第 50 节
作者:左思右想      更新:2021-02-20 04:45      字数:9322
  while the pump freezes every day; and there is no
  earthly amusement; and no society!  Poor things!
  Can't you influence him to move?  No wonder she gads when
  she has a chance!  I should die。  If you are thinking
  of settling in the country; think also of a woman who
  is satisfied with white and brown to accompany you!
  Brown!  Of all deadly colours!  I should go mad in brown。〃
  Elnora laughed while she read。  Her face was dimpling;
  as she returned the sheet。  〃Who's ahead?〃 she asked。
  〃Who do you think?〃 he parried。
  〃She is;〃 said Elnora。  〃Are you going to tell her
  in your next that R。 B。 Grosbeak is a bird; and that he
  probably will spend the winter in a wild plum thicket
  in Tennessee?〃
  〃No;〃 said Philip。  〃I shall tell her that I understand her
  ideas of life perfectly; and; of course; I never
  shall ask her to deal with oily butter and frozen pumps〃
  〃and measley babies;〃 interpolated Elnora。
  〃Exactly!〃 said Philip。  〃At the same time I find so
  much to counterbalance those things; that I should not
  object to bearing them myself; in view of the recompense。
  Where do we go and what do we do to…day?〃
  〃We will have to hunt beside the roads and around the
  edge of the Limberlost to…day;〃 said Elnora。  〃Mother is
  making strawberry preserves; and she can't come until
  she finishes。  Suppose we go down to the swamp and
  I'll show you what is left of the flower…room that
  Terence O'More; the big lumber man of Great Rapids;
  made when he was a homeless boy here。  Of course;
  you have heard the story?〃
  〃Yes; and I've met the O'Mores who are frequently
  in Chicago society。  They have friends there。  I think
  them one ideal couple。〃
  〃That sounds as if they might be the only one;〃 said
  Elnora; 〃and; indeed; they are not。  I know dozens。
  Aunt Margaret and Uncle Wesley are another; the Brownlees
  another; and my mathematics professor and his wife。
  The world is full of happy people; but no one ever hears
  of them。  You must fight and make a scandal to get into
  the papers。  No one knows about all the happy people。
  I am happy myself; and look how perfectly inconspicuous
  I am。〃
  〃You only need go where you will be seen;〃 began
  Philip; when he remembered and finished。  〃What do
  we take to…day?〃
  〃Ourselves;〃 said Elnora。  〃I have a vagabond streak in
  my blood and it's in evidence。  I am going to show you
  where real flowers grow; real birds sing; and if I feel quite
  right about it; perhaps I shall raise a note or two myself。〃
  〃Oh; do you sing?〃 asked Philip politely。
  〃At times;〃 answered Elnora。  〃‘As do the birds;
  because I must;' but don't be scared。  The mood does
  not possess me often。  Perhaps I shan't raise a note。〃
  They went down the road to the swamp; climbed the
  snake fence; followed the path to the old trail and then
  turned south upon it。  Elnora indicated to Philip the
  trail with remnants of sagging barbed wire。
  〃It was ten years ago;〃 she said。  〃I was a little school
  girl; but I wandered widely even then; and no one cared。
  I saw him often。  He had been in a city institution all his
  life; when he took the job of keeping timber thieves out of
  this swamp; before many trees had been cut。  It was a
  strong man's work; and he was a frail boy; but he grew
  hardier as he lived out of doors。  This trail we are on is
  the path his feet first wore; in those days when he was
  insane with fear and eaten up with loneliness; but he stuck
  to his work and won out。  I used to come down to the road
  and creep among the bushes as far as I dared; to watch
  him pass。  He walked mostly; at times he rode a wheel。
  〃Some days his face was dreadfully sad; others it was
  so determined a little child could see the force in it; and
  once he was radiant。  That day the Swamp Angel was
  with him。  I can't tell you what she was like。  I never
  saw any one who resembled her。  He stopped close here
  to show her a bird's nest。  Then they went on to a sort of
  flower…room he had made; and he sang for her。  By the
  time he left; I had gotten bold enough to come out on
  the trail; and I met the big Scotchman Freckles lived with。
  He saw me catching moths and butterflies; so he took me
  to the flower…room and gave me everything there。
  I don't dare come alone often; so I can't keep it up as
  he did; but you can see something of how it was。〃
  Elnora led the way and Philip followed。  The outlines
  of the room were not distinct; because many of the
  trees were gone; but Elnora showed how it had been as
  nearly as she could。
  〃The swamp is almost ruined now;〃 she said。  〃The maples;
  walnuts; and cherries are all gone。  The talking trees
  are the only things left worth while。〃
  〃The ‘talking trees!'  I don't understand;〃 commented Philip。
  〃No wonder!〃 laughed Elnora。  〃They are my discovery。
  You know all trees whisper and talk during the summer;
  but there are two that have so much to say they keep on
  the whole winter; when the others are silent。  The beeches
  and oaks so love to talk; they cling to their dead;
  dry leaves。  In the winter the winds are stiffest
  and blow most; so these trees whisper; chatter; sob;
  laugh; and at times roar until the sound is deafening。
  They never cease until new leaves come out in the spring
  to push off the old ones。  I love to stand beneath them
  with my ear to the trunks; interpreting what they say
  to fit my moods。  The beeches branch low; and their
  leaves are small so they only know common earthly things;
  but the oaks run straight above almost all other trees
  before they branch; their arms are mighty; their leaves large。
  They meet the winds that travel around the globe; and from
  them learn the big things。〃
  Philip studied the girls face。  〃What do the beeches
  tell you; Elnora?〃 he asked gently。
  〃To be patient; to be unselfish; to do unto others as
  I would have them do to me。〃
  〃And the oaks?〃
  〃They say ‘be true;' ‘live a clean life;' ‘send your soul
  up here and the winds of the world will teach it what
  honour achieves。'〃
  〃Wonderful secrets; those!〃 marvelled Philip。  〃Are they
  telling them now?  Could I hear?〃
  〃No。  They are only gossiping now。  This is play…time。
  They tell the big secrets to a white world; when the
  music inspires them。〃
  〃The music?〃
  〃All other trees are harps in the winter。  Their trunks are
  the frames; their branches the strings; the winds the musicians。
  When the air is cold and clear; the world very white; and
  the harp music swelling; then the talking trees tell the
  strengthening; uplifting things。〃
  〃You wonderful girl!〃 cried Philip。  〃What a woman
  you will be!〃
  〃If I am a woman at all worth while; it will be because
  I have had such wonderful opportunities;〃 said Elnora。
  〃Not every girl is driven to the forest to learn what God
  has to say there。  Here are the remains of Freckles's room。
  The time the Angel came here he sang to her; and I listened。
  I never heard music like that。  No wonder she loved him。
  Every one who knew him did; and they do yet。  Try that
  log; it makes a fairly good seat。  This old store box
  was his treasure house; just as it's now mine。  I will
  show you my dearest possession。  I do not dare take
  it home because mother can't overcome her dislike for it。
  It was my father's; and in some ways I am like him。
  This is the strongest。〃
  Elnora lifted the violin and began to play。  She wore
  a school dress of green gingham; with the sleeves rolled to
  the elbows。  She seemed a part of the setting all around her。
  Her head shone like a small dark sun; and her face never
  had seemed so rose…flushed and fair。  From the instant
  she drew the bow; her lips parted and her eyes turned
  toward something far away in the swamp; and never did
  she give more of that impression of feeling for her notes
  and repeating something audible only to her。  Philip was
  too close to get the best effect。  He arose and stepped back
  several yards; leaning against a large tree; looking and
  listening intently。
  As he changed positions he saw that Mrs。 Comstock had
  followed them; and was standing on the trail; where she
  could not have helped hearing everything Elnora had said。
  So to Philip before her and the mother watching on the
  trail; Elnora played the Song of the Limberlost。  It seemed
  as if the swamp hushed all its other voices and spoke
  only through her dancing bow。  The mother out on the
  trail had heard it all; once before from the girl; many
  times from her father。  To the man it was a revelation。
  He stood so stunned he forgot Mrs。 Comstock。  He tried
  to realize what a city audience would say to that music;
  from such a player; with a similar background; and he
  could not imagine。
  He was wondering what he dared say; how much he might
  express; when the last note fell and the girl laid the
  violin in the case; closed the door; locked it and hid the
  key in th