i and my chimney- 第3部分

not　only　to　keep　them　comfortable；　but　also　to　keep　off　wolves；

and　other　savage　monsters；　so　my　chimney；　by　its　obvious　smoke　at

top；　keeps　off　prowling　burglars　from　the　townsfor　what　burglar

or　murderer　would　dare　break　into　an　abode　from　whose　chimney

issues　such　a　continual　smokebetokening　that　if　the　inmates　are

not　stirring；　at　least　fires　are；　and　in　case　of　an　alarm；

candles　may　readily　be　lighted；　to　say　nothing　of　muskets。　



But　stately　as　is　the　chimneyyea；　grand　high　altar　as　it　is；

right　worthy　for　the　celebration　of　high　mass　before　the　Pope　of

Rome；　and　all　his　cardinalsyet　what　is　there　perfect　in　this

world？　Caius　Julius　Caesar；　had　he　not　been　so　inordinately

great；　they　say　that　Brutus；　Cassius；　Antony；　and　the　rest；　had

been　greater。　My　chimney；　were　it　not　so　mighty　in　its　magnitude；

my　chambers　had　been　larger。　How　often　has　my　wife　ruefully　told

me；　that　my　chimney；　like　the　English　aristocracy；　casts　a

contracting　shade　all　round　it。　She　avers　that　endless　domestic

inconveniences　arisemore　particularly　from　the　chimney's

stubborn　central　locality。　The　grand　objection　with　her　is；　that

it　stands　midway　in　the　place　where　a　fine　entrance…hall　ought　to

be。　In　truth；　there　is　no　hall　whatever　to　the　housenothing　but

a　sort　of　square　landing…place；　as　you　enter　from　the　wide　front

door。　A　roomy　enough　landing…place；　I　admit；　but　not　attaining　to

the　dignity　of　a　hall。　Now；　as　the　front　door　is　precisely　in　the

middle　of　the　front　of　the　house；　inwards　it　faces　the　chimney。

In　fact；　the　opposite　wall　of　the　landing…place　is　formed　solely

by　the　chimney；　and　hence…owing　to　the　gradual　tapering　of　the

chimneyis　a　little　less　than　twelve　feet　in　width。　Climbing　the

chimney　in　this　part；　is　the　principal　staircasewhich；　by　three

abrupt　turns；　and　three　minor　landing…places；　mounts　to　the

second　floor；　where；　over　the　front　door；　runs　a　sort　of　narrow

gallery；　something　less　than　twelve　feet　long；　leading　to

chambers　on　either　hand。　This　gallery；　of　course；　is　railed；　and

so；　looking　down　upon　the　stairs；　and　all　those　landing…places

together；　with　the　main　one　at　bottom；　resembles　not　a　little　a

balcony　for　musicians；　in　some　jolly　old　abode；　in　times

Elizabethan。　Shall　I　tell　a　weakness？　I　cherish　the　cobwebs

there；　and　many　a　time　arrest　Biddy　in　the　act　of　brushing　them

with　her　broom；　and　have　many　a　quarrel　with　my　wife　and

daughters　about　it。　



Now　the　ceiling；　so　to　speak；　of　the　place　where　you　enter　the

house；　that　ceiling　is；　in　fact；　the　ceiling　of　the　second　floor；

not　the　first。　The　two　floors　are　made　one　here；　so　that

ascending　this　turning　stairs；　you　seem　going　up　into　a　kind　of

soaring　tower；　or　lighthouse。　At　the　second　landing；　midway　up

the　chimney；　is　a　mysterious　door；　entering　to　a　mysterious

closet；　and　here　I　keep　mysterious　cordials；　of　a　choice；

mysterious　flavor；　made　so　by　the　constant　nurturing　and　subtle

ripening　of　the　chimney's　gentle　heat；　distilled　through　that

warm　mass　of　masonry。　　Better　for　wines　is　it　than　voyages　to　the

Indias；　my　chimney　itself　a　tropic。　A　chair　by　my　chimney　in　a

November　day　is　as　good　for　an　invalid　as　a　long　season　spent　in

Cuba。　Often　I　think　how　grapes　might　ripen　against　my　chimney。　

How　my　wife's　geraniums　bud　there！　Bud　in　December。　Her　eggs；

toocan't　keep　them　near　the　chimney；　an　account　of　the

hatching。　Ah；　a　warm　heart　has　my　chimney。　



How　often　my　wife　was　at　me　about　that　projected　grand

entrance…hall　of　hers；　which　was　to　be　knocked　clean　through　the

chimney；　from　one　end　of　the　house　to　the　other；　and　astonish　all

guests　by　its　generous　amplitude。　〃But；　wife；〃　said　I；　〃the

chimneyconsider　the　chimney：　if　you　demolish　the　foundation；

what　is　to　support　the　superstructure？〃　〃Oh；　that　will　rest　on

the　second　floor。〃　The　truth　is；　women　know　next　to　nothing　about

the　realities　of　architecture。　　However；　my　wife　still　talked　of

running　her　entries　and　partitions。　She　spent　many　long　nights

elaborating　her　plans；　in　imagination　building　her　boasted　hall

through　the　chimney；　as　though　its　high　mightiness　were　a　mere

spear　of　sorrel…top。　At　last；　I　gently　reminded　her　that；　little

as　she　might　fancy　it；　the　chimney　was　a　facta　sober；

substantial　fact；　which；　in　all　her　plannings；　it　would　be　well

to　take　into　full　consideration。　But　this　was　not　of　much　avail。　



And　here；　respectfully　craving　her　permission；　I　must　say　a　few

words　about　this　enterprising　wife　of　mine。　Though　in　years

nearly　old　as　myself；　in　spirit　she　is　young　as　my　little　sorrel

mare；　Trigger；　that　threw　me　last　fall。　What　is　extraordinary；

though　she　comes　of　a　rheumatic　family；　she　is　straight　as　a

pine；　never　has　any　aches；　while　for　me　with　the　sciatica；　I　am

sometimes　as　crippled　up　as　any　old　apple…tree。　But　she　has　not

so　much　as　a　toothache。　As　for　her　hearinglet　me　enter　the

house　in　my　dusty　boots；　and　she　away　up　in　the　attic。　And　for

her　sightBiddy；　the　housemaid；　tells　other　people's　housemaids；

that　her　mistress　will　spy　a　spot　on　the　dresser　straight　through

the　pewter　platter；　put　up　on　purpose　to　hide　it。　Her　faculties

are　alert　as　her　limbs　and　her　senses。　No　danger　of　my　spouse

dying　of　torpor。　The　longest　night　in　the　year　I've　known　her　lie

awake；　planning　her　campaign　for　the　morrow。　She　is　a　natural

projector。　The　maxim；　〃Whatever　is；　is　right；〃　is　not　hers。　Her

maxim　is；　Whatever　is；　is　wrong；　and　what　is　more；　must　be

altered；　and　what　is　still　more；　must　be　altered　right　away。

Dreadful　maxim　for　the　wife　of　a　dozy　old　dreamer　like　me；　who

dote　on　seventh　days　as　days　of　rest；　and　out　of　a　sabbatical

horror　of　industry；　will；　on　a　week　day；　go　out　of　

my　road　a　quarter　of　a　mile；　to　avoid　the　sight　of　a　man　at　work。



That　matches　are　made　in　heaven；　may　be；　but　my　wife　would　have

been　just　the　wife　for　Peter　the　Great；　or　Peter　the　Piper。　How

she　would　have　set　in　order　that　huge　littered　empire　of　the　one；

and　with　indefatigable　painstaking　picked　the　peck　of　pickled

peppers　for　the　other。　



But　the　most　wonderful　thing　is；　my　wife　never　thinks　of　her　end。

Her　youthful　incredulity；　as　to　the　plain　theory；　and　still

plainer　fact　of　death；　hardly　seems　Christian。　Advanced　in　years；

as　she　knows　she　must　be；　my　wife　seems　to　think　that　she　is　to

teem　on；　and　be　inexhaustible　forever。　She　doesn't　believe　in　old

age。　At　that　strange　promise　in　the　plain　of　Mamre；　my　old　wife；

unlike　old　Abraham's；　would　not　have　jeeringly　laughed　within

herself。　



Judge　how　to　me；　who；　sitting　in　the　comfortable　shadow　of　my

chimney；　smoking　my　comfortable　pipe；　with　ashes　not　unwelcome　at

my　feet；　and　ashes　not　unwelcome　all　but　in　my　mouth；　and　who　am

thus　in　a　comfortable　sort　of　not　unwelcome；　though；　indeed；　ashy

enough　way；　reminded　of　the　ultimate　exhaustion　even　of　the　most

fiery　life；　judge　how　to　me　this　unwarrantable　vitality　in　my

wife　must　come；　sometimes；　it　is　true；　with　a　moral　and　a　calm；

but　oftener　with　a　breeze　and　a　ruffle。　



If　the　doctrine　be　true；　that　in　wedlock　contraries　attract；　by

how　cogent　a　fatality　must　I　have　been　drawn　to　my　wife！　While

spicily　impatient　of　present　and　past；　like　a　glass　of

ginger…beer　she　overflows　with　her　schemes；　and；　with　like　energy

as　she　puts　down　her　foot；　puts　down　her　preserves　and　her

pickles；　and　lives　with　them　in　a　continual　future；　or　ever　full

of　expectations　both　from　time　and　space；　is　ever　restless　for

newspapers；　and　ravenous　for　letters。　Content　with　the　years　that

are　gone；　taking　no　thought　for　the　morrow；　and　looking　for　no

new　thing　from　any　person　or　quarter　whatever；　I　have　not　a

single　scheme　or　expectation　on　earth；　save　in　unequal　resistance

of　the　undue　encroachment　of　hers。　



Old　myself；　I　take　to　oldness　in　things；　for　that　cause　mainly

loving　old　Montague；　and　old　cheese；　and　old　wine；　and　eschewing

young　people；　hot　rolls；　new　books；　and　early　potatoes　and　very

fond　of　my　old　claw…footed　chair；　and　old　club…footed　Deacon

White；　my　neighbor；　and　that　still　nigher　old　neighbor；　my

betwisted　old　grape…vine；　that　of　a　summer　evening　leans　in　his

elbow　for　cosy　company　at　my　window…sill；　while　I；　within　doors；

lean　over　mine　to　meet　his；　and　above　all；　high　above　all；　am

fond　of　my　high…mantled　old　chimney。　But　she；　out　of　the

infatuate　juvenility　of　hers；　takes　to　nothing　but　newness；　for

that　cause　mainly；　loving　new　cider　in　autumn；　and　in　spring；　as

if　she　were　own　daughter　of　Nebuchadnezzar；　fairly　raving　after

all　sorts　of　salads　and　spinages；　and　more　particularly　green

cucumbers　（though　all　the　time　nature　rebukes　such　unsuitable

young　hankerings　in　so　elderlv　a　person；　by　never　permitting　such

things　to　agree　with　her）；　and　has　an　itch　after　recently…

discovered　fine　prospects　（so　no　graveyard　be　in　the　background）；

and　also　after　Sweden…borganism；　and　the　Spirit　Rapping

philosophy；　with　other　new　views；　alike　in　things　natural　and

unnatura