the complete works of artemus ward, part 1-第25部分

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lived　in　Arkansas。　　He　was　only　fourteen　years　old。　　One　night　he
deliberately　murdered　his　father　and　mother　in　cold　blood；　with　a
meat…axe。　　He　was　tried　and　found　guilty。　　The　Judge　drew　on　his
black　cap；　and　in　a　voice　choked　with　emotion　asked　the　young
prisoner　if　he　had　anything　to　say　before　the　sentence　of　the　Court
was　passed　on　him。　　The　court…room　was　densely　crowded　and　there　was
not　a　dry　eye　in　the　vast　assembly。　　The　youth　of　the　prisoner；　his
beauty　and　innocent　looks；　the　mild；　lamblike　manner　in　which　he　had
conducted　himself　during　the　trialall；　all　had　thoroughly　enlisted
the　sympathy　of　the　spectators；　the　ladies　in　particular。　　And　even
the　Jury；　who　had　found　it　to　be　their　stern　duty　to　declare　him
guilty　of　the　appalling　crimeeven　the　Jury　now　wept　aloud　at　this
awful　moment。

〃Have　you　anything　to　say？〃　repeated　the　deeply　moved　Judge。

〃Why；　no；〃　replied　the　prisoner；　〃I　think　I　haven't；　though　I　hope
yer　Honor　will　show　some　consideration　FOR　THE　FEELINGS　OF　A　POOR
ORPHAN！〃

The　Judge　sentenced　the　perfect　young　wretch　without　delay。


1。36。　　AFFAIRS　AROUND　THE　VILLAGE　GREEN。

It　isn't　every　one　who　has　a　village　green　to　write　about。　　I　have
one；　although　I　have　not　seen　much　of　it　for　some　years　past。　　I　am
back　again；　now。　　In　the　language　of　the　duke　who　went　around　with　a
motto　about　him；　〃I　am　here！〃　and　I　fancy　I　am　about　as　happy　a
peasant　of　the　vale　as　ever　garnished　a　melodrama；　although　I　have
not　as　yet　danced　on　my　village　green；　as　the　melodramatic　peasant
usually　does　on　his。　　It　was　the　case　when　Rosina　Meadows　left　home。

The　time　rolls　by　serenely　nowso　serenely　that　I　don't　care　what
time　it　is；　which　is　fortunate；　because　my　watch　is　at　present　in
the　hands　of　those　〃men　of　New　York　who　are　called　rioters。〃　　We　met
by　chance；　the　usual　waycertainly　not　by　appointmentand　I
brought　the　interview　to　a　close　with　all　possible　despatch。
Assuring　them　that　I　wasn't　Mr。　Greeley；　particularly；　and　that　he
had　never　boarded　in　the　private　family　where　I　enjoy　the　comforts
of　a　home；　I　tendered　them　my　watch；　and　begged　they　would
distribute　it　judiciously　among　the　laboring　classes；　as　I　had　seen
the　rioters　styled　in　certain　public　prints。

Why　should　I　loiter　feverishly　in　Broadway；　stabbing　the　hissing　hot
air　with　the　splendid　gold…headed　cane　that　was　presented　to　me　by
the　citizens　of　Waukegan；　Illinois；　as　a　slight　testimonial　of　their
esteem？　　Why　broil　in　my　rooms？　　You　said　to　me；　Mrs。　Gloverson；
when　I　took　possession　of　these　rooms；　that　no　matter　how　warm　it
might　be；　a　breeze　had　a　way　of　blowing　into　them；　and　that　they
were；　withal；　quite　countryfied；　but　I　am　bound　to　say；　Mrs。
Gloverson；　that　there　was　nothing　about　them　that　ever　reminded　me；
in　the　remotest　degree；　of　daisies　or　new…mown　hay。　　Thus；　with
sarcasm；　do　I　smash　the　deceptive　Gloverson。

Why　stay　in　New　York　when　I　had　a　village　green？　　I　gave　it　up；　the
same　as　I　would　an　intricate　conundrumand；　in　short；　I　am　here。

Do　I　miss　the　glare　and　crash　of　the　imperial　thoroughfare？　　The
milkman；　the　fiery；　untamed　omnibus　horses；　the　soda　fountains；
Central　Park；　and　those　things？　　Yes　I　do；　and　I　can　go　on　missing
'em　for　quite　a　spell；　and　enjoy　it。

The　village　from　which　I　write　to　you　is　small。　　It　does　not　contain
over　forty　houses；　all　told；　but　they　are　milk…white；　with　the
greenest　of　blinds；　and　for　the　most　part　are　shaded　with　beautiful
elms　and　willows。　　To　the　right　of　us　is　a　mountainto　the　left　a
lake。　　The　village　nestles　between。　　Of　course　it　does；　I　never　read
a　novel　in　my　life　in　which　the　villages　didn't　nestle。　　Villages
invariably　nestle。　　It　is　a　kind　of　way　they　have。

We　are　away　from　the　cars。　　The　iron…horse；　as　my　little　sister
aptly　remarks　in　her　composition　On　Nature；　is　never　heard　to　shriek
in　our　midst；　and　on　the　whole　I　am　glad　of　it。

The　villagers　are　kindly　people。　　They　are　rather　incoherent　on　the
subject　of　the　war；　but　not　more　so；　perhaps；　then　are　people
elsewhere。　　One　citizen；　who　used　to　sustain　a　good　character；
subscribed　for　the　Weekly　New　York　Herald　a　few　months　since；　and
went　to　studying　the　military　maps　in　that　well…known　journal　for
the　fireside。　　I　need　not　inform　you　that　his　intellect　now　totters；
and　he　has　mortgaged　his　farm。　　In　a　literary　point　of　view　we　are
rather　bloodthirsty。　　A　pamphlet　edition　of　the　life　of　a　cheerful
being；　who　slaughtered　his　wife　and　child；　and　then　finished
himself；　is　having　an　extensive　sale　just　now。

We　know　little　of　Honore　de　Balzac；　and　perhaps　care　less　for　Victor
Hugo。　　M。　Claes's　grand　search　for　the　Absolute　doesn't　thrill　us　in
the　least；　and　Jean　Valjean；　gloomily　picking　his　way　through　the
sewers　of　Paris；　with　the　spooney　young　man　of　the　name　of　Marius
upon　his　back；　awakens　no　interest　in　our　breasts。　　I　say　Jean
Valjean　picked　his　way　gloomily；　and　I　repeat　it。　　No　man；　under
these　circumstances；　could　have　skipped　gayly。　　But　this　literary
business；　as　the　gentleman　who　married　his　colored　chambermaid　aptly
observed；　〃is　simply　a　matter　of　taste。〃

The　storeI　must　not　forget　the　store。　　It　is　an　object　of　great
interest　to　me。　　I　usually　encounter　there；　on　sunny　afternoons；　an
old　Revolutionary　soldier。　　You　may　possibly　have　read　about
〃Another　Revolutionary　Soldier　gone；〃　but　this　is　one　who　hasn't
gone；　and；　moreover；　one　who　doesn't　manifest　the　slightest
intention　of　going。　　He　distinctly　remembers　Washington；　of　course；
they　all　do；　but　what　I　wish　to　call　special　attention　to；　is　the
fact　that　this　Revolutionary　soldier　is　one　hundred　years　old；　that
his　eyes　are　so　good　that　he　can　read　fine　print　without　spectacles…
…he　never　used　them；　by　the　wayand　his　mind　is　perfectly　clear。
He　is　a　little　shaky　in　one　of　his　legs；　but　otherwise　he　is　as
active　as　most　men　of　forty…five；　and　his　general　health　is
excellent。　　He　uses　no　tobacco；　but　for　the　last　twenty　years　he　has
drunk　one　glass　of　liquor　every　dayno　more；　no　less。　　He　says　he
must　have　his　tod。　　I　had　begun　to　have　lurking　suspicions　about
this　Revolutionary　soldier　business；　but　here　is　an　original　Jacobs。
But　because　a　man　can　drink　a　glass　of　liquor　a　day；　and　live　to　be
a　hundred　years　old；　my　young　readers　must　not　infer　that　by
drinking　two　glasses　of　liquor　a　day　a　man　can　live　to　be　two
hundred。　　〃Which；　I　meanter　say；　it　doesn't　foller；〃　as　Joseph
Gargery　might　observe。

This　store；　in　which　may　constantly　be　found　calico　and　nails；　and
fish；　and　tobacco　in　kegs；　and　snuff　in　bladders；　is　a　venerable
establishment。　　As　long　ago　as　1814　it　was　an　institution。　　The
county　troops；　on　their　way　to　the　defence　of　Portland；　then　menaced
by　British　ships…of…war；　were　drawn　up　in　front　of　this　very　store；
and　treated　at　the　town's　expense。　　Citizens　will　tell　you　how　the
clergyman　refused　to　pray　for　the　troops；　because　he　considered　the
war　an　unholy　one；　and　how　a　somewhat　eccentric　person；　of　dissolute
habits；　volunteered　his　services；　stating　that　he　once　had　an　uncle
who　was　a　deacon；　and　he　thought　he　could　make　a　tolerable　prayer；
although　it　was　rather　out　of　his　line；　and　how　he　prayed　so　long
and　absurdly　that　the　Colonel　ordered　him　under　arrest；　but　that
even　while　soldiers　stood　over　him　with　gleaming　bayonets；　the
reckless　being　sang　a　preposterous　song　about　his　grandmother's
spotted　calf；　with　its　Ri…fol…lol…tiddery…i…do；　after　which　he
howled　dismally。

And　speaking　of　the　store；　reminds　me　of　a　little　story。　　The　author
of　〃several　successful　comedies〃　has　been　among　us；　and　the　store
was　anxious　to　know　who　the　stranger　was。　　And　therefore　the　store
asked　him。

〃What　do　you　follow；　sir？〃　respectfully　inquired　the　tradesman。

〃I　occasionally　write　for　the　stage；　sir。〃

〃Oh！〃　returned　the　tradesman；　in　a　confused　manner。

〃He　means；〃　said　an　honest　villager；　with　a　desire　to　help　the
puzzled　tradesman　out；　〃he　means　that　he　writes　the　handbills　for
the　stage　drivers！〃

I　believe　that　story　is　new；　although　perhaps　it　is　not　of　an
uproariously　mirthful　character；　but　one　hears　stories　at　the　store
that　are　old　enough；　goodness　knowsstories　which；　no　doubt；
diverted　Methuselah　in　the　sunny　days　of　his　giddy　and　thoughtless
boyhood。

There　is　an　exciting　scene　at　the　store　occasionally。　　Yesterday　an
athletic　peasant；　in　a　state　of　beer；　smashed　in　a　counter　and
emptied　two　tubs　of　butter　on　the　floor。　　His　fathera　white…haired
old　man；　who　was　a　little　boy　when　the　Revolutionary　war　closed；　but
who　doesn't　remember　Washington　MUCH；　came　round　in　the　evening　and
settled　for　the　damages。　　〃My　son；〃　he　said；　〃has　considerable
originality。〃　　I　will　mention　that　this　same　son　once　told　me　that
he　could　lick　me　with　one　arm　tied　behind　him；　and　I　was　so
thoroughly　satisfied　he　could；　that　I　told　him　he　needn't　mind　going
for　a　rope。

Sometimes　I　go　a…visiting　to　a　farmhouse；　on　which　occasions　the
parlor　is　opened。　　The　windows　have　been　close…shut　ever　since　the
last　visitor　was　there；　and　there　is　a　dingy　smell　that　I　struggle
as　calmly　as　possible　with；　until　I　am　led　to　the　banquet　of
steaming　hot　biscuit　and　custard　pie。　　If　they　would　only　let　me　sit
in　the　dear　old…fashioned　kitchen；　or　on　the　door…stoneif　they
knew　how　dismally　the　new　black　furniture　lookedbut；　never　mind；　I
am　not　a　reformer。　　No；　I　should　rather　think　not。

Gloomy　enough；　this　living　on　a　farm；　you　perhaps　say；　in　which　case
you　are　wrong。　　I　can't　exactly　say　that　I　pant　to　be　an
agriculturist；　but　I　do　know　that　in　the　main　it　is　an　independent；
calmly　happy　sort　of　life。　　I　can　see　how　the　prosperous　farmer　can
go　joyously　a…field　with　the　rise　of　the　sun；　and　how　his　heart　may
swell　with　pride　over　bounteous　harvests　and　sleek　oxen。　　And　it
must　be　rather　jolly　for　him　on　winter　evenings　to　sit　before　the
bright　kitchen　fire　and　watch　his　rosy　boys　and　girls　as　they　study
out　the　charades　in　the　weekly　paper；　and　gradually　find　out　why　my
first　is　something　that　grows　in　a　garden；　and　my　second　is　a　fish。

On　the　green　hillside　over　yonder　there　is　a　quivering　of　snowy
drapery；　and　bright　hair　is　flashing　in　the　morning　sunlight。　　It
is　recess；　and　the　Seminary　girls　ar