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"That's a true picture of our poetryless time, that I see
before me now," thought the young man; and that was at least a thought, a grain
of gold that he found by the door of the wise woman. "Write that down!" said
she. "Even crumbs are bread. I know why you come hither. You cannot invent
anything, and yet you want to be a poet by Easter." "Everything has been written
down," said he. "Our time is not the old time." "No," said the woman. "In the
old time wise women were burnt, and poets went about with empty stomachs, and
very much out at elbows.
"Everything has been written down," said he.
"Our time is not the old time." "No," said the woman. "In the old time wise
women were burnt, and poets went about with empty stomachs, and very much out at
elbows. The present time is good, it is the best of times; but you have not the
right way of looking at it. Your ear is not sharpened to hear, and I fancy you
do not say the Lord's Prayer in the evening. There is plenty here to write poems
about, and to tell of, for any one who knows the way.
You can read it in
the fruits of the earth, you can draw it from the flowing and the standing
water; but you must understand how- you must understand how to catch a sunbeam.
Now just you try my spectacles on, and put my ear-trumpet to your ear, and then
pray to God, and leave off thinking of yourself" The last was a very difficult
thing to do- more than a wise woman ought to ask. He received the spectacles and
the ear-trumpet, and was posted in the middle of the potato-field.
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I'm kind of a house
agent, also a manager of funerals. I can laugh or cry, according to
circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in this box here, but it would be very
foolish to put it on now. Here I am. On Sundays I go out walking in shoes and
white silk stockings, and a muff." After him, a lady stepped out of the coach.
She called herself Miss MAY. She wore a summer dress and overshoes; her dress
was a light green, and she wore anemones in her hair. She was so scented with
wild-thyme, that it made the sentry sneeze.
She was so scented with
wild-thyme, that it made the sentry sneeze. "Your health, and God bless you,"
was her salutation to him. How pretty she was! and such a singer! not a theatre
singer, nor a ballad singer; no, but a singer of the woods; for she wandered
through the gay green forest, and had a concert there for her own amusement.
"Now comes the young lady," said those in the carriage; and out stepped a young
dame, delicate, proud, and pretty. It was Mistress JUNE, in whose service people
become lazy and fond of sleeping for hours.
It was Mistress JUNE, in
whose service people become lazy and fond of sleeping for hours. She gives a
feast on the longest day of the year, that there may be time for her guests to
partake of the numerous dishes at her table. Indeed, she keeps her own carriage;
but still she travelled by the mail, with the rest, because she wished to show
that she was not high-minded. But she was not without a protector; her younger
brother, JULY, was with her. He was a plump young fellow, clad in summer
garments and wearing a straw hat.
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Since then I
have worked, toiled, and striven for the sake of the child. I have scrubbed and
washed both coarse and fine linen, but I have not been able to make myself
better off; and it was God's will. In His own time He will take me to Himself,
but I know He will never forsake my boy." Then she fell asleep. In the morning
she felt much refreshed, and strong enough, as she thought, to go on with her
work. But as soon as she stepped into the cold water, a sudden faintness seized
her; she clutched at the air convulsively with her hand, took one step forward,
and fell.
Her head rested on dry land, but her feet were in the water;
her wooden shoes, which were only tied on by a wisp of straw, were carried away
by the stream, and thus she was found by Martha when she came to bring her some
coffee. In the meantime a messenger had been sent to her house by the mayor, to
say that she must come to him immediately, as he had something to tell her. It
was too late; a surgeon had been sent for to open a vein in her arm, but the
poor woman was dead. "She has drunk herself to death," said the cruel
mayor.
It was too late; a surgeon had been sent for to open a vein in her
arm, but the poor woman was dead. "She has drunk herself to death," said the
cruel mayor. In the letter, containing the news of his brother's death, it was
stated that he had left in his will a legacy of six hundred dollars to the
glovemaker's widow, who had been his mother's maid, to be paid with discretion,
in large or small sums to the widow or her child. "There was something between
my brother and her, I remember," said the mayor; "it is a good thing that she is
out of the way, for now the boy will have the whole.
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"There were Northmen, from Norway, who steered westward through
mist and storm to an unknown land, where, behind ice and snow, they found plants
and green meadows, and bushes with blue-black grapes- sloe bushes. The grapes
were ripened by the frost just as we are. And they called the land 'wine-land,'
that is, 'Groenland,' or 'Sloeland.'" "That is quite a romantic story," said the
young man. "Yes, certainly. But now come with me," said the wise woman, and she
led him to the bee-hive.
"Yes, certainly. But now come with me," said
the wise woman, and she led him to the bee-hive. He looked into it. What life
and labor! There were bees standing in all the passages, waving their wings, so
that a wholesome draught of air might blow through the great manufactory; that
was their business. Then there came in bees from without, who had been born with
little baskets on their feet; they brought flower-dust, which was poured out,
sorted, and manufactured into honey and wax.
They flew in and out. The
queen-bee wanted to fly out, but then all the other bees must have gone with
her. It was not yet the time for that, but still she wanted to fly out; so the
others bit off her majesty's wings, and she had to stay where she was. "Now get
upon the earth bank," said the wise woman. "Come and look out over the highway,
where you can see the people." "What a crowd it is!" said the young man. "One
story after another. It whirls and whirls! It's quite a confusion before my
eyes.
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The
chair-cushion in the corner burst with laughter when she saw it. "'Shall I be
crowned now?' asked the fire-tongs; so the broom found another wreath for the
tongs. "'They were only common people after all,' thought the matches. The
tea-urn was now asked to sing, but she said she had a cold, and could not sing
without boiling heat. They all thought this was affectation, and because she did
not wish to sing excepting in the parlor, when on the table with the grand
people.
"In the window sat an old quill-pen, with which the maid
generally wrote. There was nothing remarkable about the pen, excepting that it
had been dipped too deeply in the ink, but it was proud of that. "'If the
tea-urn won't sing,' said the pen, 'she can leave it alone; there is a
nightingale in a cage who can sing; she has not been taught much, certainly, but
we need not say anything this evening about that.' "'I think it highly
improper,' said the tea-kettle, who was kitchen singer, and half-brother to the
tea-urn, 'that a rich foreign bird should be listened to here.
Is it
patriotic? Let the market-basket decide what is right.' "'I certainly am vexed,'
said the basket; 'inwardly vexed, more than any one can imagine. Are we spending
the evening properly? Would it not be more sensible to put the house in order?
If each were in his own place I would lead a game; this would be quite another
thing.' "'Let us act a play,' said they all. At the same moment the door opened,
and the maid came in. Then not one stirred; they all remained quite still; yet,
at the same time, there was not a single pot amongst them who had not a high
opinion of himself, and of what he could do if he chose.
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A pretty
room and a good bed were provided for him, and yet his reception was not what he
had expected and dreamed it would be. He could not comprehend his own feelings
nor the feelings of others; but it is easily understood how a person can be
admitted into a house or a family without becoming one of them. We converse in
company with those we meet, as we converse with our fellow-travellers in a
stage-coach, on a journey; we know nothing of them, and perhaps all the while we
are incommoding one another, and each is wishing himself or his neighbor
away.
Something of this kind Anthony felt when Molly talked to him of old
times. "I am a straightforward girl," she said, "and I will tell you myself how
it is. There have been great changes since we were children together; everything
is different, both inwardly and outwardly. We cannot control our wills, nor the
feelings of our hearts, by the force of custom. Anthony, I would not, for the
world, make an enemy of you when I am far away. Believe me, I entertain for you
the kindest wishes in my heart; but to feel for you what I now know can be felt
for another man, can never be.
Anthony, I would not, for the world, make
an enemy of you when I am far away. Believe me, I entertain for you the kindest
wishes in my heart; but to feel for you what I now know can be felt for another
man, can never be. You must try and reconcile yourself to this. Farewell,
Anthony." Anthony also said, "Farewell." Not a tear came into his eye; he felt
he was no longer Molly's friend. Hot iron and cold iron alike take the skin from
our lips, and we feel the same sensation if we kiss either; and Anthony's kiss
was now the kiss of hatred, as it had once been the kiss of love.
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