twilight stories-第13部分

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　　For；　eschewing　books　and　tasks；

　　Nature　answers　all　he　asks；

　　Hand　in　hand　with　her　he　walks；

　　Face　to　face　with　her　he　talks

　　Part　and　parcel　of　her　joy。

　　Blessings　on　thee；　barefoot　boy！



　O　for　boyhood's　time　of　June；

　　Crowding　years　in　one　brief　moon；

　　When　all　things　I　heard　or　saw；

　　Me；　their　master；　waited　for！

　　I　was　rich　in　flowers　and　trees；

　　Humming…birds　and　honey…bees；

　　For　my　sport　the　squirrel　played；

　　Plied　the　snouted　mole　his　spade；

　　For　my　taste　the　blackberry　cone

　　Purpled　over　hedge　and　stone；

　　Laughed　the　brook　for　my　delight；

　　Through　the　day　and　through　the　night；

　　Whispering　at　the　garden　wall；

　　Talked　with　me　from　fall　to　fall；



　Mine　the　sand…rimmed　pickerel　pond；

　　Mine　the　walnut　slopes　beyond；

　　Mine；　on　bending　orchard　trees；

　　Apples　of　Hesperides！

　　Still；　as　my　horizon　grew；

　　Larger　grew　my　riches　too；

　　All　the　world　I　saw　or　knew

　　Seemed　a　complex　Chinese　toy；

　　Fashioned　for　a　barefoot　boy！



　O！　　for　festal　dainties　spread；

　　Like　my　bowl　of　milk　and　bread；

　　Pewter　spoon　and　bowl　of　wood；

　　On　the　door…stone；　gray　and　rude！

　　O'er　me；　like　a　regal　tent；

　　Cloudy…ribbed；　the　sunset　bent：　

　　Purple…curtained；　fringed　with　gold；

　　Looped　in　many　a　wind…swung　fold；

　　While；　for　music；　came　the　play

　　Of　the　pied　frogs'　orchestra；

　　And；　to　light　the　noisy　choir；

　　Lit　the　fly　his　lamp　of　fire。

　　I　was　monarch；　pomp　and　joy

　　Waited　on　the　barefoot　boy。



　Cheerily　then；　my　little　man！

　　Live　and　laugh　as　boyhood　can；

　　Though　the　flinty　slopes　be　hard；

　　Stubble…speared　the　new…mown　sward；

　　Every　morn　shall　lead　thee　through

　　Fresh　baptisms　of　the　dew；

　　Every　evening　from　thy　feet

　　Shall　the　cool　wind　kiss　the　heat；



　All　too　soon　those　feet　must　hide

　　In　the　prison…cells　of　pride；

　　Lose　the　freedom　of　the　sod；

　　Like　a　colt's　for　work　be　shod；

　　Made　to　tread　the　mills　of　toil；

　　Up　and　down　in　ceaseless　moil：

　　Happy　if　their　track　be　found

　　Never　on　forbidden　ground；

　　Happy　if　they　sink　not　in

　　Quick　and　treacherous　sands　of　sin。

　　Ah！　　that　thou　couldst　know　thy　joy；

　　Ere　it　passes；　barefoot　boy！

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　JOHN　GREENLEAF　WHITTIER。







　Gallop；　gallop！　　far　away。

　　Pony　and　I　are　going　today。

　　Please　get　out　of　our　way；

　　Don't　ask　us　to　stay；

　　We'll　both　come　back

　　Some　sunshiny　day。







BABOUSCKA。



If　you　were　a　Russian　child　you　would　not　watch　to　see　Santa

Klaus　come　down　the　chimney；　but　you　would　stand　by　the　windows

to　catch　a　peep　at　poor　Babouscka　as　she　hurries　by。



Who　is　Babouscka？　　Is　she　Santa　Klaus'　wife？



No；　indeed。　　She　is　only　a　poor　little　crooked　wrinkled　old

woman；　who　comes　at　Christmas　time　into　everybody's　house；　who

peeps　into　every　cradle；　turns　back　every　coverlid；　drops　a　tear

on　the　baby's　white　pillow；　and　goes　away　very；　very　sorrowful。



And　not　only　at　Christmas　time；　but　through　all　the　cold　winter；

and　especially　in　March；　when　the　wind　blows　loud；　and　whistles

and　howls　and　dies　away　like　a　sigh；　the　Russian　children　hear

the　rustling　step　of　the　Babouscka。　　She　is　always　in　a　hurry。　

One　hears　her　running　fast　along　the　crowded　streets　and　over　the

quiet　country　fields。　　She　seems　to　be　out　of　breath　and　tired；

yet　she　hurries　on。



Whom　is　she　trying　to　overtake？



She　scarcely　looks　at　the　little　children　as　they　press　their

rosy　faces　against　the　window　pane　and　whisper　to　each　other；　〃Is

the　Babouscka　looking　for　us？〃



No；　she　will　not　stop；　only　on　Christmas　eve　will　she　come

up…stairs　into　the　nursery　and　give　each　little　one　a　present。　

You　must　not　think　she　leaves　handsome　gifts　such　as　Santa　Klaus

brings　for　you。　　She　does　not　bring　bicycles　to　the　boys　or

French　dolls　to　the　girls。　　She　does　not　come　in　a　gay　little

sleigh　drawn　by　reindeer；　but　hobbling　along　on　foot；　and　she

leans　on　a　crutch。　　She　has　her　old　apron　filled　with　candy　and

cheap　toys；　and　the　children　all　love　her　dearly。　　They　watch　to

see　her　come；　and　when　one　hears　a　rustling；　he　cries；　〃Lo！　　the

Babouscka！〃　then　all　others　look；　but　one　must　turn　one's　head

very　quickly　or　she　vanishes。　　I　never　saw　her　myself。



Best　of　all；　she　loves　little　babies；　and　often；　when　the　tired

mothers　sleep；　she　bends　over　their　cradles；　puts　her　brown；

wrinkled　face　close　down　to　the　pillow　and　looks　very　sharply。



What　is　she　looking　for？



Ah；　that　you　can't　guess　unless　you　know　her　sad　story。



Long；　long　ago；　a　great　many　yesterdays　ago；　the　Babouscka；　who

was　even　then　an　old　woman；　was　busy　sweeping　her　little　hut。　

She　lived　in　the　coldest　corner　of　cold　Russia；　and　she　lived

alone　in　a　lonely　place　where　four　wide　roads　met。　　These　roads

were　at　this　time　white　with　snow；　for　it　was　winter　time。　　In

the　summer；　when　the　fields　were　full　of　flowers　and　the　air　full

of　sunshine　and　singing　birds；　Babouscka's　home　did　not　seem　so

very　quiet；　but　in　the　winter；　with　only　the　snowflakes　and　the

shy　snow…birds　and　the　loud　wind　for　company；　the　little　old

woman　felt　very　cheerless。　　But　she　was　a　busy　old　woman；　and　as

it　was　already　twilight；　and　her　home　but　half　swept；　she　felt　in

a　great　hurry　to　finish　her　work　before　bedtime。　　You　must　know

the　Babouscka　was　poor　and　could　not　afford　to　do　her　work　by

candle…light。



Presently；　down　the　widest　and　the　lonesomest　of　the　white　roads；

there　appeared　a　long　train　of　people　coming。　　They　were　walking

slowly；　and　seemed　to　be　asking　each　other　questions　as　to　which

way　they　should　take。　　As　the　procession　came　nearer；　and　finally

stopped　outside　the　little　hut；　Babouscka　was　frightened　at　the

splendor。　　There　were　Three　Kings；　with　crowns　on　their　heads；

and　the　jewels　on　the　Kings'　breastplates　sparkled　like　sunlight。　

Their　heavy　fur　cloaks　were　white　with　the　falling　snow…flakes；

and　the　queer　humpy　camels　on　which　they　rode　looked　white　as

milk　in　the　snow…storm。　　The　harness　on　the　camels　was　decorated

with　gold；　and　plates　of　silver　adorned　the　saddles。　　The

saddle…cloths　were　of　the　richest　Eastern　stuffs；　and　all　the

servants　had　the　dark　eyes　and　hair　of　an　Eastern　people。



The　slaves　carried　heavy　loads　on　their　backs；　and　each　of　the

Three　Kings　carried　a　present。　　One　carried　a　beautiful

transparent　jar；　and　in　the　fading　light　Babouscka　could　see　in

it　a　golden　liquid　which　she　knew　from　its　color　must　be　myrrh。　

Another　had　in　his　hand　a　richly　woven　bag；　and　it　seemed　to　be

heavy；　as　indeed　it　was；　for　it　was　full　of　gold。　　The　third　had

a　stone　vase　in　his　hand；　and　from　the　rich　perfume　which　filled

the　snowy　air；　one　could　guess　the　vase　to　have　been　filled　with

incense。



Babouscka　was　terribly　frightened；　so　she　hid　herself　in　her　hut；

and　let　the　servants　knock　a　long　time　at　her　door　before　she

dared　open　it　and　answer　their　questions　as　to　the　road　they

should　take　to　a　far…away　town。　　You　know　she　had　never　studied　a

geography　lesson　in　her　life；　was　old　and　stupid　and　scared。　　She

knew　the　way　across　the　fields　to　the　nearest　village；　but　she

know　nothing　else　of　all　the　wide　world　full　of　cities。　　The

servants　scolded；　but　the　Three　Kings　spoke　kindly　to　her；　and

asked　her　to　accompany　them　on　their　journey　that　she　might　show

them　the　way　as　far　as　she　knew　it。　　They　told　her；　in　words　so

simple　that　she　could　not　fail　to　understand；　that　they　had　seen

a　Star　in　the　sky　and　were　following　it　to　a　little　town　where　a

young　Child　lay。　　The　snow　was　in　the　sky　now；　and　the　Star　was

lost　out　of　sight。



〃Who　is　the　Child？〃　asked　the　old　woman。



〃He　is　a　King；　and　we　go　to　worship　him；〃　they　answered。　　〃These

presents　of　gold；　frankincense　and　myrrh　are　for　Him。　　　When　we

find　Him　we　will　take　the　crowns　off　our　heads　and　lay　them　at

His　feet。　　Come　with　us；　Babouscka！〃



What　do　you　suppose？　　Shouldn't　you　have　thought　the　poor　little

woman　would　have　been　glad　to　leave　her　desolate　home　on　the

plains　to　accompany　these　Kings　on　their　journey？



But　the　foolish　woman　shook　her　head。　　No；　the　night　was　dark　and

cheerless；　and　her　little　home　was　warm　and　cosy。　　She　looked　up

into　the　sky；　and　the　Star　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。　　Besides；　she

wanted　to　put　her　hut　in　orderperhaps　she　would　be　ready　to　go

to…morrow。　　But　the　Three　Kings　could　not　wait；　so　when

to…morrow's　sun　rose　they　were　far　ahead　on　their　journey。　　It

seemed　like　a　dream　to　poor　Babouscka；　for　even　the　tracks　of　the

camels'　feet　were　covered　by　the　deep　white　snow。　　Everything　was

the　same　as　usual；　and　to　make　sure　that　the　night's　visitors　had

not　been　a　fancy；　she　found　her　old　broom　hanging　on　a　peg　behind

the　door；　where　she　had　put　it　when　the　servants　knocked。



Now　that　the　sun　was　shining；　and　she　remembered　the　glitter　of

the　gold　and　the　smell　of　the　sweet　gums　and　myrrh；　she　wished

she　had　gone　with　the　travelers。



And　she　thought　a　great　deal　about　the　dear　Baby　the　Three　Kings

had　gone　to　worship。　　She　had　no　children　of　her　own　nobody

loved　herah；　if　she　had　only　gone！　　The　more　she　brooded　on　the

thought；　the　more　miserable　she　grew；　till　the　very　sight　of　her

home　became　hateful　to　her。



It　is　a　dreadful　feeling　to　realize　that　one　has　lost　a　chance　of

happiness。　　There　is　a　feeling　called　remorse　that　can　gnaw　like

a　sharp　little　tooth。　　Babouscka　felt　this　little　tooth　cut　into

her　heart　every　time　she　remembered　the　visit　of　the　Three　Kings。



After　a　while　the　thought　of　the　Little　Child　became　her　first

thought　at　waking　and　her　last　at　night。　　One　day　she　shut　the

door　of　her　house　forever；　and　set　out　on　a　long　journey。　　She

had　no　hope　of　overtaking　the　Three　Kings；　but　she　longed　to　find

the　Child；　that　she　too　might　love　and　worship　Him。　　She　asked

every　one　she　met；　and　some　people　thought　her　crazy；　but　others

gave　her　kind　answers。　　Have　you　p