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第130章 A Rill From the Town-pump(1)

(SCENE, the corner of two principal streets, theTOWN-PUMP talking through its nose.)

Noon by the north clock! Noon by the east! Highnoon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which full, scarcelyaslope, upon my head and almost make the water bubbleand smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, we publiccharacters have a tough time of it! And among all thetown-officers chosen at March meeting, where is he thatsustains for a single year the burden of such manifoldduties as are imposed in perpetuity upon the town-pump?

The title of “town-treasurer” is rightfully mine, as guardianof the best treasure that the town has. The overseers ofthe poor ought to make me their chairman, since I providebountifully for the pauper without expense to him thatpays taxes. I am at the head of the fire department andone of the physicians to the board of health. As a keeperof the peace all water-drinkers will confess me equal to theconstable. I perform some of the duties of the town-clerkby promulgating public notices when they are posted onmy front. To speak within bounds, I am the chief personof the municipality, and exhibit, moreover, an admirablepattern to my brother-officers by the cool, steady, upright,downright and impartial discharge of my business andthe constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer orwinter, nobody seeks me in vain, for all day long I am seenat the busiest corner, just above the market, stretchingout my arms to rich and poor alike, and at night I hold alantern over my head both to show where I am and keeppeople out of the gutters. At this sultry noontide I amcupbearer to the parched populace, for whose benefit aniron goblet is chained to my waist. Like a dramseller onthe mall at muster-day, I cry aloud to all and sundry in myplainest accents and at the very tiptop of my voice.

Here it is, gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walkup, walk up, gentlemen! Walk up, walk up! Here is thesuperior stuff! Here is the unadulterated ale of FatherAdam—better than Cognac, Hollands, Jamaica, strongbeer or wine of any price; here it is by the hogshead or thesingle glass, and not a cent to pay! Walk up, gentlemen,walk up, and help yourselves!

It were a pity if all this outcry should draw no customers.

Here they come. A hot day, gentlemen! Quaff and awayagain, so as to keep yourselves in a nice cool sweat. You,my friend, will need another cupful to wash the dust out ofyour throat, if it be as thick there as it is on your cowhideshoes. I see that you have trudged half a score of miles today,and like a wise man have passed by the taverns andstopped at the running brooks and well-curbs. Otherwise,betwixt heat without and fire within, you would havebeen burnt to a cinder or melted down to nothing at all,in the fashion of a jelly-fish. Drink and make room forthat other fellow, who seeks my aid to quench the fieryfever of last night’s potations, which he drained from nocup of mine. Welcome, most rubicund sir! You and I havebeen great strangers hitherto; nor, to confess the truth,will my nose be anxious for a closer intimacy till the fumesof your breath be a little less potent. Mercy on you, man!

the water absolutely hisses down your red-hot gullet andis converted quite to steam in the miniature Tophet whichyou mistake for a stomach. Fill again, and tell me, on theword of an honest toper, did you ever, in cellar, tavern, orany kind of a dram-shop, spend the price of your children’sfood for a swig half so delicious? Now, for the first timethese ten years, you know the flavor of cold water. Goodbye;and whenever you are thirsty, remember that I keepa constant supply at the old stand. Who next? Oh, mylittle friend, you are let loose from school and come hitherto scrub your blooming face and drown the memory ofcertain taps of the ferule, and other schoolboy troubles,in a draught from the town-pump? Take it, pure as thecurrent of your young life. Take it, and may your heart andtongue never be scorched with a fiercer thirst than now!

There, my dear child! put down the cup and yield yourplace to this elderly gentleman who treads so tenderly overthe paving-stones that I suspect he is afraid of breakingthem. What! he limps by without so much as thankingme, as if my hospitable offers were meant only for peoplewho have no wine-cellars. Well, well, sir, no harm done,I hope? Go draw the cork, tip the decanter; but whenyour great toe shall set you a-roaring, it will be no affairof mine. If gentlemen love the pleasant titillation of thegout, it is all one to the town-pump. This thirsty dog withhis red tongue lolling out does not scorn my hospitality,but stands on his hind legs and laps eagerly out of thetrough. See how lightly he capers away again! Jowler, didyour worship ever have the gout?

Are you all satisfied? Then wipe your mouths, my goodfriends, and while my spout has a moment’s leisure I willdelight the town with a few historical remniscences. In farantiquity, beneath a darksome shadow of venerable boughs,a spring bubbled out of the leaf-strewn earth in the veryspot where you now behold me on the sunny pavement.

The water was as bright and clear and deemed as preciousas liquid diamonds. The Indian sagamores drank of itfrom time immemorial till the fatal deluge of the firewaterburst upon the red men and swept their whole race awayfrom the cold fountains. Endicott and his followerscame next, and often knelt down to drink, dipping theirlong beards in the spring. The richest goblet then wasof birch-bark. Governor Winthrop, after a journey afootfrom Boston, drank here out of the hollow of his hand.

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