XIV
Froth
From now on to the spring Yan was daily gaining in strength, and heand his mother came closer together. She tried to take an interest inthe pursuits that were his whole nature. But she also strove hard tomake him take an interest in her world. She was a morbidly religiouswoman. Her conversation was bristling with Scripture texts. She hada vast store of them--indeed, she had them all; and she used them onevery occasion possible and impossible, with bewildering efficiency.
If ever she saw a group of young people dancing, romping, playing anygame, or even laughing heartily, she would interrupt them to say,"Children, are you sure you can ask God's blessing on all this? Do youthink that beings with immortal souls to save should give rein to suchfrivolity! I fear you are sinning, and be sure your sin will findyou out. Remember, that for every idle word and deed we must give anaccount to the Great Judge of Heaven and earth."
She was perfectly sincere in all this, but she never ceased, exceptduring the time of her son's illness, when, under orders from thedoctor, she avoided the painful topic of eternal happiness and triedto simulate an interest in his pursuits. This was the blessed trucethat brought them together.
He found a confidante for the first time since he met the collarlessstranger, and used to tell all his loves and fears among the woodfolkand things. He would talk about this or that bird or flower, and hopedto find out its name, till the mother would suddenly feel shocked thatany being with an immortal soul to save could talk so seriouslyabout anything outside of the Bible; then gently reprove her son andherself, too, with a number of texts.
He might reply with others, for he was well equipped. But herunanswerable answer would be: "There is but one thing needful. Whatprofiteth it a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"
These fencing bouts grew more frequent as Yan grew stronger and thedoctor's inhibition was removed.
After one of unusual warmth, Yan realized with a chill that all herinterest in his pursuits had been an affected one. He was silent along time, then said: "Mother! you like to talk about your Bible. Ittells you the things that you long to know, that you love to learn.You would be unhappy if you went a day without reading a chapter ortwo. That is your nature; God made you so.
"I have been obliged to read the Bible all my life. Every day I read achapter; but I do not love it. I read it because I am forced to do it.It tells me nothing I want to know. It does not teach me to love God,which you say is the one thing needful. But I go out into the woods,and every bird and flower I see stirs me to the heart with something,I do not know what it is; only I love them: I love them with all mystrength, and they make me feel like praying when your Bible does not.They are my Bible. This is my nature. God made me so."
The mother was silent after this, but Yan could see that she waspraying for him as for a lost soul.
A few days later they were out walking in the early spring morning.A Shore-lark on a clod whistled prettily as it felt the growingsunshine.
Yan strained his eyes and attention to take it in. He crept up nearit. It took wing, and as it went he threw after it a short stick hewas carrying. The stick whirled over and struck the bird. It fellfluttering. Yan rushed wildly after it and caught it in spite of hismother's calling him back.
He came with the bird in his hand, but it did not live many minutes.His mother was grieved and disgusted. She said. "So this is the greatlove you have for the wild things; the very first spring bird to singyou must club to death. I do not understand your affections. Are nottwo sparrows sold for one farthing, and yet not one of them falls tothe ground without the knowledge of your heavenly Father."
Yan was crushed. He held the dead bird in his hand and said,contradictorily, as the tears stood in his eyes, "I wish I hadn't; butoh, it was so beautiful."
He could not explain, because he did not understand, and yet was nohypocrite.
Weeks later a cheap trip gave him the chance for the first time in hislife to see Niagara. As he stood with his mother watching the racingflood, in the gorge below the cataract, he noticed straws, bubbles andfroth, that seemed to be actually moving upstream. He said:
"Mother, you see the froth how it seems to go up-stream."
"Well!"
"Yet we know it is a trifle and means nothing. We know that just belowthe froth is the deep, wide, terrible, irresistible, arrowy flood,surging all the other way."
"Yes, my son."
"Well, Mother, when I killed the Shore-lark, that was froth going thewrong way, I did love the little bird. I know now why I killed it.Because it was going away from me. If I could have seen it near andcould have touched it, or even have heard it every day, I should neverhave wished to harm it. I didn't mean _to kill it_, only _toget it_. You gather flowers because you love to keep them near you,not because you want to destroy them. They die and you are sorry. Ionly tried to gather the Shore-lark as you would a flower. It died,and I was very, very sorry."
"Nevertheless," the mother replied, "the merciful man is merciful untohis beast. He who hearkens when the young Ravens cry, surely took noteof it, and in His great Book of Remembrance it is written down againstyou."
And from that time they surely drifted apart.
PART II
SANGER & SAM