a girl of the limberlost-第66部分

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hour　to　put　an　idea　into　our　heads　that　will　stick　for　a　lifetime；

and　grow　for　good。　　That's　the　way　I　look　at　your　job。　　Now；　what

are　you　going　to　give　us？　　We　don't　want　any　old　silly　stuff

that　has　been　hashed　over　and　over；　we　want　a　big　new　idea

to　plant　in　our　hearts。　　Come　on；　Miss　Teacher；　what　is　the

boiled…down；　double…distilled　essence　of　June？　　Give　it　to

us　strong。　　We　are　large　enough　to　furnish　it　developing　ground。　

Hurry　up！　　Time　is　short　and　we　are　waiting。　　What　is　the

miracle　of　June？　　What　one　thing　epitomizes　the　whole　month；

and　makes　it　just　a　little　different　from　any　other？〃



〃The　birth　of　these　big　night　moths；〃　said　Elnora　promptly。



Philip　clapped　his　hands。　　The　tears　started　to　Mrs。

Comstock's　eyes。　　She　took　Elnora　in　her　arms；　and　kissed

her　forehead。



〃You'll　do！〃　she　said。　　〃June　is　June；　not　because　it

has　bloom；　bird；　fruit；　or　flower；　exclusive　to　it　alone。



It's　half　May　and　half　July　in　all　of　them。　　But　to　me；

it's　just　June；　when　it　comes　to　these　great；　velvet…winged

night　moths　which　sweep　its　moonlit　skies；　consummating

their　scheme　of　creation；　and　dropping　like　a　bloomed…

out　flower。　　Give　them　moths　for　June。　　Then　make　that

the　basis　of　your　year's　work。　　Find　the　distinctive　feature

of　each　month；　the　one　thing　which　marks　it　a　time　apart；

and　hit　them　squarely　between　the　eyes　with　it。　　Even　the

babies　of　the　lowest　grades　can　comprehend　moths　when

they　see　a　few　emerge；　and　learn　their　history；　as　it　can　be

lived　before　them。　　You　should　show　your　specimens　in

pairs；　then　their　eggs；　the　growing　caterpillars；　and　then

the　cocoons。　　You　want　to　dig　out　the　red　heart　of　every

month　in　the　year；　and　hold　it　pulsing　before　them。



〃I　can't　name　all　of　them　off…hand；　but　I　think　of　one

more　right　now。　　February　belongs　to　our　winter　birds。　

It　is　then　the　great　horned　owl　of　the　swamp　courts　his

mate；　the　big　hawks　pair；　and　even　the　crows　begin　to

take　notice。　　These　are　truly　our　birds。　　Like　the　poor

we　have　them　always　with　us。　　You　should　hear　the　musicians

of　this　swamp　in　February；　Philip；　on　a　mellow　night。　

Oh；　but　they　are　in　earnest！　　For　twenty…one　years　I've

listened　by　night　to　the　great　owls；　all　the　smaller　sizes；

the　foxes；　coons；　and　every　resident　left　in　these　woods；

and　by　day　to　the　hawks；　yellow…hammers；　sap…suckers；

titmice；　crows；　and　other　winter　birds。　　Only　just　now　it's

come　to　me　that　the　distinctive　feature　of　February　is　not

linen　bleaching；　nor　sugar　making；　it's　the　love　month　of　our

very　own　birds。　　Give　them　hawks　and　owls　for　February；　Elnora。〃



With　flashing　eyes　the　girl　looked　at　Philip。　　〃How's　that？〃

she　said。　　〃Don't　you　think　I　will　succeed；　with　such　help？　

You　should　hear　the　concert　she　is　talking　about！　　It　is

simply　indescribable　when　the　ground　is　covered　with　snow；

and　the　moonlight　white。〃



〃It's　about　the　best　music　we　have；〃　said　Mrs。　Comstock。　

〃I　wonder　if　you　couldn't　copy　that　and　make　a　strong；

original　piece　out　of　it　for　your　violin；　Elnora？〃



There　was　one　tense　breath；　then　　〃I　could　try；〃　said

Elnora　simply。



Philip　rushed　to　the　rescue。　　〃We　must　go　to　work；〃　he

said；　and　began　examining　a　walnut　branch　for　Luna　moth　eggs。　

Elnora　joined　him　while　Mrs。　Comstock　drew　her　embroidery

from　her　pocket　and　sat　on　a　log。　　She　said　she　was　tired；

they　could　come　for　her　when　they　were　ready　to　go。　

She　could　hear　their　voices　around　her　until　she　called

them　at　supper　time。　　When　they　came　to　her　she　stood

waiting　on　the　trail；　the　sewing　in　one　hand；　the

violin　in　the　other。　　Elnora　became　very　white；　but

followed　the　trail　without　a　word。　　Philip；　unable　to　see

a　woman　carry　a　heavier　load　than　he；　reached　for

the　instrument。　　Mrs。　Comstock　shook　her　head。　　She　carried

the　violin　home；　took　it　into　her　room　and　closed　the　door。　

Elnora　turned　to　Philip。



〃If　she　destroys　that；　I　shall　die！〃　cried　the　girl。



〃She　won't！〃　said　Philip。　　〃You　misunderstand　her。　

She　wouldn't　have　said　what　she　did　about　the　owls；　if

she　had　meant　to。　　She　is　your　mother。　　No　one　loves

you　as　she　does。　　Trust　her！　　MyselfI　think　she's

simply　great！〃



Mrs。　Comstock　returned　with　serene　face；　and　all　of

them　helped　with　the　supper。　　When　it　was　over　Philip

and　Elnora　sorted　and　classified　the　afternoon's　specimens；

and　made　a　trip　to　the　woods　to　paint　and　light　several

trees　for　moths。　　When　they　came　back　Mrs。　Comstock

sat　in　the　arbour；　and　they　joined　her。　　The　moonlight

was　so　intense；　print　could　have　been　read　by　it。　

The　damp　night　air　held　odours　near　to　earth；　making

flower　and　tree　perfume　strong。　　A　thousand　insects　were

serenading；　and　in　the　maple　the　grosbeak　occasionally

said　a　reassuring　word　to　his　wife；　while　she　answered

that　all　was　well。　　A　whip…poor…will　wailed　in　the　swamp　and

beside　the　blue…bordered　pool　a　chat　complained　disconsolately。　

Mrs。　Comstock　went　into　the　cabin；　but　she　returned　immediately；

laying　the　violin　and　bow　across　Elnora's　lap。　　〃I　wish　you

would　give　us　a　little　music；〃　she　said。









CHAPTER　XVII





WHEREIN　MRS。　COMSTOCK　DANCES　IN　THE　MOONLIGHT；

AND　ELNORA　MAKES　A　CONFESSION





Billy　was　swinging　in　the　hammock；　at　peace　with　himself

and　all　the　world；　when　he　thought　he　heard　something。　

He　sat　bolt　upright；　his　eyes　staring。　　Once　he　opened

his　lips；　then　thought　again　and　closed　them。　

The　sound　persisted。　　Billy　vaulted　the　fence；

and　ran　down　the　road　with　his　queer　sidewise　hop。　

When　he　neared　the　Comstock　cabin；　he　left　the

warm　dust　of　the　highway　and　stepped　softly　at　slower

pace　over　the　rank　grasses　of　the　roadside。　　He　had

heard　aright。　　The　violin　was　in　the　grape　arbour；

singing　a　perfect　jumble　of　everything；　poured　out　in

an　exultant　tumult。　　The　strings　were　voicing　the　joy　of

a　happy　girl　heart。



Billy　climbed　the　fence　enclosing　the　west　woods　and

crept　toward　the　arbour。　　He　was　not　a　spy　and　not　a　sneak。　

He　merely　wanted　to　satisfy　his　child…heart　as　to

whether　Mrs。　Comstock　was　at　home；　and　Elnora　at　last

playing　her　loved　violin　with　her　mother's　consent。　

One　peep　sufficed。　　Mrs。　Comstock　sat　in　the　moonlight；

her　head　leaning　against　the　arbour；　on　her　face　was　a

look　of　perfect　peace　and　contentment。　　As　he　stared　at

her　the　bow　hesitated　a　second　and　Mrs。　Comstock　spoke：



〃That's　all　very　melodious　and　sweet；〃　she　said；　〃but　I

do　wish　you　could　play　Money　Musk　and　some　of　the

tunes　I　danced　as　a　girl。〃



Elnora　had　been　carefully　avoiding　every　note　that

might　be　reminiscent　of　her　father。　　At　the　words　she

laughed　softly　and　began　〃Turkey　in　the　Straw。〃　

An　instant　later　Mrs。　Comstock　was　dancing　in　the

moon　light。　　Ammon　sprang　to　her　side；　caught　her　in

his　arms；　while　to　Elnora's　laughter　and　the　violin's

impetus　they　danced　until　they　dropped　panting　on　the

arbour　bench。



Billy　scarcely　knew　when　he　reached　the　road。　　His　li