a new england girlhood-第10章

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　do　all　his　wishing　for　him；　and　she；　unsatisfied　still；　though　she　had　been　made　first　an　immensely　rich　woman；　and　then　a　great　queen；　at　last　sent　her　husband　to　ask　that　they　two　might　be　made　rulers　over　the　sun；　moon；　and　stars。

As　my　sister　went　on　with　the　story；　I　could　see　the　waves　grow　black；　and　could　hear　the　wind　mutter　and　growl；　while　the　fisherman　called　for　the　first；　second；　and　then　reluctantly；　for　the　third　time：

〃O　Man　of　the　Sea；　Come　listen　to　me！　For　Alice　my　wife；　The　plague　of　my　life；　Has　sent　me　to　beg　a　boon　of　thee！〃

As　his　call　died　away　on　the　sullen　wind；　the　mysterious　〃Man　of　the　Sea〃　rose　in　his　wrath　out　of　the　billows；　and　said；

〃Go　back　to　your　old　mud　hut；　and　stay　there　with　your　wife　Alice；　and　never　come　to　trouble　me　again。〃

I　sympathized　with　the　〃Man　of　the　Sea〃　in　his　righteous　indignation　at　the　conduct　of　the　greedy；　grasping　woman；　and　the　moral　of　the　story　remained　with　me；　as　the　story　itself　did。　I　think　I　understood　dimly；　even　then；　that　mean　avarice　and　self…　seeking　ambition　always　find　their　true　level　in　muddy　earth；　never　among　the　stars。

So　it　proved　that　my　dear　mother…sister　was　preparing　me　for　life　when　she　did　not　know　it；　when　she　thought　she　was　only　amusing　me。

This　sister；　though　only　just　entering　her　teens；　was　toughening　herself　by　all　sorts　of　unnecessary　hardships　for　whatever　might　await　her　womanhood。　She　used　frequently　to　sleep　in　the　garret　on　a　hard　wooden　sea…chest　instead　of　in　a　bed。　And　she　would　get　up　before　daylight　and　run　over　into　the　burying…ground；　barefooted　and　white…robed　（we　lived　for　two　or　three　years　in　another　house　than　our　own；　where　the　oldest　graveyard　in　town　was　only　separated　from　us　by　our　garden　fence）；　〃to　see　if　there　were　any　ghosts　there；〃　she　told　us。　　Returning　noiselessly；　herself　a　smiling　phantom；　with　long；　golden…brown　hair　rippling　over　her　shoulders；she　would　drop　a　trophy　upon　her　little　sisters'　pillow；　in　the　shape　of　a　big；　yellow　apple　that　had　dropped　from　〃the　Colonel's〃　〃pumpkin　sweeting〃　tree　into　the　graveyard；　close　to　our　fence。

She　was　fond　of　giving　me　surprises；　of　watching　my　wonder　at　seeing　anything　beautiful　or　strange　for　the　first　time。　Once；　when　I　was　very　little；　she　made　me　supremely　happy　by　rousing　me　before　four　o'clock　in　the　morning；　dressing　me　hurriedly；　and　taking　me　out　with　her　for　a　walk　across　the　graveyard　and　through　the　dewy　fields。　The　birds　were　singing；　and　the　sun　was　just　rising；　and　we　were　walking　toward　the　east；　hand　in　hand；　when　suddenly　there　appeared　before　us　what　looked　to　me　like　an　immense　blue　wall；　stretching　right　and　left　as　far　as　I　could　see。

〃Oh；　what　is　it　the　wall　of？〃　I　cried。

It　was　a　revelation　she　had　meant　for　me。　〃So　you　did　not　know　it　was　the　sea；　little　girl！〃　she　said。

It　was　a　wonderful　illusion　to　My　unaccustomed　eyes；　and　I　took　in　at　that　moment　for　the　first　time　something　of　the　real　grandeur　of　the　ocean。　Not　a　sail　was　in　sight；　and　the　blue　expanse　was　scarcely　disturbed　by　a　ripple；　for　it　was　the　high…　tide　calm。　That　morning's　freshness；　that　vision　of　the　sea；　I　know　I　can　never　lose。

》From　our　garret　windowand　the　garret　was　my　usual　retreat　when　I　wanted　to　get　away　by　myself　with　my　books　or　my　dreamswe　had　the　distant　horizon…line　of　the　bay；　across　a　quarter　of　a　mile　of　trees　and　mowing　fields。　We　could　see　the　white　breakers　dashing　against　the　long　narrow　island　just　outside　of　the　harbor；　which　I；　with　my　childish　misconstruction　of　names；　called　〃Breakers'　Island〃；　supposing　that　the　grown　people　had　made　a　mistake　when　they　spoke　of　it　as　〃Baker's。〃　But　that　far…　off；　shining　band　of　silver　and　blue　seemed　so　different　from　the　whole　great　sea；　stretching　out　as　if　into　eternity　from　the　feet　of　the　baby　on　the　shore！

The　marvel　was　not　lessened　when　I　began　to　study　geography；　and　comprehended　that　the　world　is　round。　Could　it　really　be　that　we　had　that　endless　〃Atlantic　Ocean〃　to　look　at　from　our　window；　to　dance　along　the　edge　of；　to　wade　into　or　bathe　in；　if　we　chose？　The　map　of　the　world　became　more　interesting　to　me　than　any　of　the　story…books。　In　my　fanciful　explorations　I　out…traveled　Captain　Cook；　the　only　voyager　around　the　world　with　whose　name　my　childhood　was　familiar。

The　field…paths　were　safe；　and　I　was　allowed　to　wander　off　alone　through　them。　I　greatly　enjoyed　the　freedom　of　a　solitary　explorer　among　the　seashells　and　wild　flowers。

There　were　wonders　everywhere。　One　day　I　picked　up　a　star…fish　on　the　beach　（we　called　it　a　〃five…finger〃）；　and　hung　him　on　a　tree　to　dry；　not　thinking　of　him　as　a　living　creature。　When　I　went　some　time　after　to　take　him　down　he　had　elasped　with　two　or　three　of　his　fingers　the　bough　where　I　laid　him；　so　that　he　could　not　be　removed　without　breaking　his　hardened　shell。　My　conscience　smote　me　when　I　saw　what　an　unhappy　looking　skeleton　I　had　made　of　him。

I　overtook　the　horse…shoe　crab　on　the　sands；　but　I　did　not　like　to　turn　him　over　and　make　him　〃say　his　prayers；〃　as　some　of　the　children　did。　I　thought　it　must　be　wicked。　And　then　he　looked　so　uncomfortable；　imploringly　wriggling　his　claws　while　he　lay　upon　his　back！　I　believe　I　did；　however；　make　a　small　collection　of　the　shells　of　stranded　horseshoe　crabs　deserted　by　their　tenants。

There　were　also　pretty　canary…colored　cockle…shells　and　tiny　purple　mussels　washed　up　by　the　tide。　I　gathered　them　into　my　apron；　and　carried　them　home；　and　only　learned　that　they　too　held　living　inhabitants　by　seeing　a　dead　snail　protruding　from　every　shell　after　they　had　been　left　to　themselves　for　a　day　or　two。　This　made　me　careful　to　pick　up　only　the　empty　ones；　and　there　were　plenty　of　them。　One　we　called　a　〃butterboat〃；　it　had　something　shaped　like　a　seat　across　the　end　of　it　on　the　inside。　And　the　curious　sea…urchin；　that　looked　as　if　he　was　made　only　for　ornament；　when　he　had　once　got　rid　of　his　spines；　and　the　transparent　jelly…fish；　that　seemed　to　have　no　more　right　to　be　alive　than　a　ladleful　of　mucilage；and　the　razor…shells；　and　the　barnacles；　and　the　knotted　kelp；　and　the　flabby　green　sea…aprons；　there　was　no　end　to　the　interesting　things　I　found　when　I　was　trusted　to　go　down　to　the　edge　of　the　tide　alone。

The　tide　itself　was　the　greatest　marvel；　slipping　away　so　noiselessly；　and　creeping　back　so　softly　over　the　flats；　whispering　as　it　reached　the　sands；　and　laughing　aloud　〃I　am　coming！〃　as；　dashing　against　the　rocks；　it　drove　me　back　to　where　the　sea…lovage　and　purple　beach…peas　had　dared　to　root　themselves。　I　listened；　and　felt　through　all　my　little　being　that　great；　surging　word　of　power；　but　had　no　guess　of　its　meaning。　I　can　think　of　it　now　as　the　eternal　voice　of　Law；　ever　returning　to　the　green；　blossoming；　beautiful　verge　of　Gospel　truth；　to　confirm　its　later　revelation；　and　to　say　that　Law　and　Gospel　belong　together。　〃The　sea　is　His；　and　He　made　it：　and　His　hands　formed　the　dry　land。〃

And　the　dry　land；　the　very　dust　of　the　earth；　every　day　revealed　to　me　some　new　miracle　of　a　flower。　Coming　home　from　school　one　warm　noon；　I　chanced　to　look　down；　and　saw　for　the　first　time　the　dry　roadside　all　starred　with　lavender…tinted　flowers；　scarcely　larger　than　a　pin…head；　fairy…flowers；　indeed；　prettier　than　anything　that　grew　in　gardens。　It　was　the　red　sand…wort；　but　why　a　purple　flower　should　be　called　red；　I　do　not　know。　I　remember　holding　these　little　amethystine　blossoms　like　jewels　in　the　palm　of　my　hand；　and　wondering　whether　people　who　walked　along　that　road　knew　what　beautiful　things　they　were　treading　upon。　I　never　found　the　flower　open　except　at　noonday；　when　the　sun　was　hottest。　The　rest　of　the　time　it　was　nothing　but　an　insignificant；　dusty…leaved　weed；a　weed　that　was　transformed　into　a　flower　only　for　an　hour　or　two　every　day。　It　seemed　like　magic。

The　busy　people　at　home　could　tell　me　very　little　about　the　wild　flowers；　and　when　I　found　a　new　one　I　thought　I　was　its　discoverer。　I　can　see　myself　now　leaning　in　ecstasy　over　a　small；　rough…leaved　purple　aster　in　a　lonely　spot　on　the　hill；　and　thinking　that　nobody　else　in　all　the　world　had　ever　beheld　such　a　flower　before；　because　I　never　had。　I　did　not　know　then；　that　the　flower…generations　are　older　than　the　human　race。

The　commonest　blossoms　were；　after　all；　the　dearest；　because　they　were　so　familiar。　Very　few　of　us　lived　upon　carpeted　floors；　but　soft　green　grass　stretched　away　from　our　door…steps；　all　golden　with　dandelions　in　spring。　Those　dandelion　fields　were　like　another　heaven　dropped　down　upon　the　earth；　where　our　feet　wandered　at　will　among　the　stars。　What　need　had　we　of　luxurious　upholstery；　when　we　could　step　out　into　such　splendor；　from　the　humblest　door？

The　dandelions　could　tell　us　secrets；　too。　We　blew　the　fuzz　off　their　gray　beads；　and　made　them　answer　our　question；　〃Does　my　mother　want　me　to　come　home？〃　Or　we　sat　down　together　in　the　velvety　grass；　and　wove　chains　for　our　necks　and　wrists　of　the　dandelion…sterns；　and　〃made　believe〃　we　were　brides；　or　queens；　or　empresses。

Then　there　was　the　white　rock…saxifrage；　that　filled　the　crevices　of　the　ledges　with　soft；　tufty　bloom　like　lingering　snow…drifts；　our　May…flower；　that　brought　us　the　first　message　of　spring。　There　was　an　elusive　sweetness　in　its　almost　imperceptible　breath；　which　one　could　only　get　by　smelling　it　in　close　bunches。　Its　companion　was　the　tiny　four…cleft　innocence…flower；　that　drifted　pale　sky…tints　across　the　chilly　fields。　Both　came　to　us　in　crowds；　and　looked　out　with　us；　as　they　do　with　the　small　girls　and　boys　of　to…day；　from　the　windy　crest　of　Powder　House　Hill；the　one　playground　of　my　childhood　which　is　left　to　the　children　and　the　cows　just　as　it　was　then。　We　loved　these　little　democratic　blossoms；　that　gathered　around　us　in　mobs　at　our　May　Day　rejoicings。　It　is　doubtful　whether　we　should　have　loved　the　trailing　arbutus　any　better；　had　it　strayed；　as　it　never　did；　into　our　woods。

Violets　and　anemones　played　at　hide…and…seek　with　us　in　shady　places。　The　gay　columbine　rooted　herself　among　the　bleak　rocks；　and　laughed　and　nodded　in　the　face　of　the　east　wind；　coquettishly　wasting　the　show　of　her　finery　on　the　frowning　air。　Bluebirds　twittered　over　the　dandelions　in　spring。　In　midsummer；　goldfinches　warbled　among　the　thistle…tops；　and；　high　above　the　bird…congregations；　the　song…sparrow　sent　forth　her　clear；　warm；　penetrating　trill；sunshine　translated　into　music。

We　were　not　surfeited；　in　those　days；　with　what　is　called　pleasure；　but　we　grew　up　happy　and　healthy；　learning　unconsciously　the　useful　lesson　of　doing　without。　The　birds　and　blossoms　hardly　won　a　gladder　or　more　wholesome　life　from　the　air　of　our　homely　New　England　than　we　did。

〃Out　of　the　strong　came　forth　sweetness。〃　The　Beatitudes　are　the　natural　flowering…forth　of　the　Ten　Commandments。　And　the　happiness　of　our　lives　was　rooted　in　the　stern；　vigorous　virtues　of　the　people　we　lived　among；　drawing　thence　its　bloom　and　song；　and　fragrance。　There　was　granite　in　their　character　and　beliefs；　but　it　was　granite　that　could　smile　in　the　sunshine　and　clothe　itself　with　flowers。　We　little　ones　felt　the　firm　rock　beneath　us；　and　were　lifted　up　on　it；　to　emulate　their　goodness；　and　to　share　their　aspirations。

V。

OLD　NEW　ENGLAND。

WHEN　I　first　opened　my　eyes