"Hawthorne, Nathaniel - Feathertop A Morlalized Legend" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

1852

TWICE-TOLD TALES

FEATHERTOP: A MORALIZED LEGEND

by Nathaniel Hawthorne

DICKON," cried Mother Rigby, "a coal for my pipe!" The pipe was
in the old dame's mouth when she said these words. She had thrust it
there after filling it with tobacco, but without stooping to light
it at the hearth, where indeed there was no appearance of a fire
having been kindled that morning. Forthwith, however, as soon as the
order was given, there was an intense red glow out of the bowl of
the pipe, and a whiff of smoke from Mother Rigby's lips. Whence the
coal came, and how brought thither by an invisible hand, I have
never been able to discover.

"Good!" quoth Mother Rigby, with a nod of her head. "Thank ye,
Dickon! And now for making this scarecrow. Be within call, Dickon,
in case I need you again."

The good woman had risen thus early (for as yet it was
scarcely sunrise) in order to set about making a scarecrow, which
she intended to put in the middle of her corn-patch. It was now the
latter week of May, and the crows and blackbirds had already
discovered the little, green, rolled-up leaf of the Indian corn just
peeping out of the soil. She was determined, therefore, to contrive as
lifelike a scarecrow as ever was seen, and to finish it immediately,
from top to toe, so that it should begin its sentinel's duty that very
morning. Now Mother Rigby (as everybody must have heard) was one of
the most cunning and potent witches in New England, and might, with
very little trouble, have made a scarecrow ugly enough to frighten the
minister himself. But on this occasion, as she had awakened in an
uncommonly pleasant humor, and was further dulcified by her pipe of
tobacco, she resolved to produce something fine, beautiful, and
splendid, rather than hideous and horrible.

"I don't want to set up a hobgoblin in my own corn-patch, and
almost at my own doorstep," said Mother Rigby to herself, puffing
out a whiff of smoke; "I could do it if I pleased, but I'm tired of
doing marvellous things, and so I'll keep within the bounds of
everyday business just for variety's sake. Besides, there is no use in
scaring the little children for a mile roundabout, though 'tis true
I'm a witch."

It was settled, therefore, in her own mind, that the scarecrow
should represent a fine gentleman of the period, so far as the
materials at hand would allow. Perhaps it may be as well to
enumerate the chief of the articles that went to the composition of