The Apple-Tree Table, and Other SketchesMelville, Herman
General
The Apple-Tree Table, and Other Sketches
Melville, Herman
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
How forlorn it was to see him so heartily drinking the generous tea,
cup after cup, and eating the flavorous bread and butter, piece after
piece, when, owing to the lateness of the dinner hour with the rest,
and the abundance of that one grand meal with them, no one besides
Jimmy touched the bread and butter, or exceeded a single cup of
Souchong. And knowing all this very well, poor Jimmy would try to hide
his hunger, and yet gratify it too, by striving hard to carry on a
sprightly conversation with his hostess, and throwing in the eagerest
mouthfuls with a sort of absent-minded air, as if he ate merely for
custom's sake, and not starvation's.
Poor, poor Jimmy--God guard us all--poor Jimmy Rose!
Neither did Jimmy give up his courtly ways. Whenever there were ladies
at the table, sure were they of some fine word; though, indeed,
toward the close of Jimmy's life, the young ladies rather thought
his compliments somewhat musty, smacking of cocked hats and small
clothes--nay, of old pawnbrokers' shoulder-lace and sword belts. For
there still lingered in Jimmy's address a subdued sort of martial air;
he having in his palmy days been, among other things, a general of the
State militia. There seems a fatality in these militia generalships.
Alas! I can recall more than two or three gentlemen who from militia
generals became paupers. I am afraid to think why this is so. Is it
that this military learning in a man of an unmilitary heart--that is,
a gentle, peaceable heart--is an indication of some weak love of vain
display? But ten to one it is not so. At any rate, it is unhandsome, if
not unchristian, in the happy, too much to moralize on those who are
not so.
So numerous were the houses that Jimmy visited, or so cautious was he
in timing his less welcome calls, that at certain mansions he only
dropped in about once a year or so. And annually upon seeing at that
house the blooming Miss Frances or Miss Arabella, he would profoundly
bow in his forlorn old coat, and with his soft, white hand take hers in
gallant-wise, saying, "Ah, Miss Arabella, these jewels here are bright
upon these fingers; but brighter would they look were it not for those
still brighter diamonds of your eyes!"
Though in thy own need thou hadst no pence to give the poor, thou,
Jimmy, still hadst alms to give the rich. For not the beggar chattering
at the corner pines more after bread than the vain heart after
compliment. The rich in their craving glut, as the poor in their
craving want, we have with us always. So, I suppose, thought Jimmy Rose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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