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第63章

英语天堂-第63章

小说: 英语天堂 字数: 每页4000字

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rinciple to endure everything in silence; it’s a wife’s hard lot; and I bear it。 But I did break out; that time; so that he has never alluded to the subject since。 But I know by his looks; and little things that he says; that he thinks so as much as ever; and it’s so trying; so provoking!”
Miss Ophelia looked very much as if she was afraid she should say something; but she rattled away with her needles in a way that had volumes of meaning in it; if Marie could only have understood it。
“So; you just see;” she continued; “what you’ve got to manage。 A household without any rule; where servants have it all their own way; do what they please; and have what they please; except so far as I; with my feeble health; have kept up government。 I keep my cowhide about; and sometimes I do lay it on; but the exertion is always too much for me。 If St。 Clare would only have this thing done as others do—”
“And how’s that?”
“Why; send them to the calaboose; or some of the other places to be flogged。 That’s the only way。 If I wasn’t such a poor; feeble piece; I believe I should manage with twice the energy that St。 Clare does。”
“And how does St。 Clare contrive to manage?” said Miss Ophelia。 “You say he never strikes a blow。”
“Well; men have a more commanding way; you know; it is easier for them; besides; if you ever looked full in his eye; it’s peculiar;—that eye;—and if he speaks decidedly; there’s a kind of flash。 I’m afraid of it; myself; and the servants know they must mind。 I couldn’t do as much by a regular storm and scolding as St。 Clare can by one turn of his eye; if once he is in earnest。 O; there’s no trouble about St。 Clare; that’s the reason he’s no more feeling for me。 But you’ll find; when you come to manage; that there’s no getting along without severity;—they are so bad; so deceitful; so lazy”。
“The old tune;” said St。 Clare; sauntering in。 “What an awful acomount these wicked creatures will have to settle; at last; especially for being lazy! You see; cousin;” said he; as he stretched himself at full length on a lounge opposite to Marie; “it’s wholly inexcusable in them; in the light of the example that Marie and I set them;—this laziness。”
“Come; now; St。 Clare; you are too bad!” said Marie。
“Am I; now? Why; I thought I was talking good; quite remarkably for me。 I try to enforce your remarks; Marie; always。”
“You know you meant no such thing; St。 Clare;” said Marie。
“O; I must have been mistaken; then。 Thank you; my dear; for setting me right。”
“You do really try to be provoking;” said Marie。
“O; come; Marie; the day is growing warm; and I have just had a long quarrel with Dolph; which has fatigued me excessively; so; pray be agreeable; now; and let a fellow repose in the light of your smile。”
“What’s the matter about Dolph?” said Marie。 “That fellow’s impudence has been growing to a point that is perfectly intolerable to me。 I only wish I had the undisputed management of him a while。 I’d bring him down!”
“What you say; my dear; is marked with your usual acuteness and good sense;” said St。 Clare。 “As to Dolph; the case is this: that he has so long been engaged in imitating my graces and perfections; that he has; at last; really mistaken himself for his master; and I have been obliged to give him a little insight into his mistake。”
“How?” said Marie。
“Why; I was obliged to let him understand explicitly that I preferred to keep some of my clothes for my own personal wearing; also; I put his magnificence upon an allowance of cologne…water; and actually was so cruel as to restrict him to one dozen of my cambric handkerchiefs。 Dolph was particularly huffy about it; and I had to talk to him like a father; to bring him round。”
“O! St。 Clare; when will you learn how to treat your servants? It’s abominable; the way you indulge them!” said Marie。
“Why; after all; what’s the harm of the poor dog’s wanting to be like his master; and if I haven’t brought him up any better than to find his chief good in cologne and cambric handkerchiefs; why shouldn’t I give them to him?”
“And why haven’t you brought him up better?” said Miss Ophelia; with blunt determination。
“Too much trouble;—laziness; cousin; laziness;—which ruins more souls than you can shake a stick at。 If it weren’t for laziness; I should have been a perfect angel; myself。 I’m inclined to think that laziness is what your old Dr。 Botherem; up in Vermont; used to call the ‘essence of moral evil。’ It’s an awful consideration; certainly。”
“I think you slaveholders have an awful responsibility upon you;” said Miss Ophelia。 “I wouldn’t have it; for a thousand worlds。 You ought to educate your slaves; and treat them like reasonable creatures;—like immortal creatures; that you’ve got to stand before the bar of God with。 That’s my mind;” said the good lady; breaking suddenly out with a tide of zeal that had been gaining strength in her mind all the morning。
“O! come; come;” said St。 Clare; getting up quickly; “what do you know about us?” And he sat down to the piano; and rattled a lively piece of music。 St。 Clare had a decided genius for music。 His touch was brilliant and firm; and his fingers flew over the keys with a rapid and bird…like motion; airy; and yet decided。 He played piece after piece; like a man who is trying to play himself into a good humor。 After pushing the music aside; he rose up; and said; gayly; “Well; now; cousin; you’ve given us a good talk and done your duty; on the whole; I think the better of you for it。 I make no manner of doubt that you threw a very diamond of truth at me; though you see it hit me so directly in the face that it wasn’t exactly appreciated; at first。”
“For my part; I don’t see any use in such sort of talk;” said Marie。 “I’m sure; if anybody does more for servants than we do; I’d like to know who; and it don’t do ’em a bit good;—not a particle;—they get worse and worse。 As to talking to them; or anything like that; I’m sure I have talked till I was tired and hoarse; telling them their duty; and all that; and I’m sure they can go to church when they like; though they don’t understand a word of the sermon; more than so many pigs;—so it isn’t of any great use for them to go; as I see; but they do go; and so they have every chance; but; as I said before; they are a degraded race; and always will be; and there isn’t any help for them; you can’t make anything of them; if you try。 You see; Cousin Ophelia; I’ve tried; and you haven’t; I was born and bred among them; and I know。”
Miss Ophelia thought she had said enough; and therefore sat silent。 St。 Clare whistled a tune。
“St。 Clare; I wish you wouldn’t whistle;” said Marie; “it makes my head worse。”
“I won’t;” said St。 Clare。 “Is there anything else you wouldn’t wish me to do?”
“I wish you would have some kind of sympathy for my trials; you never have any feeling for me。”
“My dear acomusing angel!” said St。 Clare。
“It’s provoking to be talked to in that way。”
“Then; how will you be talked to? I’ll talk to order;—any way you’ll mention;—only to give satisfaction。”
A gay laugh from the court rang through the silken curtains of the verandah。 St。 Clare stepped out; and lifting up the curtain; laughed too。
“What is it?” said Miss Ophelia; coming to the railing。
There sat Tom; on a little mossy seat in the court; every one of his button…holes stuck full of cape jessamines; and Eva; gayly laughing; was hanging a wreath of roses round his neck; and then she sat down on his knee; like a chip…sparrow; still laughing。
“O; Tom; you look so funny!”
Tom had a sober; benevolent smile; and seemed; in his quiet way; to be enjoying the fun quite as much as his little mistress。 He lifted his eyes; when he saw his master; with a half…deprecating; apologetic air。
“How can you let her?” said Miss Ophelia。
“Why not?” said St。 Clare。
“Why; I don’t know; it seems so dreadful!”
“You would think no harm in a child’s caressing a large dog; even if he was black; but a creature that can think; and reason; and feel; and is immortal; you shudder at; confess it; cousin。 I know the feeling among some of you northerners well enough。 Not that there is a particle of virtue in our not having it; but custom with us does what Christianity ought to do;—obliterates the feeling of personal prejudice。 I have often noticed; in my travels north; how much stronger this was with you than with us。 You loathe them as you would a snake or a toad; yet you are indignant at their wrongs。 You would not have them abused; but you don’t want to have anything to do with them yourselves。 You would send them to Africa; out of your sight and smell; and then send a missionary or two to do up all the self…denial of elevating them compendiously。 Isn’t that it?”
“Well; cousin;” said Miss Ophelia; thoughtfully; “there may be some truth in this。”
“What would the poor and lowly do; without children?” said St。 Clare; leaning on the railing; and watching Eva; as she tripped off; leading Tom with her。 “Your little child is your only true democrat。 Tom; now is a hero to Eva; his stories are wonders in her eyes; his songs and Methodist hymns are better than an opera; and the traps and little bits of trash in his pocket a mine of jewels; and he the most wonderful Tom that ever wore a black skin。 This is one of the roses of Eden that the Lord has dropped down expressly for the poor and lowly; who get few enough of any other kind。”
“It’s strange; cousin;” said Miss Ophelia; “one might almost think you were a professor; to hear you talk。”
“A professor?” said St。 Clare。
“Yes; a professor of religion。”
“Not at all; not a professor; as your town…folks have it; and; what is worse; I’m afraid; not a practiser; either。”
“What makes you talk so; then?”
“Nothing is easier than talking;” said St。 Clare。 “I believe Shakespeare makes somebody say; ‘I could sooner show twenty what were good to be done; than be one of the twenty to follow my own showing。’1 Nothing like division of labor。 My forte lies in talking; and yours; cousin; lies in doing。”
In Tom’s external situation; at this time; there was; as the world says; nothing to complain of Little Eva’s fancy for him—the instinctive gratitude and loveliness of a noble nature—had led her to petition her father that he might be her especial attendant; whenever she needed the escort of a servant; in her walks or rides; and Tom had general orders to let everything else go; and attend to Miss Eva whenever she wanted him;—orders which our readers may fancy were far from disagreeable to him。 He was kept well dressed; for St。 Clare was fastidiously particular on this point。 His stable services were merely a sinecure; and consisted simply in a daily care and inspection; and directing an under…servant in his duties; for Marie St。 Clare declared that she could not have any smell of the horses about him when he came near her; and that he must positively not be put to any service that would make him unpleasant to her; as her nervous system was entirely inadequate to any trial of that nature; one snuff of anything disagreeable being; acomording to her acomount; quite sufficient to close the scene; and put an end to all her earthly trials 

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