《高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain》go tell it on the mountain-第20章

the　wage　of　sin；　and　now　and　again　she　moaned。　Elisha　had　not　lookedup　when　she　came　in；　and　he　prayed　in　silence：　sweat　stood　on　his　brow。　Sister　McCandless　andSister　Price　cried　out　every　now　and　again：　‘Yes；　Lord！’　or：　‘Bless　your　name；　Jesus！’　And　hisfather　prayed；　his　head　lifted　up　and　his　voice　going　on　like　a　distant　mountain　stream。
But　his　Aunt　Florence　was　silent；　he　wondered　if　she　slept。　He　had　never　seen　her　prayingin　a　church　before。　He　knew　that　different　people　prayed　in　different　ways：　has　his　aunt　alwaysprayed　in　such　a　silence？　His　mother；　too；　was　silent；　but　he　had　seen　her　pray　before；　and　hersilence　made　him　feel　that　she　was　weeping。　And　why　did　she　weep？　And　why　did　they　e　here；night　after　night；　calling　out　to　a　God　who　cared　nothing　for　them—if；　above　this　flaking　ceiling；there　was　any　God　at　all？　Then　he　remembered　that　the　fool　has　said　in　his　heart；　There　is　no　God—and　he　dropped　his　eyes；　seeing　that　over　his　Aunt　Florence’s　head　Praying　Mother　Washingtonwas　looking　at　him。
Frank　sang　the　blues；　and　he　drunk　too　much。　His　skin　was　the　color　of　caramel　candy。　Perhaps　forthis　reason　she　always　thought　of　him　as　having　candy　in　his　mouth；　candy　staining　the　edges　ofhis　straight；　cruel　teeth。　For　a　while　he　wore　a　tiny　mustache；　but　she　made　him　shave　it　off；　for　itmade　him　look；　she　thought；　like　a　half…breed　gigolo。　In　details　such　as　this　he　was　always　veryeasy—he　would　always　put　on　a　clean　shirt；　or　get　his　hair　cut；　or　e　with　her　to　Uplift　meetingswhere　they　heard　speeches　by　prominent　Negroes　about　the　future　and　duties　of　the　Negro　race。
And　this　had　given　her；　in　the　beginning　of　their　marriage；　the　impression　that　she　controlled　him。
This　impression　had　been　entirely　and　disastrously　false。
When　he　had　left　her；　more　than　twenty　years　before；　and　after　more　than　ten　years　ofmarriage；　she　had　felt　for　that　moment　only　an　exhausted　exasperation　and　a　vast　relief。　He　had　notbeen　home　for　two　days　and　three　nights；　and　when　he　did　return　they　quarreled　with　more　thantheir　usual　bitterness。　All　of　the　rage　she　had　accumulated　during　their　marriage　was　told　him　inthat　evening　as　they　stood　in　their　small　kitchen。　He　was　still　wearing　overalls；　and　he　had　notshaved；　and　his　face　was　muddy　with　sweat　and　dirt。　He　had　said　nothing　for　a　long　while；　andthen　he　had　said：　‘All　right；　baby。　I　guess　you　don’t　never　want　to　see　me　no　more；　not　a　miserable；black　sinner　like　me。’　The　door　closed　behind　him；　and　she　heard　his　feet　echoing　down　the　longhall；　away。　She　stood　alone　in　the　kitchen；　holding　the　empty　coffee…pot　that　she　had　been　about　towash。　She　thought：　‘He’ll　e　back；　and　he’ll　e　back　drunk。’　And　then　she　had　thought；looking　about　the　kitchen：　‘Lord；　wouldn’t　it　be　a　blessing　if　he　didn’t　never　e　back　no　more。’
The　Lord　had　given　her　what　she　said　she　wanted；　as　was　often；　she　had　found；　His　bewilderingmethod　of　answering　prayer。　Frank　never　did　e　back。　He　lived　for　a　long　while　with　anotherwoman；　and　when　the　war　came　he　died　in　France。
Now；　somewhere　at　the　other　end　of　the　earth；　her　husband　lay　buried。　He　slept　in　a　landhis　fathers　had　never　seen。　She　wondered　often　if　his　grave　was　marked—if　there　stood　over　it；　asin　pictures　she　had　seen；　a　small　white　cross。　If　the　Lord　had　ever　allowed　her　to　cross　that　swelling　ocean　she　would　have　gone；　among　all　the　millions　buried　there；　to　seek　out　his　grave。
Wearing　deep　mourning；　she　would　have　laid　on　it；　perhaps；　a　wreath　of　flowers；　as　other　womendid；　and　stood　for　a　moment；　head　bowed；　considering　the　unspeaking　ground。　How　terrible　itwould　be　for　Frank　to　rise　on　the　day　of　judgment　so　far　from　home！　And　he　surely　would　notscruple；　even　on　that　day；　to　be　angry　at　the　Lord。　‘Me　and　the　Lord；’　he　had　often　said；　‘don’talways　get　along　so　well。　He　running　the　world　like　He　thinks　I　ain’t　got　good　sense。’　How　had　hedied？　Slow　or　sudden？　Had　he　cried　out？　Had　death　e　creeping　on　him　from　behind；　or　facedhim　like　a　man？　She　knew　nothing　about　it；　for　she　had　not　known　that　he　was　dead　until　longafterwards；　when　boys　were　ing　home　and　she　had　begun　searching　for　Frank’s　face　in　thestreets。　It　was　the　woman　with　whom　he　had　lived　who　had　told　her；　for　Frank　had　given　thiswoman’s　name　as　his　next…of…kin。　The　woman；　having　told　her；　had　not　known　what　else　to　say；and　she　stared　at　Florence　in　simple…minded　pity。　This　made　Florence　furious；　and　she　barelymurmured：　‘Thank　you；’　before　she　turned　away。　She　hated　Frank　for　making　this　woman　officialwitness　to　her　humiliation。　And　she　wondered　again　what　Frank　had　seen　in　this　woman；　who；though　she　was　younger　than　Florence；　had　never　been　so　pretty；　and　who　drank　all　the　time；　andwho　was　seen　with　many　men。
But　it　had　been　from　the　first　her　great　mistake—to　meet　him；　to　marry　him；　to　love　him　asshe　so　bitterly　had。　Looking　at　his　face；　it　sometimes　came　to　her　that　all　women　had　been　cursedfrom　the　cradle；　all；　in　one　fashion　or　another；　being　given　the　same　cruel　destiny；　born　to　sufferthe　weight　of　men。　Frank　claimed　that　she　got　it　all　wrong　side　up：　it　was　men　who　sufferedbecause　they　had　to　put　up　with　the　ways　of　women—and　this　from　the　time　that　they　were　bornuntil　the　day　they　died。　But　it　was　she　who　was　right；　she　knew；　with　Frank　she　had　always　beenright；　and　it　had　not　been　her　fault　that　Frank　was　the　way　he　was；　determined　to　live　and　die　amon　nigger。
But　he　was　always　swearing　that　he　would　do　better；　it　was；　perhaps；　the　brutality　of　hispenitence　that　had　kept　them　together　for　so　long。　There　was　something　in　her　which　loved　to　seehim　bow—when　he　came　home；　stinking　with　whisky；　and　crept　with　tears　into　her　arms。　Then　he；so　ultimately　master；　was　mastered。　And　holding　him　in　her　arms　while；　finally；　he　slept；　shethought　with　the　sensations　of　luxury　and　power：　‘But　there’s　a　lots　of　good　in　Frank。　I　just　got　tobe　patient　and　he’ll　e　along　all　right。’　To　‘e　along’　meant　that　he　would　change　his　waysand　consent　to　be　the　husband　she　had　traveled　so　far　to　find。　It　was　he　who；　unforgivably；　taughther　that　there　are　people　in　the　world　for　whom　‘ing　along’　is　a　perpetual　process；　people　whoare　destin