Read Ebook: Kukkia Kantelettaren kaskilta by Forsman Kaarlo

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Ebook has 309 lines and 17825 words, and 7 pages

"No, you mustn't!" she warned, drawing both hands out of reach. "You'll only declare that I encouraged you."

At that he gasped audibly. "Encouraged me!" he exclaimed when he breathed normally again. "Aren't you a little late with your caution? I suppose I never have been encouraged."

"There! I knew you'd say it."

"Well, I've held your hands dozens of times, haven't I? More than that, I've held you in my arms, and I've kissed your lips and your eyes and your hair. Isn't that encouragement?"

She smiled calmly and whimsically.

"Yes. Encouragement for me. I couldn't resist you."

"Your heart isn't a cinder at all," he growled, frowning. "It's a stone! How many other men have you treated like this?"

"None," she answered boldly. "I never treat two alike. I have too much imagination for that. There are always variations."

His voice was very bitter as he said: "You'll meet your match some day. I hope to God you will!"

"I've met him already," she returned. "He's the only man I care a straw about."

"Your husband?" he hazarded.

"Good Heavens! No! Poor Darling! He doesn't deserve the life I lead him. I'm charitable enough to wish him a better fate."

"What happened to your match then?"

"Now you are asking riddles," she said. "That question has never been satisfactorily answered."

"You mean you don't wish to tell me, I suppose."

"I'd give anything in the world if I could. He was reported dead eight years ago, but--"

"He isn't?"

"He wasn't then."

"How do you know?"

"He was heard from after."

"Then he's alive still--you know that much?"

"No," she replied languorously. "I don't know that much. He may have died since, don't you see?"

"Let me find out for you," he proposed abruptly. "I'll--"

"You're very kind, but you'd have your trouble for your pains. He doesn't want to be found, wherever he is, dead or alive, and I'll back him against the world when it comes to having his own way."

She shivered slightly and drew the filmy scarf closer over her bare shoulders. "Besides," she added, "when the message was sent he was starting for 'the world's end,' and 'the world's end' is a big place to find a man. The needle and the hayrick are child's play to it."

"I'm terribly interested," said young Andrews. "I am really. I didn't believe you'd admit any chap was your match. Do you mind telling me what he was like?"

"He was more than my match," she confessed. "He was something else, and that is why no other man ever will be able to please me after his newness has worn off."

"As mine has?"

"As yours has."

"Gad! But you're frank, Nina."

"I know it. It's my one admirable quality. I'm tired of you, Gerald. I always get tired in the same place."

"The same place?" he repeated, puzzled.

"When they're not satisfied with a day and want to make it forever. The mere thought of forever wearies me. I feel like killing a man when he so much as hints at it."

"You haven't killed your husband," he reminded her.

"Ah, but how I have been tempted!" she laughed. "Some day I may."

"I know something of what a beast Darling is," he ventured. "I've heard it at the club. They say--"

"Don't!" she begged. "I won't listen. It may all be true, but I'd rather not hear it. I'm sorry for him. I'd only kill him to put him out of his misery--to put us both out of our misery."

"Of course you don't mean that. You shouldn't say it."

She didn't contradict him, and for a little there was silence between them. His thoughts reverted to the man who was her match--and more.

"And the other man?" he queried. "You said he was something else. What else?"

"My mate," she said simply. And again the silence fell.

Presently her laugh rang out, clear and bell-like, startling her companion from gloomy reverie. It jarred awfully. It was like dance music at a funeral.

"I can fancy what else you've heard at the club," she began, the opal lights in her eyes suddenly blazing. "They say I'm an angel, don't they?"

"They wouldn't dare say anything else in my presence."

"To be sure"--bitterly--"that's condemnation enough in itself. Before you they pronounced me a good and virtuous wife, I suppose. And behind your back--Good Heavens, what must they not say behind your back!"

Parempi tyyty? ja turvata Jumalaan:

Waan ell?s sukuni surko, Kamaloiko ristikansa Mun poloisen p?ivi?ni, Angervoisen aikojani! Eip? heit? Herra Kiesus, Hylke? hyv? Jumala.

I 18.

Olemme pitk?lt? esitt?neet surulauluja, sent?hden ett? surumielisyys enemm?n tai v?hemm?n painaa sumean s?vyns? Suomen kansanrunouteen yleens?. Suomen laulu on kuin sen luontokin vakavaa, sumeaa, surunvoitteista. Talvi kolkko ja pime? vallitsee t??ll? enimm?n osan vuotta. Kes?mme on kyll? ihana, kun luonto ?kki? her?? horrostaan ja kiireesti pukeutuu juhlaverhoonsa, kun mets?t, harjut, j?rvet, niityt uivat valossa ja ilo kaikuu kaikkialla -- mutta suvi on niin per?ti lyhyt, luonto on tuskin ehtinyt virota t?yteen eloon, kun se taas vaipuu hautaansa ja -- tuo tieto sumentaa suvenkin iloa.

Lauluissa kuvastuu laulajan mieliala. Laulaja on oma kansamme ja t?m?p? luonteeltaan ei ole vilkasta ja remuisan iloitsevaa, vaan on tunnettu juroksi, vakavaksi, useinpa kolkoksikin. Karkean pinnan alla piilee kuitenkin enemm?n kuin outo arvaisikaan, lempe?, hyv?? ja kaunista. Suomalainen on j?ykkyydess??n hell?tuntoinen ja h?nell? on rikas mielikuvitus, siis ominaisuuksia, jotka tarjoovat runoudelle suopean maanlaadun. Miellytt?v?, suloinen on puro, joka iloissaan hyrskii hiekkaansa my?ten, kun valo v?lkehtii sen vihmoissa, mutta se tuo heti n?kyviin kaikki sulonsa ja sen matalalla pohjalla on vain soraa ja kivi?. Toista on hiljaisen, syv?n lammen laita, joka salon helmassa piillen kalvoonsa kuvastaa karkean rantat?rm?n honkia ja taivaan ikikorkeutta, jota kohden mets?n hiljainen humina kohoo kuin rukous. Hiljainen, miltei autio on rauha mets?lammen laiteella. Wallitseepa siell? sent??n el?m??kin suven sulop?ivin?, kun kultarinnat kukkuvat, peipot visertelev?t lemmenlaulujaan, kun vuokko avaa sinisilm?ns? ja mansikan poski punertaa. T?mm?inen on mets?n lammen ja sen seutujen kauneus: kainoa, hiljaista, puhdasta. Samanlaatuista on Suomen laulu; uskollisesti se kuvastaa sen maan ja kansan henke?, josta se on syntynyt.

Niinp? siis: luonto on laulajan yst?v? tai tuttava ja esiintyy mielellisn? ja kielellisn?. "N?in usein jutellaan lintujen, kalain ja muiden el?v?in, jopa puiden, kukkain, kivien ja kantojen, j?rvien ja jokien y.m. kanssa". "Yks' on tuuli tuttujani, p?iv? ennen n?htyj?ni". Ja erinomainen tunteen hellyys vallitsee t?ss? laulajan ja luonnon v?lisuhteessa useinkin: luonto suree ja iloitsee ihmisen kanssa. Siin? miss? on surkea onnettomuus tapahtunut, itkee nurmi, aho valittaa, ruoho murtuu murheeseen, ettei en?? jaksa kasvaa eik? kukkia. Luonnon hellyyden palkitsee ihminen samallaisella hellyydell? puolestaan. Niinp? tuo, joka heitt?? murheensa korpin pois-viet?viksi, varoittaa lintua lampiin niit? hukuttamasta, sill?

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