按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃We've just had news that old Mr。 Toombs is dead。〃
〃Dead！〃 I exclaimed； dropping my fork； 〃old Nathan Toombs！〃
〃Yes； he was my uncle。 Did you know him？〃
〃I knew Nathan Toombs；〃 I said。
I spent two days there with the Ransomes； for they would not hear of my leaving； and half of our spare time； I think； was spent in discussing Nathan Toombs。 I was not able to get him out of my mind for days； for his death was one of those events which prove so much and leave so much unproven。
I can recall vividly my astonishment at the first evidence I ever had of the strange old man or of his work。 It was not very long after I came to my farm to live。 I had taken to spending my spare eveningsthe long evenings of summerin exploring the country roads for miles around； getting acquainted with each farmstead； each bit of grove and meadow and marsh； making my best bow to each unfamiliar hill； and taking everywhere that toll of pleasure which comes of quiet discovery。
One evening； having walked farther than usual； I came quite suddenly around a turn in the road and saw stretching away before me an extraordinary sight。
I feel that I am conveying no adequate impression of what I beheld by giving it any such prim and decorous name asa Hedge。 It was a menagerie； a living； green menagerie！ I had no sooner seen it than I began puzzling my brain as to whether one of the curious ornaments into which the upper part of the hedge had been clipped and trimmed was made to represent the head of a horse； or a camel； or an Egyptian sphinx。
The hedge was of arbor vite and as high as a man's waist。 At more or less regular intervals the trees in it had been allowed to grow much taller and had been wonderfully pruned into the similitude of towers； pinnacles； bells； and many other strange designs。 Here and there the hedge held up a spindling umbrella of greenery； sometimes a double umbrellaa little one above the big oneand over the gateway at the centre； as a sort of final triumph； rose a grandiose arch of interlaced branches upon which the artist had outdone himself in marvels of ornamentation。
I shall never forget the sensation of delight I had over this discovery； or of how I walked； tiptoe； along the road in front； studying each of the marvellous adornments。 How eagerly； too； I looked over at the house beyonda rather bare； bleak house set on a slight knoll or elevation and guarded at one corner by a dark spruce tree。 At some distance behind I saw a number of huge barns； a cattle yard and a siloall the evidences of prosperitywith well…nurtured fields； now yellowing with the summer crops； spreading pleasantly away on every hand。
It was nearly dark before I left that bit of roadside； and I shall never forget the eerie impression I had as I turned back to take a final look at the hedge； the strange； grotesque aspect it presented there in the half light with the bare； lonely house rising from the knoll behind。
It was not until some weeks later that I met the owner of the wonderful hedge。 By that time； however； having learned of my interest； I found the whole countryside alive with stories about it and about Old Nathan Toombs； its owner。 It was as though I had struck the rock of refreshment in a weary land。
I remember distinctly how puzzled was by the stories I heard。 The neighbourhood portraitand ours is really a friendly neighbourhoodwas by no means flattering。 Old Toombs was apparently of that type of hard…shelled； grasping； self…reliant； old…fashioned farmer not unfamiliar to many country neighbourhoods。 He had come of tough old American stock and he was a worker； a saver； and thus he had grown rich； the richest farmer in the whole neighbourhood。 He was a regular individualistic American。
〃A dour man；〃 said the Scotch Preacher； 〃but justyou must admit that he is just。〃
There was no man living about whom the Scotch Preacher could not find something good to say。
〃Yes； just；〃 replied Horace； 〃but hardhard； and as mean as pusley。〃
This portrait was true enough in itself； for I knew just the sort of an aggressive； undoubtedly irritable old fellow it pictured； but somehow； try as I would； I could not see any such old fellow wasting his moneyed hours clipping bells； umbrellas； and camel's heads on his ornamental greenery。 It left just that incongruity which is at once the lure； the humour； and the perplexity of human life。 Instead of satisfying my curiosity I was more anxious than ever to see Old Toombs with my own eyes。
But the weeks passed and somehow I did not meet him。 He was a lonely； unneighbourly old fellow。 He had apparently come to fit into the community without ever really becoming a part of it。 His neighbours accepted him as they accepted a hard hill in the town road。 From time to time he would foreclose a mortgage where he had loaned money to some less thrifty farmer； or he would extend his acres by purchase； hard cash down； or he would build a bigger barn。 When any of these things happened the community would crowd over a little； as it were； to give him more room。 It is a curious thing； and tragic； too； when you come to think of it； how the world lets alone those people who appear to want to be let alone。 〃I can live to myself；〃 says the unneighbourly one。 〃Well； live to yourself； then；〃 cheerfully responds the world； and it goes about its more or less amusing affairs and lets the unneighbourly one cut himself off。
So our small community had let Old Toombs go his way with all his money； his acres； his hedge； and his reputation for being a just man。
Not meeting him； therefore； in the familiar and friendly life of the neighbourhood； I took to walking out toward his farm； looking freshly at the wonderful hedge and musing upon that most fascinating of all subjectshow men come to be what they are。 And at last I was rewarded。
One day I had scarcely reached the end of the hedge when I saw Old Toombs himself； moving toward me down the country road。 Though I had never seen him before； I was at no loss to identify him。 The first and vital impression he gave me； if I can compress it into a single word； was； I think；forceforce。 He came stubbing down the country road with a brown hickory stick in his hand which at every step he set vigorously into the soft earth。 Though not tall； he gave the impression of being enormously strong。 He was thick； solid； firmthick through the body； thick through the thighs； and his shoulderswhat shoulders they were！round like a maple log； and his great head with its thatching of coarse iron…gray hair； though thrust slightly forward； seemed set immovably upon them；
He presented such a forbidding appearance that I was of two minds about addressing him。 Dour he was indeed！ Nor shall I ever forget how he looked when I spoke to him。 He stopped short there in the road。 On his big square nose he wore a pair of curious spring…bowed glasses with black rims。 For a moment he looked at me through these glasses； raising his chin a little； and then； deliberately wrinkling his nose； they fell off and dangled at the length of the faded cord by which they were hung。 There was something almost uncanny about this peculiar habit of his and of the way in which； afterward； he looked at me from under his bu