Beneath an Umbrella (From "Twice Told Tales")Hawthorne, Nathaniel
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Beneath an Umbrella (From "Twice Told Tales")
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
From hence I tread upon firm pavements into the centre of the town.
Here there is almost as brilliant an illumination as when some great
victory has been won, either on the battle-field or at the polls. Two
rows of shops, with windows down nearly to the ground, cast a glow
from side to side, while the black night hangs overhead like a canopy,
and thus keeps the splendor from diffusing itself away. The wet
sidewalks gleam with a broad sheet of red light. The rain-drops
glitter, as if the sky were pouring down rubies. The spouts gush with
fire. Methinks the scene is an emblem of the deceptive glare, which
mortals throw around their footsteps in the moral world, thus
bedazzling themselves, till they forget the impenetrable obscurity
that hems them in, and that can be dispelled only by radiance from
above. And after all, it is a cheerless scene, and cheerless are the
wanderers in it. Here comes one who has so long been familiar with
tempestuous weather that he takes the bluster of the storm for a
friendly greeting, as if it should say, "How fare ye, brother?"
He is a retired sea-captain, wrapped in some nameless garment of the
pea-jacket order, and is now laying his course towards the Marine
Insurance Office, there to spin yarns of gale and shipwreck, with a
crew of old seadogs like himself. The blast will put in its word
among their hoarse voices, and be understood by all of them. Next I
meet an unhappy slipshod gentleman, with a cloak flung hastily over
his shoulders, running a race with boisterous winds, and striving to
glide between the drops of rain. Some domestic emergency or other has
blown this miserable man from his warm fireside in quest of a doctor!
See that little vagabond,--how carelessly he has taken his stand right
underneath a spout, while staring at some object of curiosity in a
shop-window! Surely the rain is his native element; he must have
fallen with it from the clouds, as frogs are supposed to do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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