Main Street: (From: "The Snow Image and Other Twice-Told Tales")Hawthorne, Nathaniel
General
Main Street: (From: "The Snow Image and Other Twice-Told Tales")
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
“We public men,” replies the showman, meekly, “must lay our account,
sometimes, to meet an uncandid severity of criticism. But—merely for
your own pleasure, sir—let me entreat you to take another point of
view. Sit farther back, by that young lady, in whose face I have
watched the reflection of every changing scene; only oblige me by
sitting there; and, take my word for it, the slips of pasteboard shall
assume spiritual life, and the bedaubed canvas become an airy and
changeable reflex of what it purports to represent.”
“I know better,” retorts the critic, settling himself in his seat, with
sullen but self-complacent immovableness. “And, as for my own pleasure,
I shall best consult it by remaining precisely where I am.”
The showman bows, and waves his hand; and, at the signal, as if time
and vicissitude had been awaiting his permission to move onward, the
mimic street becomes alive again.
Years have rolled over our scene, and converted the forest-track into a
dusty thoroughfare, which, being intersected with lanes and
cross-paths, may fairly be designated as the Main Street. On the
ground-sites of many of the log-built sheds, into which the first
settlers crept for shelter, houses of quaint architecture have now
risen. These later edifices are built, as you see, in one generally
accordant style, though with such subordinate variety as keeps the
beholder’s curiosity excited, and causes each structure, like its
owner’s character, to produce its own peculiar impression. Most of them
have a huge chimney in the centre, with flues so vast that it must have
been easy for the witches to fly out of them as they were wont to do,
when bound on an aerial visit to the Black Man in the forest. Around
this great chimney the wooden house clusters itself, in a whole
community of gable-ends, each ascending into its own separate peak; the
second story, with its lattice-windows, projecting over the first; and
the door, which is perhaps arched, provided on the outside with an iron
hammer, wherewith the visitor’s hand may give a thundering rat-a-tat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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