The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 64, February, 1863

Оглавление

Various. The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 64, February, 1863

SOVEREIGNS AND SONS

UNDER THE PEAR-TREE

PART I

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

THRENODY

THE UTILITY AND THE FUTILITY OF APHORISMS

SHELLEY

THE TEST

THE PREACHER'S TRIAL

THE GHOST OF LITTLE JACQUES

BOSTON HYMN

THE SIEGE OF CINCINNATI

"PROCLAMATION

JANE AUSTEN

THE PROCLAMATION

THE LAW OF COSTS

THE CHASSEURS À PIED

LATEST VIEWS OF MR. BIGLOW

REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES

Отрывок из книги

One Sunday morning, long ago, a girl stood in her bed-room, lingeringly occupied with the last touches of her toilet.

A string of beads, made of pure gold and as large as peas, lay before her. They had been her mother's,—given to her when the distracted state of American currency made a wedding-present of the precious metal as welcome as it was valuable. Three several times, under circumstances of great pecuniary urgency, had the beads sufficed, one by one, to restore the family to comfort,—to pay the expenses of a journey, to buy seed-grain, and to make out the payment of a yoke of oxen. Afterwards, when peace and plenty came to be housemates in the land, the gold beads were redeemed, and the necklace, dearer than ever, encircled the neck of the only daughter.

.....

Monday, and the hurly-burly of washing over. Dorcas had nearly finished her "stent" on the little wheel. As she sat by the open door, diligently trotting her foot, and softly pulling the last flax from her distaff, her glance went hastily and often towards the setting sun. She could see beyond the sloping orchard, no longer loaded with fruit, the Great Meadows, extending along the banks of the Connecticut. She could see on the eastern side great white mountains, that went modestly by the name of hills, and that came in after-years to draw pilgrims from the ends of the earth. They were white-capped and solemn-looking, and girdled by majestic forests; while the Green Mountains, that lay along the horizon, not so high as "the Hills," were crowned with verdure to the very top, and flaming with autumn dyes. As far as the eye reached, beyond the immediate view rose an immense solitude of forest that had lasted through centuries.

Dorcas's eyes rested and roamed alternately over these massive natural features. She felt dimly in her heart the effect of the solemn aspect of these great wastes,—these sublime possibilities, concealed and waiting for the energy of man to discover them. A melancholy, sweet and soft, composed partly of the effect of the view, and partly of the languor of the Indian-summer weather, diffused itself over her. She accused herself of various sins,—of levity, vanity, and not knowing her own mind. Soon, however, feeling her unskilfulness to steer, she abandoned the bark, and left it to drift. She must see Swan Day.

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