the professor at the breakfast table- 第39部分

the　world　sails；　and　not　the　rudder　that　steers　its　course？　　No；

Sir！　　There　was　a　great　raft　built　about　two　thousand　years　ago；

call　it　an　ark；　rather；the　world's　great　ark！　big　enough　to　hold

all　mankind；　and　made　to　be　launched　right　out　into　the　open　waves

of　life；and　here　it　has　been　lying；　one　end　on　the　shore　and　one

end　bobbing　up　and　down　in　the　water；　men　fighting　all　the　time　as

to　who　should　be　captain　and　who　should　have　the　state…rooms；　and

throwing　each　other　over　the　side　because　they　could　not　agree　about

the　points　of　compass；　but　the　great　vessel　never　getting　afloat

with　its　freight　of　nations　and　their　rulers；and　now；　Sir；　there

is　and　has　been　for　this　long　time　a　fleet　of　〃heretic〃　lighters

sailing　out　of　Boston　Bay；　and　they　have　been　saying；　and　they　say

now；　and　they　mean　to　keep　saying；　〃Pump　out　your　bilge…water；

shovel　over　your　loads　of　idle　ballast；　get　out　your　old　rotten

cargo；　and　we　will　carry　it　out　into　deep　waters　and　sink　it　where

it　will　never　be　seen　again；　so　shall　the　ark　of　the　world's　hope

float　on　the　ocean；　instead　of　sticking　in　the　dock…mud　where　it　is

lying！〃



It's　a　slow　business；　this　of　getting　the　ark　launched。　　The　Jordan

was　n't　deep　enough；　and　the　Tiber　was　n't　deep　enough；　and　the

Rhone　was　n't　deep　enough；　and　the　Thames　was　n't　deep　enough；　and

perhaps　the　Charles　is　n't　deep　enough；　but　I　don't　feel　sure　of

that；　Sir；　and　I　love　to　hear　the　workmen　knocking　at　the　old　blocks

of　tradition　and　making　the　ways　smooth　with　the　oil　of　the　Good

Samaritan。　　I　don't　know；　Sir；but　I　do　think　she　stirs　a　little；

I　do　believe　she　slides；and　when　I　think　of　what　a　work　that　is

for　the　dear　old　three…breasted　mother　of　American　liberty；　I　would

not　take　all　the　glory　of　all　the　greatest　cities　in　the　world　for

my　birthright　in　the　soil　of　little　Boston！



Some　of　us　could　not　help　smiling　at　this　burst　of　local

patriotism；　especially　when　it　finished　with　the　last　two　words。



And　Iris　smiled；　too。　　But　it　was　the　radiant　smile　of　pleasure

which　always　lights　up　her　face　when　her　little　neighbor　gets

excited　on　the　great　topics　of　progress　in　freedom　and　religion；　and

especially　on　the　part　which；　as　he　pleases　himself　with　believing；

his　own　city　is　to　take　in　that　consummation　of　human　development　to

which　he　looks　forward。



Presently　she　looked　into　his　face　with　a　changed　expression；the

anxiety　of　a　mother　that　sees　her　child　suffering。



You　are　not　well；she　said。



I　am　never　well；he　answered。　His　eyes　fell　mechanically　on　the

death's…head　ring　he　wore　on　his　right　hand。　　She　took　his　hand　as

if　it　had　been　a　baby's；　and　turned　the　grim　device　so　that　it

should　be　out　of　sight。　　One　slight；　sad；　slow　movement　of　the　head

seemed　to　say；　〃The　death…symbol　is　still　there！〃



A　very　odd　personage；　to　be　sure！　　Seems　to　know　what　is　going　on；

reads　books；　old　and　new；has　many　recent　publications　sent　him；

they　tell　me；　but；　what　is　more　curious；　keeps　up　with　the　everyday

affairs　of　the　world；　too。　　Whether　he　hears　everything　that　is　said

with　preternatural　acuteness；　or　whether　some　confidential　friend

visits　him　in　a　quiet　way；　is　more　than　I　can　tell。　　I　can　make

nothing　more　of　the　noises　I　hear　in　his　room　than　my　old

conjectures。　　The　movements　I　mention　are　less　frequent；　but　I　often

hear　the　plaintive　cry；I　observe　that　it　is　rarely　laughing　of

late；I　never　have　detected　one　articulate　word；　but　I　never　heard

such　tones　from　anything　but　a　human　voice。



There　has　been；　of　late；　a　deference　approaching　to　tenderness；　on

the　part　of　the　boarders　generally　so　far　as　he　is　concerned。　　This

is　doubtless　owing　to　the　air　of　suffering　which　seems　to　have

saddened　his　look　of　late。　　Either　some　passion　is　gnawing　at　him

inwardly；　or　some　hidden　disease　is　at　work　upon　him。



What　's　the　matter　with　Little　Boston？said　the　young　man　John　to

me　one　day。　There　a'n't　much　of　him；　anyhow；　but　't　seems　to　me　he

looks　peakeder　than　ever。　　The　old　woman　says　he's　in　a　bad　way；　'n'

wants　a　puss　to　take　care　of　him。　　Them　pusses　that　take　care　of　old

rich　folks　marry　'em　sometimes；'n'　they　don't　commonly　live　a

great　while　after　that。　　No；　Sir！　　I　don't　see　what　he　wants　to　die

for；　after　he's　taken　so　much　trouble　to　live　in　such　poor

accommodations　as　that　crooked　body　of　his。　　I　should　like　to　know

how　his　soul　crawled　into　it；　'n'　how　it's　goin'　to　get　out。　　What

business　has　he　to　die；　I　should　like　to　know？　　Let　Ma'am　Allen　（the

gentleman　with　the　diamond）　die；　if　he　likes；　and　be　（this　is　a

family…magazine）；　but　we　a'n't　goin'　to　have　him　dyin'。　　Not　by　a

great　sight。　　Can't　do　without　him　anyhow。　　A'n't　it　fun　to　hear　him

blow　off　his　steam？



I　believe　the　young　fellow　would　take　it　as　a　personal　insult；　if

the　Little　Gentleman　should　show　any　symptoms　of　quitting　our　table

for　a　better　world。



In　the　mean　time；　what　with　going　to　church　in　company　with　our

young　lady；　and　taking　every　chance　I　could　get　to　talk　with　her；　I

have　found　myself　becoming；　I　will　not　say　intimate；　but　well

acquainted　with　Miss　Iris。　　There　is　a　certain　frankness　and

directness　about　her　that　perhaps　belong　to　her　artist　nature。　　For；

you　see；　the　one　thing　that　marks　the　true　artist　is　a　clear

perception　and　a　firm；　bold　hand；　in　distinction　from　that　imperfect

mental　vision　and　uncertain　touch　which　give　us　the　feeble　pictures

and　the　lumpy　statues　of　the　mere　artisans　on　canvas　or　in　stone。　　A

true　artist；　therefore；　can　hardly　fail　to　have　a　sharp；　well…

defined　mental　physiognomy。　　Besides　this；　many　young　girls　have　a

strange　audacity　blended　with　their　instinctive　delicacy。　　Even　in

physical　daring　many　of　them　are　a　match　for　boys；　whereas　you　will

find　few　among　mature　women；　and　especially　if　they　are　mothers；　who

do　not　confess；　and　not　unfrequently　proclaim；　their　timidity。　　One

of　these　young　girls；　as　many　of　us　hereabouts　remember；　climbed　to

the　top　of　a　jagged；　slippery　rock　lying　out　in　the　waves；an　ugly

height　to　get　up；　and　a　worse　one　to　get　down；　even　for　a　bold　young

fellow　of　sixteen。　　Another　was　in　the　way　of　climbing　tall　trees

for　crows'　nests；and　crows　generally　know　about　how　far　boys　can

〃shin　up；〃　and　set　their　household　establishments　above　that　high…

water　mark。　　Still　another　of　these　young　ladies　I　saw　for　the　first

time　in　an　open　boat；　tossing　on　the　ocean　ground…swell；　a　mile　or

two　from　shore；　off　a　lonely　island。　　She　lost　all　her　daring；　after

she　had　some　girls　of　her　own　to　look　out　for。



Many　blondes　are　very　gentle；　yielding　in　character；　impressible；

unelastic。　　But　the　positive　blondes；　with　the　golden　tint　running

through　them；　are　often　full　of　character。　　They　come；　probably

enough；　from　those　deep…bosomed　German　women　that　Tacitus　portrayed

in　such　strong　colors。　　The　negative　blondes；　or　those　women　whose

tints　have　faded　out　as　their　line　of　descent　has　become

impoverished；　are　of　various　blood；　and　in　them　the　soul　has　often

become　pale　with　that　blanching　of　the　hair　and　loss　of　color　in　the

eyes　which　makes　them　approach　the　character　of　Albinesses。



I　see　in　this　young　girl　that　union　of　strength　and　sensibility

which；　when　directed　and　impelled　by　the　strong　instinct　so　apt　to

accompany　this　combination　of　active　and　passive　capacity；　we　call

genius。　　She　is　not　an　accomplished　artist；　certainly；　as　yet；　but

there　is　always　an　air　in　every　careless　figure　she　draws；　as　it

were　of　upward　aspiration；the　elan　of　John　of　Bologna's　Mercury；

a　lift　to　them；　as　if　they　had　on　winged　sandals；　like　the　herald　of

the　Gods。　　I　hear　her　singing　sometimes；　and　though　she　evidently　is

not　trained；　yet　is　there　a　wild　sweetness　in　her　fitful　and

sometimes　fantastic　melodies；such　as　can　come　only　from　the

inspiration　of　the　moment；strangely　enough；　reminding　me　of　those

long　passages　I　have　heard　from　my　little　neighbor's　room；　yet　of

different　tone；　and　by　no　means　to　be　mistaken　for　those　weird

harmonies。



I　cannot　pretend　to　deny　that　I　am　interested　in　the　girl。　　Alone；

unprotected；　as　I　have　seen　so　many　young　girls　left　in　boarding…

houses；　the　centre　of　all　the　men's　eyes　that　surround　the　table；

watched　with　jealous　sharpness　by　every　woman；　most　of　all　by　that

poor　relation　of　our　landlady；　who　belongs　to　the　class　of　women

that　like　to　catch　others　in　mischief　when　they　themselves　are　too

mature　for　indiscretions；　（as　one　sees　old　rogues　turn　to　thief…

catchers；）　one　of　Nature's　gendarmerie；　clad　in　a　complete　suit　of

wrinkles；　the　cheapest　coat…of…mail　against　the　shafts　of　the　great

little　enemy；so　surrounded；　Iris　spans　this　commonplace　household…

life　of　ours　with　her　arch　of　beauty；　as　the　rainbow；　whose　name　she

borrows；　looks　down　on　a　dreary　pasture　with　its　feeding　flocks　and

herds　of　indifferent　animals。



These　young　girls　that　live　in　boarding…houses　can　do　pretty　much　as

they　will。　　The　female　gendarmes　are　off　guard　occasionally。　　The

sitting…room　has　its　solitary　moments；　when　any　two　boarders　who

wish　to　meet　may　come　together　accidentally；　（accidentally；　I　said；

Madam；　and　I　had　not　the　slightest　intention　of　Italicizing　the

word；）　and　discuss　the　social　or　political　questions　of　the　day；　or

any　other　subject　that　may　prove　interesting。　　Many　charming

conversations　take　place　at　the　foot　of　the　stairs；　or　while　one　of

the　parties　is　holding　the　latch　of　a　door；in　the　shadow　of

porticoes；　and　especially　on　those　outside　balconies　which　some　of

our　Southern　neighbors　call　〃stoops；〃　the　most　charming　places　in

the　world　when　the　moon　is　just　right　and　the　roses　and　honeysuckles

are　in　full　blow；as　we　used　to　think　in　eighteen　hundred　and　never

mention　it。



On　such　a　balcony　or　〃stoop；〃　one　evening；　I　walked　with　Iris。　　We

were　on　pretty　good　terms　now；　and　I　had　coaxed　her　arm　under　mine；…

…my　left　arm；　of　course。　　That　leaves　one's　right　arm　free　to　de