating　circumstances；

for　he　was　generally　put　under　the　teacher's　desk　for　punishment。

It　was　a　dark；　close；　sultry　spot；　but　when　he　was　well　seated；　and　had　grown

tied　of　looking　at　the　triangle　of　elastic　in　the　teacher's　congress　boot；

and　tired　of　wishing　it　was　his　instead　of　hers；　he　would　tie　one　end

of　a　bit　of　thread　to　the　button　of　his　gingham　shirt；　and；　carrying　it

round　his　left　ear　several　times；　make　believe　he　was　Paganini　languishing

in　prison　and　playing　on　a　violin　with　a　single　string。



As　he　grew　older　there　was　no　marked　improvement；　and　Tony

Croft　was　by　general　assent　counted　the　laziest　boy　in　the　village。

That　he　was　lazy　in　certain　matters　merely　because　he　was　in

a　frenzy　of　industry　to　pursue　certain　others　had　nothing　to　do

with　the　case；　of　course。



If　any　one　had　ever　given　him　a　task　in　which　he　could

have　seen　cause　working　to　effect；　in　which　he　could　have　found

by　personal　experiment　a　single　fact　that　belonged　to　him；

his　own　by　divine　right　of　discovery；　he　would　have　counted

labor　or　study　all　joy。



He　was　one　incarnate　Why　and　How；　one　brooding　wonder　and

interrogation　point。　　〃Why　does　the　sun　drive　away　the　stars？

Why　do　the　leaves　turn　red　and　gold？　　What　makes　the　seed　swell　in　the　earth？

》From　whence　comes　the　life　hidden　in　the　egg　under　the　bird's　breast？

What　holds　the　moon　in　the　s