您的位置 : 首页 > 英文著作
Seventeen
CHAPTER XXII. FORESHADOWINGS
Booth Tarkington
下载:Seventeen.txt
本书全文检索:
       _ Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion
       globes were long since on the wind;
       gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here;
       the season moved toward asters and the goldenrod.
       This haloed summer still idled on its way,
       yet all the while sped quickly; like some languid
       lady in an elevator.
       There came a Sunday--very hot.
       Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, having walked a scorched
       half-mile from church, drooped thankfully into
       wicker chairs upon their front porch, though
       Jane, who had accompanied them, immediately
       darted away, swinging her hat by its ribbon and
       skipping as lithesomely as if she had just come
       forth upon a cool morning.
       ``I don't know how she does it!'' her father
       moaned, glancing after her and drying his forehead
       temporarily upon a handkerchief. ``That
       would merely kill me dead, after walking in
       this heat.''
       Then, for a time, the two were content to sit
       in silence, nodding to occasional acquaintances
       who passed in the desultory after-church
       procession. Mr. Baxter fanned himself with sporadic
       little bursts of energy which made his straw hat
       creak, and Mrs. Baxter sighed with the heat, and
       gently rocked her chair.
       But as a group of five young people passed
       along the other side of the street Mr. Baxter
       abruptly stopped fanning himself, and, following
       the direction of his gaze, Mrs. Baxter ceased to
       rock. In half-completed attitudes they leaned
       slightly forward, sharing one of those pauses
       of parents who unexpectedly behold their offspring.
       ``My soul!'' said William's father. ``Hasn't
       that girl gone home YET?''
       ``He looks pale to me,'' Mrs. Baxter murmured,
       absently. ``I don't think he seems at all well,
       lately.''
       During seventeen years Mr. Baxter had gradually
       learned not to protest anxieties of this kind,
       unless he desired to argue with no prospect of
       ever getting a decision. ``Hasn't she got any
       HOME?'' he demanded, testily. ``Isn't she ever
       going to quit visiting the Parchers and let people
       have a little peace?''
       Mrs. Baxter disregarded this outburst as he
       had disregarded her remark about William's
       pallor. ``You mean Miss Pratt?'' she inquired,
       dreamily, her eyes following the progress of her
       son. ``No, he really doesn't look well at all.''
       ``Is she going to visit the Parchers all summer?''
       Mr. Baxter insisted.
       ``She already has, about,'' said Mrs. Baxter.
       ``Look at that boy!'' the father grumbled.
       ``Mooning along with those other moon-calves--
       can't even let her go to church alone! I wonder
       how many weeks of time, counting it out in
       hours, he's wasted that way this summer?''
       ``Oh, I don't know! You see, he never goes
       there in the evening.''
       ``What of that? He's there all day, isn't he?
       What do they find to talk about? That's the
       mystery to me! Day after day; hours and hours--
       My soul! What do they SAY?''
       Mrs. Baxter laughed indulgently. ``People are
       always wondering that about the other ages.
       Poor Willie! I think that a great deal of the
       time their conversation would be probably about
       as inconsequent as it is now. You see Willie
       and Joe Bullitt are walking one on each side of
       Miss Pratt, and Johnnie Watson has to walk
       behind with May Parcher. Joe and Johnnie are
       there about as much as Willie is, and, of course,
       it's often his turn to be nice to May Parcher. He
       hasn't many chances to be tete-a-tete with Miss
       Pratt.''
       ``Well, she ought to go home. I want that boy
       to get back into his senses. He's in an awful
       state.''
       ``I think she is going soon,'' said Mrs. Baxter.
       ``The Parchers are to have a dance for her
       Friday night, and I understand there's to be a
       floor laid in the yard and great things. It's a
       farewell party.''
       ``That's one mercy, anyhow!''
       ``And if you wonder what they say,'' she
       resumed, ``why, probably they're all talking
       about the party. And when Willie IS alone with
       her--well, what does anybody say?'' Mrs. Baxter
       interrupted herself to laugh. ``Jane, for
       instance--she's always fascinated by that darky,
       Genesis, when he's at work here in the yard, and
       they have long, long talks; I've seen them from
       the window. What on earth do you suppose
       they talk about? That's where Jane is now.
       She knew I told Genesis I'd give him something
       if he'd come and freeze the ice-cream for us to-
       day, and when we got here she heard the freezer
       and hopped right around there. If you went out
       to the back porch you'd find them talking
       steadily--but what on earth about I couldn't
       guess to save my life!''
       And yet nothing could have been simpler: as
       a matter of fact, Jane and Genesis (attended by
       Clematis) were talking about society. That is to
       say, their discourse was not sociologic; rather it
       was of the frivolous and elegant. Watteau
       prevailed with them over John Stuart Mill--in a
       word, they spoke of the beau monde.
       Genesis turned the handle of the freezer with
       his left hand, allowing his right the freedom of
       gesture which was an intermittent necessity when
       he talked. In the matter of dress, Genesis had
       always been among the most informal of his race,
       but to-day there was a change almost unnerving
       to the Caucasian eye. He wore a balloonish suit
       of purple, strangely scalloped at pocket and cuff,
       and more strangely decorated with lines of small
       parasite buttons, in color blue, obviously buttons
       of leisure. His bulbous new shoes flashed back
       yellow fire at the embarrassed sun, and his collar
       (for he had gone so far) sent forth other sparkles,
       playing upon a polished surface over an inner
       graining of soot. Beneath it hung a simple,
       white, soiled evening tie, draped in a manner
       unintended by its manufacturer, and heavily
       overburdened by a green glass medallion of the
       Emperor Tiberius, set in brass.
       ``Yesm,'' said Genesis. ``Now I'm in 'at
       Swim--flyin' roun' ev'y night wif all lem blue-
       vein people--I say, `Mus' go buy me some
       blue-vein clo'es! Ef I'm go'n' a START, might's
       well start HIGH!' So firs', I buy me thishere gol'
       necktie pin wi' thishere lady's face carved out o'
       green di'mon', sittin' in the middle all 'at gol'.
       'Nen I buy me pair Royal King shoes. I got a
       frien' o' mine, thishere Blooie Bowers; he say
       Royal King shoes same kine o' shoes HE wear, an'
       I walk straight in 'at sto' where they keep 'em
       at. `Don' was'e my time showin' me no ole-
       time shoes,' I say. `Run out some them big,
       yella, lump-toed Royal Kings befo' my eyes, an'
       firs' pair fit me I pay price, an' wear 'em right
       off on me!' 'Nen I got me thishere suit o' clo'es
       --OH, oh! Sign on 'em in window: `Ef you wish
       to be bes'-dress' man in town take me home fer
       six dolluhs ninety-sevum cents.' ` 'At's kine o'
       suit Genesis need,' I say. `Ef Genesis go'n' a
       start dressin' high, might's well start top!' ''
       Jane nodded gravely, comprehending the
       reasonableness of this view. ``What made you
       decide to start, Genesis?'' she asked, earnestly. ``I
       mean, how did it happen you began to get
       this way?''
       ``Well, suh, 'tall come 'bout right like kine
       o' slidin' into it 'stid o' hoppin' an' jumpin'. I'z
       spen' the even' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what
       cook nex' do', las' year. Well, suh, 'at lady
       Fanny, she quit privut cookin', she kaytliss--''
       ``She's what?'' Jane asked. ``What's that
       mean, Genesis--kaytliss?''
       ``She kaytuhs,'' he explained. ``Ef it's a man
       you call him kaytuh; ef it's a lady, she's a
       kaytliss. She does kaytun fer all lem blue-vein
       fam'lies in town. She make ref'eshmuns, bring
       waituhs--'at's kaytun. You' maw give big dinnuh,
       she have Fanny kaytuh, an' don't take no
       trouble 'tall herself. Fanny take all 'at trouble.''
       ``I see,'' said Jane. ``But I don't see how her
       bein' a kaytliss started you to dressin' so high,
       Genesis.''
       ``Thishere way. Fanny say, `Look here,
       Genesis, I got big job t'morra night an' I'm man
       short, 'count o' havin' to have a 'nouncer.' ''
       ``A what?''
       ``Fanny talk jes' that way. Goin' be big
       dinnuh-potty, an' thishere blue-vein fam'ly tell
       Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell
       her put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-
       room do'--ask ev'ybody name an' holler out
       whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in.
       Thishere fam'ly say they goin' show what's what,
       'nis town, an' they boun' Fanny go git 'em a
       'nouncer. `Well, what's mattuh YOU doin' 'at
       'nouncin'?' Fanny say. `Who--me?' I tell her.
       `Yes, you kin, too!' she say, an' she say she len'
       me 'at waituh suit yoosta b'long ole Henry
       Gimlet what die' when he owin' Fanny sixteen
       dolluhs--an' Fanny tuck an' keep 'at waituh suit.
       She use 'at suit on extry waituhs when she got
       some on her hands what 'ain't got no waituh suit.
       `You wear 'at suit,' Fanny say, 'an' you be good
       'nouncer, 'cause you' a fine, big man, an' got a
       big, gran' voice; 'nen you learn befo' long be a
       waituh, Genesis, an' git dolluh an' half ev'y even'
       you waitin ', 'sides all 'at money you make cuttin'
       grass daytime.' Well, suh, I'z stan' up doin' 'at
       'nouncin' ve'y nex' night. White lady an' ge'l-
       mun walk todes my do', I step up to 'em--I step
       up to 'em thisaway.''
       Here Genesis found it pleasant to present the
       scene with some elaboration. He dropped the
       handle of the freezer, rose, assumed a stately,
       but ingratiating, expression, and ``stepped up'' to
       the imagined couple, using a pacing and rhythmic
       gait--a conservative prance, which plainly indicated
       the simultaneous operation of an orchestra.
       Then bending graciously, as though the persons
       addressed were of dwarfish stature, `` 'Scuse me,''
       he said, ``but kin I please be so p'lite as to 'quiah
       you' name?'' For a moment he listened attentively,
       then nodded, and, returning with the same
       aristocratic undulations to an imaginary doorway
       near the freezer, ``Misto an' Missuz Orlosko
       Rinktum!'' he proclaimed, sonorously.
       ``WHO?'' cried Jane, fascinated. ``Genesis,
       'nounce that again, right away!''
       Genesis heartily complied.
       ``Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!'' he
       bawled.
       ``Was that really their names?'' she asked,
       eagerly.
       ``Well, I kine o' fergit,'' Genesis admitted,
       resuming his work with the freezer. ``Seem like
       I rickalect SOMEBODY got name good deal like
       what I say, 'cause some mighty blue-vein names
       at 'at dinnuh-potty, yessuh! But I on'y git to
       be 'nouncer one time, 'cause Fanny tellin' me
       nex' fam'ly have dinnuh-potty make heap o' fun.
       Say I done my 'nouncin' GOOD, but say what's
       use holler'n' names jes' fer some the neighbors or
       they own aunts an' uncles to walk in, when ev'y-
       body awready knows 'em? So Fanny pummote
       me to waituh, an' I roun' right in amongs' big
       doin's mos' ev'y night. Pass ice-cream, lemonade,
       lemon-ice, cake, samwitches. `Lemme han'
       you li'l' mo' chicken salad, ma'am'--` 'Low me be
       so kine as to git you f'esh cup coffee, suh'--'S
       way ole Genesis talkin' ev'y even' 'ese days!''
       Jane looked at him thoughtfully. ``Do you like
       it better than cuttin' grass, Genesis?'' she asked.
       He paused to consider. ``Yes'm--when ban'
       play all lem TUNES! My goo'ness, do soun' gran'!''
       ``You can't do it to-night, though, Genesis,''
       said Jane. ``You haf to be quiet on Sunday
       nights, don't you?''
       ``Yes'm. 'Ain' got no mo' kaytun till nex'
       Friday even'.''
       ``Oh, I bet that's the party for Miss Pratt at
       Mr. Parcher's!'' Jane cried. ``Didn't I guess
       right?''
       ``Yes'm. I reckon I'm a-go'n' a see one you'
       fam'ly 'at night; see him dancin'--wait on him
       at ref'eshmuns.''
       Jane's expression became even more serious
       than usual. ``Willie? I don't know whether he's
       goin', Genesis.''
       ``Lan' name!'' Genesis exclaimed. ``He die ef
       he don' git INvite to 'at ball!''
       ``Oh, he's invited,'' said Jane. ``Only I think
       maybe he won't go.''
       ``My goo'ness! Why ain' he goin'?''
       Jane looked at her friend studiously before
       replying. ``Well, it's a secret,'' she said, finally,
       ``but it's a very inter'sting one, an' I'll tell you
       if you never tell.''
       ``Yes'm, I ain' tellin' nobody.''
       Jane glanced round, then stepped a little closer
       and told the secret with the solemnity it deserved.
       ``Well, when Miss Pratt first came to visit Miss
       May Parcher, Willie used to keep papa's evening
       clo'es in his window-seat, an' mamma wondered
       what HAD become of 'em. Then, after dinner,
       he'd slip up there an' put 'em on him, an' go out
       through the kitchen an' call on Miss Pratt.
       Then mamma found 'em, an' she thought he
       oughtn't to do that, so she didn't tell him or
       anything, an' she didn't even tell papa, but she
       had the tailor make 'em ever an' ever so much
       bigger, 'cause they were gettin' too tight for papa.
       An' well, so after that, even if Willie could get
       'em out o' mamma's clo'es-closet where she keeps
       'em now, he'd look so funny in 'em he couldn't
       wear 'em. Well, an' then he couldn't go to pay
       calls on Miss Pratt in the evening since then,
       because mamma says after he started to go
       there in that suit he couldn't go without it, or
       maybe Miss Pratt or the other ones that's in love
       of her would think it was pretty queer, an' maybe
       kind of expeck it was papa's all the time.
       Mamma says she thinks Willie must have worried
       a good deal over reasons to say why he'd
       always go in the daytime after that, an' never
       came in the evening, an' now they're goin' to
       have this party, an' she says he's been gettin'
       paler and paler every day since he heard about it.
       Mamma says he's pale SOME because Miss Pratt's
       goin' away, but she thinks it's a good deal more
       because, well, if he would wear those evening
       clo'es just to go CALLIN', how would it be to go
       to that PARTY an' not have any! That's what
       mamma thinks--an', Genesis, you promised you'd
       never tell as long as you live!''
       ``Yes'm. _I_ ain' tellin','' Genesis chuckled.
       ``I'm a-go'n' agit me one nem waituh suits befo'
       long, myse'f, so's I kin quit wearin' 'at ole Henry
       Gimlet suit what b'long to Fanny, an' have me
       a privut suit o' my own. They's a secon'-han'
       sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got swaller-
       tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem
       dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents. I'm a--''
       Jane started, interrupting him. `` 'SH!'' she
       whispered, laying a finger warningly upon her lips.
       William had entered the yard at the back
       gate, and, approaching over the lawn, had
       arrived at the steps of the porch before Jane
       perceived him. She gave him an apprehensive look,
       but he passed into the house absent-mindedly,
       not even flinching at sight of Clematis--and Mrs.
       Baxter was right, William did look pale.
       ``I guess he didn't hear us,'' said Jane, when
       he had disappeared into the interior. ``He acks
       awful funny!'' she added, thoughtfully. ``First
       when he was in love of Miss Pratt, he'd be mad
       about somep'm almost every minute he was
       home. Couldn't anybody say ANYthing to him
       but he'd just behave as if it was frightful, an' then
       if you'd see him out walkin' with Miss Pratt,
       well, he'd look like--like--'' Jane paused; her
       eye fell upon Clematis and by a happy inspiration
       she was able to complete her simile with
       remarkable accuracy. ``He'd look like the way
       Clematis looks at people! That's just EXACTLY the
       way he'd look, Genesis, when he was walkin' with
       Miss Pratt; an' then when he was home he got
       so quiet he couldn't answer questions an' wouldn't
       hear what anybody said to him at table or anywhere,
       an' papa 'd nearly almost bust. Mamma
       'n' papa 'd talk an' talk about it, an' ''--she
       lowered her voice--``an' I knew what they were
       talkin' about. Well, an' then he'd hardly ever get
       mad any more; he'd just sit in his room, an'
       sometimes he'd sit in there without any light, or he'd
       sit out in the yard all by himself all evening,
       maybe; an' th'other evening after I was in bed
       I heard 'em, an' papa said--well, this is what
       papa told mamma.'' And again lowering her
       voice, she proffered the quotation from her
       father in atone somewhat awe-struck: ``Papa
       said, by Gosh! if he ever 'a' thought a son of his
       could make such a Word idiot of himself he
       almost wished we'd both been girls!''
       Having completed this report in a violent
       whisper, Jane nodded repeatedly, for emphasis,
       and Genesis shook his head to show that he was
       as deeply impressed as she wished him to be.
       ``I guess,'' she added, after a pause ``I guess
       Willie didn't hear anything you an' I talked
       about him, or clo'es, or anything.''
       She was mistaken in part. William had caught
       no reference to himself, but he had overheard
       something and he was now alone in his room,
       thinking about it almost feverishly. ``A secon'-
       han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got
       swaller-tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to
       nineteem dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents.''
       . . . Civilization is responsible for certain
       longings in the breast of man--artificial longings,
       but sometimes as poignant as hunger and thirst.
       Of these the strongest are those of the maid for
       the bridal veil, of the lad for long trousers, and of
       the youth for a tailed coat of state. To the
       gratification of this last, only a few of the early joys
       in life are comparable. Indulged youths, too
       rich, can know, to the unctuous full, neither the
       longing nor the gratification; but one such as
       William, in ``moderate circumstances,'' is privileged
       to pant for his first evening clothes as the
       hart panteth after the water-brook--and sometimes,
       to pant in vain. Also, this was a crisis in
       William's life: in addition to his yearning for such
       apparel, he was racked by a passionate urgency.
       As Jane had so precociously understood, unless
       he should somehow manage to obtain the proper
       draperies he could not go to the farewell dance
       for Miss Pratt. Other unequipped boys could go
       in their ordinary ``best clothes,'' but William could
       not; for, alack! he had dressed too well too soon!
       He was in desperate case.
       The sorrow of the approaching great departure
       was but the heavier because it had been so long
       deferred. To William it had seemed that this
       flower-strewn summer could actually end no more
       than he could actually die, but Time had begun its
       awful lecture, and even Seventeen was listening.
       Miss Pratt, that magic girl, was going home. _