The Seven Vagabonds (From "Twice Told Tales")Hawthorne, Nathaniel
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The Seven Vagabonds (From "Twice Told Tales")
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
“Ah,” said the gay damsel, “you might as well ask where the summer
wind is going. We are wanderers here, and there, and everywhere.
Wherever there is mirth, our merry hearts are drawn to it. To-day,
indeed, the people have told us of a great frolic and festival in
these parts; so perhaps we may be needed at what you call the
camp-meeting at Stamford.”
Then in my happy youth, and while her pleasant voice yet sounded in my
ears, I sighed; for none but myself, I thought, should have been her
companion in a life which seemed to realize my own wild fancies,
cherished all through visionary boyhood to that hour. To these two
strangers the world was in its golden age, not that indeed it was less
dark and sad than ever, but because its weariness and sorrow had no
community with their ethereal nature. Wherever they might appear in
their pilgrimage of bliss, Youth would echo back their gladness,
care-stricken Maturity would rest a moment from its toil, and Age,
tottering among the graves, would smile in withered joy for their
sakes. The lonely cot, the narrow and gloomy street, the sombre
shade, would catch a passing gleam like that now shining on ourselves,
as these bright spirits wandered by. Blessed pair, whose happy home
was throughout all the earth! I looked at my shoulders, and thought
them broad enough to sustain those pictured towns and mountains; mine,
too, was an elastic foot, as tireless as the wing of the bird of
paradise; mine was then an untroubled heart, that would have gone
singing on its delightful way.
“O maiden!” said I aloud, “why did you not come hither alone?”
While the merry girl and myself were busy with the show-box, the
unceasing rain had driven another wayfarer into the wagon. He seemed
pretty nearly of the old showman’s age, but much smaller, leaner, and
more withered than he, and less respectably clad in a patched suit of
gray; withal, he had a thin, shrewd countenance, and a pair of
diminutive gray eyes, which peeped rather too keenly out of their
puckered sockets. This old fellow had been joking with the showman,
in a manner which intimated previous acquaintance; but perceiving that
the damsel and I had terminated our affairs, he drew forth a folded
document, and presented it to me. As I had anticipated, it proved to
be a circular, written in a very fair and legible hand, and signed by
several distinguished gentlemen whom I had never heard of, stating
that the bearer had encountered every variety of misfortune, and
recommending him to the notice of all charitable people. Previous
disbursements had left me no more than a five-dollar bill, out of
which, however, I offered to make the beggar a donation, provided he
would give me change for it. The object of my beneficence looked
keenly in my face, and discerned that, I had none of that abominable
spirit, characteristic though it be, of a full-blooded Yankee, which
takes pleasure in detecting every little harmless piece of knavery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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