The Gentleman from Everywhere | Page 5

everybody sick with their

noxious odors so that we might not be too much wedded to this
transitory existence. Pork, beans, and cabbage must be devoured in
enormous quantities just before going to bed for the purpose of
inspiring midnight groans and prayers to be delivered from the pangs of
the civil war in the inner man.
This moralizing is inspired by the pessimism of disenchanted age; but
on that beautiful morning of the long ago, naught occurred to me save
the wedlock of earth and heaven: I was near to nature's heart, listening
to the ecstatic songs of the robins, the orioles and sweetest of all the
bobolink.
"Oh, winged rapture, feathered soul of spring: Blithe voice of woods,
fields, waters, all in one, Pipe blown through by the warm, mild breath
of June, Shepherding her white flocks of woolly clouds, The bobolink
has come, and climbs the wind With rippling wings that quiver not for
flight But only joy, or yielding to its will Runs down, a brook of
laughter through the air."
After the charm of the novelty of the scene had vanished, I descended
from my perch to explore this sleepy hollow: the barn door hung
suspended on a single hinge, like a bird with but one unbroken wing to
soar upon. The swallows twittered their love-songs under the eaves;
chipmunks scolded my intrusion and threw nuts at my head from the
beams; a lone, lorn hen proclaimed her triumph over a new laid egg,
and then, with fiery eyes, assaulted me with profanity as I filled my hat
with her choicest treasures. A litter of pigs scampered away, wedging
themselves into a hole in the wall, and hung there kicking and
squealing, while their indignant mother chased me up a ladder where
she hurled at me the vilest imprecations; a solitary Phoebe bird wailed
out her plaintive "pee wee, pee wee, pee whi itt," and a newly-married
pair of sandpipers chanted their song of the sea on the edge of a mud
puddle in the yard.
At last the infuriated sow went to liberate her wedged-in offspring,
leaving me to flee to the house where I cooked my eggs and some
ancient potatoes in the ashes of a fire smoldering in the wide old
fireplace. I have since eaten royal dinners in palatial hotels, but nothing

has ever tasted half as good as this extemporized lunch of my boyhood.
Here the rest of the family found me later when they came bringing
their household goods; here I might have laid, broad and deep, the
foundations of a useful life, had I possessed even a modicum of the
stick-to-itiveness so essential to success.
A limited amount of discontent is a powerful stimulus to more
strenuous endeavor; but when you have intensity without continuity of
mental action, beware of imitating my example of progressing along
the lines of the least resistance; for if you do you will never attain to
that persistency of effort which can come only from overcoming
obstacles.
When my father gave me a moderate task of weeding onions, I soon
became tired of crawling on hands and knees under a scorching sun,
inundating the earth with perspiration and tears, so I substituted a hoe
for fingers, tearing up onions with the weeds that I might the sooner
secure unlimited rheumatism by bathing in the brook. Had my father
given me what he earnestly desired, and what I richly deserved,--a
sound spanking, and more weeding to do,--I might have developed
much needed perseverance, but spanking was never allowed by my
fond mother, and I became a shirk.
I was set to picking berries to replenish the family larder; but this soon
became monotonous, and I appropriated the old grain-sieve, placing it
beside the bushes, and pounding the huckleberries into it with a stick;
the result was a heterogeneous conglomeration of worms, leaves, bugs,
and crushed berries; but I succeeded in eliminating the refuse by
throwing the whole mass into a tub of water, and skimming off the
risings. I would then descant to buyers upon the freshness of the berries
wet with the dews of heaven, but my ruse was soon discovered, and
people refused to purchase such mucilaginous pulp.
Our widowed hired woman was possessed of a baby, and I was
assigned the task of rocking the cradle; but I soon sighed for the apple
blossoms and songs of birds,--we had no English sparrows then--so I
drove a nail into the cradle, tied to it the clothes-line, and went out of

doors and began pulling at the cord. Soon agonizing screams were
heard, and baby was found on the floor with the cradle pounding on top
of him.
I was sent to drive home the cows from pasture, but left the task to the
dog, who