North of Boston Robert Frost (desktop ebook reader TXT) đ
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- Author: Robert Frost
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âThis will be yours. Good-night,â he said, and went.
âLafe was the name, I think?â
âYes, Layfayette.
You got it the first time. And yours?â
âMagoon.
Doctor Magoon.â
âA Doctor?â
âWell, a teacher.â
âProfessor Square-the-circle-till-youâre-tired?
Hold on, thereâs something I donât think of now
That I had on my mind to ask the first
Man that knew anything I happened in with.
Iâll ask you laterâ âdonât let me forget it.â
The Doctor looked at Lafe and looked away.
A man? A brute. Naked above the waist,
He sat there creased and shining in the light,
Fumbling the buttons in a well-starched shirt.
âIâm moving into a size-larger shirt.
Iâve felt mean lately; meanâs no name for it.
I just found what the matter was to-night:
Iâve been a-choking like a nursery tree
When it outgrows the wire band of its name tag.
I blamed it on the hot spell weâve been having.
âTis nothing but my foolish hanging back,
Not liking to own up Iâd grown a size.
Number eighteen this is. What size do you wear?â
The Doctor caught his throat convulsively.
âOhâ âahâ âfourteenâ âfourteen.â
âFourteen! You say so!
I can remember when I wore fourteen.
And come to think I must have back at home
More than a hundred collars, size fourteen.
Too bad to waste them all. You ought to have them.
Theyâre yours and welcome; let me send them to you.
What makes you stand there on one leg like that?
Youâre not much furtherer than where Kike left you.
You act as if you wished you hadnât come.
Sit down or lie down, friend; you make me nervous.â
The Doctor made a subdued dash for it,
And propped himself at bay against a pillow.
âNot that way, with your shoes on Kikeâs white bed.
You canât rest that way. Let me pull your shoes off.â
âDonât touch me, pleaseâ âI say, donât touch me, please.
Iâll not be put to bed by you, my man.â
âJust as you say. Have it your own way then.
âMy manâ is it? You talk like a professor.
Speaking of whoâs afraid of who, however,
Iâm thinking I have more to lose than you
If anything should happen to be wrong.
Who wants to cut your number fourteen throat!
Letâs have a show down as an evidence
Of good faith. There is ninety dollars.
Come, if youâre not afraid.â
âIâm not afraid.
Thereâs five: thatâs all I carry.â
âI can search you?
Where are you moving over to? Stay still.
Youâd better tuck your money under you
And sleep on it the way I always do
When Iâm with people I donât trust at night.â
âWill you believe me if I put it there
Right on the counterpaneâ âthat I do trust you?â
âYouâd say so, Mister Man.â âIâm a collector.
My ninety isnât mineâ âyou wonât think that.
I pick it up a dollar at a time
All round the country for the Weekly News,
Published in Bow. You know the Weekly News?â
âKnown it since I was young.â
âThen you know me.
Now we are getting on togetherâ âtalking.
Iâm sort of Something for it at the front.
My business is to find what people want:
They pay for it, and so they ought to have it.
Fairbanks, he says to meâ âheâs editorâ â
Feel out the public sentimentâ âhe says.
A good deal comes on me when all is said.
The only trouble is we disagree
In politics: Iâm Vermont Democratâ â
You know what that is, sort of double-dyed;
The News has always been Republican.
Fairbanks, he says to me, âHelp us this year,â
Meaning by us their ticket. âNo,â I says,
âI canât and wonât. Youâve been in long enough:
Itâs time you turned around and boosted us.
Youâll have to pay me more than ten a week
If Iâm expected to elect Bill Taft.
I doubt if I could do it anyway.âââ
âYou seem to shape the paperâs policy.â
âYou see Iâm in with everybody, know âem all.
I almost know their farms as well as they do.â
âYou drive around? It must be pleasant work.â
âItâs business, but I canât say itâs not fun.
What I like bestâs the lay of different farms,
Coming out on them from a stretch of woods,
Or over a hill or round a sudden corner.
I like to find folks getting out in spring,
Raking the dooryard, working near the house.
Later they get out further in the fields.
Everythingâs shut sometimes except the barn;
The familyâs all away in some back meadow.
Thereâs a hay load a-comingâ âwhen it comes.
And later still they all get driven in:
The fields are stripped to lawn, the garden patches
Stripped to bare ground, the apple trees
To whips and poles. Thereâs nobody about.
The chimney, though, keeps up a good brisk smoking.
And I lie back and ride. I take the reins
Only when someoneâs coming, and the mare
Stops when she likes: I tell her when to go.
Iâve spoiled Jemima in more ways than one.
Sheâs got so she turns in at every house
As if she had some sort of curvature,
No matter if I have no errand there.
She thinks Iâm sociable. I maybe am.
Itâs seldom I get down except for meals, though.
Folks entertain me from the kitchen doorstep,
All in a family row down to the youngest.â
âOne would suppose they might not be as glad
To see you as you are to see them.â
âOh,
Because I want their dollar. I donât want
Anything theyâve not got. I never dun.
Iâm there, and they can pay me if they like.
I go nowhere on purpose: I happen by.
Sorry there is no cup to give you a drink.
I drink out of the bottleâ ânot your style.
Maynât I offer youâ â?â
âNo, no, no, thank you.â
âJust as you say. Hereâs looking at you then.â â
And now Iâm leaving you a little while.
Youâll rest easier when Iâm gone, perhapsâ â
Lie downâ âlet yourself go and get some sleep.
But firstâ âletâs seeâ âwhat was I going to ask you?
Those collarsâ âwho shall I address them to,
Suppose you arenât awake when I come back?â
âReally, friend, I canât let you. Youâ âmay need them.â
âNot till I shrink, when theyâll be out of style.â
âBut really Iâ âI have so many collars.â
âI donât know who I rather would have have them.
Theyâre only turning yellow where they are.
But youâre the doctor as the saying is.
Iâll put the light out. Donât you wait for me:
Iâve just begun the night. You get some sleep.
Iâll knock so-fashion and peep round the door
When I come back so youâll know who it is.
Thereâs nothing Iâm afraid of like scared people.
I donât want you should shoot
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