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Файл:The Redskins; or, Indian and Injin
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THE REDSKINS; OR, INDIAN AND INJIN
passion, as she recoiled a step in native modesty, and gazed at
me, when I had made my revelation.
“If such is the case, my young friend,” returned the clergyman, with benevolent interest, “you ought, and might easily be
placed in a better position than this you are now in. Have you
any knowledge of Greek?”
“Certainly – Greek is moch study in Charmany.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I thought.
“And the modern languages – do you understand any of
them?”
“I speaks de five great tongues of Europe, more ast less well;
and I read dem all, easily.”
“The five tongues!” said the clergyman, counting on his fingers; “what can they be, Mary?”
“French, and German, and Spanish, and Italian, I suppose,
sir.”
“These make but four. What can be the fifth, my dear?”
“De yoong laty forgets de Englisch. De Englisch is das
funf.”
“Oh! yes, the English!” exclaimed the pretty creature, pressing her lips together to prevent laughing in my face.
“True – I had forgotten the English, not being accustomed
to think of it as a mere European tongue. I suppose, young man,
you naturally speak the English less fluently than any other of
your five languages?”
“Ya!”
Again the smile struggled to the lips of Mary.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“I feel a deep interest in you as a stranger, and am sorry we
have only met to part so soon. Which way shall you be likely
to direct your steps, my Prussian young friend?”
“I go to a place which is callet Ravensnest – goot place to
sell vatch, dey tells me.”
“Ravensnest!” exclaimed the father.
“Ravensnest!” repeated the daughter, and that in tones
which put the hurdy-gurdy to shame.
“Why, Ravensnest is the place where I live, and the parish
of which I am the clergyman – the Protestant Episcopal clergyman, I mean.”
This, then, was the Rev. Mr. Warren, the divine who had
been called to our church the very summer I left home, and
who had been there ever since! My sister Martha had written
me much concerning these people, and I felt as if I had known
them for years. Mr. Warren was a man of good connections,
and some education, but of no fortune whatever, who had
gone into the Church – it was the church of his ancestors,
one of whom had actually been an English bishop, a century
or two ago – from choice, and contrary to the wishes of his
friends. As a preacher, his success had never been great; but for
the discharge of his duties no man stood higher, and no man
was more respected. The living of St. Andrew’s, Ravensnest,
would have been poor enough, had it depended on the contributions of the parishioners. These last gave about one hundred and fifty dollars a year, for their share of the support of a
priest. I gave another hundred, as regularly as clock-work, and
had been made to do so throughout a long minority; and my
grandmother and sister made up another fifty between them.
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THE REDSKINS; OR, INDIAN AND INJIN
But there was a glebe of fifty acres of capital land, a wood-lot,
and a fund of two thousand dollars at interest; the whole proceeding from endowments made by my grandfather, during
his lifetime. Altogether, the living may have been worth a clear
five hundred dollars a year, in addition to a comfortable house,
hay, wood, vegetables, pasture, and some advantages in the way
of small crops. Few country clergymen were better off than the
rector of St. Andrew’s, Ravensnest, and all as a consequence of
the feudal and aristocratic habits of the Littlepages, though I
say it, perhaps, who might better not, in times like these.
My letters had told me that the Rev. Mr. Warren was a
widower; that Mary was his only child; that he was a truly pious, not a sham-pious, and really zealous clergyman; a man
of purest truth, whose word was gospel – of great simplicity
and integrity of mind and character; that he never spoke evil
of others, and that a complaint of this world and its hardships
seldom crossed his lips. He loved his fellow-creatures, both
naturally and on principle; mourned over the state of the diocese, and greatly preferred piety even to high-churchism. Highchurchman he was, nevertheless; though it was not a highchurchmanship that outweighed the loftier considerations of
his Christian duties, and left him equally without opinions of
his own in matters of morals, and without a proper respect, in
practice, for those that he had solemnly vowed to maintain.
His daughter was described as a sweet-tempered, arch, modest, sensible, and well-bred girl, that had received a far better
education than her father’s means would have permitted him
to bestow, through the liberality and affection of a widowed
sister of her mother’s, who was affluent, and had caused her to
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
attend the same school as that to which she had sent her own
daughters. In a word, she was a most charming neighbor; and
her presence at Ravensnest had rendered Martha’s annual visits to the “old house” (built in 1785) not only less irksome,
but actually pleasant. Such had been my sister’s account of the
Warrens and their qualities, throughout a correspondence of
five years. I have even fancied that she loved this Mary Warren better than she loved any of her uncle’s wards, herself of
course excepted.
The foregoing flashed through my mind, the instant the
clergyman announced himself; but the coincidence of our
being on the way to the same part of the country, seemed to
strike him as forcibly as it did myself. What Mary thought of
the matter, I had no means of ascertaining.
“This is singular enough,” resumed Mr. Warren. “What has
directed your steps toward Ravensnest?”
“Dey tell mine ooncle ‘tis goot place to sell moch vatch.”
“You have an uncle, then? Ah! I see him there in the street,
showing a watch at this moment to a gentleman. Is your uncle
a linguist, too, and has he been as well educated as you seem
to be yourself?”
“Certain – he moch more of a shentleman dan ast de shentleman to whom he now sell vatch.”
“These must be the very persons,” put in Mary, a little eagerly, “of whom Mr. Newcome spoke, as the” – the dear girl
did not like to say pedlers, after what I had told them of my
origin; so she added – “dealers in watches and trinkets, who
intended to visit our part of the country.”
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THE REDSKINS; OR, INDIAN AND INJIN
“You are right, my dear, and the whole matter is now clear.
Mr. Newcome said he expected them to join us at Troy, when
we should proceed in the train together as far as Saratoga. But
here comes Opportunity herself, and her brother cannot be
far off.”
At that moment, sure enough, my old acquaintance, Opportunity Newcome, came into the room, a public parlor, with
an air of great self-satisfaction, and a nonchalance of manner
that was not a little more peculiar to herself than it is to most
of her caste. I trembled for my disguise, since, to be quite frank
on a very delicate subject, Opportunity had made so very dead
a set at me – “setting a cap” is but a pitiful phrase to express
the assault I had to withstand – as scarcely to leave a hope that
her feminine instinct, increased and stimulated with the wish
to be mistress of the Nest house, could possibly overlook the
thousand and one personal peculiarities that must still remain
about one whose personal peculiarities she had made her particular study.
125
CHAPTER VI
“Oh, sic a geek she gave her head,
And sic a toss she gave her feather;
Man, saw ye ne’er a bonnier lass
Before, among the blooming heather?”
– Allan Cunningham.
“Ah! here are some charming French vignettes!” cried Opportunity, running up to a table where lay some inferior colored engravings, that were intended to represent the cardinal
virtues, under the forms of tawdry female beauties. The workmanship was French, as were the inscriptions. Now, Opportunity knew just enough French to translate these inscriptions,
simple and school-girl as they were, as wrong as they could
possibly be translated, under the circumstances.
“La Vertue,” cried Opportunity, in a high, decided way,
as if to make sure of an audience, “The Virtue; La Solitude,”
pronouncing the last word in a desperately English accent,
“The Solitude; La Charité, The Charity. It is really delightful,
Mary, as ‘Sarah Soothings’ would say, to meet with these glimmerings of taste in this wilderness of the world.”
I wondered who the deuce “Sarah Soothings” could be, but
afterward learned this was the nom-de-guerre of a female contributor to the magazines, who, I dare say, silly as she might
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THE REDSKINS; OR, INDIAN AND INJIN
be, was never silly enough to record the sentiments Opportunity had just professed to repeat. As for The la Charité, and The
la Vertue, they did not in the least surprise me; for Martha,
the hussy, often made herself merry by recording that young
lady’s tours de force in French. On one occasion I remember
she wrote me, that when Opportunity wished to say, On est
venu me chercher, instead of saying “I am come for,” in homely
English, which would have been the best of all, she had flown
off in the high flight of “Je suis venue pour.”
Mary smiled, for she comprehended perfectly the difference between la Solitude and the Solitude; but she said nothing. I must acknowledge that I was so indiscreet as to smile
also, though Opportunity’s back being turned toward us, these
mutual signs of intelligence that escaped us both through the
eyes, opened a species of communication that, to me at least,
was infinitely agreeable.
Opportunity, having shown the owner of the strange figure at which she had just glanced on entering the room, that
she had studied French, now turned to take a better look at
him. I have reason to think my appearance did not make a very
happy impression on her; for she tossed her head, drew a chair,
seated herself in the manner most opposed to the descent of
down, and opened her budget of news, without the least regard
to my presence, and apparently with as little attention to the
wishes and tastes of her companions. Her accent, and jumping,
hitching mode of speaking, with the high key in which she
uttered her sentiments, too, all grated on my ears, which had
become a little accustomed to different habits, in young ladies
in particular, in the other hemisphere. I confess myself to be
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
one of those who regard an even, quiet, graceful mode of utterance, as even a greater charm in a woman than beauty. Its
effect is more lasting, and seems to be directly connected with
the character. Mary Warren not only pronounced like one accustomed to good society; but the modulations of her voice,
which was singularly sweet by nature, were even and agreeable, as is usual with well-bred women, and as far as possible
from the jerking, fluttering, now rapid, now drawling manner of Opportunity. Perhaps, in this age of “loose attire,” loose
habits, and free-and-easy deportment, the speech denotes the
gentleman, or the lady, more accurately than any other offhand test.
“Sen is enough to wear out anybody’s patience!” exclaimed
Opportunity. “We must quit Troy in half an hour; and I have
visits that I ought to pay to Miss Jones, and Miss White, and
Miss Black, and Miss Green, and Miss Brown, and three or four
others; and I can’t get him to come near me.”
“Why not go alone?” asked Mary, quietly. “It is but a step to
two or three of the houses, and you cannot possibly lose your
way. I will go with you, if you desire it.”
“Oh! lose my way? no, indeed! I know it too well for that. I
wasn’t educated in Troy, not to know something of the streets.
But it looks so, to see a young lady walking in the streets without a beau! I never wish to cross a room in company without a
beau: much less to cross a street. No; if Sen don’t come in soon,
I shall miss seeing every one of my friends, and that will be a
desperate disappointment to us all; but it can’t be helped; walk
without a beau I will not, if I never see one of them again.”
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THE REDSKINS; OR, INDIAN AND INJIN
“Will you accept of me, Miss Opportunity?” asked Mr. Warren. “It will afford me pleasure to be of service to you.”
“Lord! Mr. Warren, you don’t think of setting up for a beau
at your time of life, do you? Everybody would see that you’re a
clergyman, and I might just as well go alone. No, if Sen don’t
come in at once, I must lose my visits; and the young ladies
will be so put about it, I know! Araminta Maria wrote me, in
the most particular manner, never to go through Troy without
stopping to see her, if I didn’t see another mortal; and Kather-
ine Clotilda has as much as said she would never forgive me if
I passed her door. But Seneca cares no more for the friendship
of young ladies, than he does” – Miss Newcome pronounced
this word “doos,” notwithstanding her education, as she did
“been,” “ben,” and fifty others just as much out of the common
way – “But Seneca cares no more for the friendship of young
ladies, than he does for the young patroon. I declare, Mr. Warren, I believe Sen will go crazy unless the anti-renters soon get
the best of it; he does nothing but think and talk of ‘rents,’ and
‘aristocracy,’ and ‘poodle usages,’ from morning till night.”
We all smiled at the little mistake of Miss Opportunity,
but it was of no great consequence; and I dare say she knew
what she meant as well as most others who use the same term,
though they spell it more accurately. “Poodle usages” are quite
as applicable to anything now existing in America, as “feudal
usages.”
“Your brother is, then, occupied with a matter of the last
importance to the community of which he is a member,” answered the clergyman, gravely. “On the termination of this
anti-rent question hangs, in my judgment, a vast amount of
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
the future character, and much of the future destiny, of New
York.”
“I wonder, now? I’m surprised to hear you say this, Mr.
Warren, for generally you’re thought to be unfriendly to the
movement. Sen says, however, that everything looks well, and
that he believes the tenants will get their lands throughout
the State before they’ve done with it. He tells me we shall have
Injins enough this summer at Ravensnest. The visit of old Mrs.
Littlepage has raised a spirit that will not easily be put down,
he says.”
“And why should the visit of Mrs. Littlepage to the house of
her grandson, and to the house built by her own husband, and
in which she passed the happiest days of her life, ‘raise a spirit,’
as you call it, in any one in that part of the country?”
“Oh! you’re Episcopal, Mr. Warren; and we all know how
the Episcopals feel about such matters. But, for my part, I don’t
think the Littlepages are a bit better than the Newcomes,
though I won’t liken them to some I could name at Ravensnest; but I don’t think they are any better than you, yourself;
and why should they ask so much more of the law than other
folks?”
“I am not aware that they do ask more of the law than others; and, if they do, I’m sure they obtain less. The law in this
country is virtually administered by jurors, who take good care
to graduate justice, so far as they can, by a scale suited to their
own opinions, and, quite often, to their prejudices. As the last
are so universally opposed to persons in Mrs. Littlepage’s class
in life, if there be a chance to make her suffer, it is pretty certain it will be improved.”
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