ntorumblewithsuchemphasisthatIcoulddonomorethanlistentoit.Thegodsmustbeproud,thoughtI,withsuchforkedflashestoroutapoorunarmedfisherman.SoImadehasteforsheltertothenearesthut,whichstoodhalfamilefromanyroad,butsomuchthenearertothepond,andhadlongbeenuninhabited:—
“Andhereapoetbuilded,
Inthecompletedyears,
Forbeholdatrivialcabin
Thattodestructionsteers.”
SotheMusefables.Buttherein,asIfound,dweltnowJohnField,anIrishman,andhiswife,andseveralchildren,fromthebroad-facedboywhoassistedhisfatherathiswork,andnowcamerunningbyhissidefromthebogtoescapetherain,tothewrinkled,sibyl-like,cone-headedinfantthatsatuponitsfather’skneeasinthepalacesofnobles,andlookedoutfromitshomeinthemidstofwetandhungerinquisitivelyuponthestranger,withtheprivilegeofinfancy,notknowingbutitwasthelastofanobleline,andthehopeandcynosureoftheworld,insteadofJohnField’spoorstarvelingbrat.Therewesattogetherunderthatpartoftheroofwhichleakedtheleast,whileitshoweredandthunderedwithout.IhadsattheremanytimesofoldbeforetheshipwasbuiltthatfloatedhisfamilytoAmerica.Anhonest,hard-working,butshiftlessmanplainlywasJohnFieldandhiswife,shetoowasbravetocooksomanysuccessivedinnersintherecessesofthatloftystovewithroundgreasyfaceandbarebreast,stillthinkingtoimproveherconditiononedaywiththeneverabsentmopinonehand,andyetnoeffectsofitvisibleanywhere.Thechickens,whichhadalsotakenshelterherefromtherain,stalkedabouttheroomlikemembersofthefamily,toohumanizedmethoughttoroastwell.Theystoodandlookedinmyeyeorpeckedatmyshoesignificantly.Meanwhilemyhosttoldmehisstory,howhardheworked“bogging”foraneighboringfarmer,turningupameadowwithaspadeorboghoeattherateoftendollarsanacreandtheuseofthelandwithmanureforoneyear,andhislittlebroad-facedsonworkedcheerfullyathisfather’ssidethewhile,notknowinghowpoorabargainthelatterhadmade.Itriedtohelphimwithmyexperience,tellinghimthathewasoneofmynearestneighbors,andthatItoo,whocamea-fishinghere,andlookedlikealoafer,