"Hawthorne, Nathaniel - Ethan Brand" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

Brand, the hero of so many a legend familiar to their childhood.
Finding nothing, however, very remarkable in his aspect- nothing but a
sun-burnt wayfarer, in plain garb and dusty shoes, who sat looking
into the fire, as if he fancied pictures among the coals- these
young people speedily grew tired of observing him. As it happened,
there was other amusement at hand. An old German Jew, travelling
with a diorama on his back, was passing down the mountain-road towards
the village just as the party turned aside from it, and, in hopes of
eking out the profits of the day, the showman had kept them company to
the lime-kiln.

"Come, old Dutchman," cried one of the young men, "let us see
your pictures, if you can swear they are worth looking at!"

"O, yes, Captain," answered the Jew- whether as a matter of
courtesy or craft, he styled everybody Captain- "I shall show you,
indeed, some very superb pictures!"

So, placing his box in a proper position, he invited the young
men and girls to look through the glass orifices of the machine, and
proceeded to exhibit a series of the most outrageous scratchings and
daubings, as specimens of the fine arts, that ever an itinerant
showman had the face to impose upon his circle of spectators. The
pictures were worn out, moreover, tattered, full of cracks and
wrinkles, dingy with tobacco-smoke, and otherwise in a most pitiable
condition. Some purported to be cities, public edifices, and ruined
castles in Europe; others represented Napoleon's battles and
Nelson's sea-fights; and in the midst of these would be seen a
gigantic, brown, hairy hand- which might have been mistaken for the
Hand of Destiny, though, in truth, it was only the showman's- pointing
its forefinger to various scenes of the conflict, while its owner gave
historical illustrations. When, with much merriment at its
abominable deficiency of merit, the exhibition was concluded, the
German bade little Joe put his head into the box. Viewed through the
magnifying glasses, the boy's round, rosy visage assumed the strangest
imaginable aspect of an immense Titanic child, the mouth grinning
broadly, and the eyes and every other feature overflowing with fun
at the joke. Suddenly, however, that merry face turned pale, and its
expression changed to horror, for this easily impressed and
excitable child had become sensible that the eye of Ethan Brand was
fixed upon him through the glass.

"You make the little man to be afraid, Captain," said the German
Jew, turning up the dark and strong outline of his visage, from his
stooping posture. "But look again, and, by chance, I shall cause you
to see somewhat that is very fine, upon my word!"

Ethan Brand gazed into the box for an instant, and then starting
back, looked fixedly at the German. What had he seen? Nothing,
apparently; for a curious youth, who had peeped in almost at the