书城公版The Complete Writings
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第372章

But Cynthia, who could afford to be generous now, said she liked black hair, and she wished hers was dark.Whereupon John protested that he liked light hair--auburn hair--of all things.

And Cynthia said that Sally was a dear, good girl, and she did n't believe one word of the story that she only really found one red ear at the husking that night, and hid that and kept pulling it out as if it were a new one.

And so the conversation, once started, went on as briskly as possible about the paring-bee, and the spelling-school, and the new singing-master who was coming, and how Jack Thompson had gone to Northampton to be a clerk in a store, and how Elvira Reddington, in the geography class at school, was asked what was the capital of Massachusetts, and had answered "Northampton," and all the school laughed.John enjoyed the conversation amazingly, and he half wished that he and Cynthia were the whole of the party.

But the party had meantime got into operation, and the formality was broken up when the boys and girls had ventured out of the parlor into the more comfortable living-room, with its easy-chairs and everyday things, and even gone so far as to penetrate the kitchen in their frolic.As soon as they forgot they were a party, they began to enjoy themselves.

But the real pleasure only began with the games.The party was nothing without the games, and, indeed, it was made for the games.

Very likely it was one of the timid girls who proposed to play something, and when the ice was once broken, the whole company went into the business enthusiastically.There was no dancing.We should hope not.Not in the deacon's house; not with the deacon's daughters, nor anywhere in this good Puritanic society.Dancing was a sin in itself, and no one could tell what it would lead to.But there was no reason why the boys and girls shouldn't come together and kiss each other during a whole evening occasionally.Kissing was a sign of peace, and was not at all like taking hold of hands and skipping about to the scraping of a wicked fiddle.

In the games there was a great deal of clasping hands, of going round in a circle, of passing under each other's elevated arms, of singing about my true love, and the end was kisses distributed with more or less partiality, according to the rules of the play; but, thank Heaven, there was no fiddler.John liked it all, and was quite brave about paying all the forfeits imposed on him, even to the kissing all the girls in the room; but he thought he could have amended that by kissing a few of them a good many times instead of kissing them all once.

But John was destined to have a damper put upon his enjoyment.They were playing a most fascinating game, in which they all stand in a circle and sing a philandering song, except one who is in the center of the ring, and holds a cushion.At a certain word in the song, the one in the center throws the cushion at the feet of some one in the ring, indicating thereby the choice of a "mate" and then the two sweetly kneel upon the cushion, like two meek angels, and--and so forth.Then the chosen one takes the cushion and the delightful play goes on.It is very easy, as it will be seen, to learn how to play it.Cynthia was holding the cushion, and at the fatal word she threw it down, not before John, but in front of Ephraim Leggett.And they two kneeled, and so forth.John was astounded.He had never conceived of such perfidy in the female heart.He felt like wiping Ephraim off the face of the earth, only Ephraim was older and bigger than he.When it came his turn at length,--thanks to a plain little girl for whose admiration he did n't care a straw,--he threw the cushion down before Melinda Mayhew with all the devotion he could muster, and a dagger look at Cynthia.And Cynthia's perfidious smile only enraged him the more.John felt wronged, and worked himself up to pass a wretched evening.

When supper came, he never went near Cynthia, and busied himself in carrying different kinds of pie and cake, and red apples and cider, to the girls he liked the least.He shunned Cynthia, and when he was accidentally near her, and she asked him if he would get her a glass of cider, he rudely told her--like a goose as he was--that she had better ask Ephraim.That seemed to him very smart; but he got more and more miserable, and began to feel that he was ****** himself ridiculous.

Girls have a great deal more good sense in such matters than boys.

Cynthia went to John, at length, and asked him simply what the matter was.John blushed, and said that nothing was the matter.Cynthia said that it wouldn't do for two people always to be together at a party; and so they made up, and John obtained permission to "see"Cynthia home.

It was after half-past nine when the great festivities at the Deacon's broke up, and John walked home with Cynthia over the shining crust and under the stars.It was mostly a silent walk, for this was also an occasion when it is difficult to find anything fit to say.

And John was thinking all the way how he should bid Cynthia good-night; whether it would do and whether it wouldn't do, this not being a game, and no forfeits attaching to it.When they reached the gate, there was an awkward little pause.John said the stars were uncommonly bright.Cynthia did not deny it, but waited a minute and then turned abruptly away, with "Good-night, John!""Good-night, Cynthia!"

And the party was over, and Cynthia was gone, and John went home in a kind of dissatisfaction with himself.

It was long before he could go to sleep for thinking of the new world opened to him, and imagining how he would act under a hundred different circumstances, and what he would say, and what Cynthia would say; but a dream at length came, and led him away to a great city and a brilliant house; and while he was there, he heard a loud rapping on the under floor, and saw that it was daylight.

XIV

THE SUGAR CAMP