evergreens-第2章
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get dirty； shabby frocks and slommicking dressing…gowns； such as your
cook would be ashamed to wear。 _You_ will not get the charm and
fascination。 _You_ will get the after…headaches； the complainings and
grumblings； the silence and sulkiness； the weariness and lassitude and
ill…temper that comes as such a relief after working hard all day at
being pleasant！
It is not the people who shine in society； but the people who brighten
up the back parlor； not the people who are charming when they are out；
but the people who are charming when they are in； that are good to
_live_ with。 It is not the brilliant men and women； but the simple；
strong； restful men and women； that make the best traveling companions
for the road of life。 The men and women who will only laugh as they
put up the umbrella when the rain begins to fall； who will trudge
along cheerfully through the mud and over the stony placesthe
comrades who will lay their firm hand on ours and strengthen us when
the way is dark and we are growing weakthe evergreen men and women；
who； like the holly； are at their brightest and best when the blast
blows chilliestthe stanch men and women！
It is a grand thing this stanchness。 It is the difference between a
dog and a sheepbetween a man and an oyster。
Women； as a rule； are stancher than men。 There are women that you
feel you could rely upon to the death。 But very few men indeed have
this dog…like virtue。 Men； taking them generally； are more like cats。
You may live with them and call them yours for twenty years； but you
can never feel _quite_ sure of them。 You never know exactly what they
are thinking of。 You never feel easy in your mind as to the result of
the next…door neighbor's laying down a Brussels carpet in his kitchen。
We have no school for the turning…out of stanch men in this nineteenth
century。 In the old； earnest times； war made men stanch and true to
each other。 We have learned up a good many glib phrases about the
wickedness of war； and we thank God that we live in these peaceful；
trading times； wherein we canand dodevote the whole of our
thoughts and energies to robbing and cheating and swindling one
anotherto 〃doing〃 our friends； and overcoming our enemies by
trickery and lieswherein； undisturbed by the wicked ways of
fighting…men； we can cultivate to better perfection the 〃smartness；〃
the craft； and the cunning； and all the other 〃business…like〃 virtues
on which we so pride ourselves； and which were so neglected and
treated with so little respect in the bad old age of violence； when
men chose lions and eagles for their symbols rather than foxes。
There is a good deal to be said against war。 I am not prepared to
maintain that war did not bring with it disadvantages； but there can
be no doubt that； for the noblest work of Naturethe making of
menit was a splendid manufactory。 It taught men courage。 It
trained them in promptness and determination； in strength of brain and
strength of hand。 From its stern lessons they learned fortitude in
suffering； coolness in danger； cheerfulness under reverses。 Chivalry；
Reverence； and Loyalty are the beautiful children of ugly War。 But；
above all gifts； the greatest gift it gave to men was stanchness。
It first taught men to be true to one another； to be true to their
duty； true to their post； to be in all things faithful； even unto
death。
The martyrs that died at the stake； the explorers that fought with
Nature and opened up the world for us； the reformers （they had to do
something more than talk in those days） who won for us our liberties；
the men who gave their lives to science and art； when science and art
brought； not as now； fame and fortune； but shame and penurythey
sprang from the loins of the rugged men who had learned； on many a
grim battlefield； to laugh at pain and death； who had had it hammered
into them； with many a hard blow； that the whole duty of a man in this
world is to be true to his trust； and fear not。
Do you remember the story of the old Viking who had been converted to
Christianity； and who； just as they were about； with much joy； to
baptize him； paused and asked： 〃But whatif this； as you tell me； is
the only way to the true Valhallawhat has become of my comrades； my
friends who are dead； who died in the old faithwhere are they？〃
The priests； confused； replied there could be no doubt those
unfortunate folk had gone to a place they would rather not mention。
〃Then；〃 said the old warrior； stepping back； 〃I will not be baptized。
I will go along with my own people。〃
He had lived with them； fought beside them； they were his people。 He
would stand by them to the endof eternity。 Most assuredly； a very
shocking old Viking！ But I think it might be worth while giving up
our civilization and our culture to get back to the days when they
made men like that。
The only reminder of such times that we have left us now； is the
bull…dog； and he is fast dying outthe pity of it！ What a splendid
old dog he is！ so grim； so silent； so stanch； so terrible； when he has
got his idea； of his duty clear before him； so absurdly meek； when it
is only himself that is concerned。
He is the gentlest； too； and the most lovable of all dogs。 He does
not look it。 The sweetness of his disposition would not strike the
casual observer at first glance。 He resembles the gentleman spoken of
in the oft…quoted stanza：
'E's all right when yer knows 'im。
But yer've got to know 'im fust。
The first time I ever met a bull…dogto speak to； that iswas many
years ago。 We were lodging down in the country； an orphan friend of
mine named George； and myself； and one night； coming home late from
some dissolving views we found the family had gone to bed。 They had
left a light in our room； however； and we went in and sat down； and
began to take off our boots。
And then； for the first time； we noticed on the hearthrug a bull…dog。
A dog with a more thoughtfully ferocious expressiona dog with；
apparently； a heart more dead to all ennobling and civilizing
sentimentsI have never seen。 As George said； he looked more like
some heathen idol than a happy English dog。
He appeared to have been waiting for us； and he rose up and greeted us
with a ghastly grin； and got between us and the door。
We smiled at hima sickly； propitiatory smile。 We said； 〃Good
dogpoor fellow！〃 and we asked him； in tones implying that the
question could admit of no negative； if he was not a 〃nice old chap。〃
We did not really think so。 We had our own private opinion concerning
him； and it was unfavorable。 But we did not express it。 We would not
have hurt his feelings for the world。 He was a visitor； our guest； so
to speakand； as well…brought…up young men； we felt that the right
thing to do was for us to prevent his gaining any hint that we were
not glad to see him； and to make him feel as little as possible the
awkwardness of his position。
I think we succeeded。 He was singularly unembarrassed； and far more
at his ease than even we were。 He took but little notice of our
flattering remarks； but was much drawn toward George's legs。 George
used to be； I remember； rather proud of his legs。 I could never see
enough in them myself to excuse George's vanity； indeed； they always
struck me as lumpy。 It is only fair to acknowledge； however； that
they quite fascinated that bull…dog。 He walked over and criticized
them with the air of a long…baffled connoisseur who had at last found
his ideal。 At the termination of his inspection he distinctly smiled。
George； who at that time was modest and bashful； blushed and drew them
up on to the chair。 On the dog's displaying a desire to follow them；
George moved up on to the table； and squatted there in the middle；
nursing his knees。 George's legs being lost to him； the dog appeared
inclined to console himself with mine。 I went and sat beside George
on the table。
Sitting with your feet drawn up in front of you； on a small and
rickety one…legged table； is a most trying exercise； especially if you
are not used to it。 George and I both felt our position keenly。 We
did not like to call out for help； and bring the family down。 We
