英语天堂-第52部分

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Miss　Ophelia；　in　a　few　days；　thoroughly　reformed　every　department　of　the　house　to　a　systematic　pattern；　but　her　labors　in　all　departments　that　depended　on　the　cooperation　of　servants　were　like　those　of　Sisyphus　or　the　Danaides。　In　despair；　she　one　day　appealed　to　St。　Clare。
“There　is　no　such　thing　as　getting　anything　like　a　system　in　this　family！”
“To　be　sure；　there　isn’t；”　said　St。　Clare。
“Such　shiftless　management；　such　waste；　such　confusion；　I　never　saw！”
“I　dare　say　you　didn’t。”
“You　would　not　take　it　so　coolly；　if　you　were　housekeeper。”
“My　dear　cousin；　you　may　as　well　understand；　once　for　all；　that　we　masters　are　divided　into　two　classes；　oppressors　and　oppressed。　We　who　are　good…natured　and　hate　severity　make　up　our　minds　to　a　good　deal　of　inconvenience。　If　we　will　keep　a　shambling；　loose；　untaught　set　in　the　community；　for　our　convenience；　why；　we　must　take　the　consequence。　Some　rare　cases　I　have　seen；　of　persons；　who；　by　a　peculiar　tact；　can　produce　order　and　system　without　severity；　but　I’m　not　one　of　them；—and　so　I　made　up　my　mind；　long　ago；　to　let　things　go　just　as　they　do。　I　will　not　have　the　poor　devils　thrashed　and　cut　to　pieces；　and　they　know　it；—and；　of　course；　they　know　the　staff　is　in　their　own　hands。”
“But　to　have　no　time；　no　place；　no　order；—all　going　on　in　this　shiftless　way！”
“My　dear　Vermont；　you　natives　up　by　the　North　Pole　set　an　extravagant　value　on　time！　What　on　earth　is　the　use　of　time　to　a　fellow　who　has　twice　as　much　of　it　as　he　knows　what　to　do　with？　As　to　order　and　system；　where　there　is　nothing　to　be　done　but　to　lounge　on　the　sofa　and　read；　an　hour　sooner　or　later　in　breakfast　or　dinner　isn’t　of　much　acomount。　Now；　there’s　Dinah　gets　you　a　capital　dinner；—soup；　ragout；　roast　fowl；　dessert；　ice…creams　and　all；—and　she　creates　it　all　out　of　chaos　and　old　night　down　there；　in　that　kitchen。　I　think　it　really　sublime；　the　way　she　manages。　But；　Heaven　bless　us！　if　we　are　to　go　down　there；　and　view　all　the　smoking　and　squatting　about；　and　hurryscurryation　of　the　preparatory　process；　we　should　never　eat　more！　My　good　cousin；　absolve　yourself　from　that！　It’s　more　than　a　Catholic　penance；　and　does　no　more　good。　You’ll　only　lose　your　own　temper；　and　utterly　confound　Dinah。　Let　her　go　her　own　way。”
But；　Augustine；　you　don’t　know　how　I　found　things。”
“Don’t　I？　Don’t　I　know　that　the　rolling…pin　is　under　her　bed；　and　the　nutmeg…grater　in　her　pocket　with　her　tobacomo；—that　there　are　sixty…five　different　sugar…bowls；　one　in　every　hole　in　the　house；—that　she　washes　dishes　with　a　dinner…napkin　one　day；　and　with　a　fragment　of　an　old　petticoat　the　next？　But　the　upshot　is；　she　gets　up　glorious　dinners；　makes　superb　coffee；　and　you　must　judge　her　as　warriors　and　statesmen　are　judged；　by　her　sucomess。”
“But　the　waste；—the　expense！”
“O；　well！　Lock　everything　you　can；　and　keep　the　key。　Give　out　by　driblets；　and　never　inquire　for　odds　and　ends；—it　isn’t　best。”
“That　troubles　me；　Augustine。　I　can’t　help　feeling　as　if　these　servants　were　not　strictly　honest。　Are　you　sure　they　can　be　relied　on？”
Augustine　laughed　immoderately　at　the　grave　and　anxious　face　with　which　Miss　Ophelia　propounded　the　question。
“O；　cousin；　that’s　too　good；—honest！—as　if　that’s　a　thing　to　be　expected！　Honest！—why；　of　course；　they　arn’t。　Why　should　they　be？　What　upon　earth　is　to　make　them　so？”
“Why　don’t　you　instruct？”
“Instruct！　O；　fiddlestick！　What　instructing　do　you　think　I　should　do？　I　look　like　it！　As　to　Marie；　she　has　spirit　enough；　to　be　sure；　to　kill　off　a　whole　plantation；　if　I’d　let　her　manage；　but　she　wouldn’t　get　the　cheatery　out　of　them。”
“Are　there　no　honest　ones？”
“Well；　now　and　then　one；　whom　Nature　makes　so　impracticably　simple；　truthful　and　faithful；　that　the　worst　possible　influence　can’t　destroy　it。　But；　you　see；　from　the　mother’s　breast　the　colored　child　feels　and　sees　that　there　are　none　but　underhand　ways　open　to　it。　It　can　get　along　no　other　way　with　its　parents；　its　mistress；　its　young　master　and　missie　play…fellows。　Cunning　and　deception　become　necessary；　inevitable　habits。　It　isn’t　fair　to　expect　anything　else　of　him。　He　ought　not　to　be　punished　for　it。　As　to　honesty；　the　slave　is　kept　in　that　dependent；　semi…childish　state；　that　there　is　no　making　him　realize　the　rights　of　property；　or　feel　that　his　master’s　goods　are　not　his　own；　if　he　can　get　them。　For　my　part；　I　don’t　see　how　they　can　be　honest。　Such　a　fellow　as　Tom；　here；　is；—is　a　moral　miracle！”
“And　what　becomes　of　their　souls？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“That　isn’t　my　affair；　as　I　know　of；”　said　St。　Clare；　“I　am　only　dealing　in　facts　of　the　present　life。　The　fact　is；　that　the　whole　race　are　pretty　generally　understood　to　be　turned　over　to　the　devil；　for　our　benefit；　in　this　world；　however　it　may　turn　out　in　another！”
“This　is　perfectly　horrible！”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　you　ought　to　be　ashamed　of　yourselves！”
“I　don’t　know　as　I　am。　We　are　in　pretty　good　company；　for　all　that；”　said　St。　Clare；　“as　people　in　the　broad　road　generally　are。　Look　at　the　high　and　the　low；　all　the　world　over；　and　it’s　the　same　story；—the　lower　class　used　up；　body；　soul　and　spirit；　for　the　good　of　the　upper。　It　is　so　in　England；　it　is　so　everywhere；　and　yet　all　Christendom　stands　aghast；　with　virtuous　indignation；　because　we　do　the　thing　in　a　little　different　shape　from　what　they　do　it。”
“It　isn’t　so　in　Vermont。”
“Ah；　well；　in　New　England；　and　in　the　free　States；　you　have　the　better　of　us；　I　grant。　But　there’s　the　bell；　so；　Cousin；　let　us　for　a　while　lay　aside　our　sectional　prejudices；　and　come　out　to　dinner。”
As　Miss　Ophelia　was　in　the　kitchen　in　the　latter　part　of　the　afternoon；　some　of　the　sable　children　called　out；　“La；　sakes！　thar’s　Prue　a　coming；　grunting　along　like　she　allers　does。”
A　tall；　bony　colored　woman　now　entered　the　kitchen；　bearing　on　her　head　a　basket　of　rusks　and　hot　rolls。
“Ho；　Prue！　you’ve　come；”　said　Dinah。
Prue　had　a　peculiar　scowling　expression　of　countenance；　and　a　sullen；　grumbling　voice。　She　set　down　her　basket；　squatted　herself　down；　and　resting　her　elbows　on　her　knees　said；
“O　Lord！　I　wish’t　I　’s　dead！”
“Why　do　you　wish　you　were　dead？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“I’d　be　out　o’　my　misery；”　said　the　woman；　gruffly；　without　taking　her　eyes　from　the　floor。
“What　need　you　getting　drunk；　then；　and　cutting　up；　Prue？”　said　a　spruce　quadroon　chambermaid；　dangling；　as　she　spoke；　a　pair　of　coral　ear…drops。
The　woman　looked　at　her　with　a　sour　surly　glance。
“Maybe　you’ll　come　to　it；　one　of　these　yer　days。　I’d　be　glad　to　see　you；　I　would；　then　you’ll　be　glad　of　a　drop；　like　me；　to　forget　your　misery。”
“Come；　Prue；”　said　Dinah；　“let’s　look　at　your　rusks。　Here’s　Missis　will　pay　for　them。”
Miss　Ophelia　took　out　a　couple　of　dozen。
“Thar’s　some　tickets　in　that　ar　old　cracked　jug　on　the　top　shelf；”　said　Dinah。　“You；　Jake；　climb　up　and　get　it　down。”
“Tickets；—what　are　they　for？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“We　buy　tickets　of　her　Mas’r；　and　she　gives　us　bread　for　’em。”
“And　they　counts　my　money　and　tickets；　when　I　gets　home；　to　see　if　I　’s　got　the　change；　and　if　I　han’t；　they　half　kills　me。”
“And　serves　you　right；”　said　Jane；　the　pert　chambermaid；　“if　you　will　take　their　money　to　get　drunk　on。　That’s　what　she　does；　Missis。”
“And　that’s　what　I　will　do；—I　can’t　live　no　other　ways；—drink　and　forget　my　misery。”
“You　are　very　wicked　and　very　foolish；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“to　steal　your　master’s　money　to　make　yourself　a　brute　with。”
“It’s　mighty　likely；　Missis；　but　I　will　do　it；—yes；　I　will。　O　Lord！　I　wish　I　’s　dead；　I　do；—I　wish　I　’s　dead；　and　out　of　my　misery！”　and　slowly　and　stiffly　the　old　creature　rose；　and　got　her　basket　on　her　head　again；　but　before　she　went　out；　she　looked　at　the　quadroon　girt；　who　still　stood　playing　with　her　ear…drops。
“Ye　think　ye’re　mighty　fine　with　them　ar；　a　frolickin’　and　a　tossin’　your　head；　and　a　lookin’　down　on　everybody。　Well；　never　mind；—you　may　live　to　be　a　poor；　old；　cut…up　crittur；　like　me。　Hope　to　the　Lord　ye　will；　I　do；　then　see　if　ye　won’t　drink；—drink；—drink；—yerself　into　torment；　and　sarve　ye　right；　too—ugh！”　and；　with　a　malignant　howl；　the　woman　left　the　room。
“Disgusting　old　beast！”　said　Adolph；　who　was　getting　his　master’s　shaving…water。　“If　I　was　her　master；　I’d　cut　her　up　worse　than　she　is。”
“Ye　couldn’t　do　that　ar；　no　ways；”　said　Dinah。　“Her　back’s　a　far　sight　now；—she　can’t　never　get　a　dress　together　over　it。”
“I　think　such　low　creatures　ought　not　to　be　allowed　to　go　round　to　genteel　families；”　said　Miss　Jane。　“What　do　you　think；　Mr。　St。　Clare？”　she　said；　coquettishly　tossing　her　head　at　Adolph。
It　must　be　observed　that；　among　other　appropriations　from　his　master’s　stock；　Adolph　was　in　the　habit　of　adopting　his　name　and　address；　and　that　the　style　under　which　he　moved；　among　the　colored　circles　of　New　Orleans；　was　that　of　Mr。　St。　Clare。
“I’m　certainly　of　your　opinion；　Miss　Benoir；”　said　Adolph。
Benoir　was　the　name　of　Marie　St。　Clare’s　family；　and　Jane　was　one　of　her　servants。
“Pray；　Miss　Benoir；　may　I　be　allowed　to　ask　if　those　drops　are　for　the　ball；　tomorrow　night？　They　are　certainly　bewitching！”
“I　wonder；　now；　Mr。　St。　Clare；　what　the　impudence　of　you　men　will　come　to！”　said　Jane；　tossing　her　pretty　head　til　the　ear…drops　twinkled　again。　“I　shan’t　dance　with　you　for　a　whole　evening；　if　you　go　to　asking　me　any　more　questions。”
“O；　you　couldn’t　be　so　cruel；　now！　I　was　just　dying　to　know　whether　you　would　appear　in　your　pink　tarletane；”　said　Adolph。
“What　is　it？”　said　Rosa；　a　bright；　piquant　little　quadroon　who　came　skipping　down　stairs　at　this　moment。
“Why；　Mr。　St。　Clare’s　so　impudent！”
“On　my　honor；”　said　Adolph；　“I’ll　leave　it　to　Miss　Rosa　now。”
“I　know　he’s　always　a　saucy　creature；”　said　Rosa；　poising　herself　on　one　of　her　little　feet；　and　looking　maliciously　at　Adolph。　“He’s　always　getting　me　so　angry　with　him。”
“O！　ladies；　ladies；　you　will　certainly　break　my　heart；　between　you；”　said　Adolph。　“I　shall　be　found　dead　in　my　bed；　some　morning；　and　you’ll　have　it　to　answer　for。”
“Do　hear　the　horrid　creature　talk！”　said　both　ladies；　laughing　immoderately。
“Come；—clar　out；　you！　I　can’t　have　you　cluttering　up　the　kitchen；”　said　Dinah；　“in　my　way；　foolin’　round　here。”
“Aunt　Dinah’s　glum；　because　she　can’t　go　to　the　ball；”　said　Rosa。
“Don’t　want　none　o’　your　light…colored　balls；”　said　Dinah；　“cuttin’　round；　makin’　b’lieve　you’s　white　folks。　Arter　all；　you’s　niggers；　much　as　I　am。”
“Aunt　Dinah　greases　her　wool　stiff；　every　day；　to　make　it　lie　straight；”　said　Jane。
“And　it　will　be　wool；　after　all；”　said　Rosa；　maliciously　shaking　down　her　long；　silky　curls。
“Well；　in　the　Lord’s　sight；　an’t　wool　as　good　as　bar；　any　time？”　said　Dinah。　“I’d　like　to　have　Missis　say　which　is　worth　the　most；—a　couple　such　as　you；　or　one　like　me。　Get　out　wid　ye；　ye　trumpery；—I　won’t　have　ye　round！”
Here　the　conversation　was　interrupted　in　a　two…fold　manner。　St。　Clare’s　voice　was　heard　at　the　head　of　the　stairs；　asking　Adolph　if　he　meant　to　stay　all　night　with　his　shaving…water；　and　Miss　Ophelia；　coming　out　of　the　dining…room；　said；
“Jane　and　Rosa；　what　are　you　wasting　your　time　for；　here？　Go　in　and　attend　to　your　muslins。”
Our　friend　Tom；　who　had　been　in　the　kitchen　during　the　conversation　with　the　old　rusk…woman；　had　followed　her　out　into　the　street。　He　saw　her　go　on；　giving　every　once　in　a　while　a　suppressed　groan。　At　last　she　set　her　basket　down　on　a　doorstep；　and　began　arranging　the　old；　faded　shawl　which　covered　her　shoulders。
“I’ll　carry　your　basket　a　piece；”　said　Tom；　compassionately。
“Why　should　ye？”　said　the　woman。　“I　don’t　want　no　help。”
“You　seem　to　be　sick；　or　in　trouble；　or　somethin’；”　said　Tom。
“I　an’t　sick；”　said　the　woman；　shortly。
“I　wish；”　said　Tom；　looking　at　her　earnestly；—“I　wish　I　could　persuade　you　to　leave　off　drinking。　Don’t　you　know　it　will　be　the　ruin　of　ye；　body　and　soul？”
“I　knows　I’m　gwine　to　torment；”　said　the　woman；　sullenly。　“Ye　don’t　need　to　tell　me　that　ar。　I　’s　ugly；　I　’s　wicked；—I　’s　gwine　straight　to　torment。　O；　Lord！　I　wish　I　’s　thar！”
Tom　shuddered　at　these　frightful　words；　spoken　with　a　sullen；　impassioned　earnestness。
“O；　Lord　have　mercy　on　ye！　poor　crittur。　Han’t　ye　never　heard　of　Jesus　Christ？”
“Jesus　Christ；—who’s　he？”
“Why；　he’s　the　Lord；”　said　Tom。
“I　think　I’ve　hearn　tell　o’　the　Lord；　and　the　judgment　and　torment。　I’ve　heard　o’　that。”
“But　didn’t　anybody　ever　tell　you　of　the　Lord　Jesus；　that　loved　us　poor　sinners；　and　died　for　us？”
“Don’t　know　nothin’　’bout　that；”　said　the　woman；　“nobody　han’t　never　loved　me；　since　my　old　man　died。”
“Where　was　you　raised？”　said　Tom。
“Up　in　Kentuck。　A　man　kept　me　to　breed　chil’en　for　market；　and　sold　’em　as　fast　as　they　got　big　enough；　last　of　all；　he　sold　me　to　a　speculator；　and　my　Mas’r　got　me　o’　him。”
“What　set　you　into　this　bad　way　of　drinkin’？”
“To　get　shet　o’　my　misery。　I　had　one　child　after　I　come　here；　and　I　thought　then　I’d　have　one　to　raise；　cause　Mas’r　wasn’t　a　speculator。　It　was　de　peartest　little　thing！　and　Missis　she　seemed　to　think　a　heap　on　’t；　at　first；　it　never　cried；—it　was　likely　and　fat。　But　Missis　tuck　sick；　and　I　tended　her；　and　I　tuck　the　fever；　and　my　milk　all　left　me；　and　the　child　it　pined　to　skin　and　bone；　and　Missis　wouldn’t　buy　milk　for　it。　She　wouldn’t　hear　to　me；　when　I　telled　her　I　hadn’t　milk。　She　said　she　knowed　I　could　feed　it　on　what　other　folks　eat；　and　the　child　kinder　pined；　and　cried；　and　cried；　and　cried；　day　and　night；　and　got　all　gone　to　skin　and　bones；　and　Missis　got　sot　agin　it　and　she　said　’t　wan’t　nothin’　but　crossness。　She　wished　it　was　dead；　she　said；　and　she　wouldn’t　let　me　have　it　o’　nights；　cause；　she　said；　it　kept　me　awake；　and　made　me　good　for　nothing。　She　made　me　sleep　in　her　room；　and　I　had　to　put　it　away　off　in　a　little　kind　o’　garret；　and　thar　it　cried　itself　to　death；　one　night。　It　did；　and　I　tuck　to　drinkin’；　to　keep　its　crying　out　of　my　ears！　I　did；—and　I　will　drink！　I　will；　if　I　do　go　to　torment　for　it！　Mas’r　says　I　shall　go　to　torment；　and　I　tell　him　I’ve　got　thar　now！”
“O；　ye　poor　crittur！”　said　Tom；　“han’t　nobody　never　telled　ye　how　the　Lord　Jesus　loved　ye；　and　died　for　ye？　Han’t　they　telled　ye　that　he’ll　help　ye；　and　ye　can　go　to　heaven；　and　have　rest；　at　last？”
“I　looks　like　gwine　to　heaven；”　said　the　woman；　“an’t　thar　where　white　folks　is　gwine？　S’pose　they’d　have　me　thar？　I’d　rather　go　to　torment；　and　get　away　from　Mas’r　and　Missis。　I　had　so；”　she　said；　as　with　her　usual　groan；　she　got　her　basket　on　her　head；　and　walked　sullenly　away。
Tom　turned；　and　walked　sorrowfully　back　to　the　house。　In　the　court　he　met　little　Eva；—a　crown　of　tuberoses　on　her　head；　and　her　eyes　radiant　with　delight。
“O；　Tom！　here　you　are。　I’m　glad　I’ve　found　you。　Papa　says　you　may　get　out　the　ponies；　and　take　me　in　my　little　new　carriage；”　she　said；　catching　his　hand。　“But　what’s　the　matter　Tom？—you　look　sober。”
“I　feel　bad；　Miss　Eva；”　said　Tom；　sorrowfully。　“But　I’ll　get　the　horses　for　you。”
“But　do　tell　me；　Tom；　what　is　the　matter。　I　saw　you　talking　to　cross　old　Prue。”
Tom；　in　simple；　earnest　phrase；　told　Eva　the　woman’s　history。　She　did