英语天堂-第41部分

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ble；　with　its　snowy　cloth；　heard　the　dreamy　murmur　of　the　singing　tea…kettle；　saw　Ruth　tripping　backward　and　forward；　with　plates　of　cake　and　saucers　of　preserves；　and　ever　and　anon　stopping　to　put　a　cake　into　Harry’s　hand；　or　pat　his　head；　or　twine　his　long　curls　round　her　snowy　fingers。　She　saw　the　ample；　motherly　form　of　Rachel；　as　she　ever　and　anon　came　to　the　bedside；　and　smoothed　and　arranged　something　about　the　bedclothes；　and　gave　a　tuck　here　and　there；　by　way　of　expressing　her　good…will；　and　was　conscious　of　a　kind　of　sunshine　beaming　down　upon　her　from　her　large；　clear；　brown　eyes。　She　saw　Ruth’s　husband　come　in；—saw　her　fly　up　to　him；　and　commence　whispering　very　earnestly；　ever　and　anon；　with　impressive　gesture；　pointing　her　little　finger　toward　the　room。　She　saw　her；　with　the　baby　in　her　arms；　sitting　down　to　tea；　she　saw　them　all　at　table；　and　little　Harry　in　a　high　chair；　under　the　shadow　of　Rachel’s　ample　wing；　there　were　low　murmurs　of　talk；　gentle　tinkling　of　tea…spoons；　and　musical　clatter　of　cups　and　saucers；　and　all　mingled　in　a　delightful　dream　of　rest；　and　Eliza　slept；　as　she　had　not　slept　before；　since　the　fearful　midnight　hour　when　she　had　taken　her　child　and　fled　through　the　frosty　starlight。
She　dreamed　of　a　beautiful　country；—a　land；　it　seemed　to　her；　of　rest；—green　shores；　pleasant　islands；　and　beautifully　glittering　water；　and　there；　in　a　house　which　kind　voices　told　her　was　a　home；　she　saw　her　boy　playing；　free　and　happy　child。　She　heard　her　husband’s　footsteps；　she　felt　him　coming　nearer；　his　arms　were　around　her；　his　tears　falling　on　her　face；　and　she　awoke！　It　was　no　dream。　The　daylight　had　long　faded；　her　child　lay　calmly　sleeping　by　her　side；　a　candle　was　burning　dimly　on　the　stand；　and　her　husband　was　sobbing　by　her　pillow。
The　next　morning　was　a　cheerful　one　at　the　Quaker　house。　“Mother”　was　up　betimes；　and　surrounded　by　busy　girls　and　boys；　whom　we　had　scarce　time　to　introduce　to　our　readers　yesterday；　and　who　all　moved　obediently　to　Rachel’s　gentle　“Thee　had　better；”　or　more　gentle　“Hadn’t　thee　better？”　in　the　work　of　getting　breakfast；　for　a　breakfast　in　the　luxurious　valleys　of　Indiana　is　a　thing　complicated　and　multiform；　and；　like　picking　up　the　rose…leaves　and　trimming　the　bushes　in　Paradise；　asking　other　hands　than　those　of　the　original　mother。　While；　therefore；　John　ran　to　the　spring　for　fresh　water；　and　Simeon　the　second　sifted　meal　for　corn…cakes；　and　Mary　ground　coffee；　Rachel　moved　gently；　and　quietly　about；　making　biscuits；　cutting　up　chicken；　and　diffusing　a　sort　of　sunny　radiance　over　the　whole　proceeding　generally。　If　there　was　any　danger　of　friction　or　collision　from　the　ill…regulated　zeal　of　so　many　young　operators；　her　gentle　“Come！　come！”　or　“I　wouldn’t；　now；”　was　quite　sufficient　to　allay　the　difficulty。　Bards　have　written　of　the　cestus　of　Venus；　that　turned　the　heads　of　all　the　world　in　sucomessive　generations。　We　had　rather；　for　our　part；　have　the　cestus　of　Rachel　Halliday；　that　kept　heads　from　being　turned；　and　made　everything　go　on　harmoniously。　We　think　it　is　more　suited　to　our　modern　days；　decidedly。
While　all　other　preparations　were　going　on；　Simeon　the　elder　stood　in　his　shirt…sleeves　before　a　little　looking…glass　in　the　corner；　engaged　in　the　anti…patriarchal　operation　of　shaving。　Everything　went　on　so　sociably；　so　quietly；　so　harmoniously；　in　the　great　kitchen；—it　seemed　so　pleasant　to　every　one　to　do　just　what　they　were　doing；　there　was　such　an　atmosphere　of　mutual　confidence　and　good　fellowship　everywhere；—even　the　knives　and　forks　had　a　social　clatter　as　they　went　on　to　the　table；　and　the　chicken　and　ham　had　a　cheerful　and　joyous　fizzle　in　the　pan；　as　if　they　rather　enjoyed　being　cooked　than　otherwise；—and　when　George　and　Eliza　and　little　Harry　came　out；　they　met　such　a　hearty；　rejoicing　welcome；　no　wonder　it　seemed　to　them　like　a　dream。
At　last；　they　were　all　seated　at　breakfast；　while　Mary　stood　at　the　stove；　baking　griddle…cakes；　which；　as　they　gained　the　true　exact　golden…brown　tint　of　perfection；　were　transferred　quite　handily　to　the　table。
Rachel　never　looked　so　truly　and　benignly　happy　as　at　the　head　of　her　table。　There　was　so　much　motherliness　and　full…heartedness　even　in　the　way　she　passed　a　plate　of　cakes　or　poured　a　cup　of　coffee；　that　it　seemed　to　put　a　spirit　into　the　food　and　drink　she　offered。
It　was　the　first　time　that　ever　George　had　sat　down　on　equal　terms　at　any　white　man’s　table；　and　he　sat　down；　at　first；　with　some　constraint　and　awkwardness；　but　they　all　exhaled　and　went　off　like　fog；　in　the　genial　morning　rays　of　this　simple；　overflowing　kindness。
This；　indeed；　was　a　home；—home；—a　word　that　George　had　never　yet　known　a　meaning　for；　and　a　belief　in　God；　and　trust　in　his　providence；　began　to　encircle　his　heart；　as；　with　a　golden　cloud　of　protection　and　confidence；　dark；　misanthropic；　pining　atheistic　doubts；　and　fierce　despair；　melted　away　before　the　light　of　a　living　Gospel；　breathed　in　living　faces；　preached　by　a　thousand　unconscious　acts　of　love　and　good　will；　which；　like　the　cup　of　cold　water　given　in　the　name　of　a　disciple；　shall　never　lose　their　reward。
“Father；　what　if　thee　should　get　found　out　again？”　said　Simeon　second；　as　he　buttered　his　cake。
“I　should　pay　my　fine；”　said　Simeon；　quietly。
“But　what　if　they　put　thee　in　prison？”
“Couldn’t　thee　and　mother　manage　the　farm？”　said　Simeon；　smiling。
“Mother　can　do　almost　everything；”　said　the　boy。　“But　isn’t　it　a　shame　to　make　such　laws？”
“Thee　mustn’t　speak　evil　of　thy　rulers；　Simeon；”　said　his　father；　gravely。　“The　Lord　only　gives　us　our　worldly　goods　that　we　may　do　justice　and　mercy；　if　our　rulers　require　a　price　of　us　for　it；　we　must　deliver　it　up。
“Well；　I　hate　those　old　slaveholders！”　said　the　boy；　who　felt　as　unchristian　as　became　any　modern　reformer。
“I　am　surprised　at　thee；　son；”　said　Simeon；　“thy　mother　never　taught　thee　so。　I　would　do　even　the　same　for　the　slaveholder　as　for　the　slave；　if　the　Lord　brought　him　to　my　door　in　affliction。”
Simeon　second　blushed　scarlet；　but　his　mother　only　smiled；　and　said；　“Simeon　is　my　good　boy；　he　will　grow　older；　by　and　by；　and　then　he　will　be　like　his　father。”
“I　hope；　my　good　sir；　that　you　are　not　exposed　to　any　difficulty　on　our　acomount；”　said　George；　anxiously。
“Fear　nothing；　George；　for　therefore　are　we　sent　into　the　world。　If　we　would　not　meet　trouble　for　a　good　cause；　we　were　not　worthy　of　our　name。”
“But；　for　me；”　said　George；　“I　could　not　bear　it。”
“Fear　not；　then；　friend　George；　it　is　not　for　thee；　but　for　God　and　man；　we　do　it；”　said　Simeon。　“And　now　thou　must　lie　by　quietly　this　day；　and　tonight；　at　ten　o’clock；　Phineas　Fletcher　will　carry　thee　onward　to　the　next　stand；—thee　and　the　rest　of　they　company。　The　pursuers　are　hard　after　thee；　we　must　not　delay。”
“If　that　is　the　case；　why　wait　till　evening？”　said　George。
“Thou　art　safe　here　by　daylight；　for　every　one　in　the　settlement　is　a　Friend；　and　all　are　watching。　It　has　been　found　safer　to　travel　by　night。”
Chapter　14
Evangeline
“A　young　star！　which　shone
O’er　life—too　sweet　an　image；　for　such　glass！
A　lovely　being；　scarcely　formed　or　moulded；
A　rose　with　all　its　sweetest　leaves　yet　folded。”
The　Mississippi！　How；　as　by　an　enchanted　wand；　have　its　scenes　been　changed；　since　Chateaubriand　wrote　his　prose…poetic　description　of　it；1　as　a　river　of　mighty；　unbroken　solitudes；　rolling　amid　undreamed　wonders　of　vegetable　and　animal　existence。
But　as　in　an　hour；　this　river　of　dreams　and　wild　romance　has　emerged　to　a　reality　scarcely　less　visionary　and　splendid。　What　other　river　of　the　world　bears　on　its　bosom　to　the　ocean　the　wealth　and　enterprise　of　such　another　country？—a　country　whose　products　embrace　all　between　the　tropics　and　the　poles！　Those　turbid　waters；　hurrying；　foaming；　tearing　along；　an　apt　resemblance　of　that　headlong　tide　of　business　which　is　poured　along　its　wave　by　a　race　more　vehement　and　energetic　than　any　the　old　world　ever　saw。　Ah！　would　that　they　did　not　also　bear　along　a　more　fearful　freight；—the　tears　of　the　oppressed；　the　sighs　of　the　helpless；　the　bitter　prayers　of　poor；　ignorant　hearts　to　an　unknown　God—unknown；　unseen　and　silent；　but　who　will　yet　“come　out　of　his　place　to　save　all　the　poor　of　the　earth！”
The　slanting　light　of　the　setting　sun　quivers　on　the　sea…like　expanse　of　the　river；　the　shivery　canes；　and　the　tall；　dark　cypress；　hung　with　wreaths　of　dark；　funereal　moss；　glow　in　the　golden　ray；　as　the　heavily…laden　steamboat　marches　onward。
Piled　with　cotton…bales；　from　many　a　plantation；　up　over　deck　and　sides；　till　she　seems　in　the　distance　a　square；　massive　block　of　gray；　she　moves　heavily　onward　to　the　nearing　mart。　We　must　look　some　time　among　its　crowded　decks　before　we　shall　find　again　our　humble　friend　Tom。　High　on　the　upper　deck；　in　a　little　nook　among　the　everywhere　predominant　cotton…bales；　at　last　we　may　find　him。
Partly　from　confidence　inspired　by　Mr。　Shelby’s　representations；　and　partly　from　the　remarkably　inoffensive　and　quiet　character　of　the　man；　Tom　had　insensibly　won　his　way　far　into　the　confidence　even　of　such　a　man　as　Haley。
At　first　he　had　watched　him　narrowly　through　the　day；　and　never　allowed　him　to　sleep　at　night　unfettered；　but　the　uncomplaining　patience　and　apparent　contentment　of　Tom’s　manner　led　him　gradually　to　discontinue　these　restraints；　and　for　some　time　Tom　had　enjoyed　a　sort　of　parole　of　honor；　being　permitted　to　come　and　go　freely　where　he　pleased　on　the　boat。
Ever　quiet　and　obliging；　and　more　than　ready　to　lend　a　hand　in　every　emergency　which　ocomurred　among　the　workmen　below；　he　had　won　the　good　opinion　of　all　the　hands；　and　spent　many　hours　in　helping　them　with　as　hearty　a　good　will　as　ever　he　worked　on　a　Kentucky　farm。
When　there　seemed　to　be　nothing　for　him　to　do；　he　would　climb　to　a　nook　among　the　cotton…bales　of　the　upper　deck；　and　busy　himself　in　studying　over　his　Bible；—and　it　is　there　we　see　him　now。
For　a　hundred　or　more　miles　above　New　Orleans；　the　river　is　higher　than　the　surrounding　country；　and　rolls　its　tremendous　volume　between　massive　levees　twenty　feet　in　height。　The　traveller　from　the　deck　of　the　steamer；　as　from　some　floating　castle　top；　overlooks　the　whole　country　for　miles　and　miles　around。　Tom；　therefore；　had　spread　out　full　before　him；　in　plantation　after　plantation；　a　map　of　the　life　to　which　he　was　approaching。
He　saw　the　distant　slaves　at　their　toil；　he　saw　afar　their　villages　of　huts　gleaming　out　in　long　rows　on　many　a　plantation；　distant　from　the　stately　mansions　and　pleasure…grounds　of　the　master；—and　as　the　moving　picture　passed　on；　his　poor；　foolish　heart　would　be　turning　backward　to　the　Kentucky　farm；　with　its　old　shadowy　beeches；—to　the　master’s　house；　with　its　wide；　cool　halls；　and；　near　by；　the　little　cabin　overgrown　with　the　multiflora　and　bignonia。　There　he　seemed　to　see　familiar　faces　of　comrades　who　had　grown　up　with　him　from　infancy；　he　saw　his　busy　wife；　bustling　in　her　preparations　for　his　evening　meals；　he　heard　the　merry　laugh　of　his　boys　at　their　play；　and　the　chirrup　of　the　baby　at　his　knee；　and　then；　with　a　start；　all　faded；　and　he　saw　again　the　canebrakes　and　cypresses　and　gliding　plantations；　and　heard　again　the　creaking　and　groaning　of　the　machinery；　all　telling　him　too　plainly　that　all　that　phase　of　life　had　gone　by　forever。
In　such　a　case；　you　write　to　your　wife；　and　send　messages　to　your　children；　but　Tom　could　not　write；—the　mail　for　him　had　no　existence；　and　the　gulf　of　separation　was　unbridged　by　even　a　friendly　word　or　signal。
Is　it　strange；　then；　that　some　tears　fall　on　the　pages　of　his　Bible；　as　he　lays　it　on　the　cotton…bale；　and；　with　patient　finger；　threading　his　slow　way　from　word　to　word；　traces　out　its　promises？　Having　learned　late　in　life；　Tom　was　but　a　slow　reader；　and　passed　on　laboriously　from　verse　to　verse。　Fortunate　for　him　was　it　that　the　book　he　was　intent　on　was　one　which　slow　reading　cannot　injure；—nay；　one　whose　words；　like　ingots　of　gold；　seem　often　to　need　to　be　weighed　separately；　that　the　mind　may　take　in　their　priceless　value。　Let　us　follow　him　a　moment；　as；　pointing　to　each　word；　and　pronouncing　each　half　aloud；　he　reads；
“Let—not—your—heart—be—troubled。　In—my—Father’s—house—are—many—mansions。　I—go—to—prepare—a—place—for—you。”
Cicero；　when　he　buried　his　darling　and　only　daughter；　had　a　heart　as　full　of　honest　grief　as　poor　Tom’s；—perhaps　no　fuller；　for　both　were　only　men；—but　Cicero　could　pause　over　no　such　sublime　words　of　hope；　and　look　to　no　such　future　reunion；　and　if　he　had　seen　them；　ten　to　one　he　would　not　have　believed；—he　must　fill　his　head　first　with　a　thousand　questions　of　authenticity　of　manuscript；　and　correctness　of　translation。　But；　to　poor　Tom；　there　it　lay；　just　what　he　needed；　so　evidently　true　and　divine　that　the　possibility　of　a　question　never　entered　his　simple　head。　It　must　be　true；　for；　if　not　true；　how　could　he　live？
As　for　Tom’s　Bible；　though　it　had　no　annotations　and　helps　in　margin　from　learned　commentators；　still　it　had　been　embellished　with　certain　way…marks　and　guide…boards　of　Tom’s　own　invention；　and　which　helped　him　more　than　the　most　learned　expositions　could　have　done。　It　had　been　his　custom　to　get　the　Bible　read　to　him　by　his　master’s　children；　in　particular　by　young　Master　George；　and；　as　they　read；　he　would　designate；　by　bold；　strong　marks　and　dashes；　with　pen　and　ink；　the　passages　which　more　particularly　gratified　his　ear　or　affected　his　heart。　His　Bible　was　thus　marked　through；　from　one　end　to　the　other；　with　a　variety　of　styles　and　designations；　so　he　could　in　a　moment　seize　upon　his　favorite　passages；　without　the　labor　of　spelling　out　what　lay　between　them；—and　while　it　lay　there　before　him；　every　passage　breathing　of　some　old　home　scene；　and　recalling　some　past　enjoyment；　his　Bible　seemed　to　him　all　of　this　life　that　remained；　as　well　as　the　promise　of　a　future　one。
Among　the　passengers　on　the　boat　was　a　young　gentleman　of　fortune　and　family；　resident　in　New　Orleans；　who　bore　the　name　of　St。　Clare。　He　had　with　him　a　daughter　between　five　and　six　years　of　age；　together　with　a　lady　who　seemed　to　claim　relationship　to　both；　and　to　have　the　little　one　especially　under　her　charge。
Tom　had　often　caught　glimpses　of　this　little　girl；—for　she　was　one　of　those　busy；　tripping　creatures；　that　can　be　no　more　contained　in　one　place　than　a　sunbeam　or　a　summer　breeze；—nor　was　she　one　that；　once　seen；　could　be　easily　forgotten。
Her　form　was　the　perfection　of　childish　beauty；　without　its　usual　chubbiness　and　squareness　of　outline。　There　was　about　it　an　undulating　and　aerial　grace；　such　as　one　might　dream　of　for　some　mythic　and　allegorical　being。　Her　face　was　remarkable　less　for　its　perfect　beauty　of　feature　than　for　a　singular　and　dreamy　earnestness　of　expression；　which　made　the　ideal　start　when　they　looked　at　her；　and　by　which　the　dullest　and　most　literal　were　impressed；　without　exactly　knowing　why。　The　shape　of　her　head　and　the　turn　of　her　neck　and　bust　was　peculiarly　noble；　and　the　long　golden…brown　hair　that　floated　like　a　cloud　around　it；　the　deep　spiritual　gravity　of　her　violet　blue　eyes；　shaded　by　heavy　fringes　of　golden　brown；—all　marked　her　out　from　other　children；　and　made　every　one　turn　and　look　after　her；　as　she　glided　hither　and　thither　on　the　boat。　Nevertheless；　the　littl