the days of my life-第4部分

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held　till　his　death　over　forty　years　later。　He　used　to　conduct　the　proceedings　with　great　dignity；　to　which　his　appearance　—　for　he　was　a　very　handsome　man；　better　looking　indeed　than　any　of　his　sons　—　and　his　splendid　voice　added　not　a　little。
Most　of　us　have　inherited　the　voice　though　not　to　the　same　degree。　Indeed　it　has　been　a　family　characteristic　for　generations；　and　my　father　told　me　that　once　as　a　young　man　he　was　recognised　as　a　Haggard　by　an　old　lady　who　had　never　seen　him　and　did　not　know　his　name；　merely　by　the　likeness　of　his　voice　to　that　of　his　great…grandfather　who　had　been　her　friend　in　youth。　Never　was　there　such　a　voice　as　my　father’s；　moreover　he　was　wont　to　make　use　of　it。　It　was　a　joke　concerning　him；　which　I　may　have　originated；　that　if　he　was　in　the　city　of　Norwich　and　anyone　wished　to　discover　his　whereabouts；　all　they　needed　to　do　was　to　stand　in　the　market…place　for　a　while　to　listen。　Here　is　a　tale　of　that　voice。
My　youngest　brother　Arthur；　now　Major　Haggard；　had　been　lunching　with　him　at　the　Oxford　and　Cambridge　Club　in　Pall　Mall；　and　after　luncheon　bade　him　farewell　on　the　steps　of　the　club　and　went　his　way；　to　Egypt；　I　believe。　Presently　he　heard　a　roar　of　“Arthur！　Arthur！”　and　not　wishing　to　attract　attention　to　himself；　quickened　his　steps。　It　was　the　very　worst　thing　that　he　could　do；　for　the　roars　redoubled。　Arthur　began　to　run；　people　began　to　stare。　Somebody　cried　“Stop　thief！”　Arthur；　now　followed　by　a　crowd　in　which　a　policeman　had　joined；　ran　harder　till　he　was　brought　to　a　stop　by　the　sentry　at　Marlborough　House。　Then　he　surrendered　and　was　escorted　by　the　crowd　back　to　the　Oxford　and　Cambridge　Club。　As　he　approached；　my　father　bellowed　out：
“Don’t　forget　to　give　my　love　to　your　mother。”
Then　amidst　shouts　of　laughter　he　vanished　into　the　club；　and　Arthur　departed　to　catch　the　train　to　Bradenham；　en　route　for　Egypt。
My　father　was　a　typical　squire　of　the　old　sort；　a　kind　of　Sir　Roger　de　Coverley。　He　reigned　at　Bradenham　like　a　king；　blowing　everybody　up　and　making　rows　innumerable。　Yet　I　do　not　think　there　was　a　more　popular　man　in　the　county　of　Norfolk。　Even　the　servants；　whom　he　rated　in　a　fashion　that　no　servant　would　put　up　with　nowadays；　were　fond　of　him。　He　could　send　back　the　soup　with　a　request　to　the　cook　to　drink　it　all　herself；　or　some　other　infuriating　message。　He　could　pull　at　the　bells　until　feet　of　connecting　wire　hung　limply　down　the　wall；　and　announce　when　whoever　it　was　he　wanted　appeared　that　Thorpe　Idiot　Asylum　was　her　proper　home；　and　so　forth。　Nobody　seemed　to　mind　in　the　least。　It　was　“only　the　Squire’s　way；”　they　said。3
3　No　doubt　some　of　the　characteristics　of　Squire　De　la　Molle　and　his　factotum　George　in　Sir　Rider’s　Norfolk　tale　Colonel　Quaritch；　V。C。；　can　be　traced　to　Mr。　W。　M。　R。　Haggard　and　his　servant　Sam　Adcock。　—　Ed。
It　was　the　same　with　the　outdoor　men；　especially　with　one　Samuel　Adcock；　his　factotum；　a　stout；　humorous　person　whose　face　was　marked　all　over　with　small…pox　pits。　About　once　a　week　Samuel　was　had　in　to　the　vestibule　and　abused　in　a　most　straightforward　fashion；　but　he　never　seemed　to　mind。
“I　believe；　Samuel；”　roared　my　father　at　him　in　my　hearing；　“donkey　as　you　are；　you　think　that　no　one　can　do　anything　except　yourself。”
“Nor　they　can’t；　Squire；”　replied　Samuel　calmly；　which　closed　the　conversation。
On　another　occasion　there　was　a　frantic　row　about　a　certain　pheasant　which　was　supposed　to　have　e　to　its　end　unlawfully。　My　father　had　ordered　this　fowl　to　be　stuffed　that　it　might　be　produced　in　some　pending　legal　proceedings。　Samuel；　who　I　think　at　that　time　was　head…keeper　and　probably　knew　more　about　the　pheasant’s　end　than　my　father；　did　not　pay　the　slightest　attention　to　these　mands。　Then　came　the　row。
“Don’t　you　argue　with　me；　sir；”　said　my　father　to　Samuel；　who　for　the　last　ten　minutes　had　been　sitting　silent　with　his　eyes　fixed　upon　the　ceiling。　“Answer　me　without　further　prevarication。　Have　you　obeyed　my　orders　and　had　that　pheasant　stuffed？”
“Lor’！　Squire；”　replied　Samuel；　“you　stuffed　it　yourself　a　week　ago！”
On　inquiry　it　transpired　that　Samuel；　to　prevent　further　plications　and　awkward　questions；　had　prevailed　upon　the　cook　to　roast　that　pheasant　and　send　it　up　for　my　parent’s　dinner。　So　the　lawsuit　was　dropped。
My　father　was　a　regular　in　attendance　at　church。　We　always　sat　in　the　chancel　on　oak　benches　originally　designed　for　the　choir。　If　he　happened　to　be　in　time　himself　and　other　parishioners；　such　as　the　farmers’　daughters；　happened　to　be　late；　his　habit　was；　when　he　saw　them　enter；　to　step　into　the　middle　of　the　nave；　produce　a　very　large　old　watch　which　I　now　possess　—　for　on　his　death…bed　he　told　Hocking　to　give　it　to　me　—　and　hold　it　aloft　that　the　sinners　as　they　walked　up　the　church　might　bee　aware　of　the　enormity　of　their　offence。
He　always　read　the　Lessons　and　read　them　very　well。　There　were　certain　chapters；　however；　those　which　are　full　of　names　both　in　the　Old　and　New　Testaments；　which　were　apt　to　cause　difficulty。　It　was　not　that　he　was　unable　to　pronounce　these　names；　for　having　been　a　fair　scholar　in　his　youth　he　did　this　better　than　most。　Yet　when　he　had　finished　the　list　it　would　occur　to　him　that　they　might　have　been　rendered　more　satisfactorily。　So　he　would　go　back　to　the　beginning　and　read　them　all　through　again。
At　the　conclusion　of　the　service　no　one　in　the　church　ventured　to　stir　until　he　had　walked　down　it　slowly　and　taken　up　his　position　on　a　certain　spot　in　the　porch。　Here　he　stood　and　watched　the　congregation　emerge；　counting　them　like　sheep。
Notwithstanding　his　hot　temper；　foibles　and　tricks　of　manner；　there　was　something　about　him　that　made　him　extraordinarily　popular；　not　only　as　I　have　said　in　his　household　but　in　the　outside　world。　Thus　I　remember　that　once　the　Liberals　（needless　to　say　he　was　the　strongest　of　Conservatives）　offered　not　to　contest　the　division　if　he　would　consent　to　represent　it。　This；　however；　with　all　the　burden　of　his　large　family　on　his　back　he　could　not　afford　to　do。　It　is　a　pity；　for　I　am　sure　that　his　strong　personality；　backed　as　it　was　by　remarkable　shrewdness；　would　have　made　him　a　great　figure　in　the　House　of　mons　and　one　who　would　have　been　long　remembered。
In　many　ways　he　was　extraordinarily　able；　though；　if　one　may　say　so　of　a　man　who　was　so　very　much　a　man；　his　mind　had　certain　feminine　characteristics　that　for　aught　I　know　may　have　e　to　him　with　his　Russian　blood。　Thus　I　do　not　think　that　he　reasoned　very　much。　He　jumped　to　conclusions　as　a　woman　does；　and　those　conclusions；　although　often　exaggerated；　were　in　essence　very　rarely　wrong。　Indeed　I　never　knew　anyone　who　could　form　a　more　accurate　judgement　of　a　person　of　either　sex　after　a　few　minutes　of　conversation；　or　even　at　sight。　He　seemed　to　have　a　certain　power　of　summing　up　the　true　nature　of　man；　woman　or　child；　though　I　am　sure　that　he　did　not　in　the　least　know　upon　what　he　based　his　estimate。　It　must　not　be　supposed；　however；　that　he　was　by　any　means　shallow　or　superficial。　In　any　great　event　his　nature　revealed　an　innate　depth　and　dignity；　all　the　noise　that　he　was　so　fond　of　making　ceased　and　he　became　very　quiet。
Nobody　could　be　more　absolutely　delightful　than　my　father　when　he　chose；　and；　per　contra；　I　am　bound　to　add　that　nobody　could　be　more　disagreeable。　His　rows　with　his　children　were　many；　and　often　on　his　part　unjust。　One　of　the　causes　of　these　outbreaks　was　that　he　seemed　unable　to　realise　that　children　do　not　always　remain　children。
Once　when　I　was　a　young　man　in　Africa　—　it　was　just　before　I　was　appointed　Master　of　the　High　Court　in　the　Transvaal　—　I　was　very　anxious　to　e　home　after　several　years’　absence　from　England；　on　“urgent　private　affairs。”　To　be　frank；　I　desired　to　bring　a　certain　love　affair　to　a　head　by　a　formal　engagement；　which　there　was　no　doubt　I　could　have　done　at　that　time。
For　certain　reasons；　however；　it　was　impossible　for　me　to　get　leave　at　the　moment。　Yet　the　matter　was　one　that　would　admit　of　no　delay。　In　this　emergency　I　went　to　my　chief；　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone；　told　him　how　things　stood　and　obtained　a　promise　from　him　that　if　I　resigned　my　appointment　in　order　to　visit　England；　as　it　was　necessary　I　should　do；　he　would　make　arrangements　to　ensure　my　reappointment　either　to　that　or　to　some　other　billet　on　my　return。
I　suppose　that　I　did　not　make　all　this　quite　clear　in　my　letters　home；　and　almost　certainly　I　did　not　explain　why　it　was　necessary　for　me　to　e　home。　The　result　was　that　the　day　before　I　started；　after　I　had　sent　my　luggage　forward　to　Cape　Town；　I　received　a　most　painful　letter　from　my　father。　Evidently　he　thought　or　feared　that　I　was　abandoning　a　good　career　in　Africa　and　about　to　e　back　upon　his　hands。　Although　it　was　far　from　the　fact；　this　view　may　or　may　not　have　been　justified。　What　I　hold　even　now　was　not　justified　was　the　harsh　way　in　which　it　was　expressed。　The　words　I　have　forgotten；　for　I　destroyed　the　letter　many　years　ago；　immediately　upon　its　receipt；　I　think；　but　the　sting　of　them　after　so　long　an　absence　I　remember　well　enough；　though　some　four…and…thirty　years　have　passed　since　they　were　written；　a　generation　ago。
They　hurt　me　so　much　that　immediately　after　reading　them　I　withdrew　my　formal　resignation　and　cancelled　the　passage　I　had　taken　in　the　post…cart　to　Kimberley　en　route　for　the　Cape　and　England。　As　a　result　the　course　of　two　lives　was　changed。　The　lady　married　someone　else；　with　results　that　were　far　from　fortunate；　and　the　effect　upon　myself　was　not　good。　I　know　now　that　all　was　for　the　best　so　far　as　I　am　concerned；　and　in　these　events　I　see　the　workings　of　the　hand　of　Destiny。　Many；　I　am　aware；　will　think　this　a　hard　saying；　but　from　Job　down　man　has　found　it　difficult　to　escape　a　certain　faith　in　fatalism　which　even　St。　Paul　seems　to　have　accepted。
There’s　a　divinity　that　shapes　our　ends；
Rough…hew　them　how　we　will；
writes　the　inspired　Shakespeare；　and　who　shall　deny　that　he　writes　truth？　The　alternative　would　seem　to　be　the　acceptance　of　a　doctrine　of　blind　chance　which　I　confess　I　find　hideous。　Moreover；　if　it　is　to　prevail；　how　fearful　are　our　human　responsibilities。　Because　my　dear　father；　who　had　the　interests　of　all　his　children　so　closely　at　heart；　wrote　a　sharp　and　testy　letter；　probably　under　the　influence　of　some　other　irritation　of　which　I　know　nothing；　is　he　to　be　saddled　with　the　weight　of　all　the　consequences　of　that　letter？　Or　am　I　to　be　saddled　with　those　consequences　because　I　was　a　high…spirited　and　sensitive　young　man　who　took　the　letter　too　seriously？　If　we　knew　the　answers　to　these　questions　we　should　have　solved　the　meaning　of　the　secret　of　our　lives。　But　they　are　hidden　by　the　blackness　that　walls　us　in；　that　blackness　in　which　the　sphinx　will　speak　at　last　—　or　stay　for　ever　silent。
Meanwhile　the　moral　is　that　people　should　be　careful　of　what　they　put　on　paper。　When　we　throw　a　stone　into　the　sea；　who　knows　where　the　ripple　ends？
To　return　—　these　rows　at　Bradenham；　niy…nine　out　of　a　hundred　of　which　meant　nothing　at　all；　had　a　very　ical　side　to　them。　Perhaps　they　sprang　up　at　table　on　the　occasion　of　an　argument　between　my　father　and　one　of　his　sons。　Then　he　would　rise　majestically；　announce　in　solemn　tones　that　he　refused　to　be　insulted　in　his　own　house；　and　depart；　banging　the　door　loudly　behind　him。　Across　the　hall　he　went　into　the　drawing…room　and　banged　that　door；　out　of　the　drawing…room　into　the　vestibule　（here　there　are　two　doors；　so　the　bang　was　double…barrelled）；　through　the　vestibule　into　the　garden；　if　the　row　was　of　the　first　magnitude。　If　not　he　banged　his　way　back　into　the　dining…room　by　the　serving　entrance；　and　very　probably　sat　doper；　the　exercise　having　relieved　his　feelings。　Especially　was　this　so　if　the　offending　son　had　banged　himself　out　of　the　house　by　some　other　route。
Only　the　other　day　I　examined　those　Bradenham　doors　and　their　hinges。　The　workmanship　of　them　is　really　wonderful。　After　half　a　century　of　banging　added　to　their　ordinary　wear；　they　are　as　good　as　when　they　were　made。　We　do　not　see　such　joinery　nowadays。
Considered　as　a　whole　it　would　have　been　difficult　to　find　a　more　jovial　party　than　we　were　at　Bradenham　in　the　days　of　my　youth；　especially　when　my　father　was　in　a　good　mood。　The　noise　of　course　was　tremendous；　because　everybody　had　plenty　to　say　and　was　fully　determined　that　it　should　not　be　hidden　from　the　world。　In　the　midst　of　all　this　hubbub　sat　my　dearest　mother　—　like　an　angel　that　had　lost　her　way　and　found　herself　in　pandemonium。　Not　being　blest　with　the　Haggard　voice；　though　she　had　a　very　sweet　one　of　her　own；　often　and　often　she　was　reduced　to　the　necessity　of　signifying　her　wishes　by　signs。　Indeed　it　became　a　habit　of　hers；　if　she　needed　the　salt　or　anything　else；　to　point　to　it；　and　beckon　it　towards　her。　One　of　her　daughters…inlaw　once　asked　my　mother　how　on　earth　she　made　herself　heard　in　the　midst　of　so　much　noise　at　table。
“My　dear；”　she　answered；　“I　whisper！　When　I　whisper　they　all　stop　talking；　because　they　wonder　what　is　the　matter。　Then　I　get　my　chance。”
Here　I　will　try　to　give　some　description　of　this　mother　with　whom　we　were　blest。　Twenty…two　years　have　passed　since　she　left　us；　but　I　can　say　honestly　that　every　one　of　those　years　has　brought　me　to　a　deeper　appreciation　of　her　beautiful　character。　Indeed　she　seems　to　be　much　nearer　to　me　now　that　she　is　dead　than　she　was　while　she　still　lived。　It　is　as　though　our　intimacy　and　mutual　understanding　has　grown　in　a　way　as　real　as　it　is　mysterious。　Someone　says　that　the　dead　are　never　dead　to　us　until　they　are　forgotten；　and　if　that　be　so；　in　my　case　my　mother　lives　indeed。　No　night　goes　by　that　I　do　not　think　of　her　and　pray　that　we　may　meet　again　to　part　no　more。　If　our　present　positions　were　reversed；　this　would　please　me；　could　I　know　of　it；　and　so　I　trust　that　this　offering　of　a　son’s　unalterable　gratitude　and　affection　may　please　her；　for　after　all　such　things　are　the　most　fragrant　flowers　that　we　can　lay　upon　the　graves　of　our　beloved。　The　Protestant　Faith　seems　vaguely　to　inculcate　that　we　should　not　pray　for　the　dead。　If　so；　I　differ　from　the　Protestant　Faith；　who　hold　that　we　should　not　only　pray　for　them　but　to　them；　that　they　will　judge　our　frailties　with　tenderness　and　will　not　forget　us　who　do　not　forget　them。　Even　if　the　message　is　delivered　only　after　ten　thousand　years；　it　will　still　be　a　message　that　most　of　us　would　be　glad　to　hear；　and　if　it　is　never　delivered　at　all；　still　it　will　have　been　sent；　and　what　can　man　do　more？
I　know　that　my　mother　believed　that　such　efforts　are　not　in　vain；　for　she　was　filled　with　a　very　earnest　faith。　After　her　death；　in　the　drawer　of　her　writing…table　were　found　four　lines；　feebly　inscribed　in　pencil；　which　are　believed　to　be　the　last　words　she　wrote。　They　are　before　me　now　and　I　transcribe　them：
Lo！　in　the　shadowy　valley　here　He　stands：
？My　soul　pale　sliding　down　Earth’s　icy　slope
Descends　to　meet　Him；　with　beseeching　hands
？Trembling　with　Fear　—　and　yet　upraised　in　Hope。
My　mother　was　married　when　she　was　twenty…five　years　of　age；　and　children　came　in　what　ladies　nowadays　would　consider　superabundance。　The　eldest；　my　sister　Ella；　was　born　in　Rome　in　March　1845；　while　they　were　still　upon　a　marriage　tour；　and　subsequently；　in　quick　succession；　the　others　followed。　The　last　of　us；　my　brother