第 15 节
作者:
美丽心点 更新:2023-05-17 13:23 字数:9322
six of the seven trunks。 He en… deavored to define; picture; elucidate; set
forth and describe a farm。 His own words sounded strange in his ears。 He
had not realized how thoroughly urbsi… dized he had become。
A week passed and found them landed at the little country station five
hours out from the city。 A grin… ning; stentorian; sarcastic youth driving a
mule to a spring wagon hailed Robert savagely。
〃Hallo; Mr。 Walmsley。 Found your way back at last; have you? Sorry I
couldn't bring in the auto… mobile for you; but dad's bull…tonguing the ten…
acre clover patch with it to…day。 Guess you'll excuse my; not wearing a
dress suit over to meet you it ain't six o'clock yet; you know。〃
〃I'm glad to see you; Tom;〃 said Robert; grasp… ing his brother's band。
〃Yes; I've found my way at last。 You've a right to say 'at last。' It's been over
two years since the last time。 But it will be oftener after this; my boy。〃
Alicia; cool in the summer beat as an Arctic wraith; white as a Norse
snow maiden in her flimsy muslin and fluttering lace parasol; came round
the corner of the station; and Tom was stripped of his assurance。 He
became chiefly eyesight clothed in blue jeans; and on the homeward drive
to the mule alone did he confide in language the inwardness of his
thoughts。
They drove homeward。 The low sun dropped a spendthrift flood of
gold upon the fortunate fields of wheat。 The cities were far away。 The road
lay curl… ing around wood and dale and bill like a ribbon lost from the robe
of careless summer。 The wind followed like a whinnying colt in the track
of Phoebus's steeds。
By and by the farmhouse peeped gray out of its faithful grove; they
saw the long lane with its convoy of walnut trees running from the road to
the house; they smelled the wild rose and the breath of cool; damp willows
in the creek's bed。 And then in unison all the voices of the soil began a
chant addressed to the soul of Robert Walmsley。 Out of the tilted aisles of
the dim wood they came hollowly; they chirped and buzzed from the
55
… Page 56…
The Voice of the City
parched grass; they trilled from the ripples of the creek ford; they floated
up in clear Pan's pipe notes from the dimming meadows; the
whippoorwills joined in as they pursued midges in the upper air; slow…
going cow…bells struck out a homely accompaniment and this was what
each one said: 〃You've found your way back at last; have you?〃
The old voices of the soil spoke to him。 Leaf and bud and blossom
conversed with him in the old vocabu… lary of his careless youth … the
inanimate things; the familiar stones and rails; the gates and furrows and
roofs and turns of the road had an eloquence; too; and a power in the
transformation。 The country had smiled and he had felt the breath of it;
and his heart was drawn as if in a moment back to his old love。 The city
was far away。
This rural atavism; then; seized Robert Walmsley and possessed him。
A queer thing he noticed in con… nection with it was that Alicia; sitting at
his side; suddenly seemed to him a stranger。 She did not be… long to this
recurrent phase。 Never before had she seemed so remote; so colorless and
high … so intan… gible and unreal。 And yet he had never admired her more
than when she sat there by him in the rickety spring wagon; chiming no
more with his mood and with her environment than the Matterhorn chimes
with a peasant's cabbage garden。
That night when the greetings and the supper were over; the entire
family; including Buff; the yellow dog; bestrewed itself upon the front
porch。 Alicia; not haughty but silent; sat in the shadow dressed in an
exquisite pale…gray tea gown。 Robert's mother dis… coursed to her happily
concerning marmalade and lumbago。 Tom sat on the top step; Sisters
Millie and Pam on the lowest step to catch the lightning bugs。 Mother had
the willow rocker。 Father sat in the big armchair with one of its arms gone。
Buff sprawled in the middle of the porch in everybody's way。 The twilight
pixies and pucks stole forth un… seen and plunged other poignant shafts of
memory into the heart of Robert。 A rural madness entered his soul。 The
city was far away。
Father sat without his pipe; writhing in his heavy boots; a sacrifice to
rigid courtesy。 Robert shouted: 〃No; you don't!〃 He fetched the pipe and lit
it; be seized the old gentleman's boots and tore them off。 The last one
56
… Page 57…
The Voice of the City
slipped suddenly; and Mr。 Robert Walmsley; of Washington Square;
tumbled off the porch backward with Buff on top of him; bowling
fearfully。 Tom laughed sarcastically。
Robert tore off his coat and vest and hurled them into a lilac bush。
〃Come out here; you landlubber;〃 be cried to Tom; and I'll put grass
seed on your back。 I think you Called me a 'dude' a while ago。 Come along
and cut your capers。〃
Tom understood the invitation and accepted it with delight。 Three
times they wrestled on the grass; 〃side holds;〃 even as the giants of the
mat。 And twice was Tom forced to bite grass at the hands of the
distinguished lawyer。 Dishevelled; panting; each still boasting of his own
prowess; they stumbled back to the porch。 Millie cast a pert reflection
upon the qualities of a city brother。 In an instant Robert had secured a
horrid katydid in his fingers and bore down upon her。 Screaming wildly;
she fled up the lane; pursued by the avenging glass of form。 A quarter of a
mile and they returned; she full of apology to the victorious 〃 dude。〃 The
rustic mania possessed him unabatedly。
I can do up a cowpenful of you slow hayseeds;〃 he proclaimed;
vaingloriously。 〃Bring on your bull… dogs; your hired men and your log…
rollers。〃
He turned handsprings on the grass that prodded Tom to envious
sarcasm。 And then; with a whoop; he clattered to the rear and brought back
Uncle like; a battered colored retainer of the family; with his banjo; and
strewed sand on the porch and danced 〃Chicken in the Bread Tray〃 and
did buck…and… wing wonders for half an hour longer。 Incredibly; wild and
boisterous things he did。 He sang; he told stories that set all but one
shrieking; he played the yokel; the humorous clodhopper; he was mad; and
with the revival of the old life in his blood。 He became so extravagant that
once his mother sought gently to reprove him。 Then Alicia moved as
though she were about to speak; but she did not。 Through it all she sat
immovable; a slim; white spirit in the dusk that no man might question or
read。
By and by she asked permission to ascend to her room; saying that she
was tired。 On her way she passed Robert。 He was standing in the door; the
57
… Page 58…
The Voice of the City
figure of vulgar comedy; with ruffled hair; reddened face and
unpardonable confusion of attire no trace there of the immaculate
Robert Walmsley; the courted clubman and ornament of select circles。 He
was do… ing a conjuring trick with some household utensils; and the family;
now won over to him without excep… tion; was beholding him with
worshipful admiration。
As Alicia passed in Robert started suddenly。 He had forgotten for the
moment that she was present。
Without a glance at him she went on upstairs。
After that the fun grew quiet。 An hour passed in talk; and then Robert
went up himself。
She was standing by the window when he entered their room。 She was
still clothed as when they were on the porch。 Outside and crowding
against the window was a giant apple tree; full blossomed。
Robert sighed and went near the window。 He was ready to meet his
fate。 A confessed vulgarian; he foresaw the verdict of justice in the shape
of that whiteclad form。 He knew the rigid lines that a Van De