eben holden-第12部分

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　judge　it　tempted　his　confidence。　Probably　the　love　of　companionship　can　never　be　so　dead　in　a　man　but　that　the　voice　of　kindness　may　call　it　back　to　life　again。

'I'll　bring　you　a　bite　t'　eat　before　morning；'　he　said；　presently；　as　he　rose　to　go。　'leet　me　feel　o'　your　han'；　mister。'

Uncle　Eb　gave　him　his　hand　and　thanked　him。

'Feels　good。　First　I've　hed　hold　of　in　a　long　time；'　he　whispered。

'What's　the　day　o'　the　month？'

'The　twenty…fifth。'

'I　must　remember。　Where　did　you　come　from？'

Uncle　Eb　told　him；　briefly；　the　story　of　our　going　west

'Guess　you'd　never　do　me　no　harm　…　would　ye？'　the　man　asked。　'Not　a　bit；'　Uncle　Eb　answered。

Then　he　bade　us　goodbye；　crossed　the　creaking　floor　and　went　away　in　the　darkness。

'Sing'lar　character！'　Uncle　Eb　muttered。

I　was　getting　drowsy　and　that　was　the　last　I　heard。　In　the　morning　we　found　a　small　pail　of　milk　sitting　near　us；　a　roasted　partridge；　two　fried　fish　and　some　boiled　potatoes。　It　was　more　than　enough　to　carry　us　through　the　day　with　a　fair　allowance　for　Fred。　Uncle　Eb　was　a　bit　better　but　very　lame　at　that　and　kept　to　his　bed　the　greater　part　of　the　day。　The　time　went　slow　with　me　I　remember。　Uncle　Eb　was　not　cheerful　and　told　me　but　one　story　and　that　had　no　life　in　it。　At　dusk　he　let　me　go　out　in　the　road　to　play　awhile　with　Fred　and　the　wagon；　but　came　to　the　door　and　called　us　in　shortly。　I　went　to　bed　in　a　rather　unhappy　flame　of　mind。　The　dog　roused　me　by　barking　in　the　middle　of　the　right　and　I　heard　again　the　familiar　whisper　of　the　stranger。

'Sh…h…h！　be　still；　dog；'　he　whispered；　but　I　was　up　to　my　ears　in　sleep　and　went　under　shortly；　so　I　have　no　knowledge　of　what　passed　that　night。　Uncle　Eb　tells　in　his　diary　that　he　had　a　talk　with　him　lasting　more　than　an　hour；　but　goes　no　further　and　never　seemed　willing　to　talk　much　about　that　interview　or　others　that　followed　it。　

I　only　know　the　man　had　brought　more　milk　and　fish　and　fowl　for　us。　We　stayed　another　day　in　the　old　house；　that　went　like　the　last；　and　the　night　man　came　again　to　see　Uncle　Eb。　The　next　morning　my　companion　was　able　to　walk　more　freely；　but　Fred　and　I　had　to　stop　and　wait　for　him　very　often　going　down　the　big　hill。　I　was　mighty　glad　when　we　were　leaving　the　musty　old　house　for　good　and　had　the　dog　hitched　with　all　our　traps　in　the　wagon。　It　was　a　bright　morning　and　the　sunlight　glimmered　on　the　dew　in　the　broad　valley。　The　men　were　just　coming　from　breakfast　when　we　turned　in　at　David　Brower's。　A　barefooted　little　girl　a　bit　older　than　I；　with　red　cheeks　and　blue　eyes　and　long　curly　hair；　that　shone　like　gold　in　the　sunlight；　came　running　out　to　meet　us　and　led　me　up　to　the　doorstep；　highly　amused　at　the　sight　of　Fred　and　the　wagon。　I　regarded　her　with　curiosity　and　suspicion　at　first；　while　Uncle　Eb　was　talking　with　the　men。　I　shall　never　forget　that　moment　when　David　Brower　came　and　lifted　me　by　the　shoulders；　high　above　his　head；　and　shook　me　as　if　to　test　my　mettle。　He　led　me　into　the　house　then　where　his　wife　was　working。

'What　do　you　think　of　this　small　bit　of　a　boy？'　he　asked。

She　had　already　knelt　on　the　floor　and　put　her　arms　about　my　neck　and　kissed　me。

'Am'　no　home；'　said　he。　'Come　all　the　way　from　Vermont　with　an　ol'　man。　They're　worn　out　both　uv　'em。　Guess　we'd　better　take　'em　in　awhile。'

'O　yes；　mother　…　please；　mother；'　put　in　the　little　girl　who　was　holding　my　hand。　'He　can　sleep　with　me；　mother。　Please　let　him　stay。'

She　knelt　beside　me　and　put　her　arms　around　my　little　shoulders　and　drew　me　to　her　breast　and　spoke　to　me　very　tenderly。

'Please　let　him　stay；'　the　girl　pleaded　again。

'David；'　said　the　woman；　'I　couldn't　turn　the　little　thing　away。　Won't　ye　hand　me　those　cookies。'

And　so　our　life　began　in　Paradise　Valley。　Ten　minutes　later　I　was　playing　my　first　game　of　'I　spy'　with　little　Hope　Brower；　among　the　fragrant　stooks　of　wheat　in　the　field　back　of　the　garden。

Chapter　6

The　lone　pine　stood　in　Brower's　pasture；　just　clear　of　the　woods。　When　the　sun　rose；　one　could　see　its　taper　shadow　stretching　away　to　the　foot　of　Woody　Ledge；　and　at　sunset　it　lay　like　a　fallen　mast　athwart　the　cow…paths；　its　long　top　arm　a　flying　pennant　on　the　side　of　Bowman's　Hill。　In　summer　this　bar　of　shadow　moved　like　a　clock…hand　on　the　green　dial　of　the　pasture；　and　the　help　could　tell　the　time　by　the　slant　of　it。　Lone　Pine　had　a　mighty　girth　at　the　bottom；　and　its　bare　body　tapered　into　the　sky　as　straight　as　an　arrow。　Uncle　Eb　used　to　say　that　its　one　long；　naked　branch　that　swung　and　creaked　near　the　top　of　it；　like　a　sign　of　hospitality　on　the　highway　of　the　birds；　was　two　hundred　feet　above　ground。　There　were　a　few　stubs　here　and　there　upon　its　shaft　…the　roost　of　crows　and　owls　and　hen…hawks。　It　must　have　passed　for　a　low　resort　in　the　feathered　kingdom　because　it　was　only　the　robbers　of　the　sky　that　halted　on　Lone　Pine。

This　towering　shaft　of　dead　timber　commemorated　the　ancient　forest　through　which　the　northern　Yankees　cut　their　trails　in　the　beginning　of　the　century。　They　were　a　tall；　big　fisted；　brawny　lot　of　men　who　came　across　the　Adirondacks　from　Vermont；　and　began　to　break　the　green　canopy　that　for　ages　had　covered　the　valley　of　the　St　Lawrence。　Generally　they　drove　a　cow　with　them；　and　such　game　as　they　could　kill　on　the　journey　supplemented　their　diet　of　'pudding　and　milk'。　Some　settled　where　the　wagon　broke　or　where　they　had　buried　a　member　of　the　family；　and　there　they　cleared　the　forests　that　once　covered　the　smooth　acres　of　today。　Gradually　the　rough　surface　of　the　trail　grew　smoother　until　it　became　Paradise　Road　…　the　well…worn　thoroughfare　of　the　stagecoach　with　its　'inns　and　outs'；　as　the　drivers　used　to　say　…　the　inns　where　the　'men　folks'　sat　in　the　firelight　of　the　blating　logs　after　supper　and　told　tales　of　adventure　until　bedtime；　while　the　women　sat　with　their　knitting　in　the　parlour；　and　the　young　men　wrestled　in　the　stableyard。　The　men　of　middle　age　had　stooped　and　massive　shoulders；　and　deep…furrowed　brows：　Tell　one　of　them　he　was　growing　old　and　he　might　answer　you　by　holding　his　whip　in　front　of　him　and　leaping　over　it　between　his　hands。

There　was　a　little　clearing　around　that　big　pine　tree　when　David　Brower　settled　in　the　valley。　Its　shadows　shifting　in　the　light　of　sun　and　moon；　like　the　arm　of　a　compass；　swept　the　spreading　acres　of　his　farm；　and　he　built　his　house　some　forty　rods　from　the　foot　of　it　on　higher　ground。　David　was　the　oldest　of　thirteen　children。　His　father　had　died　the　year　before　he　came　to　St　Lawrence　county；　leaving　him　nothing　but　heavy　responsibilities。　Fortunately；　his　great　strength　and　his　kindly　nature　were　equal　to　the　burden。　Mother　and　children　were　landed　safely　in　their　new　home　on　Bowman's　Hill　the　day　that　David　was　eighteen。　I　have　heard　the　old　folks　of　that　country　tell　what　a　splendid　figure　of　a　man　he　was　those　days　…　six　feet　one　in　his　stockings　and　broad　at　the　shoulder。　His　eyes　were　grey　and　set　under　heavy　brows。　I　have　never　forgotten　the　big　man　that　laid　hold　of　me　and　the　broad　clean…shaven　serious　face；　that　looked　into　mine　the　day　I　came　to　Paradise　Valley。　As　I　write　I　can　see　plainly　his　dimpled　chin；　his　large　nose；　his　firm　mouth　that　was　the