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A KENTUCKY CARDINAL 
 
 AND 
 
 AFTERMATH 
 
She could see out of only one eye. 
 
 P. 209. 
 
MESSRS. MACMILLAN & Co., LTD., will 
 be glad to receive a copy of the issue 
 containing a notice of this work. 
 The price of the book is 6/- 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 AND 
 
 Aftermath 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES LANE ALLEN 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' THE CHOIR INVISIBLE,' ETC. 
 
 With Illustrations by 
 HUGH THOMSON 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED 
 
 NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1901 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal. Aftermath. 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894, 1899, COPYRIGHT, 1895, 1899, 
 
 BY HARPER & BROTHERS. BY HARPER & BROTHERS. 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1900, 
 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 
Dedication 
 
 This to her from one who in childhood used to 
 stand at the windows of her room and watch for 
 the Cardinal among the snow -buried cedars. 
 
=qf=i vj x 
 
 SffiU 
 
 A KENTUCKY CARDINAL 
 AFTERMATH 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 157 
 
PAGE 
 
 She could see out of only one eye . . . Frontispiece 
 Many an exquisite strain ...... 5 
 
 Apprehensions of falling weather .... 9 
 
 Raincrow and mocking-bird . . . . .11 
 
 We twittered kindly at each other . . . .13 
 
 Touches her guitar with maidenly solicitude . . 18 
 A distant sharpshooter . . . . 23 
 
 A false impression of Mrs. Cobb . . . .31 
 
 Got down my map of Kentucky . . . 35 
 
 Certain ladies who bow sweetly to me . . .40 
 The new neighbours have come .... 47 
 
 ' Old man, are you the gardener ? ' . , , 5 1 
 
 I dressed up . . . . , 55 
 
 Over to my woodland pasture . . * . -59 
 Little town boys into my strawberry bed . . .61 
 
xii A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Toploftical strutting . . 76 
 
 I see people on account of my grapes and pears . . 8 1 
 Welcomed her gaily ...... 88 
 
 Knocked reproachfully ... . . 92 
 
 Putting a prop under a too-heavily laden limb . . 96 
 
 Thrust Mrs. Cobb out of the house . . -99 
 
 When she fed her hens ^ . . . 103 
 
 That whipping . . . . . .113 
 
 Looking down at the gate that I made yesterday . .124 
 
 Georgiana and her mother coming out . . .131 
 
 4 But wouldn't I like to have him !' . . . . 139 
 
 'What have you done ?' she implored . . .142 
 A little Saul of Tarsus ...... 147 
 
 ' And is that all ? ' 151 
 
 Set our candles in our windows . . . . .153 
 
 Sylvia and the gosling . ... . .166 
 
 Dropped him out into the street . . . .167 
 
 I tapped it . . . . . . . 171 
 
 'Sylvia, my dear child, how old are you r ' . . . 175 
 
 Sylvia performing . . . . . . .185 
 
 He was sitting on the front porch . . . .192 
 
 Then we set off at a brisk pace . . . . .195 
 
 The three Generals . . . . . . 197 
 
 'I have been married, sir ! ' . . . . .201 
 
 The carpenter and the sewing-girl . . . 205 
 
List of Illustrations xiii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Rosettes of yellow ribbon ...... 209 
 
 She sprang across to me . . . . . .213 
 
 Then her eyes caught sight . . . . ,216 
 
 1 What is it, Mrs. Walters ?' . . . . .218 
 
 The sagacious old soul . . . . .222 
 
 Specimens of my notes and drawings .... 227 
 
 I beheld Georgiana as an old, old lady . . . 249 
 Dropped into a cough . . . . . . 254 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 HE first thing in life that I 
 can remember is the fact of 
 being caught up into some 
 body 's arms and of owning 
 a blue tumbler. Possibly 
 when that gigantic person 
 whoever it was seized 
 me by my two handle 's, I seized my tumbler by 
 its one handle ; and thus the glass and the caress 
 stayed bound together in my memory as parts of the 
 same commotion. But I can never evoke these ill- 
 assorted beginnings of all conscious recollection with 
 out being also obliged to think of a pump on a slippery 
 hill with a brick pavement around it : and a pump 
 and a tumbler and being suddenly snatched off the 
 earth suggest some true story of the times. But, 
 then again, it is impossible to recall the image of 
 this pump without instantly dragging into view the 
 
xvi A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 head and shoulders of a smiling school-teacher, who 
 held me in his arms and who had the power to give 
 away sweet morsels on that occasion ; and why he 
 should appear so early in the procession of small 
 knowledge indeed, at the azoic head of it may 
 be a secret not worth discovering, but it is at least 
 quite certain that no one will ever discover it. 
 
 Most likely, these several things, which are now 
 beheld as compressed into a single scene and instant, 
 existed far apart through time and place. A year 
 arrived when caresses began to be conscious experi 
 ence ; in another I entered upon the ownership of a 
 cerulean mug-, during a third my explorations of 
 the physical world extended to the pump in the yard 
 for one stood there ; on some day of a fourth I 
 may have been led across the woods to the school- 
 house on the mud road perhaps some Friday after 
 noon, when it was customary to have spelling matches, 
 or dialogues and speeches, and when parents came 
 and refreshments the arrival of the refreshments 
 being much more important than that of the parents. 
 Be the truth as it may, the matters set down above 
 are all that I can remember on my own account 
 about my birthplace and my earliest years. They 
 are filaments of the obscurest alg<e, gathered around 
 the coasts of that dim, deep sea which is a child 's 
 
Introduction xvii 
 
 mind and now resembling nothing so much as a 
 barely traceable bunch of outlines pressed on one 
 small card. 
 
 After this everything vanishes tumbler and 
 teacher, pump and pudding. There is an upheaval, 
 or a downfall; and when Memory begins again the 
 weaving of that long seamless living tapestry where- 
 from she has never rested and whereon she is busy 
 yet, I was about two miles away. My father had 
 moved with his family to a farm that had been 
 left to him by his father and entailed for the benefit 
 of us, his children ; and there I continued to live 
 until I was twenty-two years of age, without ever 
 having been outside the state of Kentucky or having 
 seen more than once or twice any but the nearest 
 village. 
 
 The farm to which the scene now shifts was 
 small. I was the last of seven children ; and during 
 the forerunning years of his married life my father, 
 who was of a most generous, unselfish, and trustful 
 nature, had met with reverses ; both his and my 
 mother* s independent fortunes were gone. This 
 piece of property represented a fragment of his 
 fathers estate, just as his fat her s estate represented 
 but a fragment of the wilderness lands of a pioneer 
 
 settler. On it stood a brick house of the Virginia 
 
 b 
 
xviii A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 pattern a very good one for the time at which it 
 had been built. In its original shape it consisted 
 of that part which was two stories high ; but later 
 (I do not know when or by whom} there had been 
 added at the southern end an ell containing, besides 
 a pantry and a kitchen, one chamber, the largest 
 room in the house. 
 
 This was occupied by my father and mother. 
 Thus, in accordance with the common custom of the 
 country in those days, it became the general living- 
 room of the family. Its two good-sized windows 
 opened upon the front yard. One of these was 
 kept closed, because the bed sat against it ; the other 
 was regularly closed at nightfall, and regularly 
 opened the first thing in the morning. 
 
 In this room, then, and at this window begins 
 the history of my outdoor life. There my impressions 
 of the physical world took earliest shape and mean 
 ing ; whatsoever unimportant habits of observation 
 I may possess were there formed, directed, and 
 rewarded ; and if I have ever written anything 
 concerning Nature which shows the slightest know 
 ledge or feeling if in far later years I have ever 
 lingered over a page, vainly trying to put upon it 
 the reality of external things as they seem to us, 
 and the reality of the emotions they arouse in 
 
Introduction xix 
 
 us the origin of it all goes back to that time 
 and 'place. 
 
 Of the other portions of the house, any account 
 would enter but unprofitably into the purpose of 
 these recollections. True, I early acquired excellent 
 information regarding the pantry next door. It was 
 full of things that once had been in Nature, but were 
 soon to be in Man. And in Me. Substances piled 
 up, simply waiting to be taken in : why keep them 
 waiting ? It was one of the places in which a boy 
 sometimes lengthens his life and sometimes shortens 
 it, but where meantime he invariably broadens his 
 information and his body. The truth, in any case, 
 would be of no value except as a warning, and there 
 is never anybody to take the warning. Of the 
 kitchen also, adjoining the pantry those twin 
 hostelries of little pattering feet / have recollections 
 that go fairly back to Chaos ; but neither have these 
 anything to do with that one especial end in view, 
 which further on perhaps may kindly justify these 
 frank and unexpected personalities. As for the other 
 rooms the dining-room, the parlour, the bedrooms 
 upstairs, and the enormous garret, above these each 
 in time grew discoverable and definite to my spread 
 ing intelligence until at last I could grasp the entire 
 house as a mental whole, consisting of many orderly 
 
xx A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 and separately interesting parts. But their several 
 diverse histories began later; and none opened for 
 me an eye through which to look out upon the physical 
 world. 
 
 So that there was but one : the window in my 
 fathers and mother s room, that single observatory 
 for a delicate child kept much indoors and having 
 no playmates. At this instant, as I test the matter 
 in consciousness, I possess not a single recollection 
 of this window in summer or of anything I ever 
 saw from it during that season : which means no 
 doubt that then I was never there. But from the 
 first chill days of autumn when the white window- 
 sash was lowered, and doors were shut, and a fire 
 was kindled on the hearth -from that time until late 
 spring, when the sash was thrown up again and 
 doors were set open and the fireplace was white 
 washed for the summer, with a bag of straw rammed 
 up the chimney to keep back soot and swallows the 
 memories of what I looked out upon through that 
 window are so thick that in all the years since I 
 have never exhausted them, and I have but to 
 develop some unused film of memory to find fresh 
 ones at any moment. 
 
 It has been said that the first thing in the morn 
 ing the shutters were thrown open. How often, as 
 
Introduction xxi 
 
 soon as this was done, would my mother call to me 
 and direct my attention to something of interest. 
 Perhaps to the window -'panes themselves ', silvered 
 and sparkling with frost. What a wonder and a 
 mystery to a child" s eyes ! Those landscapes which 
 had settled in a night across his crystal path of vision 
 and now shut out all others ! Until they were 
 melted away by his hot breath, or scratched through 
 with a small curious finger-nail . Sometimes it was 
 as though the distant wood with all its boughs and 
 avenues had thrown its image towards the house 
 not across the sunlight, but under cover of the 
 darkness and this image had been intercepted at 
 the window and fastened there in ice. 
 
 About thirty yards away stood a row of large 
 cedar -trees, the well-nigh universal evergreen in 
 Kentucky front yards at that period, for nurseries 
 were scarce, and a fir, a larch, a juniper, or the 
 like was difficult or impossible to get. How often 
 she called to me, on going to the window herself, to 
 look out at these cedars ! At the first snow, piled 
 lightly on the boughs ; at a male cardinal, sitting on 
 a pinnacle of white and green ; at some great sleet, 
 bending them to the earth, rigid and shapeless. It 
 was she who introduced me to the subject of birds. 
 
 Thus, shut up in a rather lonely farmhouse 
 
xxii A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 with my back to the fire, I learned to send my eyes 
 abroad and to live out of doors with sun and cloud, 
 storm and calm, throughout three-quarters of the 
 year. 
 
 These window observations went on during 
 many returning seasons. Long before they had 
 ceased, they were overlapped by other lines of 
 experience begun outside the house. First in the 
 yard itself ; and has the mature mind ever been able 
 to describe how vast a world a large country yard is 
 to a child? A summer day there was longer than 
 is the man s brief life ; one corner of it more distant 
 from another than continent from continent to his 
 measuring eyes. In the yard I could draw near to 
 many things which I had been obliged to observe 
 from a distance. I could follow them up, lay hold 
 on them, play the mischief. For one thing : I could 
 run, at winter twilights, out to the cedar-trees and 
 seizing a low bough, shake it and scatter the birds 
 settled down for the night ; thus driving them from 
 tree to tree, backward and forward, their cries 
 growing always more distressing in the darkness : a 
 wonderfully interesting piece of business to me for 
 some unknown devilish reason. And then there was 
 the first trap, and the first wild, fluttering captive 
 after breakfast some morning. And when the blue 
 
Introduction xxiii 
 
 grass with orchard grass mixed in it was at its 
 highest, not yet having been mowed, and the cold 
 showers of early June left the tops dripping and 
 bowed down, out of the depths here and there issued 
 all day the cries of the young, fallen from the nest 
 or unable to rise on callow wing out of that chill 
 forest of stems. A fine chance for adventures and a 
 place where a boy can learn to hate cats and never 
 afterwards get over his aversion. 
 
 Passing on, I must yet pause to say that on a 
 Kentucky farm in those days a child was surrounded 
 by a prodigal bird life of which but traces re 
 main. My earliest recollections of daybreak are 
 now condensed into one surviving impression : that of 
 hearing all round my father s house, beating close to 
 the walls and surging faintly and more faintly away 
 in every direction, such a sea of song as I think 
 can no longer visit human ears. Of mornings I was 
 often called out of the house to look at the sky, across 
 which wild geese were flying (/ can still hear the 
 cry of the leaders up there that highest melody of 
 earth]. Or far outnumbering these, wild ducks-, 
 or outnumbering the wild ducks a myriad to one, the 
 wild pigeons now entirely gone. Sometimes the 
 flocks of these dappled for hours the low gray sky 
 over one entire quarter of the heavens : passing, 
 
xxiv A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 passing, passing. At other times a strangely 
 beautiful sight flying high on a clear frosty 
 morning and spread far out in a thin straight line, 
 they passed under the zenith like a moving arch. 
 A procession of arches ! one after another, all borne 
 in the same direction a single instinct in ten 
 thousand breasts. They were visiting still the vast 
 oak forests of Kentucky. The whole land lay across 
 the ancient paths of migration. Strange species now 
 and then crossed also. I can remember that my 
 father, who was a capital shot, standing one day 
 in his stable lot, winged an immense sea-fowl that 
 fluttered far down on a neighbour s estate. He 
 went for it and brought it home ; but not he nor 
 any one else knew the name of it. 
 
 Outside the yard, on every side there lay for me 
 as a child the wonderful universe of the farm. I 
 early began to make the acquaintance of this by 
 sitting on the pommel before my father as he rode 
 over it on his gaited saddle horse. Later I began 
 to ride behind him, thank heavens ! where there 
 was no upward horn-like projection to be perched 
 on, but where 1 could straddle a real soft, fat, 
 living back. There was such a difference between 
 riding on a pommel and riding off of it. My father 
 knew the names of all trees of the land and their 
 
Introduction xxv 
 
 varieties ; and of weed and grass and shrub. He 
 had his wonderful practical knowledge direct from 
 his father, as his father had drawn his from the 
 foregoing pioneer settler ; and thus in the person 
 of my father I touched in some small way that 
 marvellous utilitarian woodcraft possessed by the 
 western frontiersman. 
 
 Through my father also came the earliest know 
 ledge of the fields. I possess no mental picture of 
 him older than that of the sowing of hemp seed. 
 He sat on his saddle horse, whose ears he had tied 
 over with his handkerchief to keep the seed from 
 falling into them. Backward and forward, back 
 ward and forward, across the soft brown earth he 
 rode, sowing the hemp. And through him there 
 was brought into my life perhaps the most whole 
 some idea and lesson that has ever entered it, 
 that of getting down to hard work ; and that what 
 soever work my hand undertook, to rest not until 
 it was done and done with thoroughness. Both 
 he and my mother were of inexorable thoroughness 
 and particularity in all their lives. I have never 
 followed their example but with outward profit and 
 inward peace, nor neglected it without loss of both 
 of these. 
 
 What I have now come to and am trying to 
 
xxvi A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 say is that everything I was set to do, from the 
 beginning to the end of all my small labours on the 
 farm, brought indispensable knowledge; kept me 
 close to the earth ; caused me to know more of the 
 infinite life of out-of-doors. 
 
 I dropped corn, covered it, thinned it (an 
 abominable business, I thought, working a boy s 
 body as though he were a pair of sugar-tongs']. 
 Sometimes I shucked it in autumn, threw the fodder 
 over to the stock in winter, took the corn to the 
 mill in the spring and took my share of the bread 
 at all seasons. I followed the cradles, and shocked 
 oats and wheat, and helped haul the oats to the 
 barn, and the wheat to the stack. And who can 
 do these things without learning a little about the 
 natural history of fields ? I cut weeds in the wood 
 land pasture (what Kentucky boy of those times but 
 looked bitterly forward from year to year fa the 
 weed-cutting season, and connected weeds with the 
 original curse of the earth regularly adding an 
 original one unknown to Moses). I cut weeds 
 along fences and in stable lots : on the whole I think 
 I knew weeds pretty well. For several springs I 
 helped to cut the willows for tying the vines in 
 my fathers large vineyard. I charred the ends of 
 the stakes over which these vines were to grow, 
 
Introduction xxvii 
 
 hoed the 'vines, thinned out superfluous leaves, 
 gathered the grapes for the press, racked the wine 
 in the cellar and sometimes the wine racked me. 
 I prepared the ground for the sowing of vegetable 
 seeds and cultivated the plants after they came up : 
 surely I was made to master the business of gardening. 
 Sometimes when a tree was felled in the woods, I 
 collected the brush into a pile and afterwards burnt 
 the brush and my breeches. I cut wood for the 
 house at the wood-pile. At the stable I fed the 
 stock : what is there did I not learn about a barn 
 and its kind faithful souls ? 
 
 On the whole, though I was never a hard-worked, 
 hard-pressed boy, there dwelt in the minds of parents 
 of those days the stalwart, sturdy idea that when 
 business stops the devil begins ; and my parents 
 evidently did not wish him to begin. It appeared to 
 me that when they did not keep me busy, they kept 
 me moving : they sent me on errands to the neigh 
 bours presumably an amusement for the young. 
 In this way, as I now know, I began to extend my 
 knowledge of woods and fields and pathways beyond 
 the farm. Furthermore, one of my regular occupa 
 tions (another amusement] was to hunt the turkeys. 
 But long before I started out with the idea of finding 
 the turkeys, the turkeys had started out with the 
 
xxviii A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 idea of not being found by anybody. Apparently 
 they refused grasshoppers until they had reached a 
 place where they had no right to eat them. What 
 wanderings and searchings they originated! And 
 no sooner did they perceive that they were discovered 
 than they began to run cheerfully home zealously 
 pushing each other out of the way as though they 
 had never intended to leave it and were only too 
 glad to return. But they did this every day, and 
 I was not inclined to believe them. It is more to 
 the purpose to record how during these hours of 
 roaming over the summer and autumn land, I received 
 unconscious lessons regarding it through every busy 
 sense. 
 
 And then there were the child's pleasures of wood 
 and stream and field, during which more knowledge 
 was gotten through sheer joy alone the best way : for 
 as you cannot buy joy, neither can you buy the truth 
 that always attends it. Wring out of the heart of 
 a man the last essence of his knowledge of a country, 
 and it will be the scenes of boyhood pleasures. Call 
 on him for his best remembrance of an orchard ; 
 and it will be something like this : an afternoon in 
 late autumn when he had climbed the fence of one, 
 during a long hunt, his tongue parched and his 
 stomach empty. But not an apple was to be found : 
 
Introduction xxix 
 
 /'/ was too late : they had all been knocked or gathered. 
 Ah ! there was a splendid one, caught in the fork 
 of a limb ; or kicking about among the leaves, he 
 found two, one on top of the other, besides a sprout 
 of blackberry in deep grass near the edge of the 
 limbs ; or, in a little hollow of the ground, he spied 
 a third with a bee hole on one side of it ; a wet 
 leaf stuck to the other and a little white mould 
 under it. 
 
 Through work and errand and pleasure, then, I 
 was ever learning. As I grew older other things 
 helped to furrow habits more deeply. The school 
 to which I was sent lay across the country ; and 
 morning and afternoon that country must be traversed. 
 The neighbourhood church lay several miles off in 
 another. When I entered college, through part of 
 each year I walked back and forth several miles, 
 across the country still. So that by the end of that 
 time and as the end of it all, I had learned some 
 little about Nature in a neighbourhood. 
 
 One fact is not to be overlooked: that I should 
 probably have learned less, had the neighbourhood 
 contained more children. Of course this neighbour 
 hood contained its children, otherwise it would not 
 have been one. But there were some families with 
 whom we did not exchange visits. I had whole 
 
xxx A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 groups and flocks of cousins, away off below the 
 horizon^ in two or three directions ; but I saw 
 them too seldom to my sorrow. Then there were 
 much older boys far ahead of me and babies every 
 where behind me no trouble about babies. But at 
 a certain period there seemed to have been a lull, 
 and during that lull I was born. So that strictly 
 I had no adjacent contemporaries. Undoubtedly 
 this had its effect this absence of companionship : 
 it often led me to follow the negroes into the fields, 
 where as one result I watched the hemp through 
 all its changes. Another result, more important by 
 far for me, was the dependence it created upon 
 other things for play, study, interest, activity, 
 curiosity, affection. So that the other inhabitants 
 of my world domestic fowls, dumb brutes, birds, 
 creatures of the woods took measurably from the 
 first the place of the human species. There has 
 never been reason to regret these universal childhood 
 friendships : none of them has ever been broken : 
 they mean more the longer they last. 
 
 In so far as literature is concerned these same 
 experiences taught me, and have always compelled 
 me, to see human life as set in Nature: finding its 
 explanation in soil and sky and season : merely one 
 of the wild growths that spring up on the surface 
 
Introduction xxxi 
 
 of the earth amid ten thousand others. I hold this 
 to be the only true way in which to write of Man 
 in fiction, as it is in science. I further hold it to 
 be true that if a writer is ever to have that know 
 ledge of a country which reappears in his work as 
 local colour, he must have gotten it in his childhood ; 
 that no one ever knows Nature anywhere unless he 
 has known Nature somewhere in his youth ; and that 
 he who has thus known her in one place can, at any 
 time, easily know her in any other. There may be new 
 terms, phrases, groupings, and arrangements ; but 
 it is the same Mother-Speech learned at the knee. 
 
 Behind all that I have written lie the landscapes 
 of a single neighbourhood. They are in " The Blue 
 Grass Region of Kentucky," in " Flute and Violin " ; 
 still more in " A Summer in Arcady" in " A Kentucky 
 Cardinal" and" Aftermath " ; and in u The Reign of 
 Law" The question is often asked, how can a man 
 in a city write of a country far away that he has 
 not seen for years ? But that country is never far 
 away, and the man looks over into it unceasingly. 
 He has but to lift his eyes to see it as clearly as 
 he sees the people in the street. 
 
 Such pictures of outdoor life are for any one a 
 great possession, a divine indestructible wealth ; and 
 it is for the simple sake of trying to spread the love 
 
xxxii A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 of Nature of scattering broadcast such wealth 
 that he has written down these words with a 
 certain childish figure so much in evidence : but 
 this boy was the only one that he had the right to 
 
 use as an illustration. 
 
 J. L. A. 
 
 NEW YORK CITY, 
 lot A October 1900. 
 
A KENTUCKY CARDINAL 
 
LL this New Year's Day of 
 1850 the sun shone cloud 
 less but wrought no 
 thaw. Even the land 
 scapes of frost on the 
 window-panes did not 
 melt a flower, and the 
 
 little trees still keep their silvery boughs arched 
 high above the jewelled avenues. During the 
 afternoon a lean hare limped twice across the 
 lawn, and there was not a creature stirring 
 to chase it. Now the night is bitter cold, 
 with no sounds outside but the cracking of the 
 
4 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 porches as they freeze tighter. Even the north 
 wind seems grown too numb to move. I had 
 determined to convert its coarse, big noise into 
 something sweet as may often be done by a little 
 art with the things of this life and so stretched a 
 horse-hair above the opening between the window 
 sashes ; but the soul of my harp has departed. I 
 hear but the comfortable roar and snap of hickory 
 logs, at long intervals a deeper breath from the dog 
 stretched on his side at my feet, and the crickets 
 under the hearth-stones. They have to thank me 
 for that nook. One chill afternoon I came upon a 
 whole company of them on the western slope of a 
 woodland mound, so lethargic that I thumped them 
 repeatedly before they could so much as get their 
 senses. There was a branch near by, and the smell 
 of mint in the air, so that had they been young 
 Kentuckians one might have had a clue to the 
 situation. With an ear for winter minstrelsy, I 
 brought two home in a handkerchief, and assigned 
 them an elegant suite of apartments under a loose 
 brick. 
 
 But the finest music in the room is that which 
 streams out to the ear of the spirit in many an 
 exquisite strain from the hanging shelf of books 
 on the opposite wall. Every volume there is 
 an instrument which some melodist of the mind 
 created and set vibrating with music, as a flower 
 shakes out its perfume or a star shakes out its 
 
Many an exquisite strain. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 7 
 
 light. Only listen, and they soothe all care, as 
 though the silken soft leaves of poppies had been 
 made vocal and poured into the ear. 
 
 Towards dark, having seen to the comfort of 
 a household of kind, faithful fellow-beings, whom 
 man in his vanity calls the lower animals, I went 
 last to walk under the cedars in the front yard, 
 listening to that music which is at once so cheery 
 and so sad the low chirping of birds at dark 
 winter twilights as they gather in from the frozen 
 fields, from snow-buried shrubbery and hedge 
 rows, and settle down for the night in the depths 
 of the evergreens, the only refuge from their 
 enemies and shelter from the blast. But this 
 evening they made no ado about their home 
 coming. To-day perhaps none had ventured 
 forth. I am most uneasy when the red-bird is 
 forced by hunger to leave the covert of his cedars, 
 since he, on the naked or white landscapes of 
 winter, offers the most far-shining and beautiful 
 mark for Death. I stepped across to the tree in 
 which a pair of these birds roost, and shook it, to 
 make sure they were at home, and felt relieved 
 when they fluttered into the next with the quick 
 startled notes they utter when aroused. 
 
 The longer I live here, the better satisfied I am 
 in having pitched my earthly camp-fire, gipsylike, 
 on the edge of a town, keeping it on one side, and 
 the green fields, lanes, and woods on the other. 
 
8 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 Each, in turn, is to me as a magnate to the needle. 
 At times the needle of my nature points towards 
 the country. On that side everything is poetry. 
 I wander over field and forest, and through me 
 runs a glad current of feeling that is like a clear 
 brook across the meadows of May. At others the 
 needle veers round, and I go to town to the 
 massed haunts of the highest animal and cannibal. 
 That way nearly everything is prose. I can feel 
 the prose rising in me as I step along, like hair on 
 the back of a dog, long before any other dogs are 
 in sight. And, indeed, the case is much that of a 
 country dog come to town, so that growls are in 
 order at every corner. The only being in the 
 universe at which I have ever snarled, or with 
 which I have rolled over in the mud and fought 
 like a common cur, is Man. 
 
 Among my neighbours who furnish me much 
 of the plain prose of life, the nearest hitherto has 
 been a bachelor named Jacob Mariner. I called 
 him my raincrow, because the sound of his voice 
 awoke apprehensions of falling weather. A visit 
 from him was an endless drizzle. For Jacob came 
 over to expound his minute symptoms ; and had 
 everything that he gave out on the subject of 
 human ailments been written down, it must have 
 made a volume as large, as solemn, and as incon 
 venient as a family Bible. My other nearest 
 neighbour lives across the road a widow, Mrs. 
 
Apprehensions of falling weather. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 1 1 
 
 Walters. I call Mrs. Walters my mocking-bird, 
 because she reproduces by what is truly a divine 
 arrangement of the throat the voices of the town. 
 
 Raincroiv and mocking-bird. 
 
 When she flutters across to the yellow settee under 
 the grape-vine and balances herself lightly with 
 expectation, I have but to request that she favour 
 me with a little singing, and as soon the air is vocal 
 with every note of the village songsters. After 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
12 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 this, Mrs. Walters usually begins to flutter in a 
 motherly way around the subject of my symptoms. 
 
 Naturally, it has been my wish to bring about 
 between this raincrow and mocking-bird the desire 
 to pair with one another. For, if a man always 
 wanted to tell his symptoms, and a woman always 
 wished to hear about them, surely a marriage com 
 pact on the basis of such a passion ought to open 
 up for them a union of ever-flowing and inde 
 structible felicity. They should associate as per 
 fectly as the compensating metals of a pendulum, 
 of which the one contracts as the other expands. 
 And then I should be a little happier myself. But 
 the perversity of life ! Jacob would never confide 
 in Mrs. Walters. Mrs. Walters would never 
 inquire for Jacob. 
 
 Now poor Jacob is dead, of no complaint 
 apparently, and with so few symptoms that even 
 the doctors did not know what was the matter, and 
 the upshot of this talk is that his place has been 
 sold, and I am to have new neighbours. What a 
 disturbance to a man living on the edge of a quiet 
 town ! 
 
 Tidings of the calamity came to-day from Mrs. 
 Walters, who flew over and sang sang even on a 
 January afternoon in a manner to rival her most 
 vociferous vernal execution. But the poor creature 
 was so truly distressed that I followed her to the 
 front gate, and we twittered kindly at each other 
 
We twittered kindly at each other. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 1 5 
 
 over the fence, and ruffled our plumage with 
 common disapproval. It is marvellous how a 
 member of her sex will conceive dislike of people 
 that she has never seen ; but birds are sensible of 
 heat or cold long before either arrives, and it may 
 be that this mocking-bird feels something wrong 
 at the quill end of her feathers. 
 
/\ PACK OF BLUE DOGS LET 
 
 II 
 
 RS. WALTERS this morn 
 ing with more news 
 touching our incoming 
 neighbours. Whenever 
 I have faced towards 
 this aggregation of un 
 welcome individuals, I 
 have beheld it moving 
 
 towards me as a thick gray mist, shutting out 
 nature beyond. Perhaps they are approaching 
 this part of the earth like a comet that carries its 
 tail before it, and I am already enveloped in a 
 disturbing, befogging nebulosity. 
 
 There is still no getting the truth, but it appears 
 that they are a family of consequence in their way 
 which, of course, may be a very poor way. 
 Mrs. Margaret Cobb, mother, lately bereaved of 
 her husband, Joseph Cobb, who fell among the 
 Kentucky boys at the battle of Buena Vista. A 
 
Touches her guitar 'with maidenly solicitude. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 19 
 
 son, Joseph Cobb, now cadet at West Point, with 
 a desire to die like his father, but destined to die 
 who knows ? in a war that may break out in this 
 country about the negroes. Then there is a 
 daughter, Miss Georgiana Cobb, who embroiders 
 blue-and-pink-worsted dogs on black foot-cushions, 
 makes far-off crayon trees that look like sheep in 
 the act of variously getting up and lying down on 
 a hill-side, and, when the dew is falling and the 
 moon is the shape of the human lips, touches her 
 guitar with maidenly solicitude. Lastly, a younger 
 daughter, who is in the half-fledged state of be 
 coming educated. 
 
 While not reconciled, I am resigned. The 
 young man when at home may wish to practise 
 the deadly vocation of an American soldier of the 
 period over the garden fence at my birds, in which 
 case he and I could readily fight a duel, and help 
 maintain an honoured custom of the commonwealth. 
 The older daughter will sooner or later turn loose 
 on my heels one of her pack of blue dogs. If this 
 should befall me in the spring, and I survive the 
 dog, I could retort with a dish of strawberries 
 and a copy of Lalla Rookh ; if in the fall, with 
 a basket of grapes and Thomson's Seasons, after 
 which there would be no further exchange of 
 hostilities. The younger daughter, being a school 
 girl, will occasionally have to be subdued with 
 green apples and salt. The mother could easily 
 
2O A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 give trouble ; or she might be one of those few 
 women to know whom is to know the best that 
 there is in all this faulty world. 
 
 The middle of February. The depths of winter 
 reached. Thoughtful, thoughtless words the 
 depths of winter. Everything gone inward and 
 downward from surface and summit, Nature at 
 low tide. In its time will come the height of 
 summer, when the tides of life will rise to the tree- 
 tops, or be dashed as silvery insect spray all but to 
 the clouds. So bleak a season touches my concern 
 for birds, which never seem quite at home in this 
 world ; and the winter has been most lean and 
 hungry for them. Many snows have fallen 
 snows that are as raw cotton spread over their 
 breakfast-table, and cutting off connection between 
 them and its bounties. Next summer I must let 
 the weeds grow up in my garden, so that they may 
 have a better chance for seeds above the stingy 
 level of the universal white. Of late I have opened 
 a pawnbroker's shop for my hard-pressed brethren 
 in feathers, lending at a fearful rate of interest ; 
 for every borrowing Lazarus will have to pay me 
 back in due time by monthly instalments of singing. 
 I shall have mine own again with usury. But were 
 a man never so usurious, would he not lend a 
 winter seed for a summer song ? Would he refuse 
 to invest his stale crumbs in an orchestra of divine 
 instruments and a choir of heavenly voices ? And 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 2 1 
 
 to-day, also, I ordered from a nursery-man more 
 trees of holly, juniper, and fir, since the storm- 
 beaten cedars will have to come down. For in 
 Kentucky, when the forest is naked, and every shrub 
 and hedge-row bare, what would become of our 
 birds in the universal rigour and exposure of the 
 world if there were no evergreens Nature's 
 hostelries for the homeless ones ? Living in the 
 depths of these, they can keep snow, ice, and wind 
 at bay ; prying eyes cannot watch them, nor 
 enemies so well draw near ; cones or seed or 
 berries are their store ; and in those untrodden 
 chambers each can have the sacred company of his 
 mate. But wintering here has terrible risks which 
 few run. Scarcely in autumn have the leaves 
 begun to drop from their high perches silently 
 downward when the birds begin to drop away from 
 the bare boughs silently southward. Lo ! some 
 morning the leaves are on the ground, and the 
 birds have vanished. The species that remain, or 
 that come to us then, wear the hues of the season, 
 and melt into the tone of Nature's background- 
 blues, grays, browns, with touches of white on tail 
 and breast and wing for coming flecks of snow. 
 
 Save only him proud, solitary stranger in our 
 unfriendly land the fiery grosbeak. Nature in 
 Kentucky has no wintry harmonies for him. He 
 could find these only among the tufts of the 
 October sumac, or in the gum-tree when it stands 
 
22 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 a pillar of red twilight fire in the dark November 
 woods, or in the far depths of the crimson sunset 
 skies, where, indeed, he seems to have been nested, 
 and whence to have come as a messenger of beauty, 
 bearing on his wings the light of his diviner home. 
 With almost everything earthly that he touches 
 this high herald of the trees is in contrast. Among 
 his kind he is without a peer. Even when the 
 whole company of summer voyagers have sailed 
 back to Kentucky, singing and laughing and kissing 
 one another under the enormous green umbrella 
 of Nature's leaves, he still is beyond them all in 
 loveliness. But when they have been wafted away 
 again to brighter skies and to soft islands over the 
 sea, and he is left alone on the edge of that 
 Northern world which he has dared invade and 
 inhabit, it is then, amid black clouds and drifting 
 snows, that the gorgeous cardinal stands forth in 
 the ideal picture of his destiny. For it is then that 
 his beauty is most conspicuous, and that Death, 
 lover of the peerless, strikes at him from afar. So 
 that he retires to the twilight solitude of his wild 
 fortress. Let him even show his noble head and 
 breast at a slit in its green window-shades, and a 
 ray flashes from it to the eye of a cat ; let him, as 
 spring comes on, burst out in desperation and 
 mount to the tree-tops which he loves, and his 
 gleaming red coat betrays him to the poised hawk 
 as to a distant sharpshooter ; in the barn near by 
 
A distant sharpshooter, 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 25 
 
 an owl is waiting to do his night marketing at 
 various tender-meat stalls ; and, above all, the eye 
 and heart of man are his diurnal and nocturnal foe. 
 What wonder if he is so shy, so rare, so secluded, 
 this flame-coloured prisoner in dark-green chambers, 
 who has only to be seen or heard and Death ad 
 justs an arrow ! 
 
 No vast Southern swamps or forest of pine here 
 into which he may plunge. If he shuns man in 
 Kentucky, he must haunt the long lonely river 
 valleys where the wild cedars grow. If he 
 comes into this immediate swarming pastoral 
 region, where the people, with ancestral love of 
 privacy, and not from any kindly thought of him, 
 plant evergreens around their country homes, he 
 must live under the very guns and amid the pit 
 falls of the enemy. Surely, could the first male of 
 the species have foreseen how, through the genera 
 tions of his race to come, both their beauty and 
 their song, which were meant to announce them to 
 Love, would also announce them to Death, he 
 must have blanched snow-white with despair and 
 turned as mute as stone. Is it this flight from the 
 inescapable just behind that makes the singing of 
 the red-bird thoughtful and plaintive, and, indeed, 
 nearly all the wild sounds of Nature so like the 
 outcry of the doomsd ? He will sit for a long 
 time silent and motionless in the heart of a cedar, 
 as if absorbed in the tragic memories of his race. 
 
26 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 Then, softly, wearily, he will call cut to you and 
 to the whole world : Peace . . Peace . . Peace . . 
 Peace . . Peace ! the most melodious sigh that 
 ever issued from the clefts of a dungeon. 
 
 For colour and form, brilliant singing, his very 
 enemies, and the bold nature he has never lost, I 
 have long been most interested in this bird. 
 Every year several pairs make their appearance 
 about my place. This winter especially I have been 
 feeding a pair ; and there should be finer music in 
 the spring, and a lustier brood in summer. 
 
III 
 
 ARCH has gone like its 
 winds. The other night 
 as I lay awake with that 
 yearning which often 
 beats within, there fell 
 from the upper air the 
 notes of the wild gander 
 as he wedged his way on 
 ward by faith, not by sight, towards his distant bourn. 
 I rose and, throwing open the shutters, strained eyes 
 towards the unseen and unseeing explorer, startled, 
 as a half-asleep soldier might be startled by the 
 faint bugle-call of his commander, blown to him 
 
28 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 from the clouds. What far-off lands, streaked 
 with mortal dawn, does he believe in ? In what 
 soft sylvan waters will he bury his tired breast ? 
 Always when I hear his voice, often when not, I 
 too desire to be up and gone out of these earthly 
 marches where hunts the dark Fowler, gone to 
 some vast, pure, open sea, where, one by one, my 
 scattered kind, those whom I love and those who 
 love me, will arrive in safety, there to be together. 
 March is a month when the needle of my nature 
 dips towards the country. I am away, greeting 
 everything as it wakes out of winter sleep, stretches 
 arms upward and legs downward, and drinks 
 goblet after goblet of young sunshine. I must 
 find the dark green snowdrop, and sometimes help 
 to remove from her head, as she lifts it slowly 
 from her Couch, the frosted nightcap, which the 
 old Nurse would still insist that she should wear. 
 The pale green tips of daffodils are a thing of beauty. 
 There is the sun-struck brook of the field, under 
 neath the thin ice of which drops form and fall, 
 form and fall, like big round silvery eyes that grow 
 bigger and brighter with astonishment that you 
 should laugh at them as they vanish. But most I 
 love to see Nature do her spring house-cleaning in 
 Kentucky, with the rain -clouds for her water- 
 buckets and the winds for her brooms. What an 
 amount of drenching and sweeping she can do in a 
 day ! How she dashes pailful and pailful into 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 29 
 
 every corner, till the whole earth is as clean as a 
 new floor ! Another day she attacks the piles of 
 dead leaves, where they have lain since last October, 
 and scatters them in a trice, so that every cranny 
 may be sunned and aired. Or, grasping her long 
 brooms by the handles, she will go into the woods 
 and beat the icicles off the big trees as a housewife 
 would brush down cobwebs ; so that the released 
 limbs straighten up like a man who has gotten out 
 of debt, and almost say to you, joyfully, " Now, 
 then, we are all right again ! " This done, she 
 begins to hang up soft new curtains at the forest 
 windows, and to spread over her floor a new 
 carpet of an emerald loveliness such as no mortal 
 looms could ever have woven. And then, at last, 
 she sends out invitations through the South, and 
 even to some tropical lands, for the birds to come 
 and spend the summer in Kentucky. The invita 
 tions are sent out in March, and accepted in April 
 and May, and by June her house is full of visitors. 
 Not the eyes alone love Nature in March. 
 Every other sense hies abroad. My tongue hunts 
 for the last morsel of wet snow on the northern 
 root of some aged oak. As one goes early to a 
 concert-hall with a passion even for the preliminary 
 tuning of the musicians, so my ear sits alone in the 
 vast amphitheatre of Nature and waits for the 
 earliest warble of the blue-bird, which seems to 
 start up somewhere behind the heavenly curtains. 
 
30 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 And the scent of spring, is it not the first lyric of 
 the nose that despised poet of the senses ? 
 
 But this year I have hardly glanced at the small 
 choice edition of Nature's spring verses. This by 
 reason of the on-coming Cobbs, at the mere 
 mention of whom I feel as though I were plunged 
 up to my eyes in a vat of the prosaic. Some days 
 ago workmen went into the house and all but 
 scoured the very memory of Jacob off the face of 
 the earth. Then there has been need to quiet Mrs. 
 Walters. 
 
 Mrs. Walters does not get into our best 
 society ; so that the town is to her like a pond to 
 a crane : she wades round it, going in as far as she 
 can, and snatches up such small fry as come shore 
 ward from the middle. In this way lately I have 
 gotten hints of what is stirring in the vasty deeps 
 of village opinion. 
 
 Mrs. Cobb is charged, among other dreadful 
 things, with having ordered of the town manu 
 facturer a carnage that is to be as fine as President 
 Taylor's and with marching into church preceded 
 by a servant, who bears her prayer-book on a 
 velvet cushion. What if she rode in Cinderella's 
 coach, or had her prayer-book carried before her 
 on the back of a Green River turtle ? But to her 
 sex she promises to be an invidious Christian. I 
 am rather disturbed by the gossip regarding the 
 elder daughter. But this is so conflicting that 
 
A false impression of Mrs. Cobb. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 33 
 
 one impression is made only to be effaced by 
 another. 
 
 A week ago their agent wanted to buy my 
 place. I was so outraged that I got down my 
 map of Kentucky to see where these peculiar 
 beings originate. They come from a little town 
 in the south-western corner of the State, on the 
 Ohio River, named Henderson named from that 
 Richard Henderson who in the year 1775 bought 
 about half of Kentucky from the Cherokees, and 
 afterwards, as president of his purchase, addressed 
 the first legislative assembly ever held in the West, 
 seated under a big elm tree outside the walls of 
 Boonsborough fort. These people must be his 
 heirs, or they would never have tried to purchase 
 my few Sabine acres. It is no surprise to discover 
 that they are from the Green River country. 
 They must bathe often in that stream. I suppose 
 they wanted my front yard to sow it in penny 
 royal, the characteristic growth of those districts. 
 They surely distil it and use it as a perfume on 
 their handkerchiefs. It was perhaps from the 
 founder of this family that Thomas Jefferson got 
 authority for his statement that the Ohio is the 
 most beautiful river in the world unless, indeed, 
 the President formed that notion of the Ohio 
 upon lifting his eyes to it from the contempla 
 tion of Green River. Henderson ! Green River 
 region ! To this town and to the blue -grass 
 
34 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 country as Boeotia to Attica in the days of Pericles. 
 Hereafter I shall call these people my Green River 
 Boeotians. 
 
 A few days later their agent again, a little frigid, 
 very urgent this time to buy me out on my own 
 terms, any terms. But what was back of all this, 
 I inquired. I did not know these people, had 
 never done them a favour. Why, then, such 
 determination to have me removed ? Why such 
 bitterness, vindictiveness, ungovernable passion ? 
 
 That was the point, he replied. This family 
 had never wronged me. I had never even seen 
 them. Yet they had heard of nothing but my 
 intense dislike of them and opposition to their 
 becoming my neighbours. They could not forgo 
 their plans, but they were quite willing to give me 
 the chance of leaving their vicinity, on whatever I 
 might regard the most advantageous terms. 
 
 Oh, my mocking-bird, my mocking-bird! 
 When you have been sitting on other front 
 porches, have you, by the divine law of your 
 being, been reproducing your notes as though 
 they were mine, and even pouring forth the 
 little twitter that was meant for your private 
 ear ? 
 
 As March goes out, two things more and more 
 I hear the cardinal has begun to mount to the 
 bare tops of the locust-trees and scatter his notes 
 downward, and over the way the workmen whistle 
 
Got d<nvn my map of Kentucky. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 37 
 
 and sing. The bird is too shy to sit in any tree 
 on that side of the yard. But his eye and ear are 
 studying them curiously. Sometimes I even fancy 
 that he sings to them with a plaintive sort of joy, 
 as though he were saying, ' Welcome go away ! ' 
 
IV 
 
 HE Cobbs will be the death of 
 me before they get here. The 
 report spread that they and I 
 had already had a tremendous 
 quarrel, and that, rather than 
 live beside them, I had sold 
 them my place. This set 
 flowing towards me for days a 
 stream of people, like a line of ants passing to and 
 from the scene of a terrific false alarm. I had 
 nothing to do but sit perfectly still and let each ant, 
 as it ran up, touch me with its antennas, get the 
 counter-sign, and turn back to the village ant-hill. 
 Not all, however. Some remained to hear me abuse 
 the Cobbs ; or, counting on my support, fell to 
 abusing the Cobbs themselves. When I made not 
 a word of reply, except to assure them that I really 
 had not quarrelled with the Cobbs, had nothing 
 
Certain ladies ivho bow siveetly to me. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 41 
 
 against the Cobbs, and was immensely delighted 
 that the Cobbs were coming, they went away 
 amazingly cool and indignant. But for days I 
 continued to hear such things attributed to me 
 that, had that young West -Pointer been in the 
 neighbourhood, and known how to shoot, he must 
 infallibly have blown my head off me, as any 
 Kentucky gentleman would. 
 
 Others of my visitors, having heard that I was 
 not to sell my place, were so glad of it that they 
 walked around my garden and inquired about my 
 health and the prospect for fruit. For the season 
 has come when the highest animal begins to pay 
 me some attention. During the winter, having 
 little to contribute to the community, I drop from 
 communal notice. But there are certain ladies 
 who bow sweetly to me when my roses and honey 
 suckles burst into bloom ; a fat old cavalier of the 
 South begins to shake hands with me when my 
 asparagus bed begins to send up its tender stalks ; 
 I am in high favour with two or three young 
 ladies at the season of lilies and sweet-pea ; there 
 is one old soul who especially loves rhubarb pies, 
 which she makes to look like little latticed porches 
 in front of little green skies, and it is she who 
 remembers me and my row of pie-plant ; and still 
 another, who knows better than cat -birds when 
 currants are ripe. Above all, there is a preacher, 
 who thinks my sins are as scarlet so long as my 
 
42 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 strawberries are, and plants himself in my bed at 
 that time to reason with me of Judgment to 
 come ; and a doctor, who gets despondent about my 
 constitution in pear-time after which my health 
 seems to return, but never my pears. 
 
 So that, on the whole, from May till October I 
 am the bright side of the moon, and the telescopes 
 of the town are busy observing my phenomena ; 
 after which it is as though I had rolled over on 
 my dark side, there to lie forgotten till once more 
 the sun entered the proper side of the zodiac. 
 But let me except always the few steadily luminous 
 spirits I know, with whom is no variableness, 
 neither shadow of turning. If any one wishes 
 to become famous in a community, let him buy a 
 small farm on the edge of it and cultivate fruits, 
 berries, and flowers, which he freely gives away or 
 lets be freely taken. 
 
 All this has taken freely of my swift April days. 
 Besides, I have made me a new side-porch, made 
 it myself, for I like to hammer and drive things 
 home, and because the rose on the old one had 
 rotted it from post to shingle. And then, when I 
 had tacked the rose in place again, the little old 
 window opening above it made that side of my 
 house look like a boy in his Saturday hat and 
 Sunday breeches. So in went a large new window ; 
 and now these changes have mysteriously offended 
 Mrs. Walters, who says the town is laughing at 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 43 
 
 me for trying to outdo the Cobbs. The highest 
 animal is the only one who is divinely gifted with 
 such noble discernment. But I am not sorry to 
 have my place look its best. When they see it, 
 they will perhaps understand why I was not to be 
 driven out by a golden cracker on their family 
 whip. They could not have bought my little 
 woodland pasture, where for a generation has 
 been picnic and muster and Fourth-of-July ground, 
 and where the brave fellows met to volunteer for 
 the Mexican war. They could not have bought 
 even the heap of brush behind my wood-pile, where 
 the brown thrashers build. 
 
N MAY I am of the earth, earthy. 
 The soul loses its wild white 
 pinions ; the heart puts forth its 
 short, powerful wings, heavy 
 with heat and colour, that flutter, 
 but do not lift it off the ground. 
 The month comes and goes, and 
 not once do I think of raising 
 my eyes to the stars. The very 
 sunbeams fall on the body as a 
 warm golden net, and keep 
 thought and feeling from escape. Nature uses 
 beauty now not to uplift, but to entice. I find 
 her intent upon the one general business of seeing 
 that no type of her creatures gets left out of the 
 generations. Studied in my yard full of birds, 
 as with a condensing glass of the world, she can 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 45 
 
 be seen enacting among them the dramas of 
 history. Yesterday, in the secret recess of a 
 walnut, I saw the beginning of the Trojan war. 
 Last week I witnessed the battle of Actium fought 
 out in mid-air. And down among my hedges 
 indeed, openly in my very barn-yard there is a 
 perfectly scandalous Salt Lake City. 
 
 And while I am watching the birds, they are 
 watching me. Not a little fop among them, 
 having proposed and been accepted, but perches 
 on a limb, and has the air of putting his hands 
 mannishly under his coat-tails and crying out at 
 me, t Hello ! Adam, what were you made for ? ' 
 c You attend to your business, and I'll attend to 
 mine,' I answer. ' You have one May ; I have 
 twenty - five !' He didn't wait to hear. He 
 caught sight of a pair of clear brown eyes peeping 
 at him out of a near tuft of leaves, and sprang 
 thither with open arms and the sound of a kiss. 
 
 But if I have twenty-five Mays remaining, are 
 not some Mays gone ? Ah, well ! Better a single 
 May with the right mate, than the full number 
 with the wrong. And where is she the right 
 one ? If she ever comes near my yard and answers 
 my whistle, I'll know it ; and then I'll teach these 
 popinjays in blue coats and white pantaloons what 
 Adam was made for. 
 
 But the wrong one there's the terror ! Only 
 think of so composite a phenomenon as Mrs. 
 
46 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 Walters, for instance, adorned with limp nightcap 
 and stiff curl-papers, like garnishes around a leg 
 of roast mutton, waking up beside me at four 
 o'clock in the morning as some gray-headed love 
 bird of Madagascar, and beginning to chirp and 
 trill in an ecstasy ! 
 
 The new neighbours have come mother, 
 younger daughter, and servants. The son is at 
 West Point ; and the other daughter lingers a few 
 days, unable, no doubt, to tear herself away from 
 her beloved pennyroyal and dearest Green River. 
 They are quiet ; have borrowed nothing from any 
 one in the neighbourhood ; have well-dressed, well- 
 trained servants ; and one begins to be a little 
 impressed. The curtains they have put up at the 
 windows suggest that the whole nest is being lined 
 with soft, cool, spotless loveliness, which is very 
 restful and beguiling. 
 
 No one has called yet, since they are not at 
 home till June ; but Mrs. Walters has done some 
 tall wading lately, and declares that people do not 
 know what to think. They will know when the 
 elder daughter arrives ; for it is the worst member 
 of the family that settles what the world shall 
 think of the others. 
 
 If only she were not the worst ! If only as I 
 sat here beside my large new window, around 
 which the old rose-bush has been trained and now 
 is blooming, I could look across to her window 
 
The neiu neighbours have come. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 49 
 
 where the white curtains hang, and feel that behind 
 them sat, shy and gentle, the wood-pigeon for 
 whom through Mays gone by I have been vaguely 
 waiting ! 
 
 And yet I do not believe that I could live a 
 single year with only the sound of cooing in the 
 house. A wood-pigeon would be the death of me. 
 
VI 
 
 HIS morning, the 3rd of 
 June, the Undine from 
 Green River rose above the 
 waves. 
 
 The strawberry bed is 
 almost under their windows. 
 I had gone out to pick the 
 first dish of the season for 
 breakfast ; for while I do 
 not care to eat except to 
 
 live, I never miss an opportunity of living upon 
 
 strawberries. 
 
 I was stooping down and bending the wet leaves 
 
 over, so as not to miss any, when a voice at the 
 
 window above said, timidly and playfully : 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 51 
 
 * Are you the gardener ? ' 
 
 I picked on, turning as red as the berries. 
 Then the voice said again : 
 
 ' Old man, are you the gardener ? ' 
 
 ' Old man, are you the gardener ? ' 
 
 Of course a person looking down carelessly on 
 the stooping figure of any man, and seeing nothing 
 but a faded straw hat, and arms and feet and 
 
52 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 ankles bent together, might easily think him de 
 crepit with age. Some things touch off my 
 temper. But I answered, humbly : 
 
 4 1 am the gardener, madam.' 
 
 ' How much do you ask for your strawberries ? ' 
 
 * The gentleman who owns this place does not 
 sell his strawberries. He gives them away, if he 
 likes people. How much do you ask for your 
 strawberries ? ' 
 
 * What a nice old gentleman ! Is he having 
 those picked to give away ? ' 
 
 * He is having these picked for his breakfast/ 
 'Don't you think he'd like you to give me 
 
 those, and pick him some more ? ' 
 ' I fear not, madam.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless, you might. He'd never know/ 
 ' 1 think he'd find it out.' 
 ' You are not afraid of him, are you ? ' 
 
 * I am when he gets mad.' 
 
 * Does he treat you badly ? ' 
 
 ' If he does, I always forgive him.' 
 
 * He doesn't seem to provide you with very 
 many clothes.' 
 
 I picked on. 
 
 * But you seem nicely fed.' 
 I picked on. 
 
 ' What is his name, old man ? Don't you like 
 to talk ? ' 
 
 * Adam Moss.' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 53 
 
 4 Such a green, cool, soft name ! It is like his 
 house and yard and garden. What does he do ? ' 
 
 ' Whatever he pleases.' 
 
 ' Yon must not be impertinent to me, or I'll 
 tell him. What does he like ? ' 
 
 c Birds red-birds. What do you like ? ' 
 
 ' Red -birds ! How does he catch them ? 
 Throw salt on their tails ? ' 
 
 * He is a lover of Nature, madam, and parti 
 cularly of birds/ 
 
 ' What does he know about birds ? Doesn't he 
 care for people ? ' 
 
 1 He doesn't think many worth caring for.' 
 
 * Indeed ! And he is perfect, then, is he ? ' 
 
 ' He thinks he is nearly as bad as any ; but 
 that doesn't make the rest any better.' 
 
 * Poor old gentleman ! He must have the 
 blues dreadfully. What does he do with his birds ? 
 Eat his robins, and stuff his cats, and sell his red- 
 birds in cages ? ' 
 
 ' He considers it part of his mission in life to 
 keep them from being eaten or stuffed or caged.' 
 
 4 And you say he is nearly a hundred ? ' 
 
 ' He is something over thirty years of age, 
 madam.' 
 
 ' Thirty ? Surely we heard he was very old. 
 And does he live in that beautiful little old house 
 all by himself? ' 
 
 ' / live with him ! ' 
 
54 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 1 You / Ha ! ha ! ha ! And what is your 
 name, you dear good old man ? ' 
 
 ' Adam/ 
 
 ' Two Adams living in the same house ! Are 
 you the old Adam ? I have heard so much of him.' 
 
 At this I rose, pushed back my hat, and looked 
 up at her. 
 
 '/am Adam Moss,' I said, with distant polite 
 ness. c You can have these strawberries for your 
 breakfast if you want them/ 
 
 There was a low quick ' Oh ! ' and she was 
 gone, and the curtains closed over her face. It 
 was rude ; but neither ought she to have called 
 me the old Adam. I have been thinking of one 
 thing : why should she speak slightingly of my 
 knowledge of birds ? What does she know about 
 them ? I should like to inquire. 
 
 Late this afternoon, I dressed up in my high 
 gray wool hat, my fine long-tailed blue cloth coat 
 with brass buttons, my pink waistcoat, frilled 
 shirt, white cravat, and yellow nankeen trousers, 
 and walked slowly several times around my straw 
 berry bed. Did not see any more ripe strawberries. 
 
 Within the last ten days I have called twice 
 upon the Cobbs, urged no doubt by an extravagant 
 readiness to find them all that I feared they were 
 not. How exquisite in life is the art of not seeing 
 many things, and of forgetting many that have 
 
1 dressed up. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 57 
 
 been seen ! They received me as though nothing 
 unpleasant had happened. Nor did the elder 
 daughter betray that we had met. She has not 
 forgotten, for more than once I surprised a light 
 in her eyes as though she were laughing. She has 
 not, it is certain, told even her mother and sister. 
 Somehow this fact invests her character with a 
 charm as of subterranean roominess and secrecy. 
 Women who tell everything are like finger-bowls 
 of clear water. 
 
 But it is Sylvia that pleases me. She must be 
 about seventeen ; and so demure and confiding 
 that I was ready to take her by the hand, lead her 
 to the garden-gate, and say : Dear child, every 
 thing in here butterflies, flowers, fruit, honey, 
 everything is yours ; come and go and gather as 
 you like. 
 
 Yesterday morning I sent them a large dish of 
 strawberries, with a note asking whether they 
 would walk during the day over to my woodland 
 pasture, where the soldiers had a barbecue before 
 setting out for the Mexican war. The mother 
 and Sylvia accepted. Our walk was a little over 
 shadowed by their loss ; and as I thoughtlessly 
 described the gaiety of that scene the splendid 
 young fellows dancing in their bright uniforms, 
 and now and then pausing to wipe their foreheads, 
 the speeches, the cheering, the dinner under the 
 trees, and, a few days later, the tear-dimmed eyes, 
 
58 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 the hand-wringing and embracing, and at last the 
 marching proudly away, each with a Bible in his 
 pocket, and many never, never to return I was 
 sorry that I had not foreseen the sacred chord I 
 was touching. But it made good friends of us 
 more quickly, and they were well-bred, so that we 
 returned to all appearance in gay spirits. The 
 elder daughter came to meet us, and went at once 
 silently to her mother's side, as though she had 
 felt the separation. I wondered whether she had 
 declined to go because of the memory of her 
 father. As we passed my front gate, I asked them 
 to look at my flowers. The mother praised also 
 the cabbages, thus showing an admirably balanced 
 mind; the little Sylvia fell in love with a vine- 
 covered arbour ; the elder daughter appeared to 
 be secretly watching the many birds about the 
 grounds, but when I pointed out several less known 
 species, she lost interest. 
 
 What surprises most is that they are so refined 
 and intelligent. It is greatly to be feared that we 
 Kentuckians in this part of the State are pro 
 foundly ignorant as to the people in other parts. 
 I told Mrs. Walters this, and she, seeing that I 
 am beginning to like them, is beginning to like 
 them herself. Dear Mrs. Walters ! Her few 
 ideas are like three or four marbles on a level 
 floor : they have no power to move themselves, but 
 roll equally well in any direction you push them. 
 
ivoodland pasture. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 61 
 
 This afternoon I turned a lot of little town 
 boys into my strawberry bed, and now it looks 
 like a field that had been harrowed and rolled. I 
 think they would gladly have pulled up some of 
 
 Little to*wn boys into my strawberry led. 
 
 the plants to see whether there might not be 
 berries growing on the roots. 
 
 It is unwise to do everything that you can for 
 people at once ; for when you can do nothing 
 more, they will say you are no longer like your 
 self, and turn against you. So I have meant to go 
 slowly with the Cobbs in my wish to be neigh- 
 
62 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 hourly, and do not think that they could reason 
 ably be spoiled on one dish of strawberries in 
 three weeks. But the other evening Mrs. Cobb 
 sent over a plate of golden sally-lunn on a silver 
 waiter, covered with a snow-white napkin ; and 
 acting on this provocation, I thought they could 
 be trusted with a basket of cherries. 
 
 So next morning, in order to save the ripening 
 fruit on a rather small tree of choice variety, I 
 thought I should put up a scarecrow, and to this 
 end rummaged a closet for some last winter's old 
 clothes. These I crammed with straw, and I 
 fastened the resulting figure in the crotch of the 
 tree, tying the arms to the adjoining limbs, and 
 giving it the dreadful appearance of shouting, 
 ' Keep out of here, you rascals, or you'll get hurt ! ' 
 And, in truth, it did look so like me that I felt a 
 little uncanny about it myself. 
 
 Returning home late, I went at once to the 
 tree, where I found not a quart of cherries, and 
 the servants told of an astonishing thing : that no 
 sooner had the birds discovered who was standing 
 in the tree, wearing the clothes in which he used 
 to feed them during the winter, than the news 
 spread like wildfire to the effect that he had 
 climbed up there and was calling out, c Here is 
 the best tree, fellows ! Pitch in and help your 
 selves ! ' So that the like of the chattering and 
 fetching away was never seen before. This was 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 63 
 
 the story ; but little negroes love cherries, and it 
 is not incredible that the American birds were 
 assisted in this instance by a large family of fat 
 young African spoon-bills. 
 
 Anxious to save another tree, and afraid to use 
 more of my own clothes, I went over to Mrs. 
 Walters, and got from her an old bonnet and veil, 
 a dress and cape, and a pair of her cast-off yellow 
 gaiters. These garments I strung together and 
 prepared to look lifelike as nearly as a stuffing of 
 hay would meet the inner requirements of the 
 case. I then seated the dread apparition in the 
 fork of a limb, and awaited results. The first 
 thief was an old jay, who flew towards the tree 
 with his head turned to one side to see whether 
 any one was overtaking him. But scarcely had 
 he alighted when he uttered a scream of horror 
 that was sickening to hear, and dropped on the 
 grass beneath, after which he took himself off with 
 a silence and speed that would have done credit to 
 a passenger-pigeon. That tree was rather avoided 
 for some days, or it may have been let alone 
 merely because others were ripening ; so that Mrs. 
 Cobb got her cherries, and I sent Mrs. Walters 
 some also for the excellent loan of her veil and 
 gaiters. 
 
 As the days pass I fall in love with Sylvia, who 
 has been persuaded to turn my arbour into a 
 
64 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 reading-room, and is often to be found there of 
 mornings with one of Sir Walter's novels. Some 
 times I leave her alone, sometimes lie on the 
 bench facing her, while she reads aloud, or, tiring, 
 prattles. Little half-fledged spirit, to whom the 
 yard is the earth and June eternity, but who peeps 
 over the edge of the nest at the chivalry of the 
 ages, and fancies that she knows the world. The 
 other day, as we were talking, she tapped the 
 edge of her Ivanhoe with a slate-pencil for she is 
 also studying the Greatest Common Divisor and 
 said, warningly, ' You must not make epigrams ; 
 for if you succeeded you would be brilliant, and 
 everything brilliant is tiresome/ 
 
 ' Who is your authority for that epigram, Miss 
 Sylvia ? ' I said, laughing. 
 
 4 Don't you suppose that I have any ideas but 
 what I get from books ? ' 
 
 ' You may have all wisdom, but those sayings 
 proceed only from experience.' 
 
 ' 1 have my intuitions ; they are better than 
 experience.' 
 
 ' If you keep on, you will be making epigrams 
 presently, and then I shall find you tiresome, and 
 go away.' 
 
 * You couldn't. I am your guest. How un 
 conventional I am to come over and sit in your 
 arbour? But it is Georgiana's fault.' 
 
 ' Did she tell you to come ? ' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 65 
 
 ' No ; but she didn't keep me from coming. 
 Whenever any one of us does anything improper 
 we always say to each other, u It's Georgiana's 
 fault. She ought not to have taught us to be so 
 simple and unconventional." 
 
 ' And is she the family governess ? ' 
 
 ' She governs the family. There doesn't seem 
 to be any real government, but we all do as she 
 says. You might think at first that Georgiana 
 was the most light-headed member of the family, 
 but she isn't. She's deep. I'm shallow in com 
 parison with her. She calls me sophisticated, and 
 introduces me as the elder Miss Cobb, and says 
 that if I don't stop reading Scott's novels and learn 
 more arithmetic she will put white caps on me, 
 and make me walk to church in carpet slippers 
 and with grandmother's stick.' 
 
 ' But you don't seem to have stopped, Miss 
 Sylvia.' 
 
 ' No ; but I'm stopping. Georgiana always 
 gives us time, but we get right at last. It was 
 two years before she could make my brother go to 
 West Point. He was wild and rough, and wanted 
 to raise tobacco, and float with it down to New 
 Orleans, and have a good time. Then when she 
 had gotten him to go she was afraid he'd come 
 back, and so she persuaded my mother to live here, 
 where there isn't any tobacco, and where I could 
 be sent to school. That took her a year, and now 
 
 F 
 
66 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 she is breaking up my habit of reading nothing but 
 novels. She gets us all down in the end. One 
 day when she and Joe were little children they were 
 out at the wood-pile, and Georgiana was sitting on 
 a log eating a jam biscuit, with her feet on the log 
 in front of her. Joe had a hand-axe, and was 
 chopping at anything till he caught sight of her 
 feet. Then he went to the end of the log, and 
 whistled like a steamboat, and began to hack down 
 in that direction, calling out to her : " Take your 
 toes out of the way, Georgiana. I am coming 
 down the river. The current is up and I can't stop." 
 ".My toes were there first," said Georgiana, and 
 went on eating her biscuit. " Take them out of 
 the way, I tell you," he shouted as he came nearer, 
 " or they'll get cut off." " They were there first," 
 repeated Georgiana, and took another delicious 
 nibble. Joe cut straight along, and went whack I 
 right into her five toes. Georgiana screamed with 
 all her might, but she held her foot on the log, till 
 Joe dropped the hatchet with horror, and caught 
 her in his arms. " Georgiana, I told you to take 
 your toes away," he cried ; " you are such a little 
 fool," and ran with her into the house. But she 
 always had control over him after that.' 
 
 To-day I saw Sylvia enter the arbour, and 
 shortly afterwards I followed with a book. 
 
 'When you stop reading novels and begin to 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 67 
 
 read history, Miss Sylvia, here is the most remark 
 able history of Kentucky that was ever written or 
 ever will be. It is by my father's old teacher of 
 natural history in Transylvania University, Pro 
 fessor Rafinesque, who also had a wonderful 
 botanical garden on this side of the town ; perhaps 
 the first ever seen in this country/ 
 
 * I know all about it,' replied Sylvia, resenting 
 this slight upon her erudition. c Georgiana has my 
 father's copy, and his was presented to him by Mr. 
 Audubon.' 
 
 1 Audubon ! ' 1 said, with a doubt. 
 
 * Never heard of Audubon ? ' cried Sylvia, 
 delighted to show up my ignorance. 
 
 ' Only of the great Audubon, Miss Sylvia ; the 
 great, the very great Audubon.' 
 
 c Well, this was the great, the very great 
 Audubon. He lived in Henderson, and kept a 
 corn-mill. He and my father were friends, and 
 he gave my father some of his early drawings of 
 Kentucky birds. Georgiana has them now, and 
 that is where she gets her love of birds from my 
 father, who got his from the great, the very great 
 Audubon.' 
 
 ' Would Miss Cobb let me see these drawings ? ' 
 I asked eagerly. 
 
 ' She might ; but she prizes them as much as 
 if they were stray leaves out of the only Bible in 
 the world.' 
 
68 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 As Sylvia turned inside out this pocket of her 
 mind, there had dropped out a key to her sister's 
 conduct. Now I understood her slighting attitude 
 towards my knowledge of birds. But I shall feel 
 some interest in Miss Cobb from this time on. I 
 never dreamed that she could bring me fresh news 
 of that rare spirit whom I have so wished to see, 
 and for one week in the woods with whom I would 
 give any year of my life. Are they possibly the 
 Henderson family to whom Audubon entrusted 
 the box of his original drawings during his absence 
 in Philadelphia, and who let a pair of Norway rats 
 rear a family in it, and cut to pieces nearly a 
 thousand inhabitants of the air ? 
 
 There are two more days of June. Since the 
 talk with Sylvia I have called twice more upon the 
 elder Miss Cobb. Upon reflection, it is misleading 
 to refer to this young lady in terms so dry, stiff, 
 and denuded ; and I shall drop into Sylvia's form, 
 and call her simply Georgiana. That looks better 
 Georgiana ! It sounds well, too Georgiana ! 
 
 Georgiana, then, is a rather elusive character. 
 The more I see of her the less I understand her. 
 If your nature draws near hers, it retreats. If you 
 pursue, it flies a little frightened perhaps. If 
 then you keep still and look perfectly safe, she will 
 return, but remain at a fixed distance, like a bird 
 that will stay in your yard, but not enter your 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 69 
 
 house. It is hardly shyness, for she is not shy, but 
 more like some strain of wild nature in her that 
 refuses to be domesticated. One's faith is strained 
 to accept Sylvia's estimate that Georgiana is deep- 
 she is so light, so airy, so playful. Sylvia is a 
 demure little dove that has pulled over itself an 
 owl's skin, and is much prouder of its wicked old 
 feathers than of its innocent heart ; but Georgiana 
 what is she ? Secretly an owl with the buoyancy 
 of a humming-bird ? However, it's nothing to me. 
 She hovers around her mother and Sylvia with a 
 fondness that is rather beautiful. I did not mention 
 the subject of Audubon and her father, for it is 
 never well to let an elder sister know that a 
 younger one has been talking about her. I merely 
 gave her several chances to speak of birds, but she 
 ignored them. As for me and my love of birds, 
 such trifles are beneath her notice I don't like 
 her, and it will not be worth while to call again 
 soon, though it would be pleasant to see those 
 drawings. 
 
 This morning as I was accidentally passing 
 under her window I saw her at it and lifted my 
 hat. She leaned over with her cheek in her palm, 
 and said, smiling : 
 
 1 You mustn't spoil Sylvia ! ' 
 
 ' What is my definite offence in that regard ? ' 
 
 ' Too much arbour, too many flowers, too much 
 fine treatment.' 
 
70 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 * Does fine treatment ever harm anybody ? Is 
 it not bad treatment that spoils people ? ' 
 
 4 Good treatment may never spoil people who 
 are old enough to know its rarity and value. But 
 you say you are a student of nature ; have you not 
 observed that nature never lets the sugar get to 
 things until they are ripe ? Children must be kept 
 tart/ 
 
 4 The next time that Miss Sylvia comes over, 
 then, I am to give her a tremendous scolding and a 
 big basket of green apples/ 
 
 * Or, what is worse, suppose you encourage her 
 to study the Greatest Common Divisor ? I am 
 trying to get her ready for school in the fall.' 
 
 * Is she being educated for a teacher ? ' 
 
 ' You know that Southern ladies never teach/ 
 
 ' Then she will never need the Greatest Common 
 Divisor. I have known many thousands of human 
 beings, and none but teachers ever has the least 
 use for the Greatest Common Divisor/ 
 
 ' But she needs to do things that she dislikes. 
 We all do/ 
 
 I smiled at the memory of a self-willed little 
 bare foot on a log years ago. 
 
 * I shall see that my grape arbour does not 
 further interfere with Miss Sylvia's progress to 
 wards perfection/ 
 
 * Why didn't you wish us to be your neigh 
 bours ? ' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 71 
 
 * I didn't know that you were the right sort of 
 people/ 
 
 * Are we the right sort ? ' 
 
 ' The value of my land has almost been doubled.' 
 
 ' It is a pleasure to know that you approve of 
 
 us on those grounds. Will the value of our land 
 
 rise also, do you think ? And why do you suppose 
 
 we objected to you as a neighbour ? ' 
 
 * I cannot imagine.' 
 
 ' The imagination can be cultivated, you know. 
 Then tell me this : why do Kentuckians in this 
 part of Kentucky think so much of themselves 
 compared with the rest of the world ? ' 
 
 * Perhaps it's because they are Virginians. There 
 may be various reasons/ 
 
 ' Do the people ever tell what the reasons are ? ' 
 
 ' I have never heard one.' 
 
 ' And if we stayed here long enough, and 
 imitated them closely, do you suppose we would 
 get to feel the same way ? ' 
 
 ' I am sure of it.' 
 
 * It must be so pleasant to consider Kentucky 
 the best part of the world, and your part of Ken 
 tucky the best of the State, and your family the 
 best of all the best families in that best part, and 
 yourself the best member of your family. Ought 
 not that to make one perfectly happy ? ' 
 
 4 1 have often observed that it seems to do so.' 
 ' It is delightful to remember that you approve 
 
72 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 of us. And we should feel so glad to be able to 
 return the compliment. Good-bye ! ' 
 
 Any one would have to admit, however, that 
 there is no sharpness in Georgiana's pleasantry. 
 The child-nature in her is so sunny, sportive, so 
 bent on harmless mischief. She still plays with 
 life as a kitten with a ball of yarn. Some day 
 Kitty will fall asleep with the Ball poised in the 
 cup of one foot. Then, waking, when her dream 
 is over, she will find that her plaything has become 
 a rocky, thorny, storm-swept, immeasurable world, 
 and that she, a woman, stands holding out towards 
 it her imploring arms, and asking only for some 
 littlest part in its infinite destinies. 
 
 After the last talk with Georgiana I felt renewed 
 desire to see those Audubon drawings. So yester 
 day morning I sent over to her some things written 
 by a Northern man, whom I call the young Audu 
 bon of the Maine woods. His name is Henry D. 
 Thoreau, and it is, I believe, known only to me 
 down here. Everything that I can find of his is as 
 pure and cold and lonely as a wild cedar of the 
 mountain rocks, standing far above its smokeless 
 valley and hushed white river. She returned them 
 to-day, with word that she would thank me in 
 person, and to-night I went over in a state of rather 
 senseless eagerness. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 73 
 
 Her mother and sister had gone out, and she 
 sat on the dark porch alone. The things of 
 Thoreau's have interested her, and she asked me 
 to tell her all I knew of him, which was little 
 enough. Then of her own accord she began to 
 speak of her father and Audubon of the one with 
 the worship of love, of the other with the worship 
 of greatness. I felt as though I were in a moonlit 
 cathedral ; for her voice, the whole revelation of 
 her nature, made the spot so impressive and so 
 sacred. She scarcely addressed me ; she was com 
 muning with them. Nothing that her father told 
 her regarding Audubon appears to have been for 
 gotten ; and, brought nearer than ever before to 
 that lofty, tireless spirit in its wanderings through 
 the Kentucky forests, I almost forgot her to whom 
 I was listening. But in the midst of it she stopped, 
 and it was again kitten and yarn. I left quite as 
 abruptly. Upon my soul I believe that Georgiana 
 doesn't think me worth talking to seriously. 
 
VII 
 
 ULY has dragged like a log across 
 a wet field. 
 
 There was the Fourth, which 
 is always the grandest occasion 
 of the year with us. Society has 
 - taken up Sylvia and rejected 
 Georgiana ; and so with its great 
 gallantry, and to her boundless 
 delight, Sylvia was invited to sit 
 with a bevy of girls in a large furniture waggon 
 covered with flags and bunting. The girls 
 were to be dressed in white, carry flowers 
 and flags, and sing ' The Star-Spangled Banner ' 
 in the procession, just before the fire-engine. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 75 
 
 I wrote a note to Georgiana, asking whether it 
 would interfere with Sylvia's Greatest Common 
 Divisor if I presented her with a profusion of 
 elegant flowers on that occasion. Georgiana 
 herself had equipped Sylvia with a truly exquisite 
 silken flag on a silver staff; and as Sylvia both 
 sang and waved with all her might, not only to 
 keep up the Green River reputation in such matters, 
 but with a mediaeval determination to attract a 
 young man on the fire-engine behind, she quite 
 eclipsed every other miss in the waggon, and was 
 not even hoarse when persuaded at last to stop. 
 So that several of the representatives of the other 
 States voted afterwards in a special congress that 
 she was loud, and in no way as nice as they had 
 fancied, and that they ought never to recognise her 
 again except in church and at funerals. 
 
 And then the month brought down from West 
 Point the son of the family, who cut off- or cut at 
 Georgiana's toes, I remember. With him a sort 
 of cousin, who lives in New York State ; and after 
 a few days of toploftical strutting around town, 
 and a pusillanimous crack or two over the back- 
 garden fence at my birds, they went away again, to 
 the home of this New York cousin, carrying 
 Georgiana with them to spend the summer. 
 
 Nothing has happened since. Only Sylvia and 
 I have been making hay while the sun shines or 
 does not shine, if one chooses to regard Georgiana's 
 
7 6 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 absence in that cloudy fashion. Sylvia's ordinary 
 armour consists of a slate-pencil for a spear, a 
 slate for a shield, and a volume of Sir Walter for 
 
 Toploftical strutting. 
 
 a bludgeon. Now and then I have found her 
 sitting alone in the arbour with the drooping air 
 of Lucy Ashton beside the fountain ; and she 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 77 
 
 would be better pleased if I met her clandestinely 
 there in cloak and plume with the deadly com 
 plexion of Ravenswood. 
 
 The other day I caught her toiling at some 
 thing, and she admitted being at work on a poem 
 which would be about half as long as the " Lay of 
 the Last Minstrel." She read me the opening 
 lines, after that bland habit of young writers ; and 
 as nearly as I recollect, they began as follows : 
 
 I love to see gardens and arbours and plants ; 
 I love the fine air, but not my fine aunts. 
 
 When not under the spell of mediaeval chivalry 
 she prattles needlessly of Georgiana, early life, and 
 their old home in Henderson. Although I have 
 pointed out to her the gross impropriety of her 
 conduct, she has persisted in reading me some of 
 Georgiana's letters written from the home of that 
 New York cousin, whose mother they are now 
 visiting. I didn't like him particularly. Sylvia 
 relates that he was a favourite of her father's. 
 
 The dull month passes to-day. One thing I 
 have secretly wished to learn : did her brother cut 
 Georgiana's toes entirely off? 
 
VIII 
 
 N AUGUST the pale and 
 delicate poetry of the 
 Kentucky land makes it 
 self felt as silence and 
 repose. Still skies, still 
 woods, still sheets of forest 
 water, still flocks and 
 herds, long lanes wind 
 ing without the sound of a traveller through 
 fields of the universal brooding stillness. The 
 sun no longer blazing, but muffled in a veil of 
 palest blue No more black clouds rumbling and 
 rushing up from the horizon, but a single white 
 one brushing slowly against the zenith like the lost 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 79 
 
 wing of a swan. Far beneath it the silver-breasted 
 hawk, using the cloud as his lordly parasol. The 
 eagerness of spring gone, now all but incredible as 
 having ever existed ; the birds hushed and hiding ; 
 the bee, so nimble once, fallen asleep over his own 
 cider-press in the shadow of the golden apple. 
 From the depths of the woods may come the notes 
 of the cuckoo ; but they strike the air more and 
 more slowly, like the clack, clack, clack of a distant 
 wheel that is being stopped at the close of harvest. 
 The whirring wings of the locust let themselves go 
 in one long wave of sound, passing into silence. 
 All nature is a vast sacred goblet, filling drop by 
 drop to the brim, and not to be shaken. But the 
 stalks of the later flowers begin to be stuffed with 
 hurrying bloom lest they be too late ; and the 
 nighthawk rapidly mounts his stairway of flight 
 higher and higher, higher and higher, as though 
 he would rise above the warm white sea of atmo 
 sphere and breathe in cold ether. 
 
 Always in August my nature will go its own 
 way and seek its own peace. I roam solitary, but 
 never alone, over this rich pastoral land, crossing 
 farm after farm, and keeping as best I can out of 
 sight of the labouring or loitering negroes. For 
 the sight of them ruins every landscape, and I shall 
 never feel myself free till they are gone. What if 
 they sing ? The more is the pity that any human 
 being could be happy enough to sing so long as 
 
8o A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 he was a slave in any thought or fibre of his 
 nature. 
 
 Sometimes it is through the aftermath of fat 
 wheat-fields, where float like myriad little nets of 
 silver gauze the webs of the crafty weavers, and 
 where a whole world of winged small folk flit from 
 tree-top to tree-top of the low weeds. They are 
 all mine these Kentucky wheat-fields. After the 
 owner has taken from them his last sheaf I come 
 in and gather my harvest also one that he did 
 not see, and doubtless would not begrudge me 
 the harvest of beauty. Or I walk beside tufted 
 aromatic hemp-fields, as along the shores of softly 
 foaming emerald seas ; or past the rank and file of 
 fields of Indian-corn, which stand like- armies that 
 had gotten ready to march, but been kept waiting 
 for further orders, until at last the soldiers had 
 grown tired, as the gayest will, of their yellow 
 plumes and green ribbons, and let their big hands 
 fall heavily down at their sides. There the white 
 and the purple morning-glories hang their long 
 festoons and open to the soft midnight winds their 
 elfin trumpets. 
 
 This year as never before I have felt the beauty 
 of the world. And with the new brightness in 
 which every common scene has been apparelled 
 there has stirred within me a need of human com 
 panionship unknown in the past. It is as if 
 Nature had spread out her last loveliness and said, 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 81 
 
 * See ! You have before you now all that you can 
 ever get from me ! It is not enough. Realise 
 
 / see people on account of my grapes and pears. 
 
 this in time. I am your Mother. Love me as a 
 child. But remember ! such love can be only a 
 little part of your life/ 
 
 G 
 
82 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 Therefore I have spent the month restless, on 
 the eve of change, drawn to Nature, driven from 
 her. In September it will be different, for then 
 there are more things to do on my small farm, and 
 I see people on account of my grapes and pears. 
 My malady this August has been an idle mind 
 so idle that a letter from Georgiana seems its main 
 event. This was written from the old home of 
 Audubon on the Hudson, whither they had gone 
 sight-seeing. It must have been to her much like 
 a pilgrimage to a shrine. She wrote informally, 
 telling me about the place and enclosing a sprig of 
 cedar from one of the trees in the yard. Her 
 mind was evidently overflowing on the subject. It 
 was rather pleasant to have the overflow turned 
 my way. I shall plant the cedar where it will stay 
 always green, 
 
 I saw Georgiana once more before her leaving. 
 The sudden appearance of her brother and cousin, 
 and the news that she would return with them for 
 the summer, spurred me up to make another 
 attempt at those Audubon drawings. 
 
 How easy it was to get them ! It is what a man 
 thinks a woman will be willing to do that she seldom 
 does. But she made a confession. When she 
 first found that I was a smallish student of birds, 
 she feared I would not like Audubon, since men 
 so often sneer at those who do in a grand way 
 what they can do only in a poor one. I had 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 83 
 
 another revelation of Georgiana's more serious 
 nature, which is always aroused by the memory of 
 her father. There is something beautiful and 
 steadfast in this girl's soul. In our hemisphere 
 vines climb round from left to right ; if Georgiana 
 loved you she would, if bidden, reverse every law 
 of her nature for you as completely as a vine that 
 you had caused to twine from right to left. 
 
 Sylvia enters school the ist of September, and 
 Georgiana is to be at home then to see to that. 
 How surely she drives this family before her and 
 with as gentle a touch as that of a slow south wind 
 upon the clouds. 
 
 Those poor first drawings of Audubon ! He 
 succeeded ; we study his early failings. The 
 world never studies the failures of those who do 
 not succeed in the end. 
 
 The birds are moulting. If man could only 
 moult also his mind once a year its errors, his 
 heart once a year its useless passions ! How fine 
 we should all look if every August the old plumage 
 of our natures would drop out and be blown away, 
 and fresh quills take the vacant places ! But we 
 have one set of feathers to last us through our 
 three-score years and ten one set of spotless 
 feathers, which we are told to keep spotless through 
 all our lives in a dirty world. If one gets broken, 
 broken it stays ; if one gets blackened, nothing 
 will cleanse it. No doubt we shall all fly home at 
 
84 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 last, like a flock of pigeons that were once turned 
 loose snow-white from the sky, and made to 
 descend and fight one another and fight everything 
 else for a poor living amid soot and mire. If then 
 the hand of the unseen Fancier is stretched forth to 
 draw us in, how can he possibly smite any one of 
 us, or cast us away, because we come back to him 
 black and blue with bruises, and besmudged and 
 bedraggled past recognition ! 
 
IX 
 
 0-DAY, the yth of 
 September, I made a 
 discovery. The pair 
 of red-birds that built 
 in my cedar-trees Jast 
 winter got duly away 
 with the brood. Several 
 times during summer 
 rambles I cast my eye 
 about, but they were 
 
 not to be seen Early this afternoon I struck 
 out across the country towards a sink-hole in 
 a field two miles away, some fifty yards in 
 diameter, very deep, and enclosed by a fence. A 
 series of these circular basins, at regular inter 
 vals apart, runs across the country over there, 
 suggesting the remains of ancient earthworks. The 
 bottom had dropped out of this one, probably 
 
86 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 communicating with the many caves that are 
 characteristic of this blue limestone. 
 
 Within the fence everything is an impenetrable 
 thicket of weeds and vines blackberry, thistle, 
 ironweed, poke weed, elder, golden-rod. As I 
 drew near, I saw two or three birds dive down, 
 with the shy way they have at this season ; and 
 when I came to the edge, everything was quiet. 
 But I threw a stone at a point where the tangle was 
 deep, and there was a great fluttering and scatter 
 ing of the pretenders. And then occurred more 
 than I had looked for. The stone had hardly 
 struck the brush when what looked like a tongue 
 of vermilion flame leaped forth near by, and, darting 
 across, struck itself out of sight in the green vines 
 on the opposite slope. A male and a female 
 cardinal flew up also, balancing themselves on 
 sprays of the blackberry, and uttering excitedly 
 their quick call-notes. I whistled to the male as I 
 had been used, and he recognised me by shooting 
 up his crest, and hopping to nearer twigs with 
 louder inquiry. All at once, as if an idea had 
 urged him, he sprang across to the spot where the 
 first frightened male had disappeared. I could 
 still hear him under the vines, and presently he 
 reappeared and flew up into a locust-tree on the 
 farther edge of the basin, followed by the other. 
 What had taken place or took place then I do not 
 know ; but I wished he might be saying : " My 
 
Welcomed her gaily. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 89 
 
 son, that man over there is the one who was very 
 good to your mother and me last winter, and who 
 owns the tree you were born in. I have warned 
 you, of course, never to trust Man ; but I would 
 advise you, when you have found your sweetheart, 
 to give him a trial, and take her to his cedar-trees.' 
 
 If he said anything like this, it certainly had a 
 terrible effect on the son ; for, having mounted 
 rapidly on the tree-top, he clove the blue with his 
 scarlet wings as though he were flying from death. 
 I lost sight of him over a corn-field. 
 
 One fact pleased me : the father returned to his 
 partner under the briers, for he is not of the lower 
 sort who forget the mother when the children are 
 reared. They hold faithfully together during the 
 ever more silent, ever more shadowy autumn days ; 
 his warming breast is close to hers through frozen 
 winter nights ; and if they both live to see another 
 May she is still all the world to him, and woe to 
 any brilliant vagabond who should warble a wanton 
 love-song under her holy windows. 
 
 Georgiana returned the last of August. The 
 next morning she was at her window, looking 
 across into my yard. I was obliged to pass that 
 way, and welcomed her gaily, expressing my 
 thanks for the letter. 
 
 ' 1 had to come back, you see,' she said, with 
 calm simplicity. I lingered awkwardly, stripping 
 upward the stalks of some weeds. 
 
go A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 ' Very few Kentucky birds are migratory,' I 
 replied at length, with desperate brilliancy and an 
 overwhelming grimace. 
 
 ' I shall go back some time to stay/ she said, 
 and turned away with a parting faintest smile. 
 
 Is that West Point brother giving trouble ? If 
 so, the sooner a war breaks out and he gets killed, 
 the better. One thing is certain : if, for the next 
 month, fruit and flowers will give Georgiana any 
 pleasure, she shall have a good deal of pleasure. 
 She is so changed ! But why need I take on 
 about it ? 
 
 They have been cleaning out a drain under the 
 streets along the Town Fork of Elkhorn, and 
 several people are down with fever. 
 
Knocked reproachfully. 
 
EW-YEAR'S night again, and 
 bitter cold. 
 
 When I forced myself 
 away from my fire before 
 dark, and ran down to the 
 stable to see about feeding 
 and bedding the horses and 
 cows, every beast had its 
 head drawn in towards its shoulders, and looked 
 
94 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 at me with the dismal air of saying, * Who is 
 tempering the wind now ? ' The dogs in the 
 kennel, with their noses between their hind-legs, 
 were shivering under their blankets and straw 
 like a nest of chilled young birds. The fowls 
 on the roost were mere white and blue puffs 
 of feathers. Nature alone has the keeping of 
 her creatures ; why doesn't she make them 
 comfortable ? 
 
 After supper old Jack and Dilsy came in, and 
 standing against the wall with their arms folded, 
 told me more of what happened after I got sick. 
 That was about the middle of September, and it 
 is only two weeks since I became well enough to 
 go in and out through all sorts of weather. 
 
 It was the middle of September then, my 
 servants said, and as within a week after taking 
 the fever I was very ill, a great many people came 
 out to inquire for me. Some of these, walking 
 around the garden, declared it was a pity for such 
 fruit and flowers to be wasted, and so helped 
 themselves freely every time. The old doctor, 
 who always fears for my health at this season, 
 stopped by nearly every day to repeat how he had 
 warned me, and always walked back to his gig in 
 a roundabout way, which required him to pass a 
 favourite tree ; and once he was so indignant to 
 find several other persons gathered there, and 
 mournfully enjoying the last of the fruit as they 
 
Putting a prop under a too-heavily laden limb. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 97 
 
 predicted I would never get well, that he came 
 back to the house with two pears in each duster 
 pocket and one in his mouth and told Jack it 
 was an outrage. The preacher, likewise, who 
 appears in the spring-time, one afternoon knocked 
 reproachfully at the front door and inquired 
 whether I was in a condition to be reasoned with. 
 In his hand he carried a nice little work-basket, 
 which may have been brought along to catch his 
 prayers ; but he took it home piled with grapes. 
 
 And then they told me, also, how many a good 
 and kind soul came with hushed footsteps and low 
 inquiries, turning away sometimes with brightened 
 faces, sometimes with rising tears often people 
 whom I had done no kindness or whom I did not 
 know ; how others whom I had quarrelled with or 
 did not like, forgot the poor puny quarrels and the 
 dislike, and begged to do for me whatever they 
 could ; how friends went softly around the 
 garden, caring for a flower, putting a prop under 
 a too -heavily laden limb, or climbing on step- 
 ladders to tie sacks around the finest bunches of 
 grapes, with the hope that I might be well in time 
 to eat them touching nothing themselves, having 
 no heart to eat ; how dear, dear ones would never 
 leave me day or night ; how a good doctor wore 
 himself out with watching, and a good pastor sent 
 up for me his spotless prayers ; and at last, when I 
 began to mend, how from far and near there 
 
 H 
 
98 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 poured in flowers and jellies and wines, until, had 
 I been the multitude by the Sea of Galilee, there 
 must have been baskets to spare. God bless 
 them ! God bless them all ! And God forgive us 
 all the blindness, the weakness, and the cruelty with 
 which we judge each other when we are in health. 
 
 This and more my beloved old negroes told 
 me a few hours ago, as I sat in deep comfort and 
 bright health again before my blazing hickories ; 
 and one moment we were in laughter and the next 
 in tears as is the strange life we live. This is a 
 gay household now, and Dilsy cannot face me 
 without a fleshy earthquake of laughter that I have 
 become such a high-tempered tiger about punctual 
 meals. 
 
 In particular, my two nearest neighbours were 
 much at odds as to which had better claim to nurse 
 me ; so that one day Mrs. Walters, able to endure 
 it no longer, thrust Mrs. Cobb out of the house 
 by the shoulder-blades, locked the door on her, 
 and then opened the shutters and scolded her out 
 of the window. 
 
 One thing I miss. My servants have never 
 called the name of Georgiana. The omission is 
 unnatural, and must be intentional. Of course I 
 have not asked whether she showed any concern ; 
 but that little spot of silence affects me as the sight 
 of a tree remaining leafless in the woods where 
 everything else is turning green. 
 
T/trust Mrs. Ccbb out of the house. 
 
XI 
 
 O-DAY I was standing at a 
 window, looking out at the 
 aged row of cedars, now 
 laden with snow, and think 
 ing of Horace and Soracte. 
 Suddenly, beneath a jutting 
 pinnacle of white boughs 
 which left under themselves one little spot of 
 
102 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 green, I saw a cardinal hop out and sit full- 
 breasted towards me. The idea flashed through 
 my mind that this might be that shyest, most 
 beautiful fellow whom I had found in September, 
 and whom I tried to make out as the son of my 
 last winter's pensioner. At least he has never lived 
 in my yard before ; for when, to test his shyness, 
 I started to raise the window-sash, at the first noise 
 of it he was gone. My birds are not so afraid of 
 me. I must get on better terms with this stranger. 
 
 Mrs. Walters over for a while afterwards. I 
 told her of my fancy that this bird was one of last 
 summer's brood, and that he appeared a trifle 
 larger than any male I had ever seen. She said of 
 course. Had I not fed the parents all last winter ? 
 When she fed her hens, did they not lay bigger 
 eggs ? Did not bigger eggs contain bigger chicks ? 
 Did not bigger chicks become bigger hens, again ? 
 According to Mrs. Walters, a single winter's 
 feeding of hot corn -meal, scraps of bacon, and 
 pods of red pepper will all but bring about a varia 
 tion of species ; and so if the assumed rate at which 
 I am now going were kept up a hundred years, 
 my cedar-trees might be full of a race of red-birds 
 as large and as fat as geese. 
 
 Standing towards sundown at another window, 
 I saw Georgiana sewing at hers, as I have seen her 
 every day since I got out of bed. Why should 
 she sew so much ? There is a servant also ; and 
 
When she fed her hens. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 105 
 
 they sew, sew, sew, as if eternal sewing were eternal 
 happiness, eternal salvation. The first day she 
 sprang up, letting her work roll off her lap, and 
 waved her handkerchief inside the panes, and 
 smiled with what looked to me like radiant pleasure 
 that I was well again. I was weak and began to 
 tremble, and, going back to the fireside, lay back 
 in my chair with a beating of the heart that was a 
 warning. Since then she has recognised me only 
 by a quiet, kindly smile. Why has no one ever 
 called her name ? I believe Mrs. Walters knows. 
 She comes nowadays as if to tell me something, 
 and goes away with a struggle that she has not told 
 it. But a secret can no more stay in the depths 
 of Mrs. Walters's mind than cork at the bottom 
 of water ; some day I shall see this mystery riding 
 on the surface. 
 
XII 
 
 ES, she knew ; while 
 unconscious I talked 
 of Georgiana, of being 
 in love with her. 
 Mrs. Walters added, 
 sadly, that Georgiana 
 came home in the 
 fall engaged to that 
 New York cousin. 
 Hence the sewing 
 he was to marry her in June. 
 
 I am not in love with her. It is now four 
 weeks since hearing this conventional fiction, and 
 every day I have been perfectly able to repeat : 
 ' I am not in love with Georgiana ! ' There was 
 one question which I put severely to Mrs. Walters : 
 Had she told Georgiana of my foolish talk ? She 
 shook her head violently, and pressed her lips 
 closely together, suggesting how impossible it 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 107 
 
 would be for the smallest monosyllable in the 
 language to escape by that channel ; but she kept 
 her eyes wide open, and the truth issued from 
 them, as smoke in a hollow tree, if stopped in at a 
 lower hole, simply rises and comes out at a higher 
 one. ' You should have shut your eyes also,' I 
 said. ' You have told her every word of it, and 
 the Lord only knows how much more.' 
 
 This February has let loose its whole pack of 
 grizzly sky-hounds. Unbroken severe weather. 
 Health has not returned as rapidly as was pro 
 mised, and I have not ventured outside the yard. 
 But it is a pleasure to chronicle the beginning of 
 an acquaintanceship between his proud eminence 
 the young cardinal and myself. For a long time 
 he would have naught to do with me, fled as I 
 approached, abandoned the evergreens altogether 
 and sat on the naked tree-tops, as much as threaten 
 ing to quit the place altogether if I did not leave 
 him in peace. Surely he is the shyest of his kind, 
 and to my fancy, the most beautiful ; and there 
 fore Nature seems to have stored him with extra 
 caution towards his arch-enemy. 
 
 But in the old human way I have taken advan 
 tage of his necessities. The north wind has been 
 my friend against him. I have called in the aid of 
 sleets and snows, have besieged him in his white 
 castle behind the glittering array of his icicles with 
 threats of starvation. So one day, dropping like a 
 
io8 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 glowing coal down among the other birds, he 
 snatched a desperate hasty meal from the public 
 poor-house table that I had spread under the trees. 
 
 It is the first surrender that decides. Since 
 then some progress has been made in winning his 
 confidence, but the struggle going on in his nature 
 is plain enough still. At times he will rush away 
 from me in utter terror ; at others he lets me draw 
 a little nearer, without moving from a limb ; and 
 now, after a month of persuasion, he begins to 
 discredit the experience which he has inherited 
 from centuries upon centuries of ancestors. In all 
 that I have done I have tried to say to him : 
 ' Don't judge me by mankind in general. With 
 me you are safe. I pledge myself to defend you 
 from enemies, high and low/ 
 
 This has not escaped the notice of Georgiana 
 at the window, and more than once she has let her 
 work drop to watch my patient progress and to 
 bestow upon me a rewarding smile. Is there 
 nearly always sadness in it, or is the sadness in my 
 eyes ? If Georgiana's brother is giving her trouble, 
 I'd like to take a hand-axe to his feet. I suppose 
 I shall never know whether he cut her foot in two. 
 She carries the left one a little peculiarly ; but so 
 many women do that. 
 
 Sometimes, when the day's work is over and 
 the servant is gone, Georgiana comes to the window 
 and looks away towards the sunsets of winter, her 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 109 
 
 hands clasped behind her back, her motionless 
 figure in relief against the darkness within, her face 
 white and still. Being in the shadow of my own 
 room, so that she could not see me, and knowing 
 that I ought not to do it, but unable to resist, I 
 have softly taken up the spy-glass which I use in 
 the study of birds, and have drawn Georgiana's 
 face nearer to me, holding it there till she turns 
 away. I have noticed the traces of pain, and once 
 the tears which she could not keep back and was 
 too proud to shed. Then I have sat before my 
 flickering embers, with I know not what all but 
 ungovernable yearning to be over there in the 
 shadowy room with her, and, whether she would 
 or not, to fold my arms around her, and, drawing 
 her face against mine, whisper, ' What is it, 
 Georgiana ? And why must it be ? 
 
XIII 
 
 HE fountains of the 
 great deep opened. 
 A new heaven, a 
 new earth. Georgi- 
 ana has broken her 
 engagement with 
 her cousin. Mrs. 
 Cobb let it out 
 in the strictest 
 confidence to Mrs. Walters. Mrs. Walters, 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 1 1 1 
 
 with stricter confidence still, has told me 
 only. 
 
 The West-Pointer had been writing for some 
 months in regard to the wild behaviour of his 
 cousin. This grew worse, and the crisis came. 
 Georgiana snapped her thread and put up her 
 needle. He travelled all the way down here to 
 implore. I met him at the gate as he left the 
 house a fine, straight, manly, handsome young 
 fellow, his face pale with pain, and his eyes flashing 
 with anger and bade him a long, affectionate, 
 inward God-speed as he hurried away. It was her 
 father's influence. He had always wished for this 
 union. Ah, the evils that come to the living from 
 the wrongful wishes of the dead ! Georgiana is so 
 happy now, since she has been forced to free her 
 self, that spring in this part of the United States 
 seems to have advanced about half a month. 
 
 'What on earth will she do with all those 
 clothes ? ' inquired Mrs. Walters the other night, 
 eyeing me with curious impressiveness. 
 
 ' Let them be hanged,' I said promptly. 
 
 There is a young scapegrace who passes my 
 house morning and evening with his cows. He 
 has the predatory instincts of that being who loves 
 to call himself the image of his Maker, and more 
 than once has given annoyance, especially last year, 
 when he robbed a damson-tree of a brood of Balti 
 more orioles. This winter and spring his friendly 
 
ii2 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 interest in my birds has increased, and several 
 times I have caught him skulking among the pines. 
 Last night what should I stumble on but a trap, 
 baited and sprung, under the cedar-tree in which 
 the cardinal roosts. I was up before daybreak this 
 morning. Awhile after the waking of the birds 
 here comes my young bird-thief, creeping rapidly 
 to his trap. As he stooped I had him by the 
 collar, and within the next five minutes I must 
 have set up in his nervous system a negative dis 
 position to the caging of red-birds that will descend 
 as a positive tendency to all the generations of his 
 offspring. 
 
 All day this meditated outrage has kept my 
 blood up. Think of this beautiful cardinal beating 
 his heart out against maddening bars, or caged for 
 life in some dark city street, lonely, sick, and 
 silent, bidden to sing joyously of that high world 
 of light and liberty where once he sported ! 
 Think of the exquisite refinement of cruelty in 
 wishing to take him on the eve of May ! 
 
 It is hardly a fancy that something as loyal as 
 friendship has sprung up between this bird and 
 me. I accept his original shyness as a mark of 
 his finer instincts ; but, like the nobler natures, 
 when once he found it possible to give his con 
 fidence, how frankly and fearlessly has it been 
 given. The other day, brilliant, warm, windless, 
 I was tramping across the fields a mile from home, 
 
That 'whipping. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 115 
 
 when I heard him on the summit of a dead 
 sycamore, cleaving the air with stroke after stroke 
 of his long melodious whistle, as with the swing of 
 a silken lash. When I drew near he dropped 
 down from bough to bough till he reached the 
 lowest, a few feet from where I stood, and showed 
 by every movement how glad he was to see me. 
 We really have reached the understanding that the 
 immemorial persecution of his race by mine is 
 ended ; and now more than ever my fondness 
 settles about him, since I have found his happi 
 ness plotted against, and have perhaps saved his 
 very life. It would be easy to trap him. His 
 eye should be made to distrust every well- 
 arranged pile of sticks under which lurks a 
 morsel. 
 
 To-night I called upon Georgiana and sketched 
 the arrested tragedy of the morning. She watched 
 me curiously, and then dashed into a little treatise 
 on the celebrated friendships of man for the lower 
 creatures, in fact and fiction, from camels down to 
 white mice. Her father must have been a re 
 markably learned man. I didn't like this. It 
 made me somehow feel as though I were one of 
 ^Esop's Fables, or were being translated into 
 English as that old school-room horror of Androclus 
 and the Lion. In the bottom of my soul I don't 
 believe that Georgiana cares for birds, or knows 
 the difference between a blackbird and a crow. I 
 
n6 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 am going to send her a little story, ' The Passion 
 of the Desert.' Mrs. Walters is now confident 
 that Georgiana regrets having broken off her 
 engagement. But then Mrs. Walters can be a 
 great fool when she puts her whole mind to it. 
 
XIV 
 
 N April I commence to scratch 
 and dig in my garden. 
 
 To-day as I was raking 
 off my strawberry bed, 
 Georgiana, whom I have 
 not seen since the night 
 when she satirised me, called 
 from the window : 
 
 ' What are you going to plant 
 this year ? ' 
 
 1 Oh, a little of everything/ I answered, under 
 my hat. ' What are you going to plant this year ? ' 
 * Are you going to have many strawberries ? ' 
 ' It's too soon to tell : they haven't bloomed 
 yet. It's too soon to tell when they do bloom. 
 Sometimes strawberries are like women : Whole 
 beds full of showy blossoms ; but when the time 
 comes to be ripe and luscious, you can't find them.' 
 'Indeed. 1 
 
1 1 8 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 ' 'Tis true, 'tis pity.' 
 
 ' I had always supposed that to a Southern 
 gentleman woman was not a berry, but a rose. 
 What does he hunt for in woman as much as 
 bloom and fragrance ? But I do not belong to 
 the rose-order of Southern women myself. Sylvia 
 does. Why did you send me that story ? ' 
 
 ' Didn't you like it ? ' 
 
 c No. A woman couldn't care for a story about 
 a man and a tigress. Either she would feel that 
 she was too much left out, or suspect that she was 
 too much put in. The same sort of story about a 
 lion and a woman that would be better.' 
 
 I raked in silence for a minute, and when I 
 looked up Georgiana was gone. I remember her 
 saying once that children should be kept tart ; but 
 now and then I fancy that she would like to keep 
 even a middle-aged man in brine. Who knows 
 but that in the end I shall sell my place to the 
 Cobbs and move away. 
 
 Five more days of April, and then May ! For 
 the last half of this light-and-shadow month, when 
 the clouds, like schools of changeable lovely 
 creatures, seem to be playing and rushing away 
 through the waters of the sun, life to me has 
 narrowed more and more to the red-bird, who gets 
 tamer and tamer with habit, and to Georgiana, 
 who gets wilder and wilder with happiness. The 
 bird fills the yard with brilliant singing ; she fills 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 119 
 
 her room with her low, clear songs, hidden behind 
 the window -curtains, which are now so much 
 oftener and so needlessly closed. I work myself 
 nearly to death in my garden, but she does not 
 open them. The other day the red-bird sat in a 
 tree near by, and his notes floated out on the air 
 like scarlet streamers. Georgiana was singing, so 
 low that I was making no noise with my rake in 
 order to hear ; and when he began, before I realised 
 what I was doing, I had seized a brickbat and 
 hurled it, barely missing him, and driving him 
 away. He did not know what to make of it ; 
 neither did I ; but as I raised my eyes I saw that 
 Georgiana had opened the curtains to listen to 
 him, and was closing them with her eyes on my 
 face, and a look on hers that has haunted me ever 
 since. 
 
 April the 26th. It's of no use. To-morrow 
 night I will go to see Georgiana, and ask her to 
 marry me. 
 
 April 28th. Man that is born of woman is of 
 few days and full of trouble. I am not the least 
 sick, but I am not feeling at all well. So have 
 made a will, and left everything to Mrs. Walters. 
 She has been over five times to-day, and this 
 evening sat by me a long time, holding my hand 
 and smoothing my forehead, and urging me to try 
 
120 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 a cream poultice a mustard- plaster a bowl of 
 gruel a broiled chicken. 
 
 I believe Georgiana thinks I'll ask her again. 
 Not if I lived by her through eternity ! Thy rod 
 and Thy staff they comfort me. 
 
XV 
 
 POOR devil will ask a 
 woman to marry him. 
 She will refuse him. 
 The day after she will 
 meet him as serenely as 
 if he had asked her for 
 a pin. 
 
 It is now May I5th, 
 and I have not spoken 
 to Georgiana when I've had a chance. She has 
 
122 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 been entirely too happy, to judge from her singing, 
 for me to get along with under the circumstances. 
 But this morning, as I was planting a hedge inside 
 my fence under her window, she leaned over and 
 said, as though nothing were wrong between us, 
 ' What are you planting ? ' 
 
 I have sometimes thought that Georgiana can 
 ask more questions than Socrates. 
 
 'A hedge.' 
 
 ' What for ? ' 
 
 ' To grow/ 
 
 1 What do you want it to grow for ? ' 
 
 ' My garden is too public. I wish to be pro 
 tected from outsiders.' 
 
 ' Would it be the same thing if I were to nail 
 up this window ? That would be so much quicker. 
 It will be ten years before your hedge is high 
 enough to keep me from seeing you. And even 
 then, you know, I could move upstairs. But I 
 am so sorry to be an outsider/ 
 
 ' I merely remarked that I was planting a 
 hedge.' 
 
 When Georgiana spoke again her voice was 
 lowered : ' Would you open a gateway for me 
 into your garden, to be always mine, so that I 
 might go out and come in, and never another 
 human soul enter it ? ' 
 
 Now Jacob had often begged me to cut him a 
 private gateway on that side of the garden, so that 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 123 
 
 only he might come in and go out ; and I had 
 refused, since I did not wish him to get to me so 
 easily with his complaints. Besides, a gate once 
 opened, who may not use it ? and I was indignant 
 that Georgiana should lightly ask anything at my 
 hands ; therefore I looked quickly and sternly up 
 at her and said, ' I will not.' 
 
 Afterwards the thought rushed over me that 
 she had not spoken of any gateway through my 
 garden fence, but of another one, mystical, hidden, 
 infinitely more sacred. For her voice descended 
 almost in a whisper, and her face, as she bent 
 down towards me, had on it I know not what 
 angelic expression. She seemed floating to me 
 from heaven. 
 
 May 17. To-day I put a little private gate 
 through my fence under Georgiana's window, as a 
 sign to her. Balaam's beast that I am ! Yes, 
 seven times more than the inspired ass. 
 
 As I passed to-day, I noticed Georgiana looking 
 down at the gate that I made yesterday. She held 
 a flower to her nose and eyes, but behind the leaves 
 I detected that she was laughing. 
 
 ' Good-morning ! ' she called to me. ' What 
 did you cut that ugly hole in your fence for ? ' 
 
 4 That's not an ugly hole. That's a little 
 private gateway.' 
 
124 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 ' But what's the little private gateway for ? ' 
 ' Oh, well ! You don't understand these matters. 
 I'll tell your mother.' 
 
 Looking dvwn at the gate that I made yesterday. 
 
 ' My mother is too old. She no longer stoops 
 to such things. Tell me I ' 
 ' Impossible ! ' 
 ' I'm dying to know/ 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 125 
 
 ' What will you give me ? ' 
 
 ' Anything this flower ! ' 
 
 ' But what would the flower stand for in that 
 case ? A little pri 
 
 ' Nothing. Take it ! ' and she dropped it 
 lightly on my face and disappeared. As I stood 
 twirling it ecstatically under my nose, and wonder 
 ing how I could get her to come back to the 
 window, the edge of a curtain was lifted, and a 
 white hand stole out and softly closed the 
 shutters. 
 
 In the evening Sylvia went in to a concert of 
 the school, which was to be held at the Court-house, 
 a chorus of girls being impanelled in the jury-box, 
 and the principal, who wears a little wig, taking 
 her seat on the woolsack. I promised to have the 
 very pick of the garden ready, and told Sylvia to 
 come to the arbour the last thing before starting. 
 She wore big blue rosettes in her hair, and at that 
 twilight hour looked as lovely, soft, and pure as 
 moonshine ; so that I lost control of myself and 
 kissed her twice once for Georgiana and once 
 for myself. Surely it must have been Sylvia's 
 first experience. I hope so. Yet she passed 
 through it with the composure of a graduate of 
 several years' standing. But, then, women inherit 
 a great stock of fortitude from their mothers in 
 this regard, and perpetually add to it by their own 
 dispositions. Ought I to warn Georgiana good 
 
126 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 heavens ! in a general way, of course that Sylvia 
 should be kept away from sugar, and well under 
 the influence of vulgar fractions ? 
 
 It made me feel uncomfortable to see her go 
 tripping out of her front gate on the arm of a 
 youth. Can it be possible that he would try to do 
 what / did ? Men differ so in their virtues, and 
 are so alike in their transgressions. This forward 
 gosling displayed white duck pantaloons, brandished 
 pumps on his feet, which looked flat enough to 
 have been webbed, and was scented as to his marital 
 locks with a far-reaching pestilence of bergamot 
 and cinnamon. 
 
 After they were gone I strolled back to my 
 arbour and sat down amid the ruins of Sylvia's 
 flowers. The night was mystically beautiful. 
 The moon seemed to me to be softly stealing down 
 the sky to kiss Endymion. I looked across towards 
 Georgiana's window. She was there, and I slipped 
 over and stood under it. 
 
 4 Georgiana,' I whispered, ' were you, too, 
 looking at the moon ? ' 
 
 * Part of the time,' she said sourly. * Isn't it 
 permitted ? ' 
 
 * Sylvia left her scissors in the arbour, and I 
 can't find them/ 
 
 'She'll find them to-morrow/ 
 
 * If they get wet, you know, they'll rust.' 
 
 * I keep something to take rust off.' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 127 
 
 * Georgiana, I've got something to tell you 
 about Sylvia/ 
 
 * What ? That you kissed her ? ' 
 4 N o ! Not that, exactly ! ' 
 
 4 Good-night ! ' 
 
 May 2 1 st. Again I asked Georgiana to be 
 mine. I am a perfect fool about her. But she's 
 coming my way at last God bless her ! 
 
 May 24th. I renewed my suit to Georgiana. 
 May 27th. I besought Georgiana to hear me. 
 
 May 28th. For the last time I offered my 
 hand in marriage to the elder Miss Cobb. Now 
 I am done with her for ever. I am no fool. 
 
 May 29th. Oh, damn Mrs. Walters. 
 
XVI 
 
 HIS morning, the jrd of 
 June, I went out to pick 
 the first dish of straw 
 berries for my breakfast. 
 As I was stooping down 
 I heard a timid, playful 
 voice at the window like 
 the echo of a year ago : 
 ( Are you the gardener ? ' 
 
 Since Georgiana will 
 
 not marry me, if she would only let me alone ! 
 ' Old man, are you the gardener ? ' 
 ' Yes, I'm the gardener. I know what you are/ 
 ' How much do you ask for your strawberries ? ' 
 ' They come high. Nothing of mine is to be 
 as cheap hereafter as it has been.' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 129 
 
 ' I am so glad for your sake. I should like 
 to possess something of yours, but I suppose every 
 thing is too high now.' 
 
 ' Entirely too high ! ' 
 
 4 If I only could have foreseen that there would 
 be an increase of value ! As for me, I have felt 
 that I am getting cheaper lately. I may have to 
 give myself away soon. If I only knew of some 
 one who loved the lower animals/ 
 
 ' The fox, for instance ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; do you know of any one who would 
 accept the present of a fox ? ' 
 
 ' Ahem ! I wouldn't mind having a tame fox. 
 I don't care much for wild foxes.' 
 
 4 Oh, this one would get tame in time.' 
 
 ' 1 don't believe I know of any one just at 
 present/ 
 
 ' Very well. Sylvia will get the highest mark 
 in arithmetic. And Joe is distinguishing himself 
 at West Point. That's what I wanted to tell you. 
 I'll send over the cream and sugar, and hope you 
 will enjoy all your berries. We shall buy some in 
 the market-house next week.' 
 
 Later in the forenoon I sent the strawberries 
 over to Georgiana. I have a variety that is the 
 shape of the human heart, and when ripe it matches 
 in colour that brighter current of the heart through 
 which runs the hidden history of our passions. 
 All over the top of the dish I carefully laid these 
 
 K 
 
130 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 heart-shaped berries, and under the biggest one, at 
 the very top, I slipped this little note : ' Look at 
 the shape of them, Georgiana ! I send them all to 
 you. They are perishable.' 
 
 This afternoon Georgiana sent back the empty 
 dish, and inside the napkin was this note : ' They 
 are exactly the shape and colour of my emery 
 needle-bag. I have been polishing my needles in 
 it for many years.' 
 
 Later, as I was walking to town, I met Georgiana 
 and her mother coming out. No explanation had 
 ever been made to the mother of that goose of a 
 gate in our division fence ; and as Georgiana had 
 declined to accept the sign, I determined to show 
 her that the gate could now stand for something 
 else. So I said : ' Mrs. Cobb, when you send your 
 servants over for green corn, you can let them 
 come through that little gate. It will be more 
 convenient.' 
 
 Only, I was so angry and confused that I called 
 her Mrs. Corn, and said that when she sent her 
 little Cobbs over . . . etc., etc. 
 
 After Georgiana's last treatment of me I re 
 solved not to let her talk to me out of her window. 
 So about nine o'clock this morning I took a negro 
 boy and set him to picking the berries, while I 
 stood by, directing him in a deep, manly voice as 
 to the best way of managing that intricate business. 
 
Georgiana and her mother coming out. 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 133 
 
 Presently I heard Georgiana begin to sing to her 
 self behind the curtains. 
 
 4 Hurry up and fill that cup,' I said to him 
 savagely. * And that will do this morning. You 
 can go to the mill. The meal's nearly out.' 
 
 When he was gone I called, in an undertone : 
 ' Georgiana ! Come to the window ! Please ! 
 Oh, Georgiana ! ' 
 
 But the song went on. What was the matter ? 
 I could not endure it. There was one way by 
 which perhaps she could be brought. I whistled 
 long and loud again and again. The curtains 
 parted a little space. 
 
 1 Iwas merely whistling to the bird,' I said. 
 
 ' I knew it,' she answered, looking as I had 
 never seen her. ' Whenever you speak to him 
 your voice is full of confidence and of love. I 
 believe in it and like to hear it.' 
 
 * What do you mean, Georgiana ? ' I cried 
 imploringly. 
 
 * Ah, Adam ! ' she said, with a rush of feeling. 
 It was the first time she had ever called me by 
 name. She bent her face down. Over it there 
 passed a look of sweetness and sadness indescribably 
 blended. ' Ah, Adam ! you have asked me many 
 times to marry you ! Make me believe once that 
 you love me ! Make me feel that I could trust 
 myself to you for life ! ' 
 
 4 What else can I do ? ' I answered, stirred to 
 
134 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 the deepest that was in me, throwing my arms 
 backward, and standing with an open breast into 
 which she might gaze. 
 
 And she did search my eyes and face in silence. 
 
 ' What more ? ' I cried again, * in God's 
 name ? ' 
 
 She rested her face on her palm, looking 
 thoughtfully across the yard. Over there the 
 red-bird was singing. Suddenly she leaned down 
 towards me. Love was on her face now. But 
 her eyes held mine with determination to wrest 
 from them the last truth they might contain, and 
 her voice trembled with doubt : 
 
 ' Would you put the red-bird in a cage for 
 me ? Would you be willing to do that for me, 
 Adam ? ' 
 
 At those whimsical, cruel words I shall never be 
 able to reveal all that I felt the surprise, the 
 sorrow, the pain. Scenes of boyhood flashed 
 through my memory. A conscience built up 
 through years of experience stood close by me 
 with admonition. I saw the love on her face, the 
 hope with which she hung upon my reply, as 
 though it would decide everything between us. I 
 did not hesitate ; my hands dropped to my side, 
 the warmth died out of my heart as out of spent 
 ashes, and I answered her, with cold reproach : 
 
 The colour died out of her face also. Her 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 135 
 
 eyes still rested on mine, but now with pitying 
 sadness. 
 
 ' 1 feared it,' she murmured audibly, but to 
 herself, and the curtains fell together. 
 
 Four days have passed. Georgiana has cast 
 me off. Her curtains are closed except when 
 she is not there. I have tried to see her ; she 
 excuses herself. I have written ; my letters come 
 back unread. I have lain in wait for her on the 
 streets ; she will not talk with me. The tie 
 between us has been severed. With her it could 
 never have been affection. 
 
 And for what? I ask myself over and over 
 and over and over for what ? Was she jealous 
 of the bird, and did she require that I should put 
 it out of the way ? Sometimes women do that. 
 Did she take that means of forcing me to a test ? 
 Women do that. Did she wish to show her power 
 over me, demanding the one thing she knew would 
 be the hardest for me to grant ? Women do that. 
 Did she crave the pleasure of seeing me do wrong 
 to humour her caprice ? Women do that. But 
 not one of these things can I even associate with 
 the thought of Georgiana. I have sought in every 
 way to have her explain, to explain myself. She 
 will neither give nor receive an explanation. 
 
 I had supposed that her unnatural request would 
 have been the end of my love, but it has not ; that 
 her treatment since would have fatally stung my 
 
136 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 pride, but it has not. I understand neither ; 
 forgive both ; love her now with that added pain 
 which comes from a man's discovering that the 
 woman dearest to him must be pardoned pardoned 
 as long as he shall live. 
 
 Never since have I been able to look at the red- 
 bird with the old gladness. He is the reminder of 
 my loss. Reminder ? Do I ever forget ? Am I 
 not thinking of that before his notes lash my 
 memory at dawn ? All day can they do more 
 than furrow deeper the channel of unforgetful- 
 ness? Little does he dream what my friend 
 ship for him has cost me. But this solace I 
 have at heart that I was not even tempted to 
 betray him. 
 
 Three days more have passed. No sign yet 
 that Georgiana will relent soon or ever. Each 
 day the strain becomes harder to bear. My mind 
 has dwelt upon my last meeting with her, until the 
 truth about it wavers upon my memory like vague, 
 uncertain shadows. She doubted my love for her. 
 What proof was it she demanded ? I must stop 
 looking at the red-bird, lying here and there under 
 the trees, and listening to him as he sings above 
 me. My eyes devour him whenever he crosses 
 my path with an uncomprehended fascination that 
 is pain. How gentle he has become, and how, 
 without intending it, I have deepened the perils of 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 137 
 
 his life by the very gentleness that I have brought 
 upon him. Twice already the fate of his species 
 has struck at him, but I have pledged myself to be 
 his friend. This is his happiest season ; a few 
 days now, and he will hear the call of his young in 
 the nest. 
 
 I shut myself in my workshop in the yard this 
 morning. I did not wish my servants to know. 
 In there I made a bird-trap such as I had often 
 used when a boy. And late this afternoon I went 
 to town and bought a bird-cage. I was afraid the 
 merchant would misjudge me, and explained. He 
 scanned my face silently. To-morrow I will snare 
 the red-bird down behind the pines long enough 
 to impress on his memory a life-long suspicion of 
 every such artifice, and then I will set him free 
 again in his wide world of light. Above all things, 
 I must see to it that he does not wound himself or 
 have the least feather broken. 
 
 It is far past midnight now, and I have not 
 slept or wished for slumber. 
 
 Constantly since darkness came on I have been 
 watching Georgiana's window for the light of her 
 candle, but there has been no kindly glimmer yet. 
 The only radiance shed upon the gloom outside 
 comes from the heavens. Great cage-shaped white 
 clouds are swung up to the firmament, and within 
 these pale, gentle, imprisoned lightnings flutter 
 
138 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 feebly to escape, fall back, rise, and try again and 
 again, and fail. 
 
 ... A little after dark this evening I carried 
 the red-bird over to Georgiana. . . . 
 
 I have seen her so little of late that I did not 
 know she had been away from home for days. 
 But she was expected to-night, or, at furthest, 
 to-morrow morning. I left the bird with the ser 
 vant at the door, who could hardly believe what 
 he saw. As I passed out of my front gate on my 
 way there, the boy who returns about that time 
 from the pasture for his cows joined me as I 
 hurried along, attracted by the fluttering of the 
 bird in the cage. 
 
 * Is it the red-bird ? / tried to catch him 
 once,' he said, with entire forgiveness of me, as 
 having served him right, ' but I caught something 
 else. I'll never forget that whipping. Oh, but 
 wouldn't I like to have him ! Mr. Moss, you 
 wouldn't mind my trying to catch one of those little 
 bits o' brown fellows, would you, that hop around 
 under the pine-trees ? They aren't any account to 
 anybody. Oh my ! but wouldn't I like to have 
 him ! May I bring my trap some time, and will 
 you help me to catch one o' those little bits o' 
 brown ones? You can't beat me catching them! ' 
 
 Several times to-night I have gone across and 
 listened under Georgiana's window. The servant 
 must have set the cage in her room, for, as I 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 139 
 
 listened, I am sure I heard the red-bird beating his 
 head and breast against the wires. A while ago I 
 
 But wouldn't I like to have him I ' 
 
 Went again, and did not hear him. I waited a long 
 time. . . . He may be quieted. . . . 
 
 Ah, if any one had said to me that I would ever 
 do what I have done, with what full, deep joy could 
 
140 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 I have throttled the lie in his throat ! I put the 
 trap under one of the trees where I have been used 
 to feed him. When it fell he was not greatly 
 frightened. He clutched the side of it, and looked 
 out at me. My own mind supplied his words : 
 1 Help ! I'm caught ! Take me out ! You pro 
 mised ! ' When I transferred him to the cage, for 
 a moment his confidence lasted still. He mounted 
 the perch, shook his plumage, and spoke out 
 bravely and cheerily. Then all at once came on 
 the terror. 
 
 The dawn came on this morning with its old 
 splendour. The birds in my yard, as of old, 
 poured forth their songs. But those loud, long, 
 clear, melodious, deep -hearted, passionate, best- 
 loved notes ! As the chorus swelled from shadowy 
 shrubs and vines to the sparkling tree -tops I 
 listened for some sound from Georgiana's room, 
 but over there I saw only the soft, slow flapping of 
 the white curtains like signals of distress. 
 
 Towards ten o'clock, wandering restless, I 
 snatched up a book which I had no wish to read, 
 and went to the arbour where I had so often dis 
 coursed to Sylvia about children's cruelty to birds. 
 Through the fluttering leaves the sunlight dripped 
 as a weightless shower of gold, and the long 
 pendants of young fruit swayed gently in their 
 cool waxen greenness. Where some rotting planks 
 crossed the top of the arbour a blue-jay sat on her 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 141 
 
 coarse nest ; and presently the mate flew to her 
 with a worm, and then talked to her in a low voice, 
 as much as saying that they must now leave the 
 place for ever. I was thinking how love softens 
 even the voice of this file-throated screamer, when 
 along the garden walk came the rustle of a woman's 
 clothes, and, springing up, I stood face to face with 
 Georgiana. 
 
 ' What have you done ? ' she implored. 
 
 ' What have you done ? ' I answered as quickly. 
 
 ' Oh, Adam, Adam ! You have killed it ! 
 How could you ? How could you ? ' 
 
 * ... Is he dead, Georgiana ? Is he dead ? . . . ' 
 
 I forgot everything else, and pulling my hat 
 down over my eyes, turned from her in the help 
 less shock of silence that came with those irrepar 
 able words. 
 
 Then, in ungovernable anger, suffering, remorse, 
 I turned upon her where she sat : c It is you who 
 killed him ! Why do you come here to blame me ? 
 And now you pretend to be sorry. You felt no 
 pity when pity would have done some good. 
 Trifler ! Hypocrite ! ' 
 
 ' It is false ! ' she cried, her words flashing from 
 her whole countenance, her form drawn up to 
 repel the shock of the blow. 
 
 ' Did you not ask for him ? ' 
 
 'No!' 
 
 ' Oh, deny it all ! It is a falsehood invented 
 
142 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 by me on the spot. You know nothing of it ! 
 You did not ask me to do this ! And when I have 
 
 ' What have you done ? ' she implored. 
 
 yielded, you have not run to reproach me here 
 and to cry, " How could you ? How could 
 you?"' 
 
 ' No ! No ! Every word of it ' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 143 
 
 ' Untruth added to it all ! Oh, that I should 
 have been so deceived, blinded, taken in ! ' 
 
 < Adam ! ' 
 
 ' Lovely innocence ! It is too much ! Go 
 away ! ' 
 
 ' I will not stand this any longer ! ' she cried. 
 ' 1 will go away ; but not till I have told you why 
 I have acted as I have/ 
 
 ' It is too late for that ! I do not care to hear ! ' 
 
 * Then you shall hear ! ' she replied. ' You 
 shall know that it is because I have believed you 
 capable of speaking to me as you have just spoken : 
 believed you at heart unsparing and unjust. You 
 think I asked you to do what you have done? 
 No ! I asked you whether you would be willing 
 to do it ; and when you said you would not, I saw 
 then by your voice, your eyes, your whole face 
 and manner that you would. Saw it as plainly 
 at that moment, in spite of your denial, as I see it 
 now the cruelty in you, the unfaithfulness, the 
 willingness to betray. It was for this reason not 
 because I heard you refuse, but because I saw you 
 consent that I could not forgive you.* 
 
 She paused abruptly and looked across into my 
 face. What she may now have read in it I do not 
 know. Then anger swept her on : 
 
 * How often have I not heard you bitter and 
 contemptuous towards people because they are 
 treacherous, cruel ! How often have you talked 
 
144 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 of your love of nature, of our inhumanity towards 
 lower creatures ! But what have you done ? 
 
 * You set your fancy upon one of these creatures, 
 lie in wait for it, beset it with kindness, persevere 
 in overcoming its wildness. You are amused, 
 delighted, proud of your success. One day you 
 remember ? it sang as you had always wished to 
 hear it. It annoyed you, and you threw a stone 
 at it. With a little less angry aim you would have 
 killed it. I have never seen anything more in 
 human. How do I know that some day you would 
 not be tired of me, and throw a stone at me ? 
 When a woman submits to this once, she will have 
 them thrown at her whenever she sings at the wrong 
 time, and she will never know when the right time is. 
 
 * Then you thought you were asked to sacrifice 
 it, and now you have done that. How do I know 
 that some day you might not be tempted to sacri 
 fice me ? ' She paused, her voice breaking, and 
 remained silent, as if unable to get beyond that 
 thought. 
 
 1 If you have finished/ I said very quietly, ' I 
 have something to say to you, and we need not 
 meet after this. 
 
 * I trapped the bird ; you trapped me. I under 
 stood you to ask something of me, to cast me off 
 when I refused it. Such was my faith in you that 
 beneath your words I did not look for a snare. 
 How hard it was for me to forgive you what you 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 145 
 
 asked is my own affair now ; but forgive you I 
 did. How hard it was to grant it that also is now, 
 and will always be, my own secret. I beg you 
 merely to believe this : knowing it to be all that 
 you have described and far more than you can 
 ever understand still, I did it. Had you de 
 manded of me something worse, I should have 
 granted that. If you think a man will not do 
 wrong for a woman, you are mistaken. If you 
 think men always love the wrong that they do for 
 the women whom they love, you are mistaken again. 
 
 ' You have held up my faults to me. I knew 
 them before. I have not loved them. Do not 
 think that I am trying to make a virtue out of 
 anything I say ; but in all my thoughts of you 
 there has been no fault of yours that I have not 
 hidden from my sight, and have not resolved as 
 best I could never to see. Yet do not dream that 
 I have found you faultless. 
 
 ' You fear I might sacrifice you to something 
 else. It is possible. Every man resists tempta 
 tion only to a certain point ; every man has his 
 price. It is a risk you will run with any. 
 
 ' If you doubt that a man is capable of sacri 
 ficing one thing that he loves to another that he 
 loves more, tempt him, lie in wait for his weak 
 ness, ensnare him in the toils of his greater 
 passion, and learn the truth. 
 
 c I make no defence believe all that you say. 
 L 
 
146 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 But had you loved me, I might have been all this, 
 and it would have been nothing ' 
 
 With this I walked slowly out of the arbour, 
 but Georgiana stood beside me. Her light touch 
 was on my arm. 
 
 ' Let me see things clearly ! ' 
 
 4 You have a lifetime in which to see things 
 clearly,' I answered. * How can that concern me 
 now ? ' And I passed on into the house. 
 
 During the morning I wandered restless. For 
 a while I lay on the grass down behind the pines. 
 How deep and clear are the covered springs of 
 memory ! All at once it was a morning in my 
 boyhood on my father's farm. I, a little Saul 
 of Tarsus among the birds, was on my way to 
 the hedge -rows and woods, as to Damascus, 
 breathing out threatenings and slaughter. Then 
 suddenly the childish miracle, which no doubt had 
 been preparing silently within my nature, wrought 
 itself out ; for from the distant forest trees, from 
 the old orchard, from thicket and fence, from the 
 wide green meadows, and down out of the depths 
 of the blue sky itself, a vast chorus of innocent 
 creatures sang to my newly opened ears the same 
 words : ' Why persecutest thou me ? ' One sang 
 it with indignation ; another with remonstrance ; 
 still another with resignation ; others yet with 
 ethereal sadness or wild elusive pain. Once more 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 147 
 
 the house-wren met me at the rotting gate-post, 
 and cried aloud, ' per-se-cu-testper-se-cu-test 
 per-se-cu-testper-se-cu-testr And as I peeped 
 
 A little Saul of Tarsus. 
 
 into the brush- pile, again the brown thrush, 
 building within, said, ' thou thou thou ! ' 
 
 Through all the years since I had thought 
 myself changed, and craved no greater glory than 
 
148 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 to be accounted the chief of their apostles. But 
 now I was stained once more with the old guilt, 
 and once more I could hear the birds in my 
 yard singing that old, old chorus against man's 
 inhumanity. 
 
 Towards the middle of the afternoon I went' 
 away across the country by any direction; I 
 cared not what. On my way back I passed 
 through a large rear lot belonging to my neigh 
 bour, and adjoining my own, in which is my 
 stable. There has lately been imported into this 
 part of Kentucky from England the much-prized 
 breed of the beautiful white Berkshire. As I 
 crossed the lot, near the milk- trough, ash -heap, 
 and parings of fruit and vegetables thrown from 
 my neighbour's kitchen, I saw a litter of these 
 pigs having their awkward sport over some 
 strange red plaything, which one after another of 
 them would shake with all its might, root and tear 
 at, or tread into greater shapelessness. It was all 
 there was left of him. If I could have been 
 spared the sight of that ! 
 
 I entered my long yard. The sun was setting. 
 Around me was the last peace and beauty of the 
 world. Through a narrow avenue of trees I 
 could see my house, and on its clustering vines 
 fell the angry red of the sun darting across the 
 cool green fields. 
 
 The last hour of light touches the birds as it 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 149 
 
 touches us. When they sing in the morning, it 
 is with the happiness of the earth ; but as the 
 shadows fall strangely about them, and the help 
 lessness of the night comes on, their voices seem 
 to be lifted up like the loftiest poetry of the 
 human spirit, with sympathy for realities and 
 mysteries past all understanding. 
 
 A great choir was hymning now. On the tops 
 of the sweet old honeysuckles the cat -birds ; 
 robins in the low boughs of maples ; on the high 
 limb of the elm the silvery-throated lark, who had 
 stopped as he passed from meadow to meadow ; 
 on a fence rail of the distant wheat-field the quail 
 and many another. I walked to and fro, re 
 ceiving the voice of each as a spear hurled at my 
 body. The sun sank. The shadows rushed on 
 and deepened. Suddenly, as I turned once more 
 in my path, I caught sight of the figure of 
 Georgiana moving straight towards me from the 
 direction of the garden. She was bare-headed, 
 dressed in white ; and she advanced over the 
 smooth lawn, through evergreens and shrubs, with 
 a gentle grace and dignity of movement such as I 
 had never beheld. I kept my weary pace, and 
 when she came up I did not lift my eyes. 
 
 * Adam ! ' she said, with gentle reproach. I 
 stood still then, but with my face turned away. 
 
 ' Forgive me ! ' All girlishness was gone out 
 of her voice. It was the woman at last. 
 
150 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 I turned my face farther from her, and we 
 stood in silence. 
 
 I 1 have suffered enough, Adam/ she pleaded. 
 
 I answered quietly, doggedly, for there was 
 nothing left in me to appeal to : 
 
 ' 1 am glad we can part kindly. . . . Neither 
 of us may care much for the kindness now, but 
 we will not be sorry hereafter. . . . The 
 quarrels, the mistakes, the right and the wrong 
 of our lives, the misunderstandings they are so 
 strange, so pitiful, so full of pain, and come so 
 soon to nothing/ And I lifted my hat, and took 
 the path towards my house. 
 
 There was a point ahead where it divided, the 
 other branch leading towards the little private 
 gate through which Georgiana had come. Just 
 before reaching the porch I looked that way, with 
 the idea that I should see Georgiana's white figure 
 moving across the lawn ; but I discovered that 
 she was following me. Mounting my door-steps, I 
 turned. She had paused on the threshold. I waited. 
 At length she said, in a voice low and sorrowful : 
 
 ' Are you not going to forgive me, Adam ? ' 
 
 ' I do forgive you ! ' The silence fell and 
 lasted. I no longer saw her face. At last her 
 despairing voice barely reached me again : 
 
 ' And is that all?' 
 
 I had no answer to make, and sternly waited 
 for her to go. 
 
> .<< 
 
 ' And h that all ? ' 
 
A Kentucky Cardinal 153 
 
 A moment longer she lingered, then turned 
 slowly away ; and I watched her figure growing 
 fainter and fainter till it was lost. I sprang after 
 
 Set our candles in our ivindoius. 
 
 her, my voice rang out hollow, and broke with 
 terror and pain and longing : 
 
 ' Georgiana ! Georgiana ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, Adam, Adam ! ' I heard her cry, with 
 low, piercing tenderness, as she ran back to me 
 through the darkness. 
 
154 A Kentucky Cardinal 
 
 When we separated we lighted fresh candles 
 and set them in our windows, to burn a pure 
 pathway of flame across the intervening void. 
 Henceforth we are like poor little foolish children, 
 sick and lonesome in the night without one 
 another. Happy, happy night to come when one 
 short candle will do for us both ! 
 
 . . . Ah, but the long, long silence of the 
 trees ! . 
 
AFTERMATH 
 
WAS happily at work this morn 
 ing among my butterbeans a vegetable of solid 
 merit and of far greater suitableness to my palate 
 than such bovine watery growths as the squash 
 and the beet. Georgiana came to her garden 
 window and stood watching me. 
 
 ' You work those butterbeans as though you 
 loved them] she said scornfully. 
 
 4 1 do love them. I love all vines.' 
 
 ' Are you cultivating them as vines or as 
 vegetables ? ' 
 
 1 It makes no difference to Nature.' 
 
 * Do you expect me to be a vine when we are 
 married ? ' 
 
 ' I hope you'll not turn out a mere vegetable. 
 How should you like to be a Virginia-creeper ? ' 
 
 ' And what would you be ? ' 
 
 4 What would you like ? A sort of honey 
 suckle frame ? ' 
 
158 Aftermath 
 
 ' Anything ! Only support me and give me 
 room to bloom.' 
 
 I do not always reply to Georgiana, though 
 I always could if I chose. Whenever I remain 
 silent about anything she changes the subject. 
 
 4 Did you know that Sylvia once wrote a poem 
 on a vegetable ? ' 
 
 < 1 did not.' 
 
 ' You don't speak as though you cared.' 
 
 ' You must know how deeply interested I 
 am.' 
 
 ' Then why don't you ask to see the poem ? ' 
 
 ' What was it on ? butterbeans ? ' 
 
 ' Sylvia has better taste.' 
 
 4 1 suppose I'd better look into this poem.' 
 
 4 You are not to laugh at it.' 
 
 ' I shall weep.' 
 
 ' Promise.' 
 
 ' What am I to promise ? 
 
 ' That you will read it without laughing.' 
 
 ' I do promise solemnly, cheerfully/ 
 
 ' Come and get it.' 
 
 I went over and stood under the window. 
 Georgiana soon returned and dropped down to me 
 a piece of writing-paper. 
 
 ' Sylvia wrote it before she began to think 
 about boys.' 
 
 ' It must be a very early poem of hers ! ' 
 
 4 It is ; and this is the only copy ; don't lose it.' 
 
Aftermath 159 
 
 < Then I think you ought to take it back at 
 
 once. Let me beg of you not to risk it ' But 
 
 she was gone ; and I turned to my arbour and 
 sat down to read Sylvia's poem, which I found 
 to be inscribed to ' The Potato/ and to run as 
 follows : 
 
 What on this wide earth 
 
 That is made or does by nature grow 
 Is more homely yet more beautiful 
 
 Than the useful Potato ? 
 
 What would this world full of people do, 
 Rich and poor, high and low, 
 
 Were it not for this little-thought-of 
 But very necessary Potato ? 
 
 True, 'tis homely to look on, 
 
 Nothing pretty even in its blow, 
 
 But it will bear acquaintance, 
 This useful Potato. 
 
 For when it is cooked and opened 
 
 It's so white and mellow, 
 You forget it ever was homely, 
 
 This useful Potato. 
 
 On the whole it is a very plain plant, 
 Makes no conspicuous show, 
 
 But the internal appearance is lovely 
 Of the unostentatious Potato. 
 
160 Aftermath 
 
 On the land or on the sea, 
 
 Wherever we may go, 
 We are always glad to welcome 
 
 The sound Potato. 1 
 
 In the afternoon I was cutting stakes at the 
 wood-pile for my butterbeans, and a bright idea 
 struck me. During my engagement to Georgiana 
 I cannot always be darting in and out of Mrs. 
 Cobb's front door like a swallow through a barn. 
 Neither can I talk freely to Georgiana with her 
 up at the window and me down on the ground 
 when I wish to breathe into her ear the things 
 that I must utter or die. Besides, the sewing-girl 
 whom Georgiana has engaged is nearly always 
 there. So that as I was in the act of trimming a 
 long slender stick, it occurred to me that I might 
 make use of this to elevate any little notes that I 
 might wish to write. 
 
 I was greatly taken with the thought, and, 
 dropping my hand-axe, hurried into the house 
 and wrote a note to her at once, which I there 
 upon tied to the end of the pole by a short 
 string. But as I started for the garden this 
 arrangement looked too much like catching 
 
 1 The elder Miss Cobb was wrong in thinking this poem 
 Sylvia's. It was extant at the time over the signature of 
 another writer, whose authorship is not known to have been 
 questioned. Miss Sylvia perhaps adopted and adapted it out 
 of admiration, or as a model for her own use. J. L. A, 
 
Aftermath 1 6 1 
 
 Georgiana with a bait. Therefore, happening to 
 remember, I stopped at my tool-house, where I 
 keep a little of everything, and took from a peg a 
 fine old specimen of a goldfinch's nest. This I 
 fastened to the end of the pole, and hiding my 
 note in it, now felt better satisfied. No one but 
 Georgiana herself would ever be able to tell what 
 it was that I might wish to lift up to her at any 
 time ; and in case of its being not a note, but a 
 plum a berry a peach it would be as safe as 
 it was unseen. This old house of a pair of gold 
 finches would thus become the home of our 
 fledgling hopes : every day a new brood of 
 vows would take flight across its rim into our 
 bosoms. 
 
 Watching my chance during the afternoon, 
 when the sewing-girl was not there, I rushed over 
 and pushed the stick up to the window. 
 
 ' Georgiana/ I called out, ' feel in the nest ! ' 
 
 She hurried to the window with her sewing in 
 her arms. The nest swayed to and fro on a level 
 with her nose. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' she cried, drawing back with 
 extreme distaste. 
 
 * Feel in it ! ' I repeated. 
 
 c I don't wish to feel in it,' she said. * Take it 
 away ! ' 
 
 4 There's a young dove in it,' I persisted * a 
 young cooer.' 
 
 M 
 
1 62 Aftermath 
 
 c I don't wish any young cooers,' she said, with 
 a grimace. 
 
 Seeing that she was not of my mind, I added, 
 pleadingly : * It's a note from me, Georgiana. 
 This is going to be our little private post-office ! ' 
 Georgiana sank back into her chair. She re 
 appeared with the flush of apple-blossoms and her 
 lashes wet with tears of laughter. But I do not 
 think that she looked at me unkindly. ' Our 
 little private post-office,' I persisted confidingly. 
 
 ' How many more little private things are we 
 going to have ? ' she inquired plaintively. 
 
 1 1 can't wait here for ever,' I said. ' This is 
 growing weather ; I might sprout.' 
 
 * A dry stick will not,' said Georgiana simply, 
 and went back to her sewing. 
 
 I took the hint, and propped the pole against 
 the house under the window. Later, when I took 
 it down, my note was gone. 
 
 I have set the pole under Georgiana's window 
 several times within the last two or three days. 
 It looks like a little dip-net, high and dry in the 
 air ; but so far as I can see with my unaided eye, 
 it has caught nothing so large as a gnat. It has 
 attracted no end of attention from the birds of the 
 neighbourhood, however, who never saw a gold 
 finch's nest swung to the end of a leafless pole and 
 placed where it could be so exactly reached by the 
 human hand. In particular, it has fallen under 
 
Aftermath 163 
 
 the notice of a pair of wrens, which are like women, 
 in that they usually have some secret business 
 behind their curiosity. The business in this case 
 is the matter of their own nest, which they have 
 located in a broken horse-collar in my saddle-house. 
 At such seasons they are alert for appropriating 
 building materials that may have been fetched to 
 hand by other birds ; and they have already 
 abstracted a piece of candle-wick from the bottom 
 of my post-office. 
 
 Georgiana has been chilly towards me for two 
 days, and I think is doing her best not to freeze 
 up altogether. I have racked my brain to know 
 why ; but I fear that my brain is not of the sort 
 to discover what is the matter with a woman when 
 nothing really is the matter. Moreover, as I am 
 now engaged to Georgiana, I have thought it better 
 that she should begin to bring her explanations to 
 me the steady sun that will melt all her uncertain 
 icicles. 
 
 At last this morning she remarked, but very 
 carelessly, c You didn't answer my note.' 
 
 4 What note, Georgiana ? ' I asked, thunder 
 struck. 
 
 She gave me such a look. 
 
 ' Didn't you get the note I put into that into 
 that ' Her face grew pink with vexation. 
 
 ' Did you put a note into the into the 
 I could not have spoken the word just then. 
 
1 64 Aftermath 
 
 I retired to my arbour, where I sat for half an 
 hour with my head in my hands. What could 
 have become of Georgiana's note ? A hand might 
 have filched it ; unlikely. A gust of wind might 
 have whisked it out ; impossible. I debated and 
 rejected every hypothesis to the last one. Acting 
 upon this, I walked straight to the saddle-house, 
 and in a dark corner peered at the nest of the 
 wrens. A speck of white paper was visible among 
 the sticks and shavings. I tore the nest out and 
 shook it to pieces. How those wrens did rage ! 
 The note was so torn and mudded that I could 
 not read it. But suppose a jay had carried it to 
 the high crotch of some locust ! I ran joyfully 
 back to the window. 
 
 1 I've found it, Georgiana ! ' I called out. 
 
 She appeared, looking relieved, but not exactly 
 forgiving. 
 
 ' Where ? ' 
 
 My tongue froze to the roof of my mouth. 
 
 * Where did you find it ? ' she repeated im 
 periously. 
 
 ' What do you want to know for ? ' I said 
 savagely. 
 
 1 Let me see it ! ' she demanded. 
 My clasp on it suddenly tightened. 
 
 * Let me see it ! ' she repeated, with genuine 
 fire. 
 
 * What do you want to see it for ? ' I said. 
 
Aftermath 165 
 
 She turned away. 
 
 ' Here it is,' I said, and held it up. 
 
 She looked at it a long time, and her brows 
 arched. 
 
 ' Did the mud-daubers have it ? ' 
 
 4 The wrens. It was merely a change of post- 
 office.' 
 
 ' I'd as well write the next one to them/ she 
 said, ' since they get the letters/ 
 
 Georgiana was well aware that she slipped the 
 note into the nest when they were looking and I 
 was not ; but women all women now and then 
 hold a man responsible for what they have done 
 themselves. Sylvia, for instance. She grew peevish 
 with me the other day because my garden failed to 
 furnish the particular flowers that would have 
 assuaged her whim. And yet for days Sylvia has 
 been helping herself with such lack of stint that 
 the poor clipped and mangled bushes look at 
 me as I pass sympathetically by them, and say, 
 4 If you don't keep her away, we'd as well be 
 weeds ! ' 
 
 The truth is that Sylvia's rampant session in 
 school, involving the passage of the Greatest Com 
 mon Divisor far more dreadful than the passage 
 of the Beresina her blue rosettes at the recent 
 Commencement, and the prospect of a long vaca 
 tion, together with further miscellany appertaining 
 to her age and sex, have strung the chords of her 
 
i66 
 
 Aftermath 
 
 sentimental being up to the highest pitch. Feeling 
 herself to be naturally a good instrument and now 
 
 Sylvia &nd the fM/ktf, 
 
 perfectly in tune, Sylvia requires that she shall be 
 continually played upon if not by one person, 
 then by another. Nature overloads a tendency in 
 order to make it carry straight along its course 
 
Dropped him cut into the street. 
 
Aftermath 169 
 
 against the interference of other tendencies ; and 
 she will sometimes provide a girl with a great many 
 young men, at the start, in order that she may be 
 sure of one husband in the end. The precaution 
 ary swarm in Sylvia's case seems multitudinous 
 enough to supply her with successive husbands to 
 the end of her days and in the teeth of all known 
 estimates of masculine mortality. How unlike 
 Georgiana ! 
 
 I think of Georgiana as the single peach on a 
 tree in a season when they are rarest. Not a very 
 large peach, and scarcely yet yielding a blush to 
 the sun, although its long summer heat is on the 
 wane; growing high in the air at the end of a 
 bough and clustered about by its shining leaves. 
 But what beauty, purity, freshness ! You must 
 hunt to find it and climb to reach it ; but when 
 you get it, you get it all there is not a trace left 
 for another. But Sylvia ! I am afraid Sylvia is 
 like a big bunch of grapes that hangs low above 
 a public pathway : each passer-by reaches up and 
 takes a grape. 
 
 I caught some one taking a grape the other 
 evening a sort of green grape. Sylvia had been 
 sending bouquets to the gosling who was her escort 
 on the evening of her Commencement him of the 
 duck trousers and webbed feet. On one occasion 
 I have observed her walking along the borders of 
 my garden in his company and have overheard her 
 
I jo Aftermath 
 
 telling him that he could come in and get flowers 
 whenever he wished. 
 
 To cap the climax, after twilight on the evening 
 in question, I strolled out to my arbour for a quiet 
 hour with thoughts of Georgiana. Whom should 
 I surprise in there but Sylvia and the gosling ! 
 deep in the shadow of the vines. He had his arm 
 around her and was kissing her. 
 
 ' Upon my honour ! ' I said ; and striding over 
 to him I thrust my hand under his coat-tails, 
 gripped him by the seat of his ducks, dragged him 
 head downward to the front fence and dropped 
 him out into the street. 
 
 * Let me catch you in here kissing anybody 
 again ! ' I said. 
 
 He had bit me viciously on one of my calves 
 which are sizable as I had dragged him along ; 
 so that I had been forced to stoop down and twist 
 him loose by screwing the end of 'his spongy nose. 
 I met him on the street early the next morning, 
 and it wore the hue of a wild plum in its ripeness. 
 I tapped it. 
 
 ' Only three persons know of your misbehaviour 
 last night/ I said. * If you ever breathe it to a 
 soul that you soiled that child by your touch, the 
 next time I get hold of you it will not be your 
 nose : it will be your neck ! ' 
 
 My mortification at Sylvia's laxness was so keen 
 that I should have forborne returning to the arbour 
 
Aftermath 173 
 
 had I not felt assured that she must have escaped 
 to the house through modesty and sheer shame. 
 But she had not budged. 
 
 4 1 blush for you, Sylvia ! ' I exclaimed. ' I 
 know all about that fellow ! He shouldn't kiss 
 my old cat ! ' 
 
 * I don't see what you have to do with it ! ' said 
 Sylvia placidly. * And I have waited to tell you 
 that I hope you will never interrupt me again when 
 I am engaged in entertaining a young gentleman.' 
 
 4 Sylvia, my dear child ! ' I said gravely, sitting 
 down beside her. ' How old are you ? ' 
 
 ' I am of the proper age to manage my own 
 affairs,' said Sylvia, ' with the assistance of my 
 immediate family.' 
 
 4 Well, I don't think you are,' I replied. ' And 
 since your brother is at West Point, there is one 
 thing that I am going to take the liberty of telling 
 you, which the other members of your family may 
 not fully understand. If you were younger, Sylvia, 
 you might do a good deal of this and not be hurt 
 by it ; or you might not be hurt by it if you were 
 a good deal older ; but at your age it is terrible ; 
 in time it will affect your character.' 
 
 ' How old must I be ? ' said Sylvia wickedly. 
 
 ' Well, in your case,' I replied warmly, a little 
 nettled by her tone, ' you'd better abstain alto 
 gether/ 
 
 ' And in your case ? ' said Sylvia. 
 
1 74 Aftermath 
 
 ' Never mind my case ! ' I retorted. 
 
 1 But I do mind it when I suffer by it/ said 
 Sylvia. ' I do mind it if it's going to affect my 
 character ! ' 
 
 4 You know very well, Sylvia,' I replied, ' that 
 I never kissed you but three times, and then as a 
 brother.' 
 
 c I do not wish any one but my brother to kiss 
 me in that way,' said Sylvia, with a pout of dis 
 appointment. 
 
 It seemed to me that this was a fitting time to 
 guide Sylvia's powers of discrimination as to the 
 way she should act with indifferent men and as 
 to the way that different men would try to act 
 with her. 
 
 I had been talking to her in a low tone I do 
 not know how long. Her ill-nature had quickly 
 vanished : she was, in her way, provoking, charming. 
 I was sitting close to her. The moonlight played 
 upon her daring, wilful face through the leaves of 
 the grape-vines. It was unpremeditated ; my 
 nature was, most probably, unstrung at the instant 
 by ungratified longings for Georgiana ; but sud 
 denly I bent down and kissed her. 
 
 Instantly both Sylvia and I started from the 
 seat. How long Georgiana had been standing in 
 the entrance to the arbour I do not know. She 
 may that instant have come. But there she was, 
 dressed in white pure, majestic, with the moon 
 
' Sylvia, my dear child, hoiv old are you f ' 
 
Aftermath 177 
 
 shining behind her, shedding about her the radiance 
 of a heavenly veil. 
 
 4 Come, Sylvia,' she said, with perfect sweetness ; 
 and, bidding me good-night with the same gentle 
 woman's calm, she placed her arm about the child's 
 waist, and the two sisters passed slowly and silently 
 out of my garden. 
 
 At that moment, if I could have squeezed myself 
 into the little screech-owl perched in a corner of 
 the arbour, I would gladly have crept into the 
 hollow of an oak and closed my eyes. Still, how 
 was I to foresee what I should do ? A man's con 
 versation may be his own ; his conduct may vibrate 
 with the extinct movements of his ancestors. 
 
 Georgiana's behaviour then was merely the 
 forerunner of larger marvels. For next morning 
 I wrote a futile drastic treatise on Woman's inability 
 to understand Man and Man's inability to under 
 stand Himself, and set it under her window. It 
 made such a roll of paper that the goldfinch's nest 
 looked as though it were distent with a sort of 
 misshapen ostrich egg. All day I waited with a 
 heart as silent as a great clock run down ; my 
 system of philosophy swung dead in the air. To 
 my tortured vision, as I eyed it secretly from my 
 porch, it took on the semblance of one of Sylvia's 
 poetical potatoes, and I found myself urging in 
 its behalf Sylvia's fondest epithets : ( how homely, 
 yet how beautiful,' * little thought of, but very 
 
178 Aftermath 
 
 necessary,' ' unostentatious, but lovely internal 
 appearance/ 
 
 Towards sunset I took it sadly down. On top 
 of the nest lay Georgiana's old scarlet emery-bag 
 stuck full of her needles ! She had divined what 
 all the writing meant and would not have it. 
 Instead she sent me this emblem not only of her 
 forgiveness, but of her surrender. When a man 
 expects a woman to scold him and she does not, he 
 either gets to be a little afraid of her morally or he 
 wants to take her in his arms. Henceforth, if 
 Georgiana were removed to another planet, I would 
 rather worship her there simply as my evening or 
 morning star than coexist with any earthly woman. 
 One thought besets me : did she realise that 
 perhaps she herself was the cause of my mis 
 demeanours with Sylvia ? Has she the penetration 
 to discover that when a woman is engaged to a 
 man she cannot deny him all things except at her 
 own peril ? 
 
 This proof of her high-mindedness and the 
 enchanting glimpses of her face that she has 
 vouchsafed me since, goaded me yesterday to 
 dispatch a reckless note : ' Will you come to the 
 arbour for a little while to-night ? I have never 
 dared ask this before, but you know how I have 
 desired it. It is so much more private there. 
 Write on the back of this paper one word, "Yes." 
 There is a pencil in the nest.' 
 
Aftermath 179 
 
 The shutters were nearly closed, but I caught 
 sight of the curve of a shoulder and the movement 
 of a busy hand. As I pushed the note up I said : 
 
 4 Read it at once. I am waiting/ 
 
 A hand came out and took in the note, then the 
 pencil ; then note and pencil were put back. On 
 the former was written, 'Yes.' 
 
 I think I must have done a dozen things in five 
 minutes, and then I started aimlessly off to town. 
 On the way I met Georgiana. 
 
 ' Good God, Georgiana ! ' I exclaimed. ' You 
 here ? ' 
 
 < Where else ? ' said she. < And why not ? ' 
 
 4 1 thought I just saw you at the window ' 
 
 And then my awful soul within me said : 
 ' H-sh-sh-sh ! Not a word of this to a. human 
 being ! ' 
 
 After supper last night I called old Jack and 
 Dilsy into the garden, and led them around it, 
 giving orders ; thence to the arbour, where I bade 
 them sit down. 
 
 In the year of 1805 Mr. Jefferson, as president 
 of the Philosophical Society, ordered excavations to 
 be made at Big Bone Lick in Kentucky for the 
 skeletons of extinct animals. My father, who was 
 interested in antiquities, had had much correspond 
 ence with Mr. Jefferson in regard to earlier dis 
 coveries at that spot ; and when this expedition 
 was undertaken he formed one of the explorers. 
 
i8o Aftermath 
 
 Jack, his servant, at that time a strapping young 
 fellow, had been taken along as one of the negroes 
 who were to do the digging. 
 
 The wonders then unearthed have always been 
 the greenest spot in old Jack's memory ; so that 
 they have been growing larger ever since. When 
 ever I wish to hear him discourse with the dogmatic 
 bluster of a sage who had original information as 
 to geological times, I set Jack to talking about the 
 bones of the Mastodon-Maxim us ^ the name of which 
 he gets from me, with a puzzled shake of his head, 
 about regularly once a year. It is my private 
 opinion that old Jack believes Big Bone Lick to 
 have been the place where the Ark settled, and 
 these to have been the bones of animals that had 
 been swept out by Noah on landing. 
 
 Last night I had merely to ask him whether he 
 credited the story of an old traveller that he had 
 once used some ribs found there for his tent-poles 
 and a tooth for his hominy beater ; whereupon 
 Dilsy, foreseeing what was coming, excused herself 
 on the plea of sudden rheumatism and went to 
 bed, as I wished she should. 
 
 The hinges on the little private gate under 
 Georgiana's window I keep rusty ; this enables me 
 to note when any one enters my garden. By-and- 
 by I heard the hinges softly creak, whereupon I 
 feigned not to believe what Jack was telling me ; 
 whereupon he fell into an harangue of such 
 
Aftermath 1 8 1 
 
 affectionate and sustained vehemence that when 
 the hinges creaked again I was never able to 
 determine. Was ever such usage made before of 
 an antediluvian monster ? 
 
 To-day the sewing-girl thrust out spiteful faces 
 at me several times. 
 
 She is the one that helped Georgiana last year 
 when she was making her wedding -clothes to 
 marry the West Point cousin. God keep him 
 safely in the distance, or guide him firmly to the 
 van of war ! How does a woman feel when she is 
 making her wedding-clothes for the second time 
 and for another man P I know very well how the 
 other man feels. Upon my urging Georgiana to 
 marry me at once nature does not recognise 
 engagements ; they are a device of civilisation 
 she protested : 
 
 ' But I must get ready ! Think of the sewing ! ' 
 
 * Oh, bother ! ' I grumbled. ' Where are all 
 those clothes that you made last year ? ' 
 
 How was I to suppose that Georgiana must 
 have everything made over as part of her feeling 
 for me ? I would not decree it otherwise ; yet I 
 question whether this delicacy may not impose 
 reciprocal obligations, and remove from my life 
 certain elements of abiding comfort. What if it 
 should engender a prejudice against my own time- 
 worn acquaintances the familiars of my fireside ? 
 It might be justifiable sagacity in me to keep them 
 
1 8 2 Aftermath 
 
 locked up for the first year or so after Georgiana 
 and I become a diune being ; and, upon the whole, 
 she should never know what may have been the 
 premarital shortcomings of my wardrobe as respects 
 things unseen. No matter how well a bachelor 
 may appear dressed, there is no telling what he 
 conceals as to his being darned or undarned. I 
 feel sure that the retrospective discovery of a 
 ravelling would somehow displease Georgiana as a 
 feature of our courtship. Nature is very stringent 
 here, very guarded, truly universal. Invariably 
 the young men of my day grow lavish in the use 
 of unguents when they are preparing for natural 
 selection ; and I flatter myself that even my own 
 garments in their superficial aspects at least, and 
 during my long pursuit of Georgiana have not 
 been very far from somewhat slightly ingratiating. 
 
 This pursuit is now drawing to a close. It is 
 nearly the last of June. She has given me her 
 word that she will marry me early in September. 
 Two months for her to get the bridal feathers 
 ready ; two for me to prepare the nest. 
 
 I have not yet breathed our engagement to 
 Mrs. Walters. To tell her and not expect her to 
 tell would be like giving a thump to the dry head 
 of a thistle on a breezy day and not expecting the 
 seed to go flying off in a hundred directions. 
 
II 
 
 HAVE forgotten Nature. 
 I barely know that 
 July, now nearly gone, 
 has passed, sifted with 
 sweetness and ablaze 
 with light. Time has 
 swept on, the world 
 run round ; but I have 
 stood motionless, abid 
 ing the hour of my marriage as a tree the 
 season of its leaves. For all that it looks so calm, 
 within goes on a tremendous surging of sap against 
 its moments of efflorescence. 
 
 After which I pray that, not as a tree, but as a 
 man, I may have a little peace. When Georgiana 
 confessed her love, I had supposed this confession 
 
184 Aftermath 
 
 to mark the end of her elusiveness. When later on 
 she presented to me the symbol of a heart, pierced 
 with needles, I had taken it for granted that 
 thenceforth she would settle down into something 
 like a state of prenuptial domestication, growing 
 less like a swift and more like a hen. But there 
 is nothing gallinaceous about my Georgiana. I 
 took possession of her vow and the emery-ball, 
 not of her ; the privilege was merely given to 
 plant my flagstaff on the uncertain edge of an 
 unknown land. In war it sometimes becomes 
 necessary to devastate a whole country in order to 
 control a single point : I should be pleased to 
 learn what portion of the earth's surface I am 
 required to subdue ere I shall hold one little 
 citadel. 
 
 As for me, Georgiana requires that I shall be a 
 good deal like an old rock jutting out of the quiet 
 earth : never ruffled, never changing either on the 
 surface or at heart, bearing whatever fails upon 
 me, be it frost or sun, and warranted to waste 
 away only by a sort of impersonal disintegration at 
 the rate of half an inch to the thousand years. 
 Meantime she exacts for herself the privilege of 
 dwelling near as the delighted cave of the winds. 
 The part of wisdom in me then is not to heed 
 each sallying gust, but to capture the cave and 
 drive the winds away. 
 
 For I know in whom I have believed ; I know 
 
Aftermath 
 
 that this myriad caprice is but the deepening of 
 excitement on the verge of captivity ; I know that 
 
 Sylvia performing. 
 
 on ahead lie the regions of perpetual calm my 
 Islands of the Blest, 
 
1 86 Aftermath 
 
 Georgia na does not play upon the pianoforte, 
 or, as Mrs. Walters would declare, she does not 
 perform upon the instrument. Sylvia does ; she 
 performs, she executes. There are times when 
 she will execute a piece called c The Last Hope ' 
 until the neighbours are filled with despair and 
 ready to stretch their heads on the block to any 
 more merciful executioner. Nor does Georgiana 
 sing to company in the parlour. That is Sylvia's 
 gift ; and upon the whole it was this unmitigated 
 practice in the bosom and in the ears of her 
 family that enabled Sylvia to shine with such vocal 
 effulgence in the procession on the last Fourth of 
 July and devote a pair of unflagging lungs to the 
 service of her country. 
 
 But Georgiana I have never known to sing 
 except w r hen sewing and alone, as the way of 
 women often is. During a walk across the summer 
 fields my foot has sometimes paused at the brink 
 of a silvery runlet, and I have followed it back 
 ward in search of the spring. It may lead to the 
 edge of a dark wood ; thence inward deeper and 
 deeper ; disappearing at last in a nook of coolness 
 and shadow, green leaves and mystery. The over 
 heard rill of Georgiana's voice issues from inner 
 depths of being that no human soul has ever 
 visited, or perhaps will ever visit. What would I 
 not give to thread my way, bidden and alone, to 
 that far region of uncaptured loveliness ? 
 
Aftermath 187 
 
 Of late some of the overheard lullabies have 
 touched me inexpressibly. They beat upon my 
 ear like the musical reveries of future motherhood 
 they betoken in Georgiana's maidenhood the 
 dreaming unrest of the maternal. 
 
 One morning not long ago, with a sort of 
 pitiful gaiety, her song ran in the wise of saying 
 how we should gather our rosebuds while we may. 
 The warning could not have been addressed to 
 me ; I shall gather mine while I may the 
 unrifled rose of Georgiana's life, heart and 
 spirit. 
 
 Naturally she and I have avoided the subject of 
 the Cardinal. But to the tragedy of his death was 
 joined one circumstance of such coarse and brutal 
 unconcern that it had left me not only remorseful 
 but resentful. As we sat together the other 
 evening, after one of those silences that fall un 
 regarded between us, I could no longer forbear to 
 face an understanding. 
 
 ' Georgiana,' I said, ' do you know what became 
 of the red-bird ? ' 
 
 Unwittingly the colour of reproach must have 
 lain upon my words, for she answered quickly with 
 yet more in hers : 
 
 ' I had it buried ! ' 
 
 It was my turn to be surprised. 
 
 ' Are you sure ? ' 
 
 4 1 am sure. I told them where to bury it ; I 
 
1 88 Aftermath 
 
 showed them the very spot under the cedar. 
 They told me they had. Why ? ' 
 
 I thought it better that she should learn the 
 truth. 
 
 ' You know we can't trust our negroes. They 
 disobeyed you. They lied to you ; they never 
 buried it. They threw it on the ash-pile. The 
 pigs tore it to pieces ; I saw them ; they were 
 rooting at it and tearing it to pieces/ 
 
 She had clasped her hands, and turned towards 
 me in acute distress. After a while, with her face 
 aside, she said slowly: 
 
 ' And you have believed that I knew of this 
 that I permitted it ? ' 
 
 * I have believed nothing. I have waited to 
 understand/ 
 
 A few minutes later she said, as if to herself, 
 ' Many a person would have been only too glad to 
 believe it, and to blame me.' Then folding her 
 hands over one of mine, she said, with tears in 
 her eyes : 
 
 4 Promise me promise me, Adam, until we are 
 married, and yes, after we are married as long 
 as I live, that you will never believe anything of 
 me until you know that it is true ! ' 
 
 ' I do promise, dear, dear, dearest one ! ' I cried, 
 trying to draw her to me, but she would not 
 permit it. * And you ? ' 
 
 ' 1 shall never misunderstand,' she replied, as 
 
Aftermath 189 
 
 with a flash of white inward light. ' I know that 
 you can never do anything that will make me 
 think the less of you.' 
 
 Since the sad, sad day on which I caused the 
 death of the Cardinal, I have paid little heed to 
 the birds. The subject has been a sore one. 
 Besides, my whole life is gradually changing under 
 the influence of Georgiana, who draws me farther 
 and farther away from Nature, and nearer and 
 nearer to my own kind. 
 
 When, two years ago, she moved into this part 
 of the State, I dwelt on the outskirts of the town 
 and of humanity. On the side of them lay the 
 sour land of my prose ; the country, nature, rolled 
 away on the other side as the sweet deep ocean of 
 my poetry. I called my neighbours my mani 
 festations of prose ; my doings with the towns 
 people, prose passages. The manifestations and 
 passages scarce made a scrimp volume. There 
 was Jacob, who lived on his symptoms and died 
 without any ; there was and there is Mrs. Walters 
 may she last to the age of the eagle. In town, 
 a couple of prose items of cheap quality : an old 
 preacher who was willing to save my soul while my 
 strawberries were ripe, and an old doctor who 
 cared to save my body so long as he could eat my 
 pears with others interested severally in my 
 asparagus, my rhubarb, my lilies, and sweet-peas. 
 
i go Aftermath 
 
 Always not forgetting a few inestimably whole 
 some, cheery, noble souls, who sought me out on 
 the edge of human life rather than succeeded in 
 drawing me over the edge towards the centre. 
 
 But this Georgiana has been doing long 
 without my knowing it. I have become less a 
 woodsman, more a civilian. Unless she relents, 
 it may end in my ceasing to be a lover of birds, 
 and running for the legislature. Seeing me so 
 much on the streets, one of my fellow-townsmen 
 declared the other day that if I would consent to 
 come out of the cane-brakes for good they would 
 make me postmaster. 
 
 It has fallen awkwardly for me that this enforced 
 transformation in my tastes and habits should 
 coincide with the season of my love-making ; and 
 it is well that Georgiana does not demand in me 
 the capering or strutting manners of those young 
 men of my day who likewise are exerting them 
 selves to marry. I am more like a badger than 
 like one of them ; and indeed I find the image of 
 my fate and my condition in a badger-like creature 
 close at hand. 
 
 For the carpenter who is at work upon bridal 
 repairs in my house has the fancy not uncommon 
 among a class hereabouts to keep a tamed raccoon. 
 He brings it with him daily, and fastens it by its 
 chain to a tree in my front yard : a rough, burly, 
 knowing fellow, loving wild nature, but forced to 
 
He ivas sitting on t lie front forc/i. 
 
Aftermath 193 
 
 acquire the tediousness of civilisation ; meantime 
 leading a desperately hampered life ; wondering at 
 his own teeth and claws, and sorely put to it to 
 invent a decent occupation. So am I ; and as the 
 raccoon paces everywhere after the carpenter, so 
 do I in spirit pace everywhere after Georgiana ; 
 only his chain seems longer and more easily to be 
 broken. The restless beast enlivens his captivity 
 by the keenest scrutiny of every object within his 
 range ; I too have busied myself with the few 
 people that have come this way. 
 
 First, early in the month Georgiana's brother 
 down from West Point, very stately, and with his 
 brow stern, as if for gory war. When I called 
 promptly to pay my respects, as his brother-in-law 
 to be, he was sitting on the front porch surrounded 
 by a subdued family, Georgiana alone remaining 
 unawed. He looked me over indifferently, as 
 though I were a species of ancient earthworks not 
 worth any more special reconnaissance, and con 
 tinued his most superior remarks to his mother 
 on the approaching visit of three Generals. 
 
 Upon leaving I invited him to join me on the 
 morrow in a squirrel hunt with small-bores, where 
 upon he manifested surprise that I was acquainted 
 with the use of firearms. Whereupon I remarked 
 that I would sometimes hit big game if it were so 
 close that I could not miss it, and further urged 
 him to have breakfast with me at a very early hour 
 
 o 
 
1 94 Aftermath 
 
 in order that we might reach the woods while the 
 squirrels were at theirs. 
 
 Going home, I knocked at the cabin where 
 Jack and Dilsy lay snoring side by side with the 
 velocity of rival saw-mills, and begged Dilsy to 
 give me a bite about daybreak coffee and corn- 
 batter cakes saying that I could get breakfast 
 when I returned. I shared this scant bite with 
 my young soldier to Dilsy 's abject mortification, 
 I not having told her of his coming. Then we 
 set off at a brisk pace towards a great forest south 
 of the town some five miles away, where the 
 squirrels had appeared and were doing great 
 damage, being the last of a countless plague of 
 them that overran northern and central Kentucky 
 a year ago. 
 
 On the way I dragged him through several 
 cane-brakes, a thicket of blackberry; kept him 
 out all day ; said not a word about dinner ; 
 avoided every spot where he could have gotten a 
 swallow of water ; not once sat down to rest ; 
 towards the middle of the afternoon told him I 
 desired to take enough squirrels home to make 
 Jack a squirrel-skin overcoat, and asked him to 
 carry while I killed ; loaded him with squirrels, 
 neck, shoulders, breast, back and loins, till as he 
 moved he tottered and swayed like a squirrel 
 pyramid ; about sundown challenged him to what 
 he had not yet had, some crack shooting, which in 
 
Then ive set off at a brisk pac 
 
The three Generals. 
 
Aftermath 199 
 
 that light requires young eyesight, and barked the 
 squirrel for him four times ; later still snuffed the 
 candle for him, having brought one along for the 
 purpose ; and then, with my step fresh, led him 
 swiftly home. 
 
 He has the blood of Georgiana in him, and 
 stood it like a man. But he was nearly dead. He 
 has saluted me since as though I were a murderous 
 garrison intrenched on the Heights of Abraham. 
 
 Then the three Generals of the United States 
 army descended in a body or in three bodies ; 
 and the truth is that their three bodies scarce held 
 them, they were in such a state of flesh when they 
 reached Kentucky, and of being perpetually over 
 fed while they remained. The object of their 
 joint visit under a recent act of Congress was to 
 locate a military asylum for disabled soldiers ; and 
 had they stayed much longer they must have had 
 themselves admitted to their own institution as 
 foremost of the disabled. Having spent some 
 time at the Lower Blue Lick Springs, the proposed 
 site, where this summer are over five hundred 
 guests of our finest Southern society, they after 
 wards were drawn around with immense solidity 
 towards Louisville, Frankfort, Maysville, Paris, 
 and Lexington, being everywhere received with 
 such honours and provisions that these great guns 
 were in danger of becoming spiked for ever in both 
 barrel and tube. 
 
2oo Aftermath 
 
 Upon reaching this town one of them detached 
 himself from the heated rolling mass and accepted 
 the invitation of young Cobb who had formed 
 the acquaintance at West Point to make a visit 
 in his home. He had not been there many days 
 before he manoeuvred to establish a private military 
 retreat for himself in the affections of Mrs. Cobb. 
 So that his presence became a profanation to 
 Georgiana, whose reverence for her heroic father 
 burns like an altar of sacred fire, and whose nature 
 became rent in twain between her mother's suitor 
 and her brother's guest. 
 
 A most pestiferous variety of caterpillar has 
 infested the tops of my cherry-trees this summer, 
 and during the General's encampment near Mrs. 
 Cobb I happened several times to be mounted on 
 my step-ladder, busy with my pruning -shears, 
 when he was decoying her around her garden, 
 just over the fence, buckled in to suffocation, 
 and with his long epaulettes golden in the sun like 
 tassels of the corn. I was engaged in exterminat 
 ing this insect on the last day of his sojourn. 
 They were passing almost beneath me on the other 
 side ; he had been talking ; I heard her brief reply, 
 in a voice low and full of dignity : 
 
 * I have been married, sir ! ' 
 
 * Mother of Georgiana ! ' I cried, within myself. 
 But had she ever thought of taking a second 
 husband she must have seen through ' Old Drum- 
 

 / have been married, sir ! ' 
 
Aftermath 203 
 
 beater/ as Sylvia called him. There were times 
 when their breakfast would be late for the sake 
 of letting his chicken be broiled in slow perfection 
 or his rolls or waffles come to a faultless brown ; 
 and I, being at work near the garden fence, would 
 hear him tramping up and down the walk on the 
 other side and swearing at a family that had such 
 irregular meals. The camel, a lean beast, requires 
 an extraordinary supply of food, which it proceeds 
 to store away in its hump as nourishment to be 
 drawn upon while it is crossing the desert. There 
 may be no long campaigning before the General ; 
 but if there were and rations were short, why could 
 he not live upon his own back ? It is of a thick 
 ness, a roundness, and an impenetrability that 
 would have justified Jackson in using him as a 
 cotton-bale at the battle of New Orleans. 
 
 Thus in my little corner of the world we have 
 all been at the same business of love, and I wonder 
 whether the corner be not the world itself : Mrs. 
 Cobb and the General, Georgiana and I, the sewing- 
 girl and the carpenter ; for I had forgotten to note 
 how quickly these two have found out that they 
 want each other. My arbour is at his service, if 
 he wishes it ; and Jack shall keep silent about the 
 mastodon. 
 
 It is true that from this sentimental enumeration 
 I have omitted the name of Mrs. Walters ; but 
 there is a secret here which not even Georgiana 
 
204 Aftermath 
 
 herself will ever get from me. Mrs. Walters 
 came to this town twenty years ago from the 
 region of Bowling Green. Some years afterwards 
 I made a trip into that part of the State to hear 
 the mocking-bird for it fills those more southern 
 groves, but never visits ours ; and while there I 
 stepped by accident on this discovery : There never 
 was any Mr. Psalters. It is her maiden name. 
 But as I see the freedom of her life and reflect upon 
 the things that a widow can do and an old maid 
 cannot with her own sex and with mine I com 
 mend her wisdom and leave her at peace. Indeed 
 I have gone so far, when she has asked for my 
 sympathy, as to lament with her Mr. Walters's 
 death. After all, what great difference is there 
 between her weeping for him because he is no 
 more, and her weeping for him because he never 
 was? After which she freshens herself up with 
 another handkerchief, a little Florida water, and a 
 pigment of May roses from the apothecary's. 
 
 And I have omitted the name of Sylvia ; but 
 then Sylvia's name, like that of Lot's wife, can 
 never be used as one of a class, and she herself 
 must always be spoken of alone. (If Sylvia had 
 been Lot's wife, she would not have turned to a 
 pillar of salt, she would most probably have become 
 a geyser.) 
 
 I don't know why, but she went on a visit to 
 Henderson after that evening in the arbour. 1 
 
The carpenter and the sewing-girl. 
 
Aftermath 207 
 
 suspect the governing power of Georgiana's wisdom 
 to have been put forth here, for within a few days 
 I received from Sylvia a letter which she asked me 
 not to show to Georgiana, and in which she invited 
 me to correspond with her secretly. The letter 
 was of a singularly glucose quality as to the 
 emotions. Throughout she referred to herself as 
 ' the exile/ although it was plain that she wrote in 
 the highest spirits ; and in concluding she openly 
 charged Georgiana with having given her a black 
 eye a most unspeakable phrase, surely picked up 
 in the schoolroom. As a return for the black eye, 
 Sylvia said that she had composed a poem to herself, 
 a copy of which she enclosed. 
 
 I quote Sylvia's commemorative verses upon 
 her wrongs and her banishment. They show 
 features of metrical excess, and can scarcely claim 
 to reflect the polish of her calmer art ; but they 
 are of value to me as proving that whatever the 
 rebuke Georgiana may have given, it had rebounded 
 from that elastic spirit. 
 
 LINES TO MYSELF 
 
 Oh, she was a lovely girl, 
 
 So pretty and so fair, 
 With gentle, love-lit eyes, 
 
 And wavy, dark brown hair. 
 
208 Aftermath 
 
 I loved the gentle girl, 
 
 But oh, I heaved a sigh 
 When first she told me she could see 
 
 Out of only one eye. 
 
 But soon I thought within myself 
 I'd better save my tear and sigh 
 
 To bestow upon an older person I know 
 Who has more than one eye. 
 
 She is brave and intelligent 
 
 Too. She is witty and wise. 
 She'll accomplish more now than another 
 
 person I know 
 Who has two eyes. 
 
 Ah, you need not pity her ! 
 
 She needs not your tear and sigh. 
 She'll make good use, I tell you, 
 
 Of her one remaining eye. 
 
 In the home where we are hastening, 
 In our eternal Home on High, 
 
 See that you be not rivalled 
 
 By the girl with only one eye. 1 
 
 1 Miss Sylvia could not have been speaking seriously when 
 she wrote that she had 'composed' this poem. It is known 
 to be the work of another hand, though Sylvia certainly tam 
 pered with the original and produced a version of her own. 
 
 J. L. A. 
 
Rosettes of yellow ribbon. 
 
Aftermath 2 1 1 
 
 Having thus dealt a thrust at Georgiana, Sylvia 
 seems to have turned in the spirit of revenge upon 
 her mother ; and when she came home some days 
 ago she brought with her a distant cousin of her 
 own age a boy, enormously fat whom she soon 
 began to decoy around the garden as her mother 
 had been decoyed by the general. Further 
 to satirise the similarity of lovers, she one day 
 pinned upon his shoulders rosettes of yellow 
 ribbon. 
 
 Sylvia has now passed from Scott to Moore ; 
 and several times lately she has made herself heard 
 in the garden with recitations to the fat boy on 
 the subject of Peris weeping before the gates of 
 Paradise, or warbling elegies under the green sea 
 in regard to Araby's daughter. There is real apt 
 ness in the latter reference ; for this boy's true 
 place in nature is the deep seas of the polar regions, 
 where animals are coated with thick tissues of 
 blubber. If Sylvia ever harpoons him, as she 
 seems seriously bent on doing, she will have to 
 drive her weapon in deep. 
 
 Yesterday she sprang across to me with her 
 hair flying and an open letter in her hand. 
 
 ' Oh, read it ! ' she cried, her face kindling. 
 
 It turned out to be a letter from the great Mr. 
 Prentice, of the Louisville Journal, accepting a 
 poem she had lately sent him, and assigning her a 
 fixed place among his vast and twinkling galaxy of 
 
212 Aftermath 
 
 Kentucky poetesses. The title of the poem was, 
 ' My Lover kneels to none but God.' 
 
 ' I infer from this/ I said gravely, * that your 
 lover is a Kentuckian.' 
 
 ' He is,' cried Sylvia. ' Oh, his peerless haughty 
 look ! ' 
 
 ' Well, I congratulate you, Sylvia,' I continued 
 mildly, ' upon having such an editor and such a 
 lover ; but I really think that your lover ought 
 to kneel a little to Mr. Prentice on this one 
 occasion/ 
 
 ' Never ! ' cried Sylvia. ' He kneels only to 
 God and me ! ' 
 
 * Some day when you meet Mr. Prentice, 
 Sylvia/ I continued further, ' you will want to be 
 very nice to him, and you might give him some 
 thing new to parse/ 
 
 Sylvia studied me dubiously : the subject is not 
 one that reassures her. 
 
 ' Because the other day I heard a very great 
 friend of Mr. Prentice's say of him that when he 
 was fifteen he could parse every sentence in Virgil 
 and Homer. And if he could do that then, think 
 what he must be able to do now, and what pleasure 
 his parsing passion must afford him ! ' 
 
 I would not imbitter Sylvia's joy by intimating 
 that perhaps Mr. Prentice's studious regard for 
 much of the poetry that he published was based 
 upon the fact that only he could parse it. 
 
She sprang across to 
 
Aftermath 215 
 
 There has been the most terrible trouble with 
 the raccoon. 
 
 This morning the carpenter tied him in my yard 
 as usual ; but some time during the forenoon, in a 
 fit of rage at his confinement, he pulled the collar 
 over his head and was gone. Whither and how 
 long no one knew ; but it seems that at last, by 
 dint of fences and trees, he attained to the un 
 approachable distinction of standing on the comb 
 of Mrs. Walters's house poor Mrs. Walters, who 
 has always held him in such deadly fear ! she 
 would as soon have had him on the comb of her 
 head. Advancing along the roof, he mounted the 
 chimney. Glancing down this, he perhaps reached 
 the conclusion that it was more like nature and a 
 hollow tree than anything that civilisation had yet 
 been able to produce, and he proceeded to descend 
 to the ground again by so dark and friendly a 
 passage. His progress was stopped by a bundle 
 of straw at the bottom, which he quickly tore 
 away, and having emerged from a grove of as 
 paragus in the fireplace, he found himself not 
 on the earth, but in Mrs. Walters's bedroom. In 
 what ways he now vented his ill-humour is not 
 clear ; but at last he climbed to the bed, white as 
 no fuller could white it, and he dripping with soot. 
 Here the ground beneath him was of such a sus 
 picious and unreasonable softness that he apparently 
 resolved to dig a hole and see what was the matter. 
 
2l6 
 
 Aftermath 
 
 In the course of his excavation he reached Mrs. 
 Walters's feather-bed, upon which he must have 
 
 Then her eyes caught sight. 
 
 fallen with fresh violence, tooth and nail, in the 
 idea that so many feathers could not possibly mean 
 feathers only. 
 
What is it, Mrs. Walters ? ' 
 
Aftermath 219 
 
 It was about this time that Mrs. Walters 
 returned from town, having left every window 
 closed and every door locked, as is her custom. 
 She threw open her door and started in, but paused, 
 being greeted by a snow-storm of goose feathers 
 that filled the air and now drifted outward. 
 
 c Why, what on earth is the matter ? * she 
 exclaimed, peering in, blank with bewilderment. 
 Then her eyes caught sight of what had once been 
 her bed. Sitting up in it was the raccoon, his.long 
 black jaws bearded with down, his head and ears 
 stuck about with feathers, and his eyes blazing 
 green with defiance. 
 
 She slammed and locked the door. 
 
 4 Run for the sheriff ! ' she cried, in terror, to 
 the boy who had brought her market basket ; and 
 she followed him as he fled. 
 
 ' What is it, Mrs. Walters ? ' asked the sheriff, 
 sternly, meeting her and bringing the handcuffs. 
 
 * There's somebody in my bed ! ' she cried, 
 wringing her hands. ' I believe it's a .' 
 
 1 It's my 'coon,' said the carpenter, laughing ; 
 for by this time we were all gathered together. 
 
 * What a foolish 'coon ! ' said the sewing-girl. 
 
 ' Oh, Mrs. Walters ! You are like Little Red 
 Riding-hood ! ' said Sylvia. 
 
 ' 1 can't arrest a 'coon, madam ! ' exclaimed the 
 sheriff, red in the neck at being made ridiculous. 
 
 * Then arrest the carpenter ! ' cried poor, un- 
 
220 Aftermath 
 
 happy, excited Mrs. Walters, bursting into tears 
 and hiding her face on Georgiana's shoulder. 
 
 And among us all Georgiana was the only com 
 forter. She laid aside her own work for that day, 
 spent the rest of it as Samaritan to her desperately 
 wounded neighbour, and at nightfall, over the bed, 
 now peaceful and snowy once more, she spread a 
 marvellous priceless quilt that she had long been 
 making to exhibit at the approaching World's Fair 
 at New York. 
 
 < Georgiana/ I said, as I walked home with her 
 at bedtime, ' it seems to me that things happen in 
 order to show you off.' 
 
 * Only think ! ' Georgiana replied ; ' she will 
 never get into bed again without a shiver and a 
 glance at the chimney. I begrudge her the quilt 
 for one reason ; it has a piece of one of your old 
 satin waistcoats in it.' 
 
 * Did she tell you that she had had those bed 
 clothes ever since her marriage ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; but I have always felt that she couldn't 
 have been married very long/ 
 
 ' How long should you think ? ' 
 
 < Oh, well ' 
 
 1 And yet she certainly has the clearest possible 
 idea of Mr. Walters. I imagine that very few 
 women ever come to know their husbands as per 
 fectly as Mrs. Walters knew hers.' 
 
 ' Or perhaps wish to.' 
 
The sagacious old soul. 
 
Ill 
 
 EVERAL earthquakes have lately 
 been felt in this part of the 
 globe. Coming events cast 
 their shocks before. 
 
 The end of August the 
 night before my marriage. 
 
 The news of it certainly 
 came like the shock of an 
 earthquake to many people of the town, who 
 know perfectly well that no woman will allow the 
 fruit and flowers to be carried off a place as a man 
 will. The sagacious old soul who visits me yearly 
 for young pie -plant actually hurried out and 
 begged for a basketful of the roots at once, thus 
 taking time -and the rhubarb by the forelock. 
 And the old epicurean harpy whose passion is 
 asparagus, having accosted me gruffly on the 
 street with an inquiry as to the truth of my 
 engagement and been quietly assured how true it 
 was, informed me to my face that any man 
 situated as happily as I am was an infernal fool 
 
224 Aftermath 
 
 to entangle himself with a wife, and bade me a 
 curt and everlasting good -morning on the spot. 
 Yet every day the theme of this old troubadour's 
 talk around the hotels is female entanglements 
 mendacious, unwifely, and for him unavailing. 
 
 Through divers channels some of my fellow- 
 creatures specimens of the most dreadful prose 
 have let me know that upon marrying I shall 
 forfeit their usurious regard. As to them, I shall 
 relapse into the privacy of an orchard that has 
 been plucked of its fruit. But my wonderment 
 has grown on the other hand at the number of 
 those to whom, as the significant unit of a family 
 instead of a bachelor zero, I have now acquired a 
 sterling mercantile valuation. Upon the whole, 
 I may fairly compute that my relation to the 
 human race has been totally changed by the little 
 I may cease to give away and by the less that I 
 shall need to buy. 
 
 And Mrs. Walters ! Although I prefer to 
 think of Mrs. Walters as a singer, owing to her 
 unaccountable powers of reminiscential vocalisa 
 tion, I have upon occasion classified her among 
 the waders ; and certainly, upon the day when 
 my engagement to Georgiana transpired, she 
 waded not only around the town but all over it, 
 sustained by a buoyancy of spirit that enabled her 
 to keep her head above water in depths where her 
 feet no longer touched the bottom. 
 
Aftermath 225 
 
 It was the crowning triumph of this vacant 
 soul's life to boast that she had made this match ; 
 and for the sake of giving her so much happiness, 
 I think I should have been willing to marry 
 Georgiana whether I loved her or not. 
 
 So we are all happy : Sylvia, who thus enters 
 upon a family right to my flowers and to the dis 
 tinction of being the only Miss Cobb ; Dilsy, 
 who, while gathering vegetables about the garden, 
 long ago began to receive little bundles of quilt 
 pieces thrown down to her with a smile and the 
 right word from the window above ; and Jack, 
 who is to drive us on our bridal- trip to the Blue 
 Lick Springs, where he hopes to renew his 
 scientific studies upon the maxillary bones. I 
 have hesitated between Blue Lick and Mud Lick, 
 though to a man in my condition there can be no 
 great difference between blue and mud. And I 
 had thought of the Harrodsburg Springs, but the 
 negro musicians there were lately hurried off to 
 Canada by the underground railway, out of which 
 fact has grown a lawsuit for damages between the 
 proprietor and his abolitionist guest. 
 
 A few weeks ago I entrusted a secret to 
 Georgiana. I told her that before she conde 
 scended to shine upon this part of the world 
 now the heavenlier part I had been engaged 
 upon certain researches and discoveries relating 
 
 Q 
 
226 Aftermath 
 
 to Kentucky birds, especially to the Kentucky 
 warbler. I admitted that these studies had been 
 wretchedly put aside under the more pressing 
 necessity of fixing the attention of all my powers, 
 ornithological and other, upon her garden window. 
 But as I placed specimens of my notes and draw 
 ings in her hand, I remarked gravely that after 
 our marriage I should be ready to push my work 
 forward without delay. 
 
 All this was meant to give her a delightful 
 surprise ; and indeed she examined the evidences 
 of my undertaking with devouring and triumphant 
 eagerness. But what was my amazement when 
 she handed them back in silence, and with a face 
 as white, though as fragrant, as a rose. 
 
 ' 1 have distressed you, Georgiana ! ' I cried, 
 4 and my only thought had been to give you 
 pleasure. I am always doing something wrong ! ' 
 
 She closed her eyes and passed her fingers 
 searchingly across her brow, as we sometimes 
 instinctively try to brush away our cares. Then 
 she sat looking down rather pitifully at her palms, 
 as they lay in her lap. 
 
 'You have shared your secret with me,' she 
 said solemnly, at length. ' I'll share mine with 
 you. It is the only fear that I have ever felt 
 regarding our future. It has never left me ; and 
 what you have just shown me fills me with terror.' 
 
 I sat aghast. 
 
Specimens ofmj notes and di 
 
Aftermath 229 
 
 ' I am not deceived/ she continued ; ' you have 
 not forgotten nature. It draws you more power 
 fully than anything else in the world. Whenever 
 you speak of it, you say the right thing, you find 
 the right word, you get the right meaning. With 
 nature alone you are perfectly natural. Towards 
 society you show your shabby, awkward, trivial, 
 uncomfortable side. But these drawings, these 
 notes there lies your power, your gift, your 
 home. You truly belong to the woodsmen/ 
 
 I listened to this as to fresh talk about a 
 stranger. 
 
 ' Do you not foresee what will happen ? ' she 
 went on, with emotion. 'After we have been 
 married a while you will begin to wander off at 
 first for part of a day, then for a day, then for a 
 day and a night, then for days and nights together. 
 That was the way with Audubon, that was the 
 way with Wilson, that is the way with Thoreau, 
 that will be the way with all whom nature draws 
 as it draws you. And me think of me at 
 home ! A woman not able to go with you ! Not 
 able to wade the creeks and swim the rivers ! Not 
 able to sleep out in the brown leaves, to endure 
 the rain, the cold, the travel ! And so I shall 
 never be able to fill your life with mine as you fill 
 mine with yours. As time passes, I shall fill it less 
 and less. Every spring nature will be just as young 
 to you ; I shall be always older. The water you 
 
230 Aftermath 
 
 love ripples, never wrinkles. I shall cease rippling 
 and begin wrinkling. No matter what happens, 
 each summer the birds get fresh feathers ; only 
 think how my old ones will never drop out. I 
 shall want you to go on with your work. If I am 
 to be your wife, I must be wings to you. But 
 think of compelling me to furnish you the wings 
 with which to leave me ! What is a little book on 
 Kentucky birds in comparison with my happiness ! ' 
 She was so deeply moved that my one desire 
 was to uproot her fears on the spot. 
 
 * Then there shall be no little book on Kentucky 
 birds ! ' I cried. ' I'll throw these things into the 
 fire as soon as I go home. Only say what you 
 wish me to be, Georgiana/ I continued, laughing, 
 ' and I'll be it if it's the town pump/ 
 
 * Then if I could only be the town well/ she 
 said, with a poor little effort to make a heavy heart 
 all at once go merrily "again. 
 
 Bent on making it go merrily as long as I shall 
 live, the following day I called out to her at the 
 window : 
 
 ' Georgiana, I'm improving. I'm getting along/ 
 
 c What do you mean ? ' she asked. 
 
 4 Well, in town this morning they chose me as 
 one of the judges of vegetables at the fair next 
 month. I said, " Gentlemen, I expect to be 
 married before that time, and I do not intend to 
 be separated from my wife. Will she have the 
 
Aftermath 231 
 
 privilege of accompanying me among these com 
 peting vegetables ? " And last month they made 
 me director of a turnpike company I suppose 
 because it runs through my farm. To-day at a 
 meeting of the directors I said, " Gentlemen, how 
 far is this turnpike to run ? I will direct it to the 
 end of my farm and not a step farther. I do not 
 wish to be separated from my wife." 
 
 Georgian a has teased me a good deal in my 
 life. It is well to let a woman taste of the tree of 
 knowledge whose fruit she is fond of dispensing. 
 
 ' You'd better be careful ! ' she said archly. 
 * Remember, I haven't married you yet. 1 
 
 ' 1 am careful,' I replied. ' I haven't married 
 you yet, either ! My idea, Georgiana,' I con 
 tinued, ' is to plant a grove and raise cocoons. 
 That would gratify my love of nature and your 
 fancy for silk dresses. I could have my silk 
 woven and spun in our manufactory at Newport, 
 Kentucky ; and you know that we couldn't 
 possibly lose each other among the mulberry- 
 trees.' 
 
 * You'd better take care ! ' she repeated. * Do 
 you expect to talk to me in this style after we are 
 married ? ' 
 
 ' That will all depend upon how you talk to 
 me,' I answered. * But I have always understood 
 married life to be the season when the worm 
 begins to turn,' 
 
2 3 2 Aftermath 
 
 Despite my levity, I have been secretly stricken 
 with remorse at the monstrous selfishness that lay 
 coiled like a canker in my words. I was really no 
 better than those husbands who virtually say to 
 their wives : 
 
 ' While I was trying to win you, the work of 
 my life was secondary you were everything. 
 Now that I have won you, it will be everything, 
 and you must not stand in the way.' 
 
 But the thought is insupportable that Georgiana 
 should not be happy with me at any cost. I 
 divine now the reason of the effort she has long 
 been making to win me from nature ; therefore 
 of my own free will I have privately set about 
 changing the character of my life with the idea 
 of suiting it to some other work in which she too 
 may be content. And thus it has come about 
 that during the August now ended always the 
 month of the year in which my nature will go its 
 solitary way and seek its woodland peace I have 
 hung about the town as one who is offered for 
 hire to a master whom he has never seen and for 
 a work that he hates to do. Many of the affairs 
 that engage the passions of my fellow-beings are 
 to me as the gray stubble through which I walk in 
 the September fields the rotting wastage of 
 harvests long since gathered in. At other times 
 I drive myself upon their sharp and piercing 
 conflicts as a bird is blown uselessly again and 
 
Aftermath 233 
 
 again by some too strong a wind upon the spikes 
 of the thorn. I hear the angry talk of our 
 farmers and merchants, I listen to the fiery 
 orations of our statesmen and the warning 
 sermons of our divines. (Think of a human 
 creature calling himself a divine.) The troubled 
 ebb and flow of events in Kentucky, the larger 
 movements of unrest throughout the great re 
 public these have replaced for me the old com- 
 munings with nature that were full of music and 
 of peace. 
 
 Evening after evening now I turn my con 
 versations with Georgiana as gaily as I can upon 
 some topic of the time. She is not always pleased 
 with what I style my researches into civilised 
 society. One evening in particular our talk was 
 long and serious, beginning in shallows and then 
 steering for deep waters. 
 
 4 Well, Georgiana,' I had said, ' Miss Delia 
 Webster has suddenly returned to her home in 
 Vermont.' 
 
 * And who is Miss Delia Webster ? ' she had 
 inquired, with unmistakable acidity. 
 
 ' Miss Delia Webster is the lady who was 
 sentenced to the State penitentiary for abducting 
 our silly old servants into Ohio. But the jury of 
 Kentucky noblemen who returned the verdict 
 being married men, and long used to forgiving a 
 woman anything petitioned the governor to 
 
234 Aftermath 
 
 pardon Miss Delia on the ground that she belongs 
 to the sex that can do no wrong and be punished 
 for it. Whereupon the governor, seasoned to the 
 like large experience, pardoned the lady. Where 
 upon Miss Webster, having passed a few weeks in 
 the penitentiary, left, as I stated, for her home in 
 Vermont, followed by her father, who does not, 
 however, seem to have been able to overtake her.' 
 
 * If she'd been a man, now,' suggested 
 Georgiana. 
 
 ' If she'd been a man she would have shared 
 the fortunes of her principal, the Reverend Mr. 
 Fairbanks, who has not returned to his home in 
 Ohio, and will not for fifteen years.' 
 
 ' Do you think it an agreeable subject of con 
 versation ? ' inquired Georgiana. 
 
 ' Then I will change it,' I said. ' The other 
 day the editor of the Smithland Bee was walking 
 along the street with his little daughter and was 
 shot down by a doctor.' 
 
 ' Horrible ! ' exclaimed Georgiana. ' Why ? ' 
 
 'Self-defence,' I answered. 'And last week 
 in the court-room in Mount Sterling a man was 
 shot by his brother-in-law during the sitting of 
 court.' 
 
 < And why did he kill him ? ' 
 
 ' Self-defence ! ' I answered. ' And in Versailles 
 a man down in the street was assassinated with a 
 rifle fired from the garret of a tavern. Self- 
 
Aftermath 235 
 
 defence. And in Lexington a young man. shot 
 and killed another for drawing his handkerchief 
 from his pocket. Self-defence ! the sense of the 
 court being that whatever such an action might 
 mean in other civilised countries, in Kentucky and 
 under the circumstances the young fellows were 
 quarrelling it naturally betokened the reaching 
 for a revolver. Thus in Kentucky, Georgiana, 
 and during a heated discussion, a man cannot blow 
 his nose but at the risk of his life.' 
 
 ' I'll see that you never carry a handkerchief,' 
 said Georgiana. ' So remember don't you ever 
 reach for one ! ' 
 
 ' And the other day in Eddysville,' I went on, 
 * two men fought a duel by going to a doctor's 
 shop and having him open a vein in the arm of 
 each. Just before they fainted from exhaustion 
 they made signs that their honour was satisfied, so 
 the doctor tied up the veins. I see that you don't 
 believe it, but it's true.' 
 
 c And why did they fight a duel in that way ? ' 
 
 ' I give it up,' I said, c unless it was in self- 
 defence. We are a most remarkable society of 
 self-defenders. But if every man who fights in 
 Kentucky is merely engaged in warding off a 
 murderous attack upon his life, who does all the 
 murderous attacking ? You know the seal of our 
 commonwealth : two gentlemen in evening dress 
 shaking hands and with one voice declaring, 
 
236 Aftermath 
 
 " United we stand, divided we fall." So far as the 
 temper of our time goes, these two gentlemen 
 might well be represented as twenty paces apart, 
 and as calling out, " United, we stood ; divided, 
 you fall ! " Killings and duels ! Killings and 
 duels ! Do you think we need these as proofs of 
 courage ? Do you suppose that the Kentuckians 
 of our day are braver than the pioneers ? Do you 
 suppose that any people ever elevated its ideal of 
 courage in the eyes of the world by all the 
 homicides and all the duels that it could count ? 
 There is only one way in which any civilised 
 people has ever done that, only one way in which any 
 civilised people has ever been able to impress the 
 world very deeply with a belief in the reality and 
 the nobility of its ideal of courage : it is by the 
 warlike spirit of its men in times of war, and by 
 the peaceful spirit of its men in times of peace. 
 Only, you must add this : that when these times 
 of peace have come on, and it is no longer possible 
 for such a people to realise its ideal of courage in 
 arms, it is nevertheless driven to express the ideal 
 in other ways by monuments, arches, inscriptions, 
 statues, literature, pictures, all in honour of those 
 of their countrymen who lived the ideal before the 
 world and left it more lustrous in their dying. 
 That is the full reason why we know how brave a 
 people the Greeks were by their peaceful ways of 
 honouring valour in times of peace. And that in 
 
Aftermath 237 
 
 part is why no nation in the world doubts the 
 courage of the English, because when the English 
 are not righting they are for ever doing something 
 to honour those who have fought well. So that 
 they never have a peace but they turn it into 
 preparation for the next war. 
 
 * And that is why, as the outside world looks 
 in upon us to-day and sifts the evidence of whether 
 or not we are a brave people, it does not find proof 
 of this in our homicides and duels, but in the 
 spirit of our forefathers of the Revolution, in the 
 soldiers of the wilderness and of Indian warfare, 
 of the war of 1812, of the war with Mexico, at 
 Cerro Gordo, at Buena Vista, at Palo Alto, at 
 Resaca de la Palma. Wherever the Kentuckians 
 have fought as soldiers, many or few, on whatever 
 battle-field, in whatsoever cause, there you may see 
 whether they know what it is to be men, and 
 whether they have an ideal of courage that is worth 
 the name. 
 
 4 Then a few years ago in Frankfort twenty 
 thousand people followed to the grave the bodies 
 of the men who had fallen in Mexico. The State 
 has raised a monument to them, to the soldiers of 
 1812, to those who fought at the river Raisin. 
 The Legislature has ordered a medal to be struck 
 in honour of a boy who had defended his ensign. 
 No man can make a public speech in Kentucky 
 without mention of Encancion and Monterey, or 
 
238 Aftermath 
 
 of the long line of battles in which every generation 
 of our people has fought. This is the other proof 
 that in times of peace we do not forget. It is not 
 much, but it is of the right kind it is the soldier's 
 monument, it is the soldier's medal, it is the soldier's 
 funeral oration, it is the recognition by the people 
 of its ideal of courage in times of peace. And 
 with every other brave people this proof passes as 
 the sign universal. But our homicides and our 
 duels, nearly all of them brought about in the 
 name even under the fear of courage, what 
 effect have they had in giving us abroad our 
 reputation as a community ? I ask myself the 
 question, what if all the men who have killed their 
 personal enemies or been killed by them in Ken 
 tucky, and if all the men who have killed their 
 personal friends or been killed by them in Kentucky, 
 had spent their love of fighting and their love of 
 courage upon a monument to the Pioneers such 
 a monument as stands nowhere else in the world, 
 and might fitly stand in this State to commemorate 
 the winning of the West ? Would the world 
 think the better or the worse of the Kentucky 
 ideal of bravery ? 
 
 ' 1 had not meant to talk to you so long on this 
 subject/ I added, in apology, ' but I have been 
 thinking of these things lately since I have been so 
 much in town/ 
 
 ' I am interested/ said Georgiana ; ' and as I 
 
Aftermath 239 
 
 agree with you, we need not both speak.' But she 
 looked pained, and I sought to give a happier turn 
 to the conversation. 
 
 4 There is only one duel I ever heard of that 
 gave me any pleasure, and that one never came off. 
 A few years ago a Kentuckian wrote a political 
 satire on an Irishman in Illinois wrote it as a 
 widow. The Irishman wished to fight. The 
 widow offered to marry the Irishman, if such a 
 sacrifice would be accepted as satisfactory damages. 
 The Irishman sent a challenge, and the Kentuckian 
 chose cavalry broadswords of the largest size. He 
 was a giant ; he had the longest arms of any man 
 in Illinois : he could have mowed Erin down at 
 a stroke like a green milk-weed ; he had been 
 trained in duelling with oak-trees. You never 
 heard of him : his name is Abraham Lincoln/ 
 
 ' I have heard of him, and I have seen him 
 in Union County before I came here,' said 
 Georgiana, with enthusiasm. 
 
 c He came here once to hear Mr. Clay speak,' 
 I resumed ; * and I saw them walking together one 
 day under the trees at Ashland the two most 
 remarkable - looking men that I ever beheld 
 together.' 
 
 My few acres touch the many of the great 
 statesman. Georgiana and I often hear of the 
 movements of his life, as two little boats in a quiet 
 bay are tossed by the storms of the ocean. Any 
 
240 Aftermath 
 
 reference to him always makes us thoughtful, and 
 we fell silent now. 
 
 1 Georgiana,' I said at length, softly, ' it's all in 
 self-defence. I believe you promised to marry me 
 in self-defence.' 
 
 ' I did/ she said promptly. 
 
 1 Well, I certainly asked you in self-defence, 
 Miss Cobb/ I replied. * And now in a few days, 
 according to the usage of my time, I am going to 
 take your life even at the peril of my own. If 
 you desire, it is your privilege to examine the 
 deadly weapons before the hour of actual combat/ 
 and I held out my arms to her appealingly. 
 
 She bent her body delicately aside, as always. 
 
 ' 1 am upset/ she said discouragingly. ' You 
 have been abusing Kentucky.' 
 
 * Ah, that is the trouble ! ' I answered. * You 
 wish me to become more interested in my fellow- 
 creatures. And then you will not let me speak 
 of what they do. And the other day you told me 
 that I am not perfectly natural with anything but 
 nature. Nature is the only thing that is perfectly 
 natural with me. When I study nature there are 
 no delicate or dangerous or forbidden subjects. The 
 trees have no evasions. The weeds are honest. 
 Running water is not trying to escape. The sunsets 
 are not coloured with hypocrisy. The lightning 
 is not revenge. Everything stands forth in the 
 sincerity of its being, and nature invites me to 
 
Aftermath 241 
 
 exercise the absolute liberty of my mind upon all life. 
 I am bidden to master and proclaim whatsoever 
 truth she has fitted me to grasp. If I am worthy 
 to investigate, none is offended ; if I should be wise 
 enough to discover any law of nature, the entire 
 world would express its thanks. Imagine my 
 being assassinated because I had published a 
 complete report upon the life and habits of the 
 field-mouse ! ' 
 
 ' If one mouse published a report on the life and 
 habits of another, there'd be a fight all over the 
 field,' said Georgiana. 
 
 'A ridiculous extreme,' I replied. 'But after 
 you have grown used to study nature with absolute 
 freedom and absolute peace, think how human life 
 repels you. You may not investigate, you may 
 not speak out, you may not even think, you may 
 not even feel. You are not allowed to reveal what 
 is concealed, and you are required to conceal what 
 is revealed. Natural ! Have you ever known 
 any two men to be perfectly natural with each 
 other except when they were fighting ? As for 
 the men that I associate with every day, they 
 weigh their words out to one another as the 
 apothecary weighs his poisons, or the grocer his 
 gunpowder.' 
 
 ' You forget,' said Georgiana, c that we are living 
 in a very extraordinary time, when everybody is 
 sensitive and excited.' 
 
242 Aftermath 
 
 1 It is so always and everywhere,' I replied. 
 ' You may never study life as you study nature. 
 With men you must take your choice : liberty for 
 your mind and a prison for your body ; liberty for 
 your body and a prison for your mind. Nearly 
 all people choose the latter ; we know what becomes 
 of the few who do not/ 
 
 But this reference to the times led us to speak 
 slowly and solemnly of what all men now are 
 speaking : war that must come between the North 
 and the South. We agreed that it would come 
 from each side as a blazing torch to Kentucky, 
 which lies between the two, and is divided between 
 the two in love and hate to Kentucky, where a 
 soldier's life is always the ideal of a man's duty and 
 glory. 
 
 At last I felt that my time had come. 
 
 * Georgiana,' I said, ' there is one secret I have 
 never shared with you. It is the only fear I have 
 ever felt regarding our future. But, if there should 
 be a war you'd better know it now leave you or 
 not leave you, I am going to join the army/ 
 
 She grew white and faint with the thought of a 
 day to come. But at last she said : 
 
 4 Yes ; you must go/ 
 
 ' I know one thing/ I added, after a long 
 silence ; ' if I could do my whole duty as a Ken- 
 tuckian as an American citizen as a human 
 being I should have to fight on both sides/ 
 
Aftermath 243 
 
 I have thus set down in a poor way a part of 
 the only talk I ever had with Georgiana on these 
 subjects during the year 1851. 
 
 Yesterday, about sunset, the earth and sky were 
 beautiful with that fulness of peace which things 
 often attain at the moment before they alter and 
 end. The hour seemed to me the last serene 
 loveliness of summer, soon to be ruffled by gales 
 and blackened by frosts. 
 
 Georgiana stood at her window looking into 
 the west. The shadows of the trees in my 
 yard fell longer and longer across the garden 
 towards her. Darkest among these lay the 
 shapes of the cedars and the pines in which the 
 red -bird had lived. Her whole attitude be 
 spoke a mood surrendered to memory ; and I 
 felt sure that we two were thinking of the same 
 thing. 
 
 As she approached that mystical revelation of 
 life which must come with our marriage, Geor- 
 giana's gaiety has grown subtly overcast. It is as 
 if the wild strain in her were a little sad at having 
 to be captured at last ; and I too experience an 
 indefinable pain that it has become my lot to sub 
 due her in this way. The thought possesses me 
 that she submits to marriage because she cannot 
 live intimately with me and lavish her love upon 
 me in any other relation ; and therefore I draw 
 
244 Aftermath 
 
 back with awe from the idea of taking such pos 
 session of her as I will and must. 
 
 As she stood at her window yesterday evening 
 she caught sight of me across the yard and silently 
 beckoned. I went over and looked up at her, 
 waiting and smiling. 
 
 4 Well, what is it ? ' I asked at length, as her 
 eyes rested on me with the fulness of affection. 
 
 * Nothing. I wanted to see you standing down 
 there once more. Haven't you thought of it ? 
 This is the last time the last of the window, the 
 last of the garden, the end of the past. Every 
 thing after this will be so different. Aren't 
 you a little sorry that you are going to marry 
 me ? ' 
 
 * Will you allow me to fetch the minister this 
 instant ? ' 
 
 In the evening they put on her bridal dress and 
 sent over for me, and, drawing the parlour doors 
 aside, blinded me with the sight of her standing in 
 there, as if waiting in duty for love to claim its 
 own. As I saw her then I have but to close my 
 eyes to see her now. I scarce know why, but that 
 vision of her haunts my mind mysteriously. 
 
 I see a fresh snow-drift in a secret green valley 
 between dark mountains. The sun must travel far 
 and high to reach it ; but when it does, its rays 
 pour down from near the zenith and are most 
 powerful and warm ; then in a little while the 
 
Aftermath 245 
 
 whole valley is green again and a white mist, rising 
 from it, muffles the face of the sun. 
 
 Oh, Georgiana ! Georgiana ! Do not fade 
 away from me as I draw you to me. 
 
 My last solitary candle flickers in the socket : 
 it is in truth the end of the past. 
 
IV 
 
 AST summer I felled a 
 dead oak in the woods 
 and had the heart cf 
 him stored away for my 
 winter fuel : a series of 
 burnt -offer ings to the 
 worshipful spirit of my 
 hearth - stone. There 
 should have been several 
 of these offerings al 
 ready, for October is almost ended now, and it 
 is the month during which the first cool nights 
 come on in Kentucky and the first fires are lighted. 
 
Aftermath 247 
 
 A few twilights ago I stood at my yard gate 
 watching the red domes of the forest fade into 
 shadow and listening to the cawing of crows under 
 the low gray of the sky as they hurried home. A 
 chill crept over the earth. It was a fitting hour; 
 I turned in-doors and summoned Georgiana. 
 
 4 We will light our first fire together,' I said, 
 straining her to my heart. 
 
 Kneeling gaily down, we piled the wood in the 
 deep, wide chimney. Each of us then brought a 
 live coal, and together we started the blaze. I had 
 drawn Georgiana's chair to one side of the fireplace, 
 mine opposite ; and with the candle still unlit we 
 now sat silently watching the flame spread. What 
 need was there of speech? We understood. 
 
 By-and-by some broken wreaths of smoke floated 
 outward into the room. My sense caught the 
 fragrance. I sniffed it with a rush of memories. 
 Always that smell of smoke, with other wild, clean, 
 pungent odours of the woods, had been strangely 
 pleasant to me. I remember thinking of them 
 when a boy as incense perpetually and reverently 
 set free by nature towards the temple of the skies. 
 They aroused in me even then the spirit of medi 
 tation on the mystery of the world ; and later they 
 became inwrought with the pursuit and enjoyment 
 of things that had been the delight of my life for 
 many years. So that coming now, at the very 
 moment when I was dedicating myself to my 
 
248 Aftermath 
 
 hearth-stone and to domestic life, this smell of 
 wood smoke reached me like a message from my 
 past. For an instant ungovernable longing surged 
 over me to return to it. For an instant I did 
 return ; and once more I lay drowsing before my 
 old camp-fires in the autumn woods, with the 
 frosted trees draping their crimson curtains around 
 me on the walls of space and the stars flashing thick 
 in the ceiling of my bed-chamber. 
 
 My dog, who had stretched himself at my feet 
 before the young blaze, inhaled the smoke also 
 with a full breath of reminiscence, and lay watch 
 ing me out of the corner of his eye I fancied 
 with reproachful constancy. I caught his look 
 with a sense of guilt, and glanced across at 
 Georgiana. 
 
 Her gaze was buried deep in the flames. And 
 how sweet her face was, how inexpressibly at peace. 
 She had folded the wings of her whole life, and 
 sat by the hearth as still as a brooding dove. No 
 past laid its disturbing touch upon her shoulder. 
 Instead, I could see that if there were any flight 
 of her mind away from the present it was into the 
 future a slow, tranquil flight across the years, 
 with all the happiness that they must bring. As 
 I set my own thoughts to journey after hers, 
 suddenly the scene in the room changed, and I 
 beheld Georgiana as an old, old lady, with locks 
 of silver on her temples, spectacles, a tiny sock 
 
1 beheld Georgiar.a as an old, old lady. 
 
Aftermath 251 
 
 stuck through with needles on her knee, and her 
 face finely wrinkled, but still blooming with un 
 conquerable gaiety and youth. 
 
 ' How sweet that smoke is, Georgiana,' I said, 
 rousing us both, and feeling sure that she will 
 understand me in whatsoever figure I may speak. 
 ' And how much we are wasting when we change 
 this old oak back into his elements smoke and 
 light, heat and ashes. What a magnificent work 
 he was on natural history, requiring hundreds of 
 years for his preparation and completion, written 
 in a language so learned that not the wisest can 
 read him wisely, and enduringly bound in the 
 finest of tree calf! It is a dishonour to speak of 
 him as a work. He was a doctor of philosophy ! 
 He should have been a college professor ! Think 
 how he could have used his own feet for a series 
 of lectures on the laws of equilibrium, capillary 
 attraction, or soils and moisture ! Was there ever 
 a head that knew as much as his about the action 
 of light? Did any human being ever more 
 grandly bear the burdens of life or better face the 
 tempests of the world ? What did he not know 
 about birds ? He had carried them in his arms 
 and nurtured them in his bosom for a thousand 
 years. Even his old coat, with all its rents and 
 patches what roll of papyrus was ever so crowded 
 with the secrets of knowledge ? The august 
 antiquarian ! The old king ! Can you imagine 
 
2 $2 Aftermath 
 
 a funeral urn too noble for his ashes ? But to 
 what base uses, Georgiana ! He will not keep the 
 wind away any longer ; we shall change him into 
 a kettle of lye with which to whiten our floors/ 
 
 What Georgiana's reply could have been I do 
 not know, for at that moment Mrs. Walters 
 flitted in. 
 
 * I saw through the windows that you had a 
 fire,' she said volubly, ' and ran over to get warm. 
 And, oh yes, I wanted to tell you 
 
 * Stop, please, Mrs. Walters ! ' I cried, starting 
 towards her with an outstretched hand and a warn 
 ing laugh. * You have not yet been formally in 
 troduced to this room, and a formal introduction 
 is necessary. You must be made acquainted with 
 a primary law of its being ' ; and as Mrs. Walters 
 paused, dropping her hands into her lap and re 
 garding me with an air of mystification, I went on : 
 
 ' When I had repairs made in my house last 
 summer, I had this fireplace rebuilt, and I ordered 
 an inscription to be burnt into the bricks. We 
 expect to ask that all our guests will kindly notice 
 this inscription in order to avoid accidents or mis 
 understandings. So I beg of you not to speak 
 until you have read the words over the fireplace.' 
 
 Mrs. Walters wonderingly read the following 
 legend, running in an arch across the chimney : 
 
 frtenlJ, arounfo tjjese fjeartfj^stones speak no ein'l 
 of ang creature. 
 
Aftermath 253 
 
 She wheeled towards me with instantaneous 
 triumph. 
 
 ' I'm glad you put it there ! ' she cried. ' I'm 
 glad you put it there ! It will teach them a lesson 
 about their talking. If there is one thing I cannot 
 stand it is a gossip.' 
 
 I have observed that a fowl before a looking- 
 glass will fight its own image. 
 
 4 Take care, Mrs. Walters ! ' I said gently. 
 * You came very near to violating the law just 
 then.' 
 
 ' He meant it for me, Mrs. Walters,' said 
 Georgiana, fondling our neighbour's hand, and 
 looking at me with an awful rebuke. 
 
 ' I meant it for myself,' I said. c And now it 
 is doing its best to make me feel like a Pharisee. 
 So I hasten to add that there are other rooms in 
 the house in which it will be allowed human nature 
 to assert itself in this long-established, hereditary, 
 and ineradicable right. Our guests have only to 
 intimate that they can no longer restrain their 
 propensities and we will conduct them to another 
 chamber. Mrs. Moss and I will occasionally make 
 use of these chambers ourselves, to relieve the 
 tension of too much virtue. But it is seriously 
 our idea to have one room in the house where we 
 shall feel safe, both as respects ourselves and as 
 respects others, from the discomfort of evil speak 
 ing. As long as these walls stand or we dwell in 
 
254 
 
 Aftermath 
 
 them, this is to be the room of charity and kind 
 ness to all creatures.' 
 
 Although we exerted ourselves, conversation 
 
 Dropped into a cough. 
 
 flagged during the visit of Mrs. Walters. Several 
 times she began to speak, but, with a frightened 
 look at the fireplace, dropped into a cough, or 
 
Aftermath 255 
 
 cleared her throat in a way that called to mind the 
 pleasing habit of Sir Roger de Coverley in the 
 Gardens of Gray's Inn. 
 
 Later in the evening other guests came. Upon 
 each the law of that fireside was lightly yet gravely 
 impressed. They were in the main the few friends 
 I know in whom such an outward check would 
 call for the least inner restraint ; nevertheless, on 
 what a footing of confidence it placed our con 
 versation ! To what a commanding level we were 
 safely lifted ! For nothing so releases the best 
 powers of the mind as the understanding that the 
 entire company are under bond to keep the peace 
 of the finest manners and of perfect breeding. 
 
 And Georgiana how she shone ! I knew that 
 she could perfectly fill a window ; I now see that 
 she can as easily fill a room. Our bodies were 
 grouped about the fireplace ; our minds centred 
 around her, and she flashed like the evening star 
 along our intellectual pathway. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Walters talked a long time 
 to Georgiana on the edge of the porch. 
 
 Thus my wife and I have begun life together. 
 I think that most of our evenings will be spent in 
 the room dedicated to a kind word for universal 
 life. No matter how closely the warring forces of 
 existence, within or without, have pressed upon us 
 elsewhere, when we enter there we enter peace. 
 We shall be walled in from all darkness of what- 
 
2 $6 Aftermath 
 
 soever meaning ; our better selves will be the sole 
 guests of those luminous hours. And surely no 
 greater good -fortune can befall any household 
 than to escape an ignoble evening. To attain a 
 noble one is like lying calmly down to sleep on a 
 mountain-top towards which our feet have struggled 
 upward amid enemies all day long. 
 
 Although we have now been two months married, 
 I have not yet captured the old uncapturable loveli 
 ness of nature which has always led me and still 
 leads me on in the person of Georgiana. I know 
 but too well now that I never shall. The charm 
 in her which I pursue, yet never overtake, is part 
 and parcel of that ungraspable beauty of the world 
 which for ever foils the sense while it sways the 
 spirit of that elusive, infinite splendour of God 
 which flows from afar into all terrestrial things, 
 filling them as colour fills the rose. Even while I 
 live with Georgiana in the closest of human re 
 lationships, she retains for me the uncomprehended 
 brightness and freshness of a dream that does not 
 end and has no waking. 
 
 This but edges yet more sharply the eagerness 
 of my desire to enfold her entire self into mine. 
 We have been a revelation to each other, but the 
 revelation is not complete ; there are curtains 
 behind curtains, which one by one we seek to lift 
 as we penetrate more deeply into the discoveries 
 of our union. Sometimes she will seek me out, 
 
Aftermath 257 
 
 and, sitting beside me, put her arm around my 
 neck and look long into my eyes, full of a sort of 
 beautiful, divine wonder at what I am, at what love 
 is, at what it means for a man and woman to live 
 together as we live. Yet, folded to me thus, she 
 also craves a still larger fulfilment. Often she 
 appears to be vainly hovering on the other side of 
 a too solid sphere, seeking an entrance to where I 
 really am. Even during the intimate silences of 
 the night we try to reach one another through the 
 throbbing walls of flesh we but cling together 
 across the lone, impassable gulfs of individual 
 being. ^ 
 
 During these October nights the moon has 
 reached its fulness and the earth been flooded 
 with beauty. 
 
 Our bed is placed near a window ; and as the 
 planet sinks across the sky its rays stream through 
 the open shutter and fall upon Georgiana in her 
 sleep. Sometimes I lie awake for the sole chance 
 of seeing them float upon her hair, pass lingeringly 
 across her face, and steal holily downward along her 
 figure. How august she is in her purity ! the 
 whiteness of the fairest cloud that brushes the silver 
 ing orb is as pitch to the whiteness of her nature. 
 
 The other night as I lay watching her thus, 
 and while the lower part of the bed remained in 
 deep shadow, I could see that the thin covering had 
 slipped aside, leaving Georgiana's feet exposed. 
 

 258 Aftermath 
 
 With a start of pain I recollected an old story 
 about her childhood : that one day for the sake of 
 her rights she had received a wound in one of her 
 feet how serious I had never known, but perhaps 
 deforming, irremediable. My head was raised on 
 the pillow ; the moonlight was moving down that 
 way ; it would cross her feet ; it would reveal the 
 truth. 
 
 I turned my face away and closed my eyes. 
 
IS nearly dark when I reach home 
 from town these January evenings. 
 However the cold may sting 
 the face and dart inward to the 
 marrow, Georgiana is waiting at 
 the yard gate to meet me, so 
 hooded and shawled and ringed 
 about with petticoats like a 
 tree within its layers of bark 
 that she looks like the most 
 thick -set of ordinary -sized 
 women ; for there is a heav 
 enly but very human secret 
 hiding in this household now, and she is thought 
 fully keeping it. 
 
260 Aftermath 
 
 We press our half-frozen cheeks together, as 
 red as wine-sap apples, and grope for each other's 
 hand through our big lamb's-wool mittens, and 
 warm our hearts with the laughter in each other's 
 eyes. One evening she feigned to be mounted on 
 guard, pacing to and fro inside the gate, against 
 which rested an enormous icicle. When I started 
 to enter she seized the icicle, presented arms, and 
 demanded the countersign. 
 
 ' Love, captain/ I said. ' If it be not that, slay 
 me at your feet ! ' 
 
 She threw away her great white spear and put 
 her arms around my neck. 
 
 * It is " Peace," ' she said. ' But I desert to the 
 enemy.' 
 
 Without going to my fireside that evening I 
 hurried on to the stable ; for I do not relinquish to 
 my servants the office of feeding my stock. 
 
 Believe in the divine rights of kings I never 
 shall, except in the divine right to be kingly men, 
 which all men share ; but truly a divine right lies 
 for any man in the ownership of a comfortable barn 
 in winter. It is the feudal castle of the farm to the 
 lower animals, who dwell in the Dark Ages of their 
 kind dwell on and on in affection, submission, and 
 trust, while their lord demands of them their 
 labour, their sustenance, their life. 
 
 Of a winter's day, when these poor serfs have 
 been scattered over the portionless earth, how often 
 
Aftermath 261 
 
 they look towards this fortress and lift up their 
 voices with cries for night to come ; the horses, 
 ruffled and shivering, with their tails to the wind, 
 as they snap their frosted fodder, or paw through 
 the rime to the frozen grass underneath, causing 
 their icy fetlocks to rattle about their hoofs ; the 
 cattle, crowded to leeward of some deep-buried 
 haystack, the exposed side of the outermost of 
 them white with whirling flakes ; the sheep, turning 
 their pitiful, trusting eyes about them over the 
 fields of storm in earth and sky. 
 
 What joy at nightfall to gather them home to 
 food and warmth and rest ! If there is ever a time 
 when I feel myself a mediaeval lord to trusty 
 vassals, it is then. Of a truth I pass entirely over 
 the Middle Ages, joining my life to the most 
 ancient dwellers of the plains, and becoming a 
 simple father of flocks and herds. When they 
 have been duly stabled according to their kinds, I 
 climb to the crib in the barn and create a great 
 landslide of the fat ears that is like laughter ; and 
 then from every stall what a hearty, healthy chorus 
 of cries and petitions responds to that laughter of the 
 corn ! What squeals and grunts persuasive beyond 
 the realms of rhetoric ! What a blowing of 
 mellow horns from the cows ! And the quick 
 nostril trumpet-call of the horse, how eager, how 
 dependent, yet how commanding ? As I mount 
 to the top of the pile, if I ever feel myself a royal 
 
262 Aftermath 
 
 personage it is then ; I ascend my throne ; I am 
 king of the corn ; and there is not a brute or 
 peasant in my domain that does not worship me as 
 a ruler of heaven and earth. 
 
 Or I love to catch up the bundles of oats as 
 they are thrown down from the loft and send them 
 whirling through the cutting-box so fast that they 
 pour into the big baskets like streams of melted 
 gold ; or, grasping my pitchfork, I stuff the ricks 
 over the mangers with the rich aromatic hay until 
 I am as warm as when I loaded the waggons with 
 it at midsummer noons. 
 
 With what sweet sounds and odours now the 
 whole barn is filled ! How robust, clean, well- 
 meaning are my thoughts ! In what comfort of 
 mind I can turn to my own roof and store ! 
 
 This hour in my stable is the only one out of 
 the twenty-four left to me in which my feet may 
 cross the boundary of human life into the world 
 of the other creatures ; for I have gone into 
 business in town to gratify Georgiana. I think 
 little enough of this business otherwise. Every 
 day I pass through the groove of it with no more 
 intellectual satisfaction in it than I feel an intel 
 lectual satisfaction in passing my legs through my 
 pantaloons of a morning. But a man can study 
 nothing in nature that does not outreach his powers. 
 
 If time is left after feeding I veer off from the 
 barn to the wood-pile, for I love to wield an axe, 
 
Aftermath 263 
 
 besides having a taste to cut my own wood for the 
 nightly burning. This evening I could but stop 
 to notice how the turkeys in the tree-tops looked 
 like enormous black nutgalls on the limbs, except 
 that the wind whisked their tails about as cheerily 
 as though they were already hearth-brooms. 
 
 It is well for my poor turkeys that their tails 
 contain no moisture ; for on a night like this they 
 would freeze stiff, and the least incautious move 
 ment of a fowl in the morning would serve to 
 crack its tail off up to the pope's nose. 
 
 As I set my foot on the door-step, I went back 
 to see whether the two snow-birds were in their 
 nightly places under the roof of the porch the 
 guardian spirits of our portal. There they were, 
 wedged each into a snug corner as tightly as 
 possible, so not to break their feathers, and leaving 
 but one side exposed. Happening to have some 
 wheat in my pocket, I pitched the grains up to 
 the projecting ledge ; they can take their breakfast 
 in bed when they wake in the morning. Little 
 philosophers of the frost, who even in their over 
 coats combine the dark side and the white side of 
 life into a wise and weathering gray the no less 
 fit external for a man. 
 
 The thought of them to-night put me strongly 
 in mind of a former habit of mine to walk under 
 the cedar-trees at such dark winter twilights and 
 listen to the low calls of the birds as they gathered 
 
264 Aftermath 
 
 in and settled down. I have no time for such 
 pleasant ways now ; they have been given up 
 along with my other studies. 
 
 This winter of 1851 and 1852 has been cold 
 beyond the memory of man in Kentucky the 
 memory of the white man, which goes back some 
 three-quarters of a century. Twice the Ohio 
 River has been frozen over, a sight he had never 
 seen. The thermometer has fallen to thirty 
 degrees below zero. Unheard-of snows have 
 blocked the two or three railroads we have in the 
 State. News comes that people are walking over 
 the ice on East River, New York, and that the 
 Mississippi at Memphis bears the weight of a man 
 a hundred yards from the bank. 
 
 Behind this winter lay last year's spring of 
 rigours hitherto unknown, destroying orchards, 
 vineyards, countless tender trees and plants. It 
 set everybody to talking of the year 1834, when 
 such a frost fell that to this day it is known 
 as Black Friday in Kentucky ; and it gave me 
 occasion to tell Georgiana a story my grandfather 
 had told me, of how one night in the wilderness 
 the weather grew so terrible that the wild beasts 
 came out of the forests to shelter themselves around 
 the cabins of the pioneers, and how he was 
 awakened by them fighting and crowding for 
 places against the warm walls and chimney-corners. 
 If he had but opened his door and crept back into 
 
Aftermath 265 
 
 bed, he might soon have had a buffalo on one side 
 of his fireplace and a bear on the other, with a 
 wild-cat asleep on the hearth between, and with 
 the thin-skinned deer left shivering outside as 
 truly as if they had all been human beings. 
 
 Such a spring, with its destruction of seed- 
 bearing and nut-bearing vegetation, followed by a 
 winter that seals under ice what may have been 
 produced, has spread starvation among the wild 
 creatures. A recent Sunday afternoon walk in 
 the woods Georgiana being away from home 
 with her mother showed me that part of the 
 earth's surface rolled out as a vast white chart, on 
 which were traced the desperate travels of the 
 snow-walkers in search of food. Squirrel, chip 
 munk, rabbit, weasel, mouse, mink, fox their 
 tracks crossed and recrossed, wound in and out 
 and round and round, making an intricate lace- 
 work beautiful and pitiful to behold. Crow-prints 
 ringed every corn-shuck in the field. At the base 
 of one I picked up a frozen dove starved at the 
 brink of plenty. Rabbit tracks grew thickest as I 
 entered my turnip and cabbage patches, converging 
 towards my house, and coming to a focus at a 
 group of snow-covered pyramids, in which last 
 autumn, as usual, I buried my vegetables. I told 
 Georgiana : 
 
 'They are attracted by the leaves that Dilsy 
 throws away when she gets out what we need. 
 
266 Aftermath 
 
 Think of it a whole neighbourhood of rabbits 
 hurrying here after dark for the chance of a bare 
 nibble at a possible leaf/ Once that night 
 I turned in bed, restless. Georgiana did the 
 same. 
 
 ' Are you awake ? ' she said softly. 
 
 ' Are you ? ' 
 
 ' Are you thinking about the rabbits ? ' 
 
 ' Are you ? ' 
 
 c What do you suppose they think about us ? ' 
 
 * I'd rather not know/ 
 
 Georgiana tells me that the birds in unusual 
 numbers are wintering among the trees, driven to 
 us with the boldness of despair. God and nature 
 have forgotten them ; they have nothing to choose 
 between but death and man. She has taken my 
 place as their almoner, and nightly renders me an 
 account of what she has done. This winter gives 
 her a great chance and she adorns it. It seems 
 that never before were so many red-birds in the 
 cedars ; and although one subject is never 
 mentioned between us, unconsciously she dwells 
 upon these in her talk, and plainly favours them 
 in her affection for the sake of the past. There 
 are many stories I could relate to show how 
 simple and beautiful is this whole aspect of her 
 nature. 
 
 A little thing happened to-night. 
 
Aftermath 267 
 
 Towards ten o'clock she brought my hat, over 
 coat, overshoes, mittens, comforter. 
 
 < Put them on/ she said mysteriously. 
 
 She also got ready, separating herself from me 
 by so many. clothes that I could almost have felt 
 myself entitled to a divorce. 
 
 It was like day out-of-doors with the moon 
 shining on the snow. We crept towards the 
 garden, screened behind out-buildings. When we 
 reached the fence, we looked through towards the 
 white pyramids. All that part of the ground was 
 alive with rabbits. Georgiana had spread for them 
 a banquet of Lucullus, a Belshazzar's feast. It 
 had been done to please me, I knew, and out of a 
 certain playfulness of her own ; but there are 
 other charities of hers, which she thinks known 
 only to herself, that show as well the divine drift 
 of her thoughtfulness. 
 
 She is asleep now for the sake of the Secret. 
 After she had gone to bed, what with the spectacle 
 of the rabbits and what with our talk beforehand 
 of the many cardinals in the cedars, my thoughts 
 began to run freshly on old subjects, and, un 
 locking my bureau, I got out my notes and draw 
 ings for the work on Kentucky birds. Georgiana 
 does not know that they exist ; she never shall. 
 With what authority those studies call me still, 
 as with a trumpet from the skies ! and I know 
 that trumpet will sound on till my ears are past 
 
268 Aftermath 
 
 hearing. Sometimes I look upon myself as a man 
 who has had two hearts ; one lies buried in the 
 woods, and the other sits at the fireside thinking 
 of it. But sleep on, Georgiana mother that is 
 to be. The dreams of your life shall never be 
 disturbed by the old dreams of mine. 
 
VI 
 
 HE population of this town 
 on yesterday was seven 
 thousand nine hundred 
 and twenty ; to - day it 
 is seven thousand nine 
 hundred and twenty- one. 
 The inhabitants of the 
 globe are enriched by the 
 
 same stupendous unit ; the solar system must 
 adjust itself to new laws of equilibrium ; the choir 
 of angels is sweetened by the advent of another 
 musician. During the night Georgiana bore a son 
 not during the night, but at dawn, amid such 
 singing of birds that every tree in the yard be 
 came a dew-hung belfry of chimes, ringing a 
 welcome to the heir of this old house and of these 
 old trees to the dispenser of seed during winters 
 
270 Aftermath 
 
 to come to the proprietor of a whole race of 
 seed-scatterers as long as nature shall be harsh and 
 seasons shall return. 
 
 I had already bought the largest family Bible 
 in town as a repository for his name, Adam Cobb 
 Moss, which in clear euphony is most fit to be 
 enrolled among the sweetly sounding vocables of 
 the Hebrew children. The page for the registra 
 tion of later births in my family is so large, and 
 the lines ruled across it are so many, that I am 
 deeply mortified over this solitary entry at the top. 
 But surely Georgiana and I would have to live 
 far past the ages of Abraham and Sarah to fill it 
 with the requisite wealth of offspring, beginning 
 as we do, and beginning without divine assist 
 ance. When the name of our eldest born is in 
 scribed in this Bible, not far away will be found a 
 scene in the home of his first parents, Georgiana 
 and I being only the last of these, and giving, as 
 it were, merely the finishing Kentucky touch to 
 his Jewish origin. 
 
 But I gambol in spirit like a hawk in the air. 
 Let me hood myself with parental cares ; I have 
 been a sire for half a day. 
 
 I am speechless before the stupendous wisdom 
 of my son in view of his stupendous ignorance. 
 Already he lectures to the old people about the 
 house on the perfect conduct of life, and the only 
 
Aftermath 271 
 
 preparation that he requires for his lectures is a 
 few drops of milk. By means of these, and with 
 out any knowledge of anatomy, he will show us, 
 for instance, what it is to be master of the science 
 of vital functions. When he regards it necessary 
 to do anything, he does it instantly and perfectly, 
 and the world may take the consequences and the 
 result. He forthwith addresses himself to fresh 
 comfort and new enterprises for self-development. 
 Beyond what is vital he refuses to go ; things that 
 do not concern him he lets alone. He has no 
 cares beyond his needs ; all space to him is what 
 he can fill, all time his instant of action. He does 
 not know where he came from, what he is, why here, 
 whither bound ; nor does he ask. 
 
 My heart aches helplessly for him when he 
 shall have become a man and have grown less 
 wise : when he shall find it necessary to act for 
 himself, and shall yet be troubled by what his 
 companions may think ; when he shall no longer 
 live within the fortress of the vital, but take up 
 his wandering abode with the husks and swine ; 
 when he shall no longer let the world pass by 
 him with heed only as there is need, but weary 
 himself to better the unchangeable ; when space 
 shall not be some quiet nook of the world large 
 enough for the cradle of his life, but the illimit 
 able void filled with floating spheres, out upon 
 the myriads of which, with his poor, puzzled 
 
272 Aftermath 
 
 eyes, he will pitifully gaze ; when time shall not 
 be his instant of action, but two eternities, past 
 and future, along the baffling walls of which he 
 will lead his groping faith ; and when the question 
 ing of his stoutest years shall be : Whence came 
 I ? And what am I ? Why here for a little 
 while ? Where to be hereafter ? A swimmer is 
 drowned by a wave originating in the moon ; a 
 traveller is struck down by a bolt originating in a 
 cloud ; a workman is overcome by the heat 
 originating in the sun ; and so, perhaps, the end 
 will come to him through his solitary struggle 
 with the great powers of the universe that perpetu 
 ally reach him, but remain for ever beyond his reach. 
 If I could put forth one protecting prayer that 
 would cover all his years, it would be that through 
 life he continue as wise as the day he was born. 
 
 The third of June once more. Rain fell all 
 yesterday, all last night. This morning earth and 
 sky are dark and chill. The plants are bowed 
 down, and no wind releases them from their burden 
 of large white drops. About the yard the red-rose 
 bushes fall away from the fences, the lilacs stand 
 with their purple clusters hanging down as heavily 
 as clusters of purple grapes. I hear the young 
 orioles calling drearily from wet nests under 
 dripping boughs. A plaintive piping of lost little 
 chickens comes from the long grass. 
 
Aftermath 273 
 
 How unlike the day is to the third of June two 
 years ago ! I was in the strawberry bed that 
 crystalline morning ; Georgiana came to the 
 window, and I beheld her for the first time. 
 How unlike the same day one year back. Again 
 I was in the strawberry bed, again Georgiana came 
 to the window and spoke to me as before. This 
 morning as I tipped into her room where she 
 lay in her bed, she turned her face to me 
 on the pillow, and for the third time she said, 
 fondly : 
 
 4 Are you the gardener ? ' 
 
 The sky being so blanketed with cloud, although 
 the shutters were open, only a faint gray light filled 
 the room. It was the first day that she had been 
 well enough to have it done ; but now the bed in 
 which Georgiana lay was spread with the most 
 beautiful draperies of white ; the pillows were rich 
 with needle-work and lace, and for the first time 
 she had put on the badge of her new dignity, a 
 little white cap of ribbons and lace, the long wide 
 streamers of which, edged with lace, lay out upon 
 the counterpane like bands of the most delicate 
 frost. The fingers of one hand rested lightly on 
 the child beside her, as though she were counting 
 the pulse of its oncoming life. Out in the yard the 
 lilies of the valley, slipping out of their cool sheaths 
 of green leaves, were not more white, more fresh. 
 And surely Georgiana's gaiety is the unconquerable 
 
274 Aftermath 
 
 gaiety of the world, the youthfulness of immortal 
 youth. 
 
 I went over to her with the strange new awe I 
 feel at my union with the young mother, where 
 hitherto there has but been a union with the woman 
 I love. She stretched out her hands to me, almost 
 hidden under the lace of her sleeves, and drew my 
 face down against hers, as she said in my ear : 
 
 < Now you are the old Adam ! ' 
 
 When she released me, she bent over the child 
 and added, reproachfully : 
 
 ' You haven't paid the least attention to the 
 baby/ 
 
 ' I haven't noticed that the baby has bestowed 
 the least attention upon me. He is the youngest.' 
 
 ' He is the guest of the house ! It is your duty 
 to speak to him first.' 
 
 * He doesn't act like a guest in my house. He 
 behaves as though he owned it. I'm nobody since 
 he arrived not even his body-servant.' 
 
 Georgiana, who was still bending over the child, 
 glanced up with a look of confidential, whimsical 
 distress. 
 
 1 How could anything so old be born so young ! ' 
 
 ' He will look younger as he gets older,' I 
 replied. ' And he will not be the first bachelor to 
 do that. At present this youngster is an invaluable 
 human document in too large an envelope : that's 
 all.' 
 
Aftermath 275 
 
 Georgiana, with a swift, protecting movement, 
 leaned nearer to the child, and spoke to him : 
 
 4 It's your house ; tell him to leave the room for 
 his impertinence.' 
 
 ' He may have the house, since it's his,' I replied. 
 ' But there is one thing I'll not stand ; if he ever 
 comes between me and you, he'll have to go ; I'll 
 present him to Mrs. Walters.' 
 
 I was not aware of the expression with which I 
 stood looking down upon my son, but Georgiana 
 must have noticed it. 
 
 ' And what if he supplants me some day ? ' she 
 asked, suddenly serious, and with an old fear 
 reviving. 
 
 * Oh, Georgiana ! ' I cried, kneeling by the 
 bedside and putting my arms around her, ' you 
 know that as long as we are in this world I am 
 your lover.' 
 
 4 No longer ? ' she whispered, drawing me closer. 
 
 ' For ever ! ' 
 
 By-and-by I went out to the strawberry bed. 
 The season was too backward. Not one was 
 turning. With bitter disappointment I searched 
 the cold, wet leaves, bending them apart for the 
 sight of as much as one scarlet lobe, that I might 
 take it in to her if only for remembrance of the 
 day. At last I gathered a few perfect leaves and 
 blossoms, and presented them to her in silence on 
 a plate with a waiter and napkin. 
 
276 Aftermath 
 
 She rewarded me with a laugh, and lifted from 
 the plate a spray of blossoms. 
 
 ' They will be ripe by the time I am well,' she 
 said, the sunlight of memory coming out upon her 
 face. Then having touched the wet blossoms with 
 her finger-tips, she dropped them quickly back 
 into the plate. 
 
 * How cold they are ! ' she said, as a shiver ran 
 through her. At the same time she looked quickly 
 at me, her eyes grown dark with dread. 
 
 I set the plate hastily down, and she put her 
 hands in mine to warm them. 
 
VII 
 
 MONTH has gone by since 
 Georgiana passed away. 
 
 To-day, for the first 
 time, I went back to the 
 woods. It was pleasant 
 to be surrounded again 
 by the ever-living earth 
 that feels no loss and has no memory ; that 
 was sere yesterday, is green to-day, will be sere 
 again to-morrow, then green once more ; that 
 pauses not for wounds and wrecks, nor lingers 
 over death and change ; but onward, ever onward, 
 along the groove of law, passes from its red origin 
 in universal flame to its white end in universal snow. 
 And yet, as I approached the edge of the forest, 
 it was as though an invisible company of influences 
 came gently forth to meet me and sought to draw 
 
278 Aftermath 
 
 me back into their old friendship. I found myself 
 stroking the trunks of the trees as I would throw 
 my arm around the shoulders of a tried comrade ; 
 I drew down the branches and plunged my face 
 into the new leaves as into a tonic stream. 
 
 Yesterday a wind storm swept this neighbour 
 hood. Later, deep in the woods, I came upon an 
 elm that had been struck by a bolt at the top. 
 Nearly half the trunk had been torn away ; and 
 one huge limb lay across my path. 
 
 As I stood looking at it, the single note of a 
 bird fell on my ear always the same note, low, 
 quiet, regular, devoid of feeling, as though the bird 
 had been stunned and were trying to say : What 
 can I do ? What can I do ? What can I do ? 
 
 I knew what that note meant. It was the note 
 with which a bird now and then lingers around the 
 scene of the central tragedy of its life. 
 
 After a long search I found the nest, crushed 
 against the ground under the huge limb, and a few 
 feet from it, in the act of trying to escape, the male. 
 The female, sitting meantime on the end of a 
 bough near by, watched me incuriously, and with 
 no change in that quiet, regular, careless note 
 she knew only too well that he was past my harm 
 ing. The plan of their life had reached an end in 
 early summer. 
 
 I sat down near by for a while, thinking of the 
 universal tragedy of the nest. 
 
Aftermath 279 
 
 It was the second time to-day that this divine 
 wastage in nature had forced itself on my thought, 
 and this morning the spectacle was on a scale of 
 tragic greatness beyond anything that has ever 
 touched human life in this part of the country : 
 Mr. Clay was buried amid the long, sad blare of 
 music, the tolling of bells, the roll of drums, the 
 boom of cannon, and the grief of thousands upon 
 thousands of people a vast and solemn pageant, 
 yet as nothing to the multitudes that will attend 
 afar. For him this day the flags of nations will 
 fly half-mast ; and the truly great men of the 
 world, wherever the tidings may reach them of 
 his passing, will stand awe-stricken that one of 
 their superhuman company has been too soon 
 withdrawn. 
 
 Too soon withdrawn ! Therein is the tragedy 
 of the nest, the wastage of the strong, the law of 
 loss, whose reign on earth is unending, but whose 
 right to reign no creature, brute nor human, ever 
 acknowledges. 
 
 The death of Mr. Clay is one of the many 
 things that are happening to change all that made 
 up my life with Georgiana. She was a true hero- 
 worshipper, and she worshipped him. I no less. 
 Now that he is dead, I feel as much lonelier as a 
 soldier feels whose chosen tent -mate and whose 
 General have fallen on the field together. 
 
 As I turned away from the overcrowded town 
 
280 Aftermath 
 
 this afternoon towards the woods and was confronted 
 by the wreck of the storm, my thoughts being yet 
 full of Mr. Clay, of his enemies and disappoint 
 ment, there rose before my mind a scene such as 
 Audubon may once have witnessed : 
 
 The light of day is dying over the forests of 
 the upper Mississippi. The silence of high space 
 falls upon the vast stream. On a thunder-blasted 
 tree-top near the western bank sits a lone, stern 
 figure waiting for its lordliest prey the eagle 
 waiting for the swan- Long the stillness continues 
 among the rocks, the tree-tops, and above the 
 river. But far away in the north a white shape is 
 floating nearer. At last it comes into sight, flying 
 heavily, for it is already weary, being already 
 wounded. The next moment the cry of its coming 
 is heard echoing onward and downward upon the 
 silent woods. Instantly the mighty watcher on 
 the summit is alert and tense ; and as the great 
 snowy image of the swan floats by, in mid-air and 
 midway of the broad expanse of water, he meets it. 
 No battle is fought up there the two are not 
 well matched ; and thus, separated from all that is 
 little and struggling far above all that is low, with 
 the daylight dying on his spotlessness, the swan 
 received the blow in its heart. 
 
 So came Death to the great Commoner. 
 
 Oh, Georgiana ! I do not think of Death as 
 
Aftermath 281 
 
 ever having come to you. I think of you as some 
 strangely beautiful white being that one day rose 
 out of these earthly marshes where hunts the dark 
 Fowler, and uttering your note of divine farewell, 
 spread your wings towards the open sea of eternity, 
 there to wait my coming. 
 
VIII 
 
 T is a year and four months 
 since Georgiana left me, 
 and now everything goes 
 on much as it did before 
 she came. The family have 
 moved back to their home 
 in Henderson, returning 
 like a little company of 
 travellers who have lost 
 
 their guide. Sylvia has already married ; her 
 brother writes me that he is soon to be ; the mother 
 visits me and my child, yearningly, but seldom, on 
 account of her delicate health ; and thus our lives 
 grow always more apart. No one takes their 
 place, the house having passed to people with 
 whom, beyond all neighbourly civilities, I have 
 
Aftermath 283 
 
 naught to do. Nowadays as I stroll around my 
 garden with my little boy in my arms, strange faces 
 look down upon us out of Georgiana's window. 
 
 And I have long since gone back to Nature. 
 When the harvest has been gathered from our 
 strong, true land, a growth comes on which late in 
 the year causes the earth to regain somewhat of 
 its old greenness. New blades spring up in the 
 stubble of the wheat ; the beeless clover runs 
 and blossoms ; far and wide over the mea 
 dows flow the tufted billows of the grass ; and 
 in the woods the oak-tree drops the purple and 
 brown of his leaf and mast upon the verdure of 
 June. Everywhere a second spring puts forth 
 between summer gone and winter nearing. It is 
 the overflow of plenty beyond the filling of the 
 barns. It is a wave of life following quickly upon 
 the one that broke bountifully at our feet. It 
 is nature's refusal to be once reaped and so to end. 
 
 The math : then the aftermath. 
 
 Upon the Kentucky landscape during these 
 October days there lies this later youth of the year, 
 calm, deep, vigorous. And as I spend much time 
 in it for the fine fresh work it brings to hand and 
 thought, I feel that in my way I am part of it, 
 that I can match the aftermath of nature with the 
 aftermath of my life. The Harvest passed over 
 my fields, leaving them bare ; they are green again 
 up to the winter's edge. 
 
284 Aftermath 
 
 The thought has now come into my mind that 
 I shall lay aside these pages for my son to ponder 
 if he should ever grow old enough to value what 
 he reads. They will give him some account of 
 how his father and mother met in the old time, of 
 their courting days, of their happy life together. 
 And since it becomes more probable that there 
 will be a war, and that I might not be living to 
 speak to him of his mother in ways not written 
 here, I shall set down one thing about her which I 
 pray he may take well to heart. He ought to 
 know and to remember this : that his life was the 
 price of hers ; she was extinguished that he might 
 shine, and he owes it to her that the flame of his torch 
 be as white as the altar's from which it was kindled. 
 
 Perhaps the most remarkable thing, then, in the 
 character of his mother which, please God, he will 
 have, or, getting all things else, he can never be a 
 gentleman was honour. It shone from her 
 countenance, it ran like melody in her voice, it 
 made her eyes the most beautiful in expression 
 that I have ever seen, it enveloped her person and 
 demeanour with spiritual grace. Honour in what 
 are called the little things of life, honour not as 
 women commonly understand it, but as the best 
 of men understand it that his mother had. It 
 was the crystalline, unshakable rock upon which 
 the somewhat fragile and never to be completed 
 structure of her life was reared. 
 
Aftermath 285 
 
 If he be anything of a philosopher, he may 
 reason that this trait must have made his mother 
 too serious and too hard. Let him think again. 
 It was the very core of soundness in her that kept 
 her gay and sweet. I have often likened her mind 
 to the sky in its power of changeableness from 
 radiant joyousness to sober calm ; but oftenest it 
 was like the vault of April, whose drops quicken 
 what they may fall upon ; and she was of a soft- 
 heartedness that ruled her absolutely but only to 
 the unyielding edge of honour. Yet she did not 
 escape this charge of being both hard and serious 
 upon the part of men and women who were used 
 to the laxness of small misdemeanours, and felt ill 
 at ease before the terrifying truth that she was a 
 lady. 
 
 Beyond this single trait of hers which, if it 
 please God that he inherit it, may he keep though 
 he lose everything else I set nothing further down 
 for his remembrance, since naught could come of 
 my writing. By words I could no more give him 
 an idea of what his mother was than I could point 
 him to a few measures of wheat and bid him behold 
 a living harvest. 
 
 Upon these fields of cool October greenness 
 there rises out of the earth a low, sturdy weed. 
 Upon the top of this weed small white blossoms 
 open as still as stars of frost. Upon these bios- 
 
286 Aftermath 
 
 soms lies a fragrance so pure and wholesome that 
 the searching sense is never cloyed, never satisfied. 
 Years after the blossoms are dried and yellow and 
 the leaves withered and gone, this wholesome 
 fragrance lasts. The common people, who often 
 put their hopes into their names, call it life-ever 
 lasting. Sometimes they make themselves pillows 
 of it for its virtue of bringing a quiet sleep. 
 
 This plant is blooming out now, and nightly 
 as I wend homeward I pluck a handful of it, 
 gathering along with its life the tranquil sunshine, 
 the autumnal notes of the cardinal passing to better 
 lands, and all the healthful influences of the fields. 
 I shall make me a tribute of it to the memory of 
 her undying sweetness. 
 
 If God wills, when I fall asleep for good I shall 
 lay my head beside hers on the bosom of the Life 
 Everlasting. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. 
 
THE WORKS OF 
 
 JAMES LANE ALLEN. 
 
 ACADEMY." We are glad to see that the fine work of Mr. James Lane Allen in fiction 
 is likely to be letter known in this country than hitherto." 
 
 THE INCREASING PURPOSE. 110th Thousand. 
 
 " Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, 
 And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Gilt top. 6s. 
 
 WESTMINSTER GAZETTE." Such a book as this is a rare event, and as refreshing 
 as it is rare. This look ... is a beautiful one beautiful alike in thought, toni, and 
 language." 
 
 LITERATURE." We may safely assert that it will achieve a large success, and achieve 
 it on its merits." 
 
 THE CHOIR INVISIBLE. 223rd Thousand. Globe 8vo. 6s. Also 
 the Edition de Luxe with Illustrations by ORSON LOWELL. Extra 
 Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d. net. 
 
 ACADEMY." A look to read, and a look to keep after reading. Mr. Allen's gifts are 
 many a style pellucid and picturesque, a vivid and disciplined power of characterisation, 
 and an intimate knowledge of a striking epoch and an alluring country. ' The Choir 
 Invisible ' is a fine achievement." 
 
 A KENTUCKY CARDINAL. Globe Svo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 AFTERMATH. Being Part II. of A Kentucky Cardinal. Globe 8vo 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 A KENTUCKY CARDINAL, AND AFTERMATH. Complete in 
 one volume. With Headpieces, Initials, and Illustrations by HUGH 
 THOMSON. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 OUTLOOK. "H is work has purity, delicacy, and unfailing charm. He gives you 
 matter for laughter, matter for tears, and matter to think upon, with a very fine hand." 
 
 SUMMER IN ARCADY. Globe Svo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 DAILY TELEGRAPH. " Most charming. . . . In this little sketch Mr. Allen's writing 
 of nature is of his lest. The whole picture is seen through a glorifying haze of summer heat 
 and mystery. Overflowing with life, rich in perfume, warm and irresistible. The scene 
 glows side by side with the rising love in the two young hearts." 
 
 FLUTE AND VIOLIN AND OTHER KENTUCKY TALES AND 
 ROMANCES. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 DAILY NEWS. " The stories will be warmly welcomed in their new form by all lovers 
 of art and of nature, and by those especially who already know and appreciate the enchanted 
 Kentucky of Mr. James Lane Allen." 
 
 THE BLUE -GRASS REGION OF KENTUCKY AND OTHER 
 KENTUCKY ARTICLES. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 SPECTATOR." This charming look. . . . Mr. Allen can paint word landscapes with 
 astonishing clearness and delicacy. " 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. 
 
The 
 
 New Cranford Series. 
 
 < U 
 
 Grown Svo. Cloth Elegant, Gilt Edges. 
 3s. 6d. per volume. 
 
 CRANFORD. By Mrs. GASKELL. Preface by ANNE THACKERAY 
 
 RITCHIE, and 100 Illustrations by HUGH THOMSON. 
 THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. With 182 Illustrations by HUGH 
 
 THOMSON, and Preface by AUSTIN DOBSON. Second Edition. 
 OUR VILLAGE. By MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. Introduction by 
 
 ANNE THACKERAY RITCHIE, and 100 Illustrations by HUGI- 
 
 THOMSON. 
 GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. With Introduction by Sir HENRY CRAIK. 
 
 K.C.B., and 100 Illustrations by C. E. BROCK. 
 THE HUMOROUS POEMS OF THOMAS HOOD. Preface by 
 
 ALFRED AINGER, and 130 Illustrations by CHARLES E. BROCK. 
 SHERIDAN'S THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL AND THE RIVALS. 
 
 Illustrated by E. J. SULLIVAN. With Introduction by A. BIRRELL. 
 HOUSEHOLD STORIES. By the Brothers GRIMM. Translated by 
 
 LUCY CRANE. Pictures by WALTER, CRANE. 
 REYNARD THE FOX. Edited by J. JACOBS. Illustrated by W. 
 
 FRANK CALDERON. 
 COACHING DAYS AND COACHING WAYS. By W. OUTRAM 
 
 TRISTRAM. With Illustrations by H. RAILTON and HUGH THOMSON. 
 CORIDON'S SONG: and other Verses. Illustrations by HUGH 
 
 THOMSON. Introduction by AUSTIN DOBSON. 
 DAYS WITH SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. Illustrated by HUGH 
 
 THOMSON. 
 OLD CHRISTMAS. By WASHINGTON IRVING. Illustrated by R. 
 
 CALDECOTT. 
 
 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. Illustrated by R. CALDECOTT. 
 RIP VAN WINKLE AND THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. 
 
 With 50 Illustrations and a Preface by GEORGE H. BOUGHTON, A.R. A. 
 THE ALHAMBRA. Illustrations by J. PENNELL and Introduction by 
 
 E. R. PENNELL. 
 THE FABLES OF MSOP. Selected by JOSEPH JACOBS. Illustrated 
 
 by R. HEIGHWAY. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. 
 
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