第12章

LittleJoe’sfacebrightenedatonce。

“Dearfather。”criedhe，skippingcheerilytoandfro，“that

strangemanisgone，andtheskyandthemountainsallseemgladof

it！”

“Yes。”growledthelime-burner，withanoath，“buthehasletthe

firegodown，andnothankstohimiffivehundredbushelsoflimeare

notspoiled。IfIcatchthefellowhereaboutsagain，Ishallfeellike

tossinghimintothefurnace！”

Withhislongpoleinhishand，heascendedtothetopofthekiln。

Afteramoment’spause，hecalledtohisson。

“Comeuphere，Joe！”saidhe。

SolittleJoeranupthehillock，andstoodbyhisfather’sside。

Themarblewasallburntintoperfect，snow-whitelime。Butonits

surface，inthemidstofthecircle-snow-whitetoo，andthoroughly

convertedintolime-layahumanskeleton，intheattitudeofaperson

who，afterlongtoil，liesdowntolongrepose。Withintheribs-

strangetosay-wastheshapeofahumanheart。

“Wasthefellow’sheartmadeofmarble？”criedBartram，insome

perplexityatthisphenomenon。“Atanyrate，itisburntintowhat

lookslikespecialgoodlime；and，takingallthebonestogether，my

kilnishalfabushelthericherforhim。”

Sosaying，therudelime-burnerliftedhispole，and，lettingit

fallupontheskeleton，therelicsofEthanBrandwerecrumbledinto

fragments。

byNathanielHawthorne

DICKON。”criedMotherRigby，“acoalformypipe！”Thepipewas

intheolddame’smouthwhenshesaidthesewords。Shehadthrustit

thereafterfillingitwithtobacco，butwithoutstoopingtolight

itatthehearth，whereindeedtherewasnoappearanceofafire

havingbeenkindledthatmorning。Forthwith，however，assoonasthe

orderwasgiven，therewasanintenseredglowoutofthebowlof

thepipe，andawhiffofsmokefromMotherRigby’slips。Whencethe

coalcame，andhowbroughtthitherbyaninvisiblehand，Ihave

neverbeenabletodiscover。

“Good！”quothMotherRigby，withanodofherhead。“Thankye，

Dickon！Andnowformakingthisscarecrow。Bewithincall，Dickon，

incaseIneedyouagain。”

Thegoodwomanhadrisenthusearly(forasyetitwas

scarcelysunrise)inordertosetaboutmakingascarecrow，which

sheintendedtoputinthemiddleofhercorn-patch。Itwasnowthe

latterweekofMay，andthecrowsandblackbirdshadalready

discoveredthelittle，green，rolled-upleafoftheIndiancornjust

peepingoutofthesoil。Shewasdetermined，therefore，tocontriveas

lifelikeascarecrowaseverwasseen，andtofinishitimmediately，

fromtoptotoe，sothatitshouldbeginitssentinel’sdutythatvery

morning。NowMotherRigby(aseverybodymusthaveheard)wasoneof

themostcunningandpotentwitchesinNewEngland，andmight，with

verylittletrouble，havemadeascarecrowuglyenoughtofrightenthe

ministerhimself。Butonthisoccasion，asshehadawakenedinan

uncommonlypleasanthumor，andwasfurtherdulcifiedbyherpipeof

tobacco，sheresolvedtoproducesomethingfine，beautiful，and

splendid，ratherthanhideousandhorrible。

“Idon’twanttosetupahobgoblininmyowncorn-patch，and

almostatmyowndoorstep。”saidMotherRigbytoherself，puffing

outawhiffofsmoke；“IcoulddoitifIpleased，butI’mtiredof

doingmarvellousthings，andsoI’llkeepwithintheboundsof

everydaybusinessjustforvariety’ssake。Besides，thereisnousein

scaringthelittlechildrenforamileroundabout，though’tistrue

I’mawitch。”

Itwassettled，therefore，inherownmind，thatthescarecrow

shouldrepresentafinegentlemanoftheperiod，sofarasthe

materialsathandwouldallow。Perhapsitmaybeaswellto

enumeratethechiefofthearticlesthatwenttothecompositionof

thisfigure。

Themostimportantitemofall，probably，althoughitmadeso

littleshow，wasacertainbroomstick，onwhichMotherRigbyhadtaken

manyanairygallopatmidnight，andwhichnowservedthescarecrowby

wayofaspinalcolumn，or，astheunlearnedphraseit，abackbone。

Oneofitsarmswasadisabledflailwhichusedtobewieldedby

GoodmanRigby，beforehisspouseworriedhimoutofthistroublesome

world；theother，ifImistakenot，wascomposedofthepudding

stickandabrokenrungofachair，tiedlooselytogetheratthe

elbow。Asforitslegs，therightwasahoehandle，andtheleftan

undistinguishedandmiscellaneousstickfromthewoodpile。Its

lungs，stomach，andotheraffairsofthatkindwerenothingbetter

thanamealbagstuffedwithstraw。Thuswehavemadeouttheskeleton

andentirecorporosityofthescarecrow，withtheexceptionofits

head；andthiswasadmirablysuppliedbyasomewhatwitheredand

shrivelledpumpkin，inwhichMotherRigbycuttwoholesforthe

eyes，andaslitforthemouth，leavingabluish-coloredknobinthe

middletopassforanose。Itwasreallyquitearespectableface。

“I’veseenworseonesonhumanshoulders，atanyrate。”saidMother

Rigby。“Andmanyafinegentlemanhasapumpkinhead，aswellasmy

scarecrow。”

Buttheclothes，inthiscase，weretobethemakingoftheman。So

thegoodoldwomantookdownfromapeganancientplum-coloredcoat

ofLondonmake，andwithrelicsofembroideryonitsseams，cuffs，

pocket-flaps，andbutton-holes，butlamentablywornandfaded，patched

attheelbows，tatteredattheskirts，andthreadbareallover。Onthe

leftbreastwasaroundhole，whenceeitherastarofnobilityhad

beenrentaway，orelsethehotheartofsomeformerwearerhad

scorcheditthroughandthrough。Theneighborssaidthatthisrich

garmentbelongedtotheBlackMan’swardrobe，andthathekeptitat

MotherRigby’scottagefortheconvenienceofslippingiton

wheneverhewishedtomakeagrandappearanceatthegovernor’stable。

Tomatchthecoattherewasavelvetwaistcoatofveryamplesize，and

formerlyembroideredwithfoliagethathadbeenasbrightlygolden

asthemapleleavesinOctober，butwhichhadnowquitevanishedout

ofthesubstanceofthevelvet。Nextcameapairofscarlet

breeches，oncewornbytheFrenchgovernorofLouisbourg，andthe

kneesofwhichhadtouchedthelowerstepofthethroneofLouisle

Grand。TheFrenchmanhadgiventhesesmall-clothestoanIndian

powwow，whopartedwiththemtotheoldwitchforagillofstrong

waters，atoneoftheirdancesintheforest。Furthermore，Mother

Rigbyproducedapairofsilkstockingsandputthemonthefigure’s

legs，wheretheyshowedasunsubstantialasadream，withthewooden

realityofthetwosticksmakingitselfmiserablyapparentthroughthe

holes。Lastly，sheputherdeadhusband’swigonthebarescalpofthe

pumpkin，andsurmountedthewholewithadustythree-corneredhat，

inwhichwasstuckthelongesttailfeatherofarooster。

Thentheolddamestoodthefigureupinacornerofhercottage

andchuckledtobeholditsyellowsemblanceofavisage，withits

nobbylittlenosethrustintotheair。Ithadastrangely

self-satisfiedaspect，andseemedtosay，“Comelookatme！”

“Andyouarewellworthlookingat，that’safact！”quothMother

Rigby，inadmirationatherownhandiwork。“I’vemademanyapuppet

sinceI’vebeenawitch，butmethinksthisisthefinestofthem

all。’Tisalmosttoogoodforascarecrow。And，bytheby，I’lljust

fillafreshpipeoftobaccoandthentakehimouttothecorn-patch。”

Whilefillingherpipetheoldwomancontinuedtogazewith

almostmotherlyaffectionatthefigureinthecorner。Tosaythe

truth，whetheritwerechance，orskill，ordownrightwitchcraft，

therewassomethingwonderfullyhumaninthisridiculousshape，

bedizenedwithitstatteredfinery；andasforthecountenance，it

appearedtoshrivelitsyellowsurfaceintoagrin-afunnykindof

expressionbetwixtscornandmerriment，asifitunderstooditself

tobeajestatmankind。ThemoreMotherRigbylookedthebettershe

waspleased。

“Dickon。”criedshesharply，“anothercoalformypipe！”

Hardlyhadshespoken，than，justasbefore，therewasa

red-glowingcoalonthetopofthetobacco。Shedrewinalongwhiff

andpuffeditforthagainintothebarofmorningsunshinewhich

struggledthroughtheonedustypaneofhercottagewindow。Mother

Rigbyalwayslikedtoflavorherpipewithacoaloffirefromthe

particularchimneycornerwhencethishadbeenbrought。Butwherethat

chimneycornermightbe，orwhobroughtthecoalfromit-furtherthan

thattheinvisiblemessengerseemedtorespondtothenameof

Dickon-Icannottell。

“Thatpuppetyonder。”thoughtMotherRigby，stillwithhereyes

fixedonthescarecrow，“istoogoodapieceofworktostandall

summerinacorn-patch，frighteningawaythecrowsandblackbirds。

He’scapableofbetterthings。Why，I’vedancedwithaworseone，when

partnershappenedtobescarce，atourwitchmeetingsintheforest！

WhatifIshouldlethimtakehischanceamongtheothermenof

strawandemptyfellowswhogobustlingabouttheworld？”

Theoldwitchtookthreeorfourmorewhiffsofherpipeand

smiled。

“He’llmeetplentyofhisbrethrenateverystreetcorner！”

continuedshe。“Well；Ididn’tmeantodabbleinwitchcrafttoday，

furtherthanthelightingofmypipe，butawitchIam，andawitch

I’mlikelytobe，andthere’snousetryingtoshirkit。I’llmakea

manofmyscarecrow，wereitonlyforthejoke’ssake！”

Whilemutteringthesewords，MotherRigbytookthepipefromher

ownmouthandthrustitintothecrevicewhichrepresentedthesame

featureinthepumpkinvisageofthescarecrow。

“Puff，darling，puff！”saidshe。“Puffaway，myfinefellow！your

lifedependsonit！”

Thiswasastrangeexhortation，undoubtedly，tobeaddressedtoa

merethingofsticks，straw，andoldclothes，withnothingbetterthan

ashrivelledpumpkinforahead-asweknowtohavebeenthe

scarecrow’scase。Nevertheless，aswemustcarefullyholdin

remembrance，MotherRigbywasawitchofsingularpoweranddexterity；

and，keepingthisfactdulybeforeourminds，weshallseenothing

beyondcredibilityintheremarkableincidentsofourstory。Indeed，

thegreatdifficultywillbeatoncegotover，ifwecanonlybring

ourselvestobelievethat，assoonastheolddamebadehimpuff，

therecameawhiffofsmokefromthescarecrow’smouth。Itwasthe

veryfeeblestofwhiffs，tobesure；butitwasfollowedbyanother

andanother，eachmoredecidedthantheprecedingone。

“Puffaway，mypet！puffaway，myprettyone！”MotherRigbykept

repeating，withherpleasantestsmile。“Itisthebreathoflifeto

ye；andthatyoumaytakemywordfor。”