The Blithedale Romance - Page 122/170

In that spot, unquestionably, and

not in the brain, was the acme of the whole affair. But the true

purpose of their drinking--and one that will induce men to drink, or do

something equivalent, as long as this weary world shall endure--was the

renewed youth and vigor, the brisk, cheerful sense of things present

and to come, with which, for about a quarter of an hour, the dram

permeated their systems. And when such quarters of an hour can be

obtained in some mode less baneful to the great sum of a man's

life,--but, nevertheless, with a little spice of impropriety, to give

it a wild flavor,--we temperance people may ring out our bells for

victory!

The prettiest object in the saloon was a tiny fountain, which threw up

its feathery jet through the counter, and sparkled down again into an

oval basin, or lakelet, containing several goldfishes. There was a bed

of bright sand at the bottom, strewn with coral and rock-work; and the

fishes went gleaming about, now turning up the sheen of a golden side,

and now vanishing into the shadows of the water, like the fanciful

thoughts that coquet with a poet in his dream. Never before, I

imagine, did a company of water-drinkers remain so entirely

uncontaminated by the bad example around them; nor could I help

wondering that it had not occurred to any freakish inebriate to empty a

glass of liquor into their lakelet. What a delightful idea! Who would

not be a fish, if he could inhale jollity with the essential element of

his existence!

I had begun to despair of meeting old Moodie, when, all at once, I

recognized his hand and arm protruding from behind a screen that was

set up for the accommodation of bashful topers. As a matter of course,

he had one of Priscilla's little purses, and was quietly insinuating it

under the notice of a person who stood near. This was always old

Moodie's way. You hardly ever saw him advancing towards you, but

became aware of his proximity without being able to guess how he had

come thither. He glided about like a spirit, assuming visibility close

to your elbow, offering his petty trifles of merchandise, remaining

long enough for you to purchase, if so disposed, and then taking

himself off, between two breaths, while you happened to be thinking of

something else.

By a sort of sympathetic impulse that often controlled me in those more

impressible days of my life, I was induced to approach this old man in

a mode as undemonstrative as his own. Thus, when, according to his

custom, he was probably just about to vanish, he found me at his elbow.