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Great maples; heavy with leaves; stood out against the soft blue of the sky;
and the sunlight poured over everything; bathing the stone walls; the thatches
of the farmhouses; extracting from the copses of stunted pine a pungent;
reviving perfume。 Sometimes she stopped to rest on the pine needles; and
walked on again; aimlessly; following the road because it was the easiest way。
There were spring flowers in the farmhouse yards; masses of lilacs whose purple
she drank in eagerly; the air; which had just a tang of New England sharpness;
was filled with tender sounds; the clucking of hens; snatches of the songs of
birds; the rustling of maple leaves in the fitful breeze。 A chipmunk ran down
an elm and stood staring at her with beady; inquisitive eyes; motionless save
for bas quivering tail; and she put forth her hand; shyly; beseechingly; as
though he held the secret of life she craved。 But he darted away。
She looked around her unceasingly; at the sky; at the trees; at the flowers and
ferns and fields; at the vireos and thrushes; the robins and tanagers gashing
in and out amidst the foliage; and she was filled with a strange yearning to
expand and expand until she should become a part of all nature; be absorbed
into it; cease to be herself。 Never before had she known just that feeling;
that degree of ecstasy mingled with divine discontent 。。。。 Occasionally;
intruding faintly upon the countryside peace; she was aware of a distant
humming sound that grew louder and louder until there shot roaring past her an
automobile filled with noisy folk; leaving behind it a suffocating cloud of
dust。 Even these intrusions; reminders of the city she had left; were
powerless to destroy her mood; and she began to skip; like a schoolgirl;
pausing once in a while to look around her fearfully; lest she was observed;
and it pleased her to think that she had escaped forever; that she would never
go back: she cried aloud; as she skipped; 〃I won't go back; I won't go back;〃
keeping time with her feet until she was out of breath and almost intoxicated;
delirious; casting herself down; her heart beating wildly; on a bank of ferns;
burying her face in them。 She had really stopped because a pebble had got into
her shoe; and as she took it out she looked at her bare heel and remarked
ruefully:
〃Those twenty…five cent stockings aren't worth buying!〃
Economic problems; however; were powerless to worry her to…day; when the sun
shone and the wind blew and the ferns; washed by the rill running through the
culvert under the road; gave forth a delicious moist odour reminding her of the
flower store where her sister Lise had once been employed。 But at length she
arose; and after an hour or more of sauntering the farming landscape was left
behind; the crumbling stone fences were replaced by a well…kept retaining wall
capped by a privet hedge; through which; between stone pillars; a driveway
entered and mounted the shaded slope; turning and twisting until lost to view。
But afar; standing on the distant crest; through the tree trunks and foliage
Janet saw one end of the mansion to which it led; and ventured timidly but
eagerly in among the trees in the hope of satisfying her new…born curiosity。
Try as she would; she never could get any but disappointing and partial
glimpses of a house which; because of the mystery of its setting; fired her
imagination; started her to wondering why it was that some were permitted to
live in the midst of such beauty while she was condemned to spend her days in
Fillmore Street and the prison of the mill。 She was not even allowed to look
at it! The thought was like a cloud across the sun。
However; when she had regained the tarvia road and walked a little way the
shadow suddenly passed; and she stood surprised。 The sight of a long common
with its ancient trees in the fullness of glory; dense maples; sturdy oaks;
strong; graceful elms that cast flickering; lacy shadows across the road filled
her with satisfaction; with a sense of peace deepened by the awareness; in the
background; ranged along the common on either side; of stately; dignified
buildings; each in an appropriate frame of foliage。 With the essence rather
than the detail of all this her consciousness became steeped; she was naturally
ignorant of the great good fortune of Silliston Academy of having been spared
with one or two exceptionsdonations during those artistically lean years of
the nineteenth century when American architecture affected the Gothic; the
Mansard; and the subsequent hybrid。 She knew this must be Silliston; the seat
of that famous academy of which she had heard。
The older school buildings and instructors' houses; most of them white or
creamy yellow; were native Colonial; with tall; graceful chimneys and classic
pillars and delicate balustrades; eloquent at once of the racial inheritance of
the Republic and of a bygone individuality; dignity; and pride。 And the modern
architect; of whose work there was an abundance; had graciously and intuitively
held this earlier note and developed it。 He was an American; but an American
who had been trained。 The result was harmony; life as it should proceed; the
new growing out of the old。 And no greater tribute can be paid to Janet Bumpus
than that it pleased her; struck and set exquisitely vibrating within her
responsive chords。 For the first time in her adult life she stood in the
presence of tradition; of a tradition inherently if unconsciously the innermost
reality of her being a tradition that miraculously was not dead; since after
all the years it had begun to put forth these vigorous shoots。。。。
What Janet chiefly realized was the delicious; contented sense of having come;
visually at least; to the home for which she had longed。 But her humour was
that of a child who has strayed; to find its true dwelling place in a region of
beauty hitherto unexplored and unexperienced; tinged; therefore; with
unreality; with mystery;an effect enhanced by the chance stillness and
emptiness of the place。 She wandered up and down the Common; whose vivid green
was starred with golden dandelions; and then; spying the arched and shady
vista of a lane; entered it; bent on new discoveries。 It led past one of the
newer buildings; the libraryas she read in a carved inscription over the
doorplunged into shade again presently to emerge at a square farmhouse;
ancient and weathered; with a great square chimney thrust out of the very
middle of the ridge…pole;a landmark left by one of the earliest of
Silliston's settlers。 Presiding over it; embracing and protecting it; was a
splendid tree。 The place was evidently in process of reconstruction and
repair; the roof had been newly shingled; new frames; with old…fashioned; tiny
panes had been put in the windows; a little garden was being laid out under the
sheltering branches of the tree; and between the lane and the garden; half
finished; was a fence of an original and pleasing design; consisting of pillars
placed at intervals with upright pickets between; the pickets sawed in curves;
making a line that drooped in the middle。 Janet did not perceive the workman
engaged in building this fence until the sound of his hammer attracted her
attention。 His back was bent; he was absorbed in his task。
〃Are there any stores near here?〃 she inquired。
He straightened up。 〃Why yes;〃 he replied; 〃come to think of it; I have seen
stores; I'm sure I have。〃
Janet laughed; his expression; his manner of speech were so delightfully
whimsical; so in keeping with the spirit of her day; and he seemed to accept
her sudden appearance in the precise make…believe humour she could have wished。
And yet she stood a little struck with timidity; puzzled by the contradictions
he presented of youth and age; of shrewdness; experience and candour; of
gentility and manual toil。 He must have been about thirty…five; he was
hatless; and his hair; uncombed but not unkempt; was greying at the temples;
his eyeswhich she noticed particularlywere keen yet kindly; the irises
delicately stencilled in a remarkable blue; his speech was colloquial yet
cultivated; his workman's clothes belied his bearing。
〃Yes; there are stores; in the village;〃 he went on; 〃but isn't it a holiday;
or Sundayperhapsor something of the kind?〃
〃It's Decoration Day;〃 she reminded him; with deepening surprise。
〃So it is! And all the storekeepers have gone on picnics in their automobiles;
or else they're playing golf。 Nobody's working today。〃
〃But youaren't you working?〃 she inquired。
〃Working?〃 he repeated。 〃I suppose some people would call it work。 II
hadn't thought of it in that way。〃
〃You meanyou like it;〃 Janet was inspired to say。
〃Well; yes;〃 he confessed。 〃I suppose I do。〃
Her cheeks dimpled。 If her wonder had increased; her embarrassment had flown;
and he seemed suddenly an old acquaintance。 She had; however; profound doubts
now of his being a carpenter。
〃Were you thinking of going shopping?〃 he asked; and at the very ludicrousness
of the notion she laughed again。 She discovered a keen relish for this kind of
humour; but it was new to her experience; and she could not cope with it。
〃Onl