The Countess Kathleen O'Shea by William Butler Yates. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Chris Tierney. The Countess Kathleen O'Shea, a folktale retold. A very long time ago, there suddenly appeared in old Ireland two unknown merchants of whom nobody had ever heard, and who nevertheless spoke the language of the country with the greatest perfection. Their locks were black and bound round with gold, and their garments were of rare magnificence. Both seemed of like age. They appeared to be men of fifty, for their foreheads were wrinkled and their beards tinged with gray. In the hostelry where the pompous traders alighted, it was sought to penetrate their designs, but in vain, they led a silent and retired life. And whilst they stopped there, they did nothing but count over and over again out of their money bags, pieces of gold, whose yellow brightness could be seen through the windows of their lodging. Gentlemen, said the landlady one day, how is it that you are so rich in that, being able to sucker the public misery, you do know good works? Fair hostess, replied one of them, we didn't like to present alms to the honest poor, in dread we might be deceived by make-believe poppers. Let want knock at our door, we shall open it. The following day, when the rumor spread that two rich strangers had come, ready to lavish their gold, a crowd besieged their dwelling. But the figures of those who came out were widely different. Some carried pride in their mean, others were shame-faced. The two Chapman traded in souls for the demon. The soul of the aged was worth twenty pieces of gold, not a penny more, for Satan had had time to make his valuation. The soul of a matron was valued at fifty when she was handsome, and a hundred when she was ugly. The soul of a young maid infested an extravagant sum. The freshest and purest flowers are the dearest. At that time there lived in the city an angel of beauty, the Countess Kathleen O'Shea. She was the idol of the people, and the providence of the indigent. As soon as she learned that these miscreants profited by the public misery to steal away hearts from God, she called to her butler. Patrick, she said to him, how many pieces of gold in my coffers? A hundred thousand. How many jewels? The money is worth of the gold. How much property in castles, forests, and lands? Double the rest. Very well, Patrick, sell all that is not gold and bring me the account. I only wish to keep this mansion and the domain that surrounds it. Two days afterwards, the orders of the pious Kathleen were executed, and the treasure was distributed to the poor in proportion to their wants. This, says the tradition, did not suit the purposes of the evil spirit, who found no more souls to purchase. Aided by an infamous servant, they penetrated into the retreat of the noble dame, and perloined from her the rest of her treasure. In vain she struggled with all her strength to save the contents of her coffers. The diabolical thieves were the stronger. If Kathleen had been able to make the sign of the cross, as the legend, she would have put them to flight, but her hands were captive. The larceny was affected. Then the poor called for aid to the plundered Kathleen, alas, to no good. She was able to sucker their misery no longer. She had to abandon them to the temptation. Meanwhile, but eight days had to pass before the grain and provender would arrive in abundance from the western lands. Eight such days were an age. Eight days required an immense sum to relieve the exigencies of the dearth, and the poor should either perish in the agonies of hunger, or, denying the holy maxims of the gospel, vend for base lucre their souls, the richest gift from the bounteous hand of the Almighty. And Kathleen hadn't anything, for she had given up her mansion to the unhappy. She passed twelve hours in tears and mourning, rending her sun-tinted hair and bruising her breast of the whiteness of the lily. Afterwards she stood up, resolute, animated by a vivid sentiment of despair. She went to the traders in souls. What do you want? they said. You buy souls? Yes, a few still in spite of you. Isn't that so, saint, with the eyes of Sapphire? Today I come to offer you a bargain, replied she. What? I have a soul to sell, but it is costly. What does that signify if it is precious? The soul, like the diamond, is appraised by its transparency. It is mine. The two emissaries of Satan started. Their claws were clutched under their gloves of leather. Their grey eyes sparkled. The soul, pure, spotless, virginal of Kathleen. It was a priceless acquisition. Beautious lady, how much do you ask? A hundred and fifty thousand pieces of gold. It's at your service, replied the traders, and they tendered Kathleen's apartment, sealed with black, which she signed with a shutter. The sum was counted out to her. As soon as she got home, she said to the butler, here distribute this, with this money that I give you, the poor can tide over the eight days that remain, and not one of their souls will be delivered to the demon.  Three days passed. She called nobody. She did not come out. When the door was opened, they found her cold and stiff. She was dead of grief. But the sale of this soul, so adorable in its charity, was declared null by the Lord, for she had saved her fellow citizens from eternal death. After the eight days had passed, numerous vessels brought into Famished Ireland immense provisions ingrain. Hunger was no longer possible. As to the traders, they disappeared from their hotel without anyone knowing what became of them. But the fishermen of the Blackwater pretend that they are enchained in a subterranean prison by order of Lucifer, until they shall be able to render up the soul of Kathleen, which escaped from them. End of the Countess Kathleen O'Shea by William Butler Yates. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The History of Tom Thumb by Joseph Jacobs. Read by Emily Lieberman from Faith Christian School, April 2007. In the days of the great Prince Arthur, there lived a mighty magician called Merlin, the most learned and skillful enchanter the world has ever seen. This famous magician, who could take any form he pleased, was traveling about as a poor beggar, and being very tired, he stopped at the cottage of a plowman to rest himself and asked for some food. The country man bade him welcome, and his wife, who was a very good-hearted woman, soon brought him some milk in a wooden bowl and some coarse-brown bread on a platter. Merlin was much pleased with the kindness of the plowman and his wife, but he could not help noticing that though everything was neat and comfortable in the cottage, they both seemed to be very unhappy. He therefore asked them why they were so melancholy and learned that they were miserable because they had no children. The poor woman said with tears in her eyes, I should be the happiest creature in the world if I had a son. Although he was no bigger than my husband's thumb, I would be satisfied. Merlin was so amused with the idea of a boy no bigger than a man's thumb to grant the poor woman's wish. Accordingly, in a short time after, the plowman's wife had a son who, wonderful to relate, was not a bit bigger than his father's thumb. The queen of the fairies, wishing to see the little fellow, came in at the window while the mother was sitting up in the bed admiring him. The queen kissed the child and, giving it the name of Tom Thumb, sent for some fairies who dressed her little godson according to her orders. An oak leaf hat he had for his crown, his shirt of webbed by spider's bun, with jacket wove of thistles down, his trousers were of feathers done. His stockings of apple rind they tie with eyelash from his mother's eye. His shoes were made of mouse's skin, tanned with a downy hair within. Tom never grew any larger than his father's thumb, which was only of ordinary size. But as he got older, he became very cunning and full of tricks. When he was old enough to play with the boys and had lost all his own cherry stones, he used to creep into the bags of his playfellows, fill his pockets, and getting out without their nosing him would again join in the game. One day, however, as he was coming out of a bag of cherry stones where he had been stealing as usual, the boy to whom it belonged chanced to see him.  On saying this, he drew the string tight around his neck and gave the bag such a hearty shake that poor little Tom's legs, thighs, and body were sadly bruised. He roared out with pain and begged to be let out, promising never to steal again. A short time afterwards, his mother was making a batter pudding and Tom being very anxious to see how it was made, climbed up to the edge of the bowl, but his foot slipped without his mother nosing him who stirred him into the pudding bag and put him in the pot to boil. The batter filled Tom's mouth and prevented him from crying, but on feeling the hot water he kicked and struggled so much in the pot that his mother thought that the pudding was bewitched and pulling it out of the pot. She threw it outside the door, a poor tinker who was passing by lifted up the pudding and put it in his budget as Tom had now got his mouth cleared of batter, he then began to cry out loud which so frightened the tinker that he flung down the pudding and ran away. The pudding being broke to pieces by the fall, Tom crept out covered all over with the batter and walked home. His mother who was very sorry to see her darling in such a woeful state put him into a tea cup and soon washed off the batter after which she kissed him In the venture of pudding, Tom's mother went to milk her cow in the meadow and she took him along with her as the wind was very high for fear of being blown away she tied him to a thistle with a piece of fine thread. The cow soon observed Tom's oak leaf hat and liking the appearance of it took poor Tom and the thistle at one mouthful while the cow was chewing the thistle Tom was afraid of her great teeth which threatened to crush him in pieces and he roared as loud as he could Mother! Mother! Where are you Tommy?  Tom's father made him a whip of barley straw to drive the cattle with and having one day gone into the fields Tom slipped a foot and rolled into the furrow A raven which was flying over picked him up and flew with him over the sea and there dropped him A large fish swallowed Tom the moment he fell in the sea which was soon after caught and bought for the table of King Arthur When they opened the fish in order to cook it it was astonishing to find such a little boy Tom was quite delighted at being free again. They carried him to the king who made Tom his dwarf and he soon began a great favorite at the court for by his tricks and gambles he not only amused the king and queens but also all the knights of the round table It is said that when the king rode out on horseback he often took Tom along with him and if a shower came on he used to creep into his Majesty's where he slept till the rain was over King Arthur one day asked Tom about his parents wishing to know if they were as small as he was and whether they were well off Tom told the king that his father and mother were as tall as anybody about the court but in rather poor circumstances on hearing this the king carried him to his treasury the place where he kept all his money and told him to take as much money as he could carry home to his parents which made the poor little fellow Tom went immediately to procure a purse which was made of a water and then returned to the treasury where he received a silver three penny piece to put into it our little hero had some difficulty in lifting the burden upon his back but he at last exceeded in getting it placed to his mind and set forward on his journey however without meeting with any accident and after resting himself more than a hundred times by the way in two days and two nights he reached his father's house in safety Tom had traveled 48 hours with a huge silver piece on his back and was almost tired to death when his mother ran out to meet him and carried him into the house but he soon returned to court as Tom's clothes had suffered much in the batter pudding and the inside the fish his majesty ordered him a new suit of clothes and to be mounted as night on a mouse of butterflies wings his shirt was made his boots of chickens hide and by a nimble fairy blade will learn in the tailoring trade his clothing was supplies and needle dangled by his side a tapered mouse he used to ride thus strutted Tom in stately pride it was certainly very diverting to see Tom in this dress and mounted on the mounts as he rode out hunting with the king in nobility who were all ready to expire with laughter at Tom and his fine prancing charger the king was so charmed with his address that he ordered a little chair to be made in order that Tom might sit upon his table and also a palace of gold a span high with a door and inch wide to live in he also gave him a coach drawn by six small mice the queen was so enraged at the honors conferred on Sir Thomas that she resolved to ruin him and told the king that the little night had been saucy to her the king sent for Tom in great haste but being fully aware of the danger of royal anger he crept into an empty snail shell where he lay for a long time until he was almost starved with hunger but at last he ventured to peep out and seeing a fine large butterfly on the ground near the place of his concealment he got close to it and jumping as dried on it was carried up into the air the butterfly flew with him from tree to tree and from field to field and at last returned to the port where the king in nobility all strove to catch him but at last poor Tom fell from his seat into a watering pot in which he was almost drowned when the queen saw him she was enraged and said he should be beheaded and he was again put into a mouse trap until the time of his execution however a cat observing something alive in the trap patted it upon until the wires broke and set Thomas at liberty the king received Tom again into which he did not live to enjoy for a large spider one day attacked him and although he drew his sword and fought well yet the spiders poisonous breath at last overcame him he fell dead on the ground where he stood and the spiders sucked every drop of his blood king Arthur and his whole court were so sorry at the loss of their little favorite that they went into mourning and raised a fine white marble monument over his grave with the following epitaph here lies Tom thumb king Arthur's night who died by a spider's cruel bite he was well known in Arthur's court where he afforded gallant sport he wrote a till in tournament and on a mouse hunting went alive he filled the court with mirth his death to sorrow soon gave birth wipe wipe your eyes and shake your head and cry at last Tom thumb is dead and of the history of Tom thumb by Joseph Jacobs John and I by Stephen Leacock this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org read by Deborah Lynn in northern lower Michigan April 2007 John and I or how I nearly lost my husband narrated after the approved fashion of the best art and home magazines it was after we had been married about two years that I began to feel that I needed more air every time I looked at John across the breakfast table I felt as if I must have more air more space I seem to feel as if I had no room to expand I had begun to ask myself whether I had been wise in marrying John whether John was really sufficient for my development I felt cramped and shut in in spite of myself the question would arise in my mind whether John really understood my nature he had a way of reading the newspaper propped up against the sugar bowl at breakfast that somehow made me feel as if things had gone all wrong it was bitter to realize that the time had come when John could prefer the newspaper to his wife's society but perhaps I had better go back and tell the whole miserable story from the beginning I shall never forget the most no woman ever does the evening when John first spoke out his love for me I had felt for some time past that it was there again and again he seemed about to speak but somehow his words seemed to fail him twice I took him into the very heart of the little wood beside mother's house but it was only a small wood and somehow he slipped out on the other side oh John I had said how lonely and still it seems in the wood no one here but ourselves do you think I said that the birds have souls I don't know John answered let's get out of this I was sure that his emotion was too strong for him I never feel a bit lonesome where you are John I said as we made our way among the underbrush I think we can get out down that little gully he answered then one evening in June after tea I led John down a path beside the house there was a little corner behind the garden where there was a stone wall on one side and a high fence right in front of us and thorn bushes on the other side there was a little bench in the angle of the wall and the fence and we sat down on it Minnie John said there's something I meant to say oh John I cried and I flung my arms around his neck it all came with such a flood of surprise all I meant and John went on but I checked him oh don't John don't say anything more I said it's just too perfect then I rose and seized him by the wrist come I said come to mother and I rushed him along the path as soon as mother saw us come hand in hand in this way she guessed everything she threw both her arms around John's neck and fairly pinned him against the wall John tried to speak but mother wouldn't let him I saw it all along John she said don't speak don't say a word I missed your love for men from the very start I don't know what I shall do without her John but she's yours now take her then mother began to cry and I couldn't help crying too take him to father mother said and we each took one of John's wrists and took him to father on the back veranda as soon as John saw father he tried to speak again I think I ought to say he began but mother stopped him father she said he wants to take our little girl away he loves her very dearly Alfred she said and I think it our duty to let her go no matter how hard it is and oh please heaven Alfred he'll treat her well and not misuse her or beat her and she began to sob again father got up and took John by the hand and shook it warmly take her boy he said she's all yours now take her so John and I were engaged and in due time our wedding day came and we were married and remember that for days and days before the wedding day John seemed very nervous and depressed I think he was worrying poor boy as to whether he could really make me happy and whether he could fill my life as it should be filled but I told him that he was not to worry because I meant to be happy and was determined just to make the best of everything father stayed with John a good deal before the wedding day and on the wedding morning he went and fetched the church in a closed carriage and had him there already when we came it was a beautiful day in September and the church looked just lovely I had a beautiful gown of white organdy with tulle at the throat and I carried a great bunch of white roses and father led John up the aisle after me I remember that mother cried a good deal at the wedding and told John that he had stolen her darling and that he must never misuse me or beat me the marriage man spoke very severely to John and told him he hoped he realized the responsibility he was taking and that it was his duty to make me happy a lot of our old friends were there and they all spoke quite sharply to John and all the women kissed me and said they hoped I would never regret what I had done and I just kept up my spirits by sheer determination and told him that I had made up my mind to be happy and that I was going to be so so presently it was all over and we were driven to the station and got the afternoon train for New York and when we sat down in the compartment among all our band boxes and flowers John said well thank god that's over and I said oh John an oath on our wedding day an oath John said I'm sorry man I didn't mean but I said don't John don't make it worse swear at me if you must but don't make it harder to bear we spent our honeymoon in New York at first I had thought of going somewhere to the great lonely woods where I could have walked under the great trees and felt the silence of nature and where John should have been my viking and captured me with his spear and where I should be his and his alone and no other man should share me and John had said all right or else I had planned to go away somewhere to the seashore where I could have watched the great waves dashing themselves against the rocks I had told John that he should be my caveman and should seize me in his arms and carry me with her he would I felt somehow that for my development I wanted to get as close to nature as ever I could that my mind seemed to be reaching out for a great emptiness but I looked over all the hotel and steamship folders I could find and it seemed impossible to get good accommodation so we came to New York I had a great deal of shopping to do for our new house so I could not be much with John but I felt it was not right to neglect him so I drove him somewhere in a taxi each morning and called for him again in the evening one day I took him to the Metropolitan Museum and another day I left him at the zoo and another day at the aquarium John seemed very happy and quiet among the fishes so presently we came back home and I spent many busy days in fixing and arranging our new house I had the drawing room done in blue and the dining room all in dark paneled wood and the boudoir upstairs done in pink and white enamel to match my bedroom and dressing room there was a very nice little room in the basement next to the coal cellar that I turned into a den for John so that when he wanted to smoke he could go down there and do it John seemed to appreciate his den at once and often would stay down there so long that I had to call to him to come up when I look back on those days they seemed very bright and happy but it was not very long before a change came I began to realize that John was neglecting me I noticed it at first in small things I don't know just how long it was after our marriage that John began to read the newspaper at breakfast at first he would only pick it up and read it in little bits and only on the front page I tried not to be hurt at it by talking just as brightly as I could without seeming to notice anything but presently he went on to reading the inside part of the paper and then one day he opened up the financial page and folded the paper right back and lent it against the sugar bowl I could not but wonder whether John's love for me was what it had been was it cooling I asked myself and what was cooling it it hardly seemed possible when I looked back to the wild passion that opposed to me on the garden bench that John's love was waning but I kept noticing different little things one day in the springtime I saw John getting out a lot of fishing tackle from a box and fitting it together I asked him what he was going to do and he said that he was going to fish I went to my room and had a good cry it seemed dreadful that he could neglect his wife for a few worthless fish so I decided to put John to the test it had been my habit every morning after he put his coat on to go to the office to let John have one kiss just one weeny kiss to keep him happy all day so this day when he was getting ready I bent my head over a big bowl of flowers and pretended not to notice I think John must have been hurt as I hurt him still out on tiptoe well I realized that things had come to a dreadful state and so I sent over to mother and mother came who would cry together I made up my mind to force myself to face things and just to be as bright as ever I could mother and I both thought that things would be better if I tried all I could to make something out of John I have always felt that every woman should make all that she can out of her husband so I did my best first of all to straighten up John's appearance I shifted the style of collar he was wearing to a tighter kind that I liked better and I brushed his hair straight backward which gave him a much more alert look mother said that John needed waking up and so we did all we could to wake him up mother came over to stay with me a good deal and in the evenings we generally had a little music or a game of cards about this time another difficulty began to come into my married life which I suppose I ought to have foreseen I mean the attentions of other gentlemen I have always called forth a great deal of admiration and gentlemen but I have always done my best to act like a lady and to discourage it in every possible way I had been innocent enough to suppose that this would end with married life and it gave me a dreadful shock to realize that such was not the case the first one I noticed was a young man who came to the house at an hour when John was out for the purpose, so he said at least of reading the gas meter he looked at me in just the boldest way and asked me to show him the weight of the cellar I don't know whether it was a pretext or not but I just summoned all the courage I had and showed him to the head of the cellar stairs I had determined that if he tried to carry me down with him I would scream for the servants but I suppose something in my manner made him desist and he went alone when he came up he professed to have read the meter and he left the house quite quietly but I thought it wiser to say nothing to John of what had happened there were others too there was a young man with large brown eyes who came and said he had been sent to tune the piano he came on three separate days and he bent his ear over the keys in such a mournful way that I knew he must have fallen in love with me on the last day he offered to tune my harp for a dollar extra but I refused and when I asked him instead to tune mother's mandolin he said he didn't know how of course I told John nothing of all this then there was Mr. McQueen who came to the house several times to play cribbage with John he had been desperately in love with me years before at least I remember his taking me home from a hockey match once and what a struggle it was for him not to come into the parlour and see mother for a few minutes when I asked him and though he was married now and with three children I felt sure when he came to play cribbage with John that it meant something he was very discreet and honourable and never betrayed himself for a moment and I acted my part as if there was nothing at all behind but one night when he came over to play and John had had to go out he refused to stay even for an instant he had got his overshoes off before I told him that John was out and asked him if he wouldn't come into the parlour and hear mother play the mandolin but he just made one dive for his overshoes and was gone I knew that he didn't dare to trust himself then presently a new trouble came I began to suspect that John was drinking I don't mean for a moment that he was drunk or that he was openly cruel to me but at times he seemed to act so queerly and I noticed that one night when by accident I left a bottle of raspberry vinegar on the sideboard overnight it was all gone in the morning two or three times when McQueen and John were to play cribbage John would fetch home two or three bottles of vivo with him and they would sit sipping all evening I think he was drinking vivo by himself too though I could never be sure of it at any rate he often seemed queer and restless in the evenings and instead of staying in his den he would wander all over the house once we heard him I mean mother and I and two lady friends who were with us that evening quite late after ten o'clock apparently moving about in the pantry John I called is that you? yes men he answered quietly enough I admit what are you doing there I asked looking for something to eat he said John I said you are forgetting what is due to me as your wife you were fed at six go back he went but yet I felt more and more that his love must be dwindling to make him act as he did I thought it all over weirdly enough and asked myself whether I had done everything I should to hold my husband's love I had kept him in at nights I had cut down his smoking I had stopped his playing cards what more was there that I could do so at last the conviction came to me that I must go away I felt that I must get away somewhere and think things out at first I thought of Palm Beach but the season had not opened and I felt somehow that I couldn't wait I wanted to get away somewhere by myself and just face things as they were so one morning I said to John John I think I'd like to go off somewhere for a little time just to be by myself dear and I don't want you to ask to come with me or to follow me but just let me go John said alright men when are you going to start the cold brutality of it cut me to the heart and I went upstairs and had a good cry and looked over steamship and railroad folders I thought of Havana for a while because the pictures of the harbor and the castle and the queer Spanish streets looked so attractive but then I was afraid that at Havana a woman alone by herself might be simply persecuted by attentions from gentlemen they say the Spanish temperament is something fearful so I decided on Bermuda instead I felt that in a beautiful quiet place like Bermuda I could think everything all over and face things and it said on the folder that there were always at least two English regiments and garrison there and the English officers whatever their faults always treat a woman with the deepest respect so I said nothing more to John but in the next few days I got all my arrangements made and my things packed and when the last afternoon came I sat down and wrote John a long letter to leave on my boudoir table telling him that I had gone to Bermuda I told him that I wanted to be alone I said that I couldn't tell when I would be back that it might be months or it might be years and I hoped that he would try to be as happy as he could and forget me entirely and to send me money on the first of every month well it was just at that moment that one of those strange coincidences happened little things in themselves but which seemed to alter the whole course of a person's life I had nearly finished the letter to John that I was to leave on the writing desk when just then the maid came up to my room with a telegram it was for John but I thought of my duty to open it and read it for him before I left and I nearly fainted when I saw that it was from a lawyer in Bermuda of all places and it said that a legacy of $200,000 had been left to John by an uncle of his who had died there and asking for instructions about the disposition of it a great wave seemed to sweep over me and all the wicked thoughts that had been in my mind I saw now that they were wicked were driven clean away I thought how completely lost poor old John would feel if all this money came to him and he didn't have to work anymore and had no one at his side to help and guide him in using it I tore up the wicked letter I had written and I hurried as fast as I could to pack up a release with John's things my own were packed already as I said then presently John came in and I broke the news to him as gently and as tenderly as I could about his uncle having left him the money and having died I told him that I had found out all about the trains and the Bermuda steamer and had everything all packed and ready for us to leave at once John seemed a little dazed about it all and kept saying that his uncle had taught him to play tennis when he was a little boy and he was very grateful and thankful to me for having everything arranged and thought it wonderful I had time to telephone with my women friends and they just managed to rush round for a few minutes to say goodbye I couldn't help crying a little when I told him about John's uncle dying so far away with none of us near him and I told him about the legacy and they cried a little to hear of it all and when I told them that John and I might not come back direct from Bermuda but it might take a run over to Europe first they all cried some more we left for New York that evening and after we had been to Bermuda and arranged about a suitable monument for John's uncle and collected the money we sailed for Europe all through the happy time that has followed I like to think that through all our trials and difficulties Affliction brought us safely together at last End of John and I by Stephen Leacock The philosopher in the apple orchard This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org This reading by Lucy Burgoyne The philosopher in the apple orchard by Anthony Hope It was a charmingly mild and barmy day The sun shone beyond the orchard and the shade was cool inside A light breeze stirred the boughs of the old apple tree under which the philosopher sat None of these things did the philosopher notice unless it might be when the wind blew about the leaves of the large volume on his knees and he had to find his place again Then he would exclaim against the wind shuffle the leaves till he got the right page and settle to his reading The book was atratized on ontology It was written by another philosopher a friend of this philosopher It bristled with fallacies and this philosopher was discovering them all and noting them on the fly leaf at the end He was not going to review the book as some might have thought from his behaviour or even answer it in a work of his own It was just that he found a pleasure in stripping any poor fallacy naked and crucifying it Presently a girl in a white frock came into the orchard She picked up an apple bit it and found it ripe Holding it in her hand she walked up to where the philosopher sat and looked at him He did not stir She took a bite out of the apple munched it and swallowed it The philosopher crucified the fallacy on the fly leaf The girl flung the apple away Mr. Durningham said she Are you very busy? The philosopher pencil in hand looked up No, Miss May said he Not Berry Because I want your opinion In one moment said the philosopher apologetically to the fly leaf and began to nail the last fallacy a little tighter to the cross The girl regarded him first with amused impatience then with a vexed frown finally with a wistful regret He was so very old for his age She thought he could not be much beyond 30 His hair was thick and full of waves His eyes bright and clear His complexion not yet divested of all youth's relics Now, Miss May I'm at your service said the philosopher with a lingering look at his impaled fallacy and he closed the book keeping it, however, on his knee The girl sat down just opposite to him It's a very important thing I want to ask you she begun to look across and it's very difficult and you mustn't tell anyone I asked you at least I'd rather you didn't I shall not speak of it indeed I shall probably not remember it said the philosopher and you mustn't look at me please while I'm asking you I don't think I was looking at you but if I was I beg your pardon said the philosopher she pulled the tuft of grass right out of the ground and flung it from her with all her force suppose a man she begun no, that's not right you can take any hypothesis you please observed the philosopher but you must verify it afterward of course oh, do let me go on suppose a girl Mr. Juningham was an odd it was only to show that I followed you oh, of course you follow me as you call it suppose a girl had two lovers you're nodding again or I ought to say suppose there were two men who might be in love with the girl only two asked the philosopher you see any number of men might be in love with oh, we can leave the rest out said Miss May with a sudden dimple they don't matter very well said the philosopher if they are irrelevant we will put them aside suppose then that one of these men was awfully in love with the girl and proposed you know a moment said the philosopher opening a notebook let me take down his proposition what was it why proposed to her asked her to marry him said the girl with a stare dear me, how stupid of me I forgot that special use of the word yes the girl likes him pretty well and her people approve of him and all that, you know that simplifies the problem said the philosopher but she's not in in love with him you know, she doesn't really care for him much do you understand perfectly, it is the most natural state of mind well then suppose that there's another man what are you writing I only put down B, like that pleaded the philosopher meekly exhibiting his notebook she looked at him in a sort of helpless exasperation with just a smile somewhere in the background of it oh, you really are she exclaimed but let me go on the other man is a friend of the girls he's very clever oh, fearfully clever and he's rather handsome you needn't put that down it is certainly not very material admitted the philosopher crossed out, handsome clever, he left and the girl is most awfully she admires him tremendously she thinks him just the greatest man that ever lived you know, and she the girl paused I'm following said the philosopher with pencil poised she'd think it better than the whole world if she could be anything to him you know you mean become his wife well, of course I do at least I suppose I do you spoke rather vaguely you know the girl cast one glance at the philosopher as she replied well, yes I did mean become his wife yes, well but continued the girl starting on another tuft of grass he doesn't think much about those things he likes her I think he likes her well, doesn't dislike her suggested the philosopher shall we call him indifferent I don't know, yes, rather indifferent I don't think he thinks about it you know that she's pretty you needn't put that down I was not about to do so observe the philosopher she thinks life with him would be just heaven and she thinks she would make him awfully happy she would would be so proud of him you see I see, yes and I don't know how to put it quite, she thinks that if he ever thought about it at all he might care for her because he doesn't care for anybody else and she's pretty you said that before oh, dear I daresay I did and most men care for somebody don't they, some girl I mean most men, no doubt, conceded the philosopher well then, what ought she to do it's not a real thing you know, Mr. Jurningham it's in a novel I was reading she said this hastily and blushed as she spoke to me and it's quite an interesting case yes, I see the question is will she act most wisely in accepting the offer of the man who loves her exceedingly that for whom she entertains only a moderate affection yes, just a liking he's just a friend exactly or in marrying the other whom she loves, ex it's not in, how can she marry him he hasn't he hasn't asked her, you see true, I forgot let us assume though, for the moment that he has asked her she would then have to consider which marriage would probably be productive of the greatest sum total of oh, but you needn't consider that but it seems the best logical order we can afterward make a balance for the element of uncertainty caused by oh, no I don't want it like that I know perfectly well which she'd do if he the other man, you know asked her you apprehend that never mind what I apprehend take it as I told you very good A has asked her hand B has not may I take at that but for the disturbing influence of B A would be a satisfactory a candidate yes I think so she therefore enjoys a certainty of considerable happiness if she marries A yes, not perfect because of B you know quite so, quite so still, a fair amount of happiness is it not so I don't well perhaps on the other hand if B did ask her we are to postulate a higher degree of happiness for her yes, please Mr. Jurningham much higher for both of them the her never mind him very well, that again simplifies the problem but he's asking her is a contingency only yes, that's all the philosopher spread out his hands my dear young lady he said it becomes a question of degree how probable or improbable is it I don't know, not very probable unless well unless he did happen to notice ah yes we suppose that if he thought of it he would probably take the desired step at least that he might be led to do so could she not indicate her preference she might try no, she couldn't do much you see he doesn't think about such things I understand precisely and it seems to me Miss May that in that very fact we find our solution do we she asked I think so he has evidently no natural inclination toward her perhaps not toward marriage at all any feeling aroused in him would be necessarily shallow and in a measure artificial and in all likelihood purely temporary however if she took steps to arouse his attention one of two things would be likely to happen are you following me yes Mr. Jenningham either he would be repelled by her overtures which you must admit is not improbable and then the position would be unpleasant and even degrading for her or on the other hand you were misplaced feeling of gallantry through what through a mistaken idea of politeness or a mistaken view of what was kind allowing self to be drawn into a connection for which he had no genuine liking you agree with me that one or other of these things would be likely yes I suppose they would unless he did come to care for her ah you return to that hypothesis I think it's an extremely fanciful one no she need not marry A but she must let be alone the philosopher closed his book took off his glasses wiped them replaced them and leaned back against the trunk of the apple tree the girl picked a dandelion in pieces after a long pause she asked you think these feelings wouldn't be at all likely to to change that depends on the sort of man he is but if he is an able man with intellectual interest which engrows him a man who has chosen his path in life a man to whom women's society is not a necessity he's just like that said the girl and she bit the head off a daisy then said the philosopher I see not the least reason for supposing that his feelings will change and would you advise her to marry the other A well on the whole I should A is a good fellow I think we made A a good fellow he's a suitable match his love for her is true and genuine it's tremendous yes and extreme she likes him there is every reason to hope that her life will develop into a sufficiently deep and stable affection she will get rid of her folly about B and make A a good wife of the other of your novel I should make her marry A and I should call that a happy ending a silence followed it was broken by the philosopher is that all you wanted my opinion about Miss May he asked with his finger between the leaves of the treatise on ontology yes I think so I hope I haven't bored you I've endured the discussion extremely I have no idea that novels raise points of such psychological interest I must find time to read one the girl had shifted her position till instead of her full face her profile was turned toward him looking away toward the paddock that lay brilliant in sunshine on the skirts of the apple orchard she asked in a low slow tones twisting her hands in her lap don't you think that perhaps if B found out afterward when she had married A you know that she had cared for him so very very much he might be a little sorry if he were a gentleman he would regret it deeply I mean sorry on his own account that he had thrown away all that you know the philosopher looked meditative I think he pronounced that it is very possible he would I can well imagine it he might never find anybody to love him like that again she said gazing on the gleaming paddock he probably would not agreed the philosopher and and most people like being loved don't they to crave for love is an almost universal instinct Miss May yes almost she said with a dreary little smile you see he'll get old and have no one to look after him he will and no home well in a sense none corrected the philosopher smiling but really you'll frighten me I'm a bachelor myself you know Miss May yes she whispered just audibly and all your terrors are before me well unless oh we didn't have that unless like the philosopher cheerfully there's no unless about it Miss May the girl jumped to her feet for an instant she looked at the philosopher she opened her lips as if to speak and at the thought of what lay at her tongue's tip her face grew red but the philosopher was gazing past her and his eyes rested in calm contemplation on the gleaming paddock a beautiful thing sunshine to be sure said he her blush faded away into paleness her lips closed without speaking she turned and walked slowly away her head drooping the philosopher heard the rustle of a skirt in the long grass of the orchard he watched her for a few moments a pretty graceful creature said he with a smile then he opened his book took his pencil in his hand and slipped in a careful forefinger to mark the fly leaf the sun had passed mid-heaven and began to decline westwood before he finished the book then he stretched himself and looked at his watch good gracious two o'clock I shall be late for lunch and he hurried to his feet he was very late for lunch everything's cold wailed his hostess where have you been Mr. journingham only in orchard reading and you've missed me miss me how do you mean I had a long talk with her this morning a most interesting talk but you weren't here to say goodbye now you don't mean to say that you forgot that she was leaving on the two o'clock train what a man you are dear me to think of my forgetting her said the philosopher shame-facedly she told me to say goodbye to you for her she's very kind I can't forgive myself his hostess looked at him for a moment then she sighed and smile and sighed again have you everything you want she asked everything thank you said he sitting down opposite the cheese and propping his book he thought he would just run through the last chapter again against the low everything in the world that I want thanks his hostess did not tell him that the girl had come in from the apple orchard and run hostily upstairs lest her friend should see what her friend did see in her eyes so that he had no suspicion at all that he had received an offer of marriage and refused it and he did not refer to anything when he paused once in his reading and exclaimed I'm really sorry I miss miss May that was an interesting case of hers but I have the right answer the girl ought to marry a and so the girl did end the story please visit LibriVox.org at half past eight they drove out of the town the high road was dry a lovely April sun was shining warmly but the snow was still lying in the ditches and in the woods winter dark long and spiteful was hardly over spring had come all of a sudden but neither the warmth nor the languid transparent woods nor the breath of spring nor the black flocks of birds flying over the huge puddles that were like lakes nor the marvellous fathomless sky into which it seemed one would have gone away so joyfully presented anything new or interesting Maria Vasilevna who was sitting in the cart for thirteen years she had been schoolmistress and there was no reckoning for her salary and whether it were spring as now or a rainy autumn evening or winter it was all the same to her and she always invariably longed for one thing only to get to the end of her journey as quickly as could be she felt as though she had been living in that part of the country for ages and ages for a hundred years and it seemed to her that she knew every stone every tree on the road to her school her past was here her present was here and she could imagine no other future than the school the road to the town and back again and again the school and again the road she had got out of the habit of thinking of her past before she became schoolmistress and had almost forgotten it she had once had a father and mother they had lived in Moscow in a big flat near the red gate she had left in her memory only something vague and fluid like a dream her father had died when she was ten years old and her mother had died soon after she had a brother, an officer at first they used to write to each other then her brother had given up answering her letters he had got out of the way of writing of her old belongings all that was left was a photograph of her mother but it had grown dim from the dampness of the school and now nothing could be seen but the hair and the eyebrows when they had driven a couple of miles old Semyov who was driving turned round and said they have caught a government clerk in the town they have taken him away the story is that with some Germans he killed Alexenev the mayor in Moscow who told you that? they were reading it in the paper in Ivan Yanov's tavern and again they were silent for a long time Maria Vaselyaniva in the house of her school of the examination that was coming soon and of the girl and four boys she was sending up for it and just as she was thinking about the examination she was overtaken by a neighboring landowner called Hanov in a carriage with four horses the very man who had been examiner in her school the year before when he came up to her he recognized her and bowed good morning he said to her what a home I suppose this Hanov, a man of forty with a listless expression and a face that showed signs of wear was beginning to look old but was still handsome and admired by women he lived in his big homestead alone and was not in the service and people used to say of him that he did nothing at home but walk up and down the room whistling or play chess with his old footmen people said too that he drank heavily and indeed at the examination before the very papers he brought with him smelt of wine and scent he had been dressed all in new clothes on that occasion and Maria Basilianneva thought him very attractive and all the while she sat beside him she had felt embarrassed she was accustomed to see frigid and sensible examiners at the school while this one did not remember a single prayer or know what to ask questions about and was exceedingly courteous and delicate giving nothing but the highest marks I am going to visit Beckvist he went on addressing Maria Basilianneva but I am told he is not at home they turned off the high road into a by-road to the village Hanov leading the way and Semyon following the four horses moved at a walking pace with effort dragging the heavy carriage through the mud Semyon tracked from side to side keeping to the edge of the road at one time through a snowdrift at another through a pool often jumping out of the cart and helping the horse Maria Basilianneva was still thinking about the school wondering whether the arithmetic question at the examination would be difficult or easy and she felt annoyed with the Zemstov board at which she had found no one the day before how un-business-like here she had been asking them for the last two years to dismiss the watchman Semyon was rude to her and hit the school boys but no one paid any attention it was hard to find the president at the office and when one did find him he would say with tears in his eyes that he hadn't a moment to spare the inspector visited the school at most once in three years and knew nothing whatever about his work as he had been in the excise duties department and had received the post of school inspector through influence the school council met very rarely no knowing where it met the school guardian was an almost illiterate peasant the head of a tanning business unintelligent, rude and a great friend of the watchmen and goodness knows to whom she could appeal with complaints or inquiries he really is handsome, she thought glancing at Hanoff the road grew worse and worse they drove into the wood here there was no room to turn around the wheels sank deeply in water splashed and gurgled through them sharp twigs struck them in the face what a road said Hanoff and he laughed the schoolmistress looked at him and could not understand why this queer man lived here what could his money, his interesting appearance, his refined bearing do for him here in this mud, in this godforsaken very place he got no special advantages out of life here like Semyov was driving at a jog trot on an appalling road and enduring the same comforts, why live here if one could live in Petersburg or abroad and one would have thought it would be nothing for a rich man like him to make a good road instead of this bad one to avoid enduring this misery and seeing the despair on the faces of his coachmen and Semyov but he only laughed and apparently did not mind and wanted no better life he was kind soft, naive and he did not understand this course just as at the examination he did not know the prayers he subscribed nothing to the schools but globes and genuinely regarded himself as a useful person and a prominent worker in the cause of popular education and what use were his globes here, hold on Vasilyenev said Semyon, Cart lurched violently and was on the point of upsetting, something heavy rolled on to Maria Vasilyeneva's feet, it was her parcel of purchases, there was a steep ascent uphill through the clay here in the winding ditches rivlets were gurgling, the water seemed to have gnawed away the road and how could one get along here, the horses breathed hard, Hanov got out of his carriage and walked at the side of the road in his long overcoat, he was hot what a road he said and laughed again, it would soon smash up one's carriage, nobody lodges you to drive about in such weather, said Semyon, surly you should stay at home, I am dull at home, grandfather, I don't like staying at home beside old Semyon he looked graceful and vigorous but yet in his walk there was something just perceptible which betrayed in him a being already touched by decay, weak and on the road to ruin and all at once there was a whiff of spirits in the wood, Maria Vasilyeneva was filled with dread and pity for this man going to his ruin for no visible cause or reason it came into her mind that if she had been his wife or sister she would have devoted her whole life to saving him from ruin his wife, life was so ordered that here he was living in his great house alone and she was living in a godforsaken village alone and yet for some reason the mere thought that he and she would be close to one another and equals seemed impossible and absurd in reality life was arranged and human relations were complicated so utterly beyond all understanding that when one thought about it one felt uncanny and one's heart sunk and it is beyond all understanding she thought why God gives beauty this graciousness and sad sweet eyes to weak unlucky useless people why they are so charming here we must turn off the roads said Hanoff getting into his carriage good-bye I wish you all good things and again she thought of her pupils of the examination of the watchman of the school council and when the wind brought the sound of the retreating carriage these thoughts were mingled with others she longed to think of beautiful eyes of love of the happiness which would never be his wife it was cold in the morning there was no one to heat the stove it disappeared the children came in as soon as it was light bringing in snow and mud and making a noise it was also inconvenient so comfortless her abode consisted of one little room in the kitchen close by her head ached every day after her work and after dinner she had heartburn she had to collect money from the school children for wood and for the watchman and to give it to the school guardian and then to entreat him that insolent peasant for God's sake to send her wood and at night she dreamed of examinations peasants snow drifts and this life was making her grow old and coarse making her ugly angular and awkward as though she were made of lead she was always afraid and she would get up from her seat and not venture to sit down in the presence of a member of the Zemestov or the school guardian and she used formal deferential expressions when she spoke to any one of them and no one thought her attractive and life was passing drearily without affection without friendly sympathy without interesting acquaintances how awful it would have been in her position if she had fallen in love hold on Vasilyaneva again a sharp ascent uphill she had become a schoolmistress from necessity without feeling any vocation for it and she had never thought of a vocation of serving the cause of enlightenment and it always seemed to her that what was most important in her work was not the children nor enlightenment but the examinations and what time had she for thinking of vocations or serving the cause of enlightenment teachers badly paid doctors and their assistants with their terribly hard work have not even the comfort of thinking that they are serving an idea or the people as their heads are always stuffed with thoughts of bread, of wood for the fire of bad roads, of illnesses it is a hard working and uninteresting life and only silent, like Maria Vasilyaneva could put up with it for long the lively, nervous, impressionable people who talked about vocation and serving the idea were soon worried of it and gave up the work Semyon kept picking out the driest, shortest way first by a meadow then by the backs of the village huts but in one place the peasants would not let him pass in another it was the priest's land and they could not cross it in another Ivan Ivanov had bought a plot from the landowner and had dug a ditch around it they kept having to turn back they reached Nizhnyr Gordoshtish near the tavern on the dung-strewn earth where the snow was still lying there stood wagons that had brought great bottles of crude sulfuric acid there were a great many people in the tavern all drivers and there was a smell of vodka, tobacco and sheepskins there was a loud noise of conversation and the banging of the swinging door through the wall without ceasing for a moment came the sound of a concertina being played in the shop Maria Vasilyaneva sat down and drank some tea while at the next table peasants were drinking vodka and beer perspiring from the tea they had just swallowed the rifling fumes of the tavern I say kuzma voices kept shouting in confusion what there, the lord blesses Ivan Dimitriovich I can tell you that, look out old man a little pocked marked man with a black beard who was quite drunk was suddenly surprised by something and began using bad language what are you squaring at you there Semyov who was sitting some way off responded angrily don't you see the young lady in the corner, swainish crow we meant nothing said the little man in confusion I beg your pardon, we pay with our money and the young lady with hers good morning, good morning answered the schoolmistress and we thank you most feelingly Maria Vasilyaneva drank her tea with satisfaction and she too began turning red like the peasants and felt of thinking again about firewood about the watchman stay old man, she heard from the next table the young lady with her little mistress from Vasilyanovich we know her, she's a good young lady she's all right the swinging door was continually banging some coming in, others going out Maria Vasilyaneva sat on, thinking all the time of the same things while the concertina went on playing and playing the patches of sunshine had been on the floor then they passed to the counter to the wall the peasants at the next table were getting ready to go the little man somewhat unsteadily went up to Maria Vasilyaneva and held out his hand to her following his example the others shook hands two at parting and went out one after another and the swinging door squeaked and slammed nine times Vasilyaneva, get ready, Semyov called to her they set off and again they went at a walking pace a little while back they were building a school here Nitshnaya Kudnichich said Semyov turning around it was a wicked thing that was done, why, what? they say the president put a thousand in his pocket and the school guarded another thousand in his and the teacher five hundred the whole school cost only a thousand it's wrong to slander people grandfather that's all nonsense I don't know, I only tell you what folks say but it was clear that Semyov did not believe the school mistress, the peasants did not believe her they always thought she received too large a salary twenty one ruples a month five would have been enough and that of the money that she collected from the children for the firewood and the watchman the greater part she kept for herself the guardian thought the same as the peasants and he himself made a profit off the firewood and received payments from the peasants for being a guardian without the knowledge of the authorities the forest, thank God, was beyond them it would be flat, open ground, all the way to Vaznyov and there was not far to go they had to cross a river and then the railway line and then Vaznyov was in sight where are you driving? Maria Vasilyeneva asked Semyov take the road to the right to the bridge why, we can go this way as well it's not deep enough to matter mind you don't drown the horse what? look, Hanov is driving to the bridge said Maria Vasilyeneva seeing the four horses far away to the right he, I think, it is so he didn't find basket at home what a pig-headed fellow he is Lord have mercy upon us he's driven over there and what for it's fully two miles nearer this way they reached the river in the summer it was little stream easily crossed by waiting it usually dried up in August but now after the spring floods it was a river forty feet in breadth rapid, muddy and cold on the bank and right up to the water there were fresh tracks of wheels and crossed here go on shouted Semyov angrily and anxiously tugging violently at the reins and jerking his elbows as a bird does its wings go on the horse went on into the water up to its belly and stopped but at once went on again with effort and Maria Vasilyeneva was aware of a keen chillness in her feet go on, she too shouted getting up go on they got out on the bank nice mess it is Lord have mercy on us muttered Semyov setting straight the harness it's a perfect plague with its zemstov her shoes and galoshes were full of water the lower part of her dress and her coat and one sleeve were wet and dripping the sugar and flour had got wet and that was the worst of all and Maria Vasilyeneva could only clasp her hands in despair and say oh Semyov, Semyov how tiresome you are really the barrier was down at the railway crossing a train was coming out at the station Maria Vasilyeneva stood at the crossing waiting till it should pass and shivering all over with cold Vasilyeneva was in sight now and the school with the green roof and the church with its crosses flashing in the evening sun and the station windows flashed too and a pink smoke rose from the engine and it seemed to her that everything was trembling with cold here was the train the windows reflected the gleaming light like the crosses on the church it made her eyes ache to look at them on the little platform between two first class carriages she was standing and Maria Vasilyeneva glanced at her as she passed her mother what a resemblance her mother had had just such luxuriant hair just such a brow and bend of the head and with amazing distinctiveness for the first time in those 13 years they rose before her mind a vivid picture of her mother her father her brother their flat in Moscow the aquarium with little fish everything to the tiniest detail she heard the sound of the piano her father's voice she felt as she had been then young good looking well dressed in a bright warm room among her own people a feeling of joy and happiness suddenly came over her she pressed her hands to her temples in an ecstasy and called softly beseechingly mother and she began crying she did not know why just at that instant Hanov drove up with his team of four horses and seeing him she imagined happiness such as she had never had and smiled and nodded to him as an equal and a friend and it seemed to her that her happiness her triumph was glowing in the sky and on all sides in the windows and on the trees her father and mother had never died she had never been a school mistress it was a long, tedious, strange dream and now she had awakened Vasilya Neva, get in and at once it all vanished the barrier was slowly raised Vasilya Neva, shivering and numb with cold got into the cart the carriage with the four horses crossed the railway line Semyov followed it the signalman took off his cap and here is Vasilya Neva here we are End of The School Mistress Slavery in Massachusetts, 1854 by Henry David Thoreau this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org I had lately attended a meeting of the citizens of Concord expecting as one among many to speak on the subject of slavery in Massachusetts but I was surprised and disappointed to find that what had called my townsmen together was the destiny of Nebraska and not of Massachusetts and that what I had to say would be entirely out of order I had thought that the house was on fire and not the prairie but those several citizens of Massachusetts are now in prison for attempting to rescue a slave from her own clutches and not one of the speakers at that meeting expressed regret for it not one even referred to it it was only the disposition of some wild lands a thousand miles off which appeared to concern them the inhabitants of Concord are not prepared to stand by one of their own bridges but talk only of taking up a position on the highlands beyond the Yellowstone River our bitrix and davises and osmers are retreating thither and I fear that they will leave no lexington common between them and the enemy there is not one slave in Nebraska there are perhaps a million slaves in Massachusetts they who have been bred in the school of politics fail now and always to face the facts their measures are half measures and make shifts merely they put off the day of settlement indefinitely and meanwhile the debt accumulates though the fugitive slave law had not been the subject of the discussion on that occasion it was at length faintly resolved in my townsmen at an adjourned meeting as I learned that the compromise compact of 1820 having been repudiated by one of the parties quote therefore the fugitive slave law of 1850 must be repealed but this is not the reason why an iniquitous law should be repealed the fact which the politician faces is merely that there is less honor among thieves than was supposed and not the fact that they are thieves as I had no opportunity to express my thoughts at that meeting will you allow me to do so here again it happens that the Boston courthouse is full of armed men holding prisoners and trying a man to find out he is not really a slave does anyone think that justice or God awaits Mr. Loring's decision for him to sit there deciding still when this question is already decided from eternity to eternity and the unlettered slave himself and the multitude around have long since heard and assented to the decision is simply to make himself ridiculous we may be tempted to ask from whom he received his commission and who he is that received it what novel status he obeys and what precedence are to him of authority such an arbiter's very existence is an impertinence we do not ask him to make up his mind but to make up his pack I listen to hear the voice of a governor commander in chief of the forces of Massachusetts I hear only the creaking of crickets and the hum of insects which now fill the summer air the governor's exploit is to review the troops on muster days I have seen him on horseback with his hat off listening to a chaplain's prayer it chances that that is all I have ever seen of a governor I think that I could manage to get along without one if he is not of the least use to prevent my being kidnapped pray of what important use is he likely to be to me when freedom is most endangered he dwells in the deepest obscurity a distinguished clergyman told me that he chose the profession of clergyman because it afforded the most leisure for literary pursuits I would recommend to him the profession of a governor three years ago when the Sims tragedy was acted I said to myself there is such an officer if not such a man as the governor of Massachusetts what has he been about the last fortnight has he had as much as he could do to keep on the fence during this moral earthquake that no keener satire could have been aimed at no more cutting insult could have been offered to that man than what just happened the absence of all inquiry after him in that crisis the worst and the most I chance to know of him is that he did not interpose that opportunity to make himself known and worthily known he could at least have resigned himself into fame that there was such a man or such an office yet no doubt he was endeavouring to fill the gubernatorial chair all the while he was no governor of mine he did not govern me but at last in the present case the governor was heard from after he in the United States government had perfectly succeeded in robbing a poor innocent black man of his liberty for life and as far as they could rest he made a speech to his accomplices at a congratulatory supper I have read a recent law of this state making it penal for any officer of the Commonwealth to detain or aid in the detention anywhere within its limits of any person for the reason that he is claimed as a fugitive slave also it was a matter of notoriety that a writ of repelvin to take the fugitive out of the custody of the United States Marshall could not be served for want of a sufficient force to aid the officer I had thought that the governor was in some sense the executive officer of the state that it was his business as a governor to see that the laws of the state were executed while as a man he took care that he did not by so doing break the laws of humanity but when there is any special important use for him he is useless or worse than useless and permits the laws of the state to go unexecuted perhaps I do not know what are the duties of a governor but if to be a governor requires to subject oneself to so much ignominy without remedy if it is to put a restraint upon my manhood I shall take care never to be governor of Massachusetts I have not read far in the statutes of this commonwealth it is not profitable reading they do not always say what is true and they do not mean what they say what I am concerned to know is that that man's influence and authority were on the side of the slave holder and not the slave of the guilty and not of the innocent of injustice and not of justice I never saw him of whom I speak indeed I did not know he was governor until this event I heard him and Anthony Burns at the same time and thus undoubtedly most will hear from him so far am I from being governed by him I do not mean that it was anything to his discredit that I had not heard of him only that I heard what I did the worst I shall say of him is that he proved no better than the majority of his constituents would be likely to prove in my opinion he was not equal to the occasion the whole military force of the state at the service of a Mr. Stoodle a slave holder from Virginia to enable him to catch a man whom he calls his property but not a soldier is offered to save a citizen of Massachusetts from being kidnapped is this what all the soldiers all this training have been for these 79 years past have they been trained merely to rob Mexico to bring back fugitive slaves to their masters these very nights I have heard the sound of a drum in our streets there were men training still and for what I could with an effort pardon the cock-rolls of Concord for cowering still for they perchance had not been beaten that morning but I could not excuse this rubber-dub of the trainees the slave was carried back by exactly such as these i.e. by the soldier of whom the best you can say in this connection is that he is a fool made conspicuous by a painted coat three years ago also just a week after the authorities of Boston assembled to carry back a perfectly innocent man and one whom they knew to be innocent into slavery the inhabitants of Concord caused the bells to be wrong and the cannons to be fired to celebrate their liberty and the courage and love of liberty to the ancestors who fought at the bridge as if those three million had fought for the right to be free themselves but to hold in slavery three million others nowadays men wear a fool's cap and call it a liberty cap I do not know but there are some who if they were tied to a whipping-post and could but get one hand free would use it to ring the bells and fire the cannons to celebrate their liberty so some of my townsmen took the liberty to ring and fire that was the extent of their freedom and when the sound of the bells died away their liberty died also when the powder was all expended their liberty went off with the smoke a joke could be no broader if the inmates of the prisons were to subscribe for all the powder to be used in such salutes and hire the jailers to do the firing and ringing for them while they enjoyed it through the grading this is what I thought about my neighbors every humane and intelligent inhabitant of Concord when he or she heard those bells and those cannons thought not with pride of the events of 19th April 1775 but with the shame of the events of the 12th of April 1851 but now we have half-buried that old shame under a new one Massachusetts sat waiting Mr. Loring's decision as if it could in any way affect her own criminality her crime, the most conspicuous and fatal crime of all was permitting him to be the umpire in such a case it was really the trial of Massachusetts every moment that she hesitated to set this man free every moment that she now hesitates to atone for her crime she is convicted the commissioner on her case is God not Edward G. God but simply God I wish my countrymen to consider that whatever the human law may be neither an individual nor a nation can ever commit the least act of injustice against the obscurest individual without having to pay the penalty for it a government which deliberately enacts injustice and persists in it will at length even become the laughing stock of the world much has been said about American slavery but I think we do not even yet realize what slavery is if I were seriously to propose to Congress to make mankind into savages I have no doubt that most of the members would smile at my proposition and if any believed me to be an earnest they would think that I propose something much worse than Congress had ever done but if any of them will tell me that to make a man into a savage would be any worse and to make him into a slave that it was to enact the fugitive slave law I will accuse him of foolishness of intellectual incapacity of making a distinction without a difference the one is just as sensible a proposition as the other I hear a good deal about trampling this law under foot why one need not go out of his way to do that the law rises not to the level of the head the reason its natural habitat is in the dirt it was born and bred and has its life only in the dust and mire on a level with the feet and he who walks with freedom and does not with Hindu mercy avoid treading on every feminist reptile will inevitably tread on it and to trample it under foot and webster its maker with it like a dirt bug and its ball recent events will be valuable as a criticism of the administration of justice in our midst or rather as showing what are the true resources of justice in any community it has come to this that the friends of liberty have shuttered when they have understood that his fate was left to the legal tribunals of the country to be decided free men have no faith that justice will be awarded in such a case the judge may decide this way or that it is a kind of accident at best it is evident that he is not a competent authority in so important a case it is no time then to be judging according to his precedence but to establish a precedent for the future I would much rather trust to the settlement of the people in their vote you would get something of some value at least however small but in the other case only the trampled judgment of an individual no significance be it which way it might as to some extent fatal to the courts when the people are compelled to go behind them and do not wish to believe that the courts were made for fair weather and for very civil cases merely but think of leaving it to any court in the land to decide whether more than three millions of people in this case a sixth part of the nation have a right to be free men or not but it has been left to the courts of justice so called to the supreme court of the land and as you all know recognizing no authority but the constitution it has decided that the three million are and shall continue to be such judges as these are merely the inspectors of a pick lock and murderers tools to tell him whether they are in working order or not and there they think that their responsibility ends there was a prior case on the docket which they as judges appointed by God had no right to skip which having been justly settled they would have been saved from this humiliation it was the case of the murderer himself the law will never make men free it is men who have got to make the law free they are the lovers of law and order who observe the law when the government breaks it among human beings the judge whose words steal the fate of a man farthest into eternity is not he who merely pronounces the verdict of the law but he whoever he may be who from a love of truth and unprejudiced by any custom or enactment of men enters a true opinion or sentence concerning him he it is that sentences him whoever can discern truth has received his commission from a higher source than the chiefest justice in the world and discern only law he finds himself constituted judge of the judge strange that it should be necessary to state such simple truths I am more and more convinced with the reference to any public question it is more important to know what the country thinks of it than what the city thinks the city does not think much on a moral question I would rather have the opinions of Boxborough than of Boston put together when the former speaks I feel as if somebody had spoken as if humanity was yet and a reasonable being had asserted its rights as if some unprejudiced men among the country's hills had at length turned their attention to the subject and by a few sensible words redeemed the reputation of the race when in some obscure country town the farmers come together to express their opinion on some subject which is vexing the land that I think is the true Congress and the most respectable one that is ever assembled in the United States it is evident that there are in this commonwealth at least two parties becoming more and more distinct the party of the city and the party of the country I know that the country is mean enough but I am glad to believe that there is a slight difference in her favor but as yet I don't know if any organs through which to express herself the editorials which she reads like the news come from the seaboard let us the inhabitants of the country cultivate self-respect let us not spend to the city for ought more essential than our broad gloss and groceries or if we read the opinions of the city let us entertain opinions of our own among measures to be adopted I believe that in this country the press exerts a greater and more pernicious influence than the church did in its worst period we are not a religious people but we are a nation of politicians we do not care for the bible but we do care for the newspaper at any meeting of politicians we are not a religious people but we are a nation of politicians we do not care for the bible but we do care for the newspaper at any meeting of politicians like that at concord the other evening for instance how impertinent it would be to quote from the bible how pertinent to quote from a newspaper or from the constitution the newspaper is a bible which we read every morning and every afternoon standing and sitting riding and walking it is a bible which every man carries in his pocket which lies on every table and counter and which the mail is really dispensing it is in short the only book which america has printed and which americans read so wide is its influence the editor is a preacher whom you voluntarily support your tax is commonly one cent daily and it costs nothing for pew hire but how many of these preachers preach the truth I repeat the testimony of many an intelligent foreigner as well as my own convictions and as they are subbed by so many a class of tyrants as with a few noble exceptions are the editors of the periodical press in this country and as they live and rule only by their servility and appealing to the worst and not the better nature of men the people who read them are in the condition of the dog that returns to his vomit the liberator and the commonwealth were the only papers in Boston as far as I know which made themselves heard in condemnation of the cowardice and meanness of the authorities of that city as exhibited in 51 the other journals almost without exception by their manner of referring to and speaking of the fugitive slave law and the carrying back of the slave sims insulted the common sense of the country at least and for the most part they did this one would say because they thought so to secure the approbation of their patrons not being aware that a sounder sentiment prevailed to any extent in the heart of the commonwealth I am told that some of them have improved of late but they are still immensely time-serving such is the character they have won but, thank fortune, this preacher can be even more easily reached by the weapons of the reformer than could the recreational priest the free men of New England the refrain from purchasing and reading these sheets have only to withhold their sense to kill a score of them at once one whom I respect told me that he purchased Mitchell's citizen in the cars and then throw it out the window but would not his contempt have been more fatally expressed if he had not bought it at all are the Americans, are they New Englanders are the inhabitants of Lexington and Concord and Framingham who read and support the Boston Post Advertiser, Courier and Times are these the flags of our union I am not a newspaper reader and may omit to name the worst could slavery suggest a man more complete servility than some of these journals exhibit is there any dust which their conduct does not lick and make foul or still with its slime I do not know whether the Boston Herald is still in existence but I remembered to have seen it in the streets when Sims was carried off did not act its part well serve its master faithfully how could it have gone lower on its belly how can a man stoop lower than he is low do more than put his extremities in the place of the head he has and make his head the lower extremity when I have taken up this paper with my cuffs turned up I have heard the gurgling of the sewer every column I have felt I was handling a paper picked out of the public gutters a leaf from the gospel of the gambling house the groggery and the brothel harmonizing with the gospel of the merchants exchange a majority of men of the north and of the south and east and west are not men of principle if they vote they do not send men to congress on errands of humanity but while their brothers and sisters scourged and hung for loving liberty while I might here insist all that slavery implies and is it is the mismanagement of wood and iron and stone and gold which concerns them do what you will old government with my wife and children my mother and brother my father and sister I will obey your commands to the letter it will indeed grieve me if you hurt them but if you deliver them to overseers or to be whipped to death but nevertheless I will peacefully pursue my chosen calling in this fair earth until perchance one day when I have put on mourning for them dead I shall have persuaded you to relent such is the attitude such are the words of Massachusetts rather than do this I need not say what match I would touch what system endeavor to blow up but I would love my life I would side with the light and let the dark earth roll from under me calling my mother and my brother to follow I would remind my countrymen that they are to be men first and Americans only at a late and convenient hour no matter how valuable law may be to protect your property even to keep soul and body together if it do not keep you and humanity together I am sorry to say that I doubt if there is a judge in Massachusetts who is prepared to resign his office and get his living innocently whenever it is required of him to pass sentence under a law which is merely contrary to the law of God I am compelled to see that they put themselves or rather are by character in this respect exactly on a level with the marine who discharges his musket in any direction he is ordered to they are just as much tools and as little men certainly they are not the more to be respected because their master and slaves their understandings and consciences instead of their bodies the judges and lawyers simply as such I mean and all men of expediency try this case by a very low and incompetent standard they consider not whether the fugitive slave law is right but whether it is what they call constitutional is virtue constitutional or vice is equity constitutional or inequity in important moral and vital questions like this it is just as important to ask whether a law is constitutional or not as to ask whether it is profitable or not they persist in being the servants of the worst of men and not the servants of humanity the question is not whether you or your grandfather 70 years ago did not enter into an agreement to serve the devil and that service is not accordingly now do but whether you will not now for once and at last serve God in spite of your own past recreancy or that of your ancestor by obeying the eternal and only just constitution which he and not any Jefferson or Adams has written in your being the amount of it if the minority vote the devil to be God the minority will live and behave accordingly and obey the successful candidate trusting that sometime or other by some speakers casting vote perhaps they may reinstate God this is the highest principle I can get out of or invent for my neighbors these men act as if they believed that they could safely slide down a hill a little way they would surely come to a place by and by where they could begin to slide up again this is expediency or choosing the course which offers the slightest obstacles to the feet that is a downhill one but there is no such thing as accomplishing a righteous reform by the use of expediency there is no such thing as sliding uphill in morals the only sliders are backsliders thus we steadily worship mammon state and church and on the seventh day curse God with a titmar from one end of the union to the other well mankind never learn that policy is not morality that it never secures any moral right but considers merely what is expedient chooses the available candidate who is invariably the devil and what right have his constituents to be surprised because the devil does not behave like an angel of light is wanted is men not of policy but of probity who recognize a higher law than the constitution or the decision of the majority the fate of the country does not depend on how you vote at the polls the worst man is as strong as the best at that game it does not depend on what kind of paper you drop into the ballot box once a year but on what kind of man you drop from your chamber into the street every morning what should concern Massachusetts is not the Nebraska bill nor the fugitive slave bill but her own slave holding and servility let the state dissolve her union with the slave holder she may wriggle and hesitate and ask leave to read the constitution once more but she can find no respectable law or precedent which sanctions the continuance of such a union for an instant let each inhabitant of the state dissolve this union with her long as she delays to do her duty the events of the past month teach me to distrust fame I see that she does not finally discriminate but coarsely harass she considers not the simple heroism of an action but only as it is connected with its apparent consequences she praises till she is horse the easy expedient of the Boston Tea Party but will be comparatively silent about the braver and more disinterestingly heroic act on the Boston courthouse simply because it was unsuccessful covered with disgrace the state has sat down coolly to try for their lives and liberties the men who attempted to do its duty for it and this is called justice they who have shown that they can behave particularly well may perchance be put under bonds for their good behavior but whom truth requires at present to plead guilty are the state preeminently innocent while the governor and the mayor and countless officers of the Commonwealth are at large the champions of liberty are imprisoned only they are guiltless who commit the crimes of contempt of such a court it behooves every man to see that his influence is on the side of justice and let the courts make their own characters my sympathies in this case are wholly with the accused their accusers and judges justice is sweet and musical but injustice is harsh and discordant the judge still sits grinding at his organ but it yields no music and we hear only the sound of the handle he believes that all the music resides in the handle and the crowd toss him their coppers the same as before do you suppose that Massachusetts which is now doing these things which hesitates to crown these men some of whose lawyers and even judges perchance may be driven to take refuge in some poor quibble that they may not wholly outrage their instinctive sense of justice do you suppose that she is anything but base and servile that she is the champion of liberty show me a free state in a court truly of justice and I will fight for them if need be but show me Massachusetts express contempt for her courts the effect of a good government is to make life more valuable of a bad one to make it less valuable we can afford that railroad and all merely material stock would lose some of its value for that only compels us to live more simply and economically but suppose that the value of life itself should be diminished how can we make a less demand on man and nature how live more economically in respect to virtue and all noble qualities than we do I have lived for the last month and I think that every man in Massachusetts capable of the sentiment of patriotism must have had a similar experience with the sense of having suffered a vast and indefinite loss I did not know at first what ailed me at last it occurred to me that what I had lost was a country I had never selected the government near to which I lived but I had foolishly thought that I might manage to live here minding my private affairs and forget it for my part my old and worthless pursuits have lost I cannot say how much of their attraction and I feel that my investment in life is worth many percent less since Massachusetts has deliberately sent back an innocent man Anthony Burns to slavery I dwell before perhaps in the illusion that my life passed somewhere only between heaven and hell but now I cannot persuade myself that I do not dwell wholly within hell the sight of that political organization called Massachusetts to me morally covered with volcanic and cinders such as Milton describes in the infernal regions if there is any hell more unprincipled than our rulers and we the ruled I feel curious to see it life itself being worth less all things with it which muster to it are worth less suppose you have a small library with pictures that adorn the walls and a garden laid out around and complete scientific and literally pursuits etc and discover all at once that your villa with all its contents is located in hell and the justice of the peace has a cloven foot and a forked tail do not these things suddenly lose their value in your eyes I feel to some extent the state has fatally interfered with my lawful business it has not only interrupted me in my passage through court street on errands of trade but it has interrupted me and every man on his onward and upward path on which he had trusted soon the street far behind what right had it to remind me of court street I have found that hollow which even I had relied on for solid I am surprised to see men going about their business as if nothing had happened I say to myself unfortunates they have not heard the news I am surprised that the man whom I just met on horseback should be so earnest to overtake that the property is insecure and if they do not run away again they may be taken away from him when he gets them fool does he not know that his seed corn is worthless this year that all beneficent harvests fail as you approach the empire of hell no prudent man will build a stone house under these circumstances or engage in any peaceful enterprise which it requires a long time art is as long as ever but life is more interrupted and less available for a man's proper pursuits it is not an era of response it is not an era of repose we have used up all our inherent freedom if we would save our lives we must fight for them I walk toward one of our ponds but what signifies the beauty of nature when men are base we walk to lakes to see our serenity reflected in them when we are not serene we go not to them who can be serene in a country where both the rulers and the ruled are without principle the remembrance of my country spoils my walk my thoughts are murdered to the state and involuntarily go plotting against her but it chanced the other day that I sent a water lily and a season I had waited for had arrived it is the emblem of purity it bursts up so pure and fair to the eye and so sweet to the scent as if to show us what purity and sweetness reside in and can be extracted from the slime and muck of earth I think that I have plucked the first one that has opened for a mile what confirmation of our hopes is the fragrance of this flower I shall soon despair of the world for it and the cowardice and want of principle of northern men it suggests what kind of laws have prevailed longest and widest and still prevail and that the time may come when men's deeds will smell as sweet such is the odor which the plant emits if nature can compound this fragrance still annually I shall believe her still young and full of vigor her integrity and genius unimpaired and that there is virtue even in man who is fitted to perceive and love it it reminds me that nature has been partner to no Missouri compromise I sent no compromise in the fragrance of the water lily it is not a nymphiomas doglithisa in it the sweet and pure and innocent are wholly surrendered from the obscene and baleful I do not scent in this the time serving a resolution of a massachusetts governor of a Boston mayor so behave that the odor of your actions may enhance the general sweetness of the atmosphere that when we behold or scent a flower we may not be reminded how inconsistent your deeds are with it for all odor is but one form of advertisement of a moral quality and if fair actions had not been performed the lily would not smell sweet all slime stands for the sloth and vice of man the decay of humanity the fragrant flower that springs from it for the purity and courage which are immortal slavery and civility have produced no sweet-scented flower annually to charm the senses of men for they have no real life they are merely a decaying and a death offensive to all healthy nostrils we do not complain that they live but that they do not get buried let the living bury them even they are good for manure