marm lisa-第17部分

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sist？　　This　morning　I　was　riding　down　in　the　horse…cars；　and　a　poor　ragged　Italian　woman　entered；　a　baby　in　her　arms；　and　two　other　children　following　close　behind。　　The　girl　was　a　mite　of　a　thing；　prematurely　grave；　serious；　pretty；　and　she　led　a　boy　just　old　enough　to　toddle。　　She　lifted　him　carefully　up　to　the　seat　（she　who　should　have　been　lifted　herself！）；　took　his　hat；　smoothed　his　damp；　curly　hair；　and　tucked　his　head　down　on　her　shoulder；　a　shoulder　that　had　begun　its　life…work　full　early；　poor　tot！　　The　boy　was　a　feeble；　frail；　ill…nourished；　dirty　young　urchin；　who　fell　asleep　as　soon　as　his　head　touched　her　arm。　　His　child…nurse；　having　made　him　comfortable；　gave　a　sigh　of　relief；　and　looked　up　and　down　the　car　with　a　radiant　smile　of　content。　　Presto；　change！　　All　the　railroad　magnates　and　clerks　had　been　watching　her　over　their　newspapers；　and　in　one　instant　she　had　captured　the　car。　　I　saw　tears　in　many　eyes；　and　might　have　seen　more　had　not　my　own　been　full。　　There　was　apparently　no　reason　for　the　gay；　winsome；　enchanting　smile　that　curved　the　red　mouth；　brought　two　dimples　into　the　brown　cheeks；　and　sunny　gleams　into　two　dark　eyes。　　True；　she　was　riding　instead　of　walking；　and　her　charge　was　sleeping　instead　of　waking　and　wailing；　but　these　surely　were　trifling　matters　on　which　to　base　such　rare　content。　　Yet　there　it　was　shining　in　her　face　as　she　met　a　dozen　pairs　of　eyes；　and　saw　in　each　of　them　love　for　her　sweet　motherly　little　self；　and　love　for　the　〃eternal　womanly〃　of　which　she　was　the　visible　expression。　　There　was　a　general　exodus　at　Brett　Street；　and　every　man　furtively　slipped　a　piece　of　silver　into　the　child's　lap　as　he　left　the　car；　each；　I　think；　trying　to　hide　his　action　from　the　others。

'It　is　of　threads　such　as　these　that　I　weave　the　fabric　of　my　daily　happiness；a　happiness　that　my　friends　never　seem　able　to　comprehend；　the　blindest　of　them　pity　me；　indeed；　but　I　consider　myself　like　Mary　of　old；　〃blessed　among　women。〃'

Another　day。'God　means　all　sorts　of　things　when　he　sends　men　and　women　into　the　world。　　That　he　means　marriage；　and　that　it　is　the　chiefest　good；　I　have　no　doubt；　but　it　is　the　love　forces　in　it　that　make　it　so。　　I　may；　perhaps；　reach　my　highest　point　of　development　without　marriage；　but　I　can　never　do　it　unless　I　truly　and　deeply　love　somebody　or　something。　　I　am　not　sure；　but　it　seems　to　me　God　intends　me　for　other　people's　children；　not　for　my　own。　　My　heart　is　so　entirely　in　my　work　that　I　fancy　I　have　none　left　for　a　possible　husband。　　If　ever　a　man　comes　who　is　strong　enough　and　determined　enough　to　sweep　things　aside　and　make　a　place　for　himself　willy…　nilly；　I　shall　ask　him　to　come　in　and　rest；　but　that　seems　very　unlikely。　　What　man　have　I　ever　seen　who　would　help　me　to　be　the　woman　my　work　helps　me　to　be？　　Of　course　there　are　such；　but　the　Lord　keeps　them　safely　away　from　my　humble　notice；　lest　I　should　die　of　love　or　be　guilty　of　hero…worship。

'Men　are　so　dull；　for　the　most　part！　　They　are　often　tender　and　often　loyal；　but　they　seldom　put　any　spiritual　leaven　into　their　tenderness；　and　their　loyalty　is　apt　to　be　rather　unimaginative。　Heigho！　　I　wish　we　could　make　lovers　as　the　book…writers　do；　by　rolling　the　virtues　and　graces　of　two　or　three　men　into　one！　　I'd　almost　like　to　be　a　man　in　this　decade；　a　young；　strong　man；　for　there　are　such　splendid　giants　to　slay！　　To　be　sure；　a　woman　can　always　buckle　on　the　sword；　and　that　is　rather　a　delightful　avocation；　after　all；　but　somehow　there　are　comparatively　few　men　nowadays　who　care　greatly　to　wear　swords　or　have　them　buckled　on。　There　is　no　inspiration　in　trying　to　buckle　on　the　sword　of　a　man　who　never　saw　one；　and　who　uses　it　wrong　end　foremost；　and　falls　down　on　it；　and　entangles　his　legs　in　it；　and　scratches　his　lady's　hand　with　it　whenever　he　kisses　her！　　And　therefore；　these　things；　for　aught　I　see；　being　unalterably　so；　I　will　take　children's　love；　woman's　love；　and　man's　friendship；　man's　friendship；　which；　if　it　is　not　life's　poetry；　is　credible　prose；　says　George　Meredith；〃a　land　of　low　undulations；　instead　of　Alps；　beyond　the　terrors　and　deceptions。〃　That　will　fill　to　overflowing　my　life；　already　so　full；　and　in　time　I　shall　grow　from　everybody's　Mistress　Mary　into　everybody's　Mother　Mary；　and　that　will　be　the　end　of　me　in　my　present　state　of　being。　　I　am　happy；　yes；　I　am　blessedly　happy　in　this　prospect；　and　yet'

Another　day。'My　beloved　work！　　How　beautiful　it　is！　　Toniella　has　not　brought　little　Nino　this　week。　　She　says　he　is　ill；　but　that　he　sits　every　day　in　the　orchard；　singing　our　songs　and　modelling　birds　from　the　lump　of　clay　we　sent　him。　　When　I　heard　that　phrase　〃in　the　orchard；〃　I　felt　a　curious　sensation；　for　I　know　they　live　in　a　tenement　house；　but　I　said　nothing；　and　went　to　visit　them。

'The　orchard　is　a　few　plants　in　pots　and　pans　on　a　projecting　window…　sill！

'My　heart　went　down　on　its　knees　when　I　saw　it。　　The　divine　spark　is　in　those　children；　it　will　be　a　moving　power；　helping　them　to　struggle　out　of　their　present　environment　into　a　wider；　sunnier　one　the　one　of　the　real　orchards。　　How　fresh；　how　full　of　possibilities；　is　the　world　to　the　people　who　can　keep　the　child　heart；　and　above　all　to　the　people　who　are　able　to　see　orchards　in　window…boxes！'

Another　day。'Lisa's　daily　lesson　is　just　finished。　　It　was　in　arithmetic；　and　I　should　have　lost　patience　had　it　not　been　for　her　musical　achievements　this　morning。　　Edith　played　the　airs　of　twenty　or　thirty　games；　and　without　a　word　of　help　from　us　she　associated　the　right　memory　with　each；　and　illustrated　it　with　pantomime。　　In　some　cases；　she　invented　gestures　of　her　own　that　showed　deeper　intuition　than　ours；　and　when；　last　of　all；　the　air　of　the　Carrier　Doves　was　played；　a　vision　of　our　Solitary　must　have　come　before　her　mind。　　Her　lip　trembling；　she　held　an　imaginary　letter　in　her　fingers；　and；　brushing　back　the　hair　from　her　forehead　（his　very　gesture！）；　she　passed　her　hand　across　her　eyes；　laid　the　make…believe　note　in　Rhoda's　apron；　and　slipped　out　of　the　door　without　a　word。

〃'Mr。　Man！　　Mr。　Man！　　It　is　Mr。　Man　when　he　couldn't　read　his　letter！〃　cried　the　children。　　〃Why　doesn't　he　come　to　see　us　any　more；　Miss　Rhoda？〃

'〃He　is　doing　some　work　for　Miss　Mary；　I　think；〃　answered　Rhoda；　with　a　teasing　look　at　me。

'Lisa　came　back　just　then；　and　rubbed　her　cheek　against　my　arm。　　〃I　went　to　the　corner；〃　she　whispered；　〃but　he　wasn't　there；　he　is　never　there　now！〃

'It　was　the　remembrance　of　this　astonishing　morning　that　gave　me　courage　in　the　later　lesson。　　She　seems　to　have　no　idea　of　numbers　there　will　be　great　difficulty　there；but　she　begins　to　read　well；　and　the　marvel　of　it　is　that　she　has　various　talents！　　She　is　weak；　uneducated；　many　things　are　either　latent　or　altogether　missing　in　her　as　yet；　and　I　do　not　know　how　many　of　them　will　appear；　nor　how　long　a　process　it　will　be；　but　her　mind　is　full　of　compensations；　and　that　is　the　last　thing　I　expected。　　It　is　only　with　infinite　struggle　that　she　LEARNS　anything；　though　she　is　capable　of　struggle；　and　that　is　a　good　deal　to　say；　but　she　has　besides　a　precious　heritage　of　instincts　and　insights；　hitherto　unsuspected　and　never　drawn　upon。　It　is　precisely　as　if　there　had　been　a　bundle　of　possibilities　folded　away　somewhere　in　her　brain；　but　hidden　by　an　intervening　veil；　or　crushed　by　some　alien　weight。　　We　seem　to　have　drawn　away　that　curtain　or　lifted　that　weight；　and　the　faculties　so　long　obscured　are　stretching　themselves　and　growing　with　their　new　freedom。　　It　reminds　me　of　the　weak；　stunted　grass…blades　under　a　stone。　　I　am　always　lifting　it　and　rolling　it　away；　sentimentally　trying　to　give　the　struggling　shoots　a　chance。　　One　can　see　for　many　a　long　day　where　the　stone　has　been；　but　the　grass　forgets　it　after　a　while；　when　it　breathes　the　air　and　sunshine；　tastes　the　dew　and　rain；　and　feels　the　miracle　of　growth　within　its　veins。'

Another　day。'The　twins　are　certainly　improving　a　trifle。　　They　are　by　no　means　angelic；　but　they　are　at　least　growing　human；　and　if　ever　their　tremendous　energya　very　whirlwindis　once　turned　in　the　right　direction；　we　shall　see　things　move；　I　warrant　you！　　Rhoda　says　truly　that　the　improvement　cannot　be　seen　with　the　naked　eye；　but　the　naked　eye　is　never　in　use　with　us；　in　our　work；　nor　indeed　with　the　Father　of　Lights；　who　teaches　us　all　to　see　truly　if　we　will。

'The　young　minister　has　spent　a　morning　with　us。　　He　came　to　make　my　acquaintance；　shook　me　warmly　by　the　hand；　andthat　was　the　last　I　saw　of　him；　for　he　kept　as　close　to　Rhoda's　side　as　circumstances　would　permit！　　The　naked　eye　is　all　one　needs　to　discern　his　motives！　Psychological　observations；　indeed！　　Child　study；　forsooth！　　It　was　lovely　to　see　Rhoda's　freshness；　spontaneity；　and　unconsciousness；　as　she　flitted　about　like　a　pretty　cardinal…bird。　　Poor　young　minister；　whose　heart　is　dangling　at　the　strings　of　her　scarlet　apron！　　Lucky　young　minister；　if　his　arm　ever　goes　about　that　slender　red…ribboned　waist；　and　his　lips　ever　touch　that　glowing　cheek！　　But　poor　me！　what　will　the　garden　be　without　our　crimson　rose？'



CHAPTER　XIVMORE　LEAVES



'It　has　been　one　of　the　discouraging　days。　　Lisa　was　wilful；　the　twins　had　a　moral　relapse；　the　young　minister　came　again；　and；　oh；　the　interminable　length　of　time　he　held　Rhoda's　hand　at　parting！　　Is　it　not　strange　that；　with　the　whole　universe　to　choose　from；　his　predatory　eye　must　fall　upon　my　blooming　Rhoda？　　I　wonder　whether　the　fragrance　she　will　shed　upon　that　one　small　parsonage　will　be　as　widely　disseminated　as　the　sweetness　she　exhales　here；　day　by　day；　among　our　〃little　people　all　in　a　row〃？　　I　am　not　sure；　I　hope　so；　at　any　rate；　selfishness　must　not　be　suffered　to　eclipse　my　common…　sense；　and　the　young　minister　seems　a　promising；　manly　fellow。

'When　we　have　had　a　difficult　day；　I　go　home　and　sit　down　in　my　cosy　corner　in　the　twilight；　the　time　and　place　where　I　always　repeat　my　credo；　which　is　this：…

'It　is　the　children　of　this　year；　of　every　new　year；　who　are　to　bring　the　full　dawn；　that　dawn　that　has　been　growing　since　first　the　world　began。　　It　is　not　only　that　children　re…create　the　world　year　by　year；　decade　by　decade；　by　making　over　human　nature；　by　transforming　trivial；　thoughtless　men　and　wome