large/4379/acres_of_diamonds_1008_librivox_64kb_mp3/acresofdiamonds_05_conwell_64kb_36
large/4379/acres_of_diamonds_1008_librivox_64kb_mp3/acresofdiamonds_05_conwell_64kb
English
4379
"Why does grandmother cry so often?" he remembers asking when he was a little boy. And he was told that it was for the husband of her youth. We went back into the little house, and he showed me the room in which he first saw John Brown. WHY DOES GRANDMOTHER CRY SO OFTEN HE REMEMBERS ASKING WHEN HE WAS A LITTLE BOY AND HE WAS TOLD IT WAS FOR THE HUSBAND OF HER YOUTH WE WENT BACK INTO THE LITTLE HOUSE AND HE SHOWED ME THE ROOM IN WHICH HE FIRST SAW JOHN BROWN
-roofed cottage in the eastern Berkshires, in Massachusetts. “I was born in this room,” he said to me, simply, as we sat together recently [3] in front of the old fireplace in the principal room of the little cottage; for he has bought back the rocky farm of his father, and has retained and restored the little old home. “I was born in this room. It was bedroom and kitchen. It was poverty.” And his voice sank with a kind of grimness into silence. Then he spoke a little of the struggles of those long-past years; and we went out on the porch, as the evening shadows fell, and looked out over the valley and stream and hills of his youth, and he told of his grandmother, and of a young Marylander who had come to the region on a visit; it was a tale of the impetuous love of those two, of rash marriage, of the interference of parents, of the fierce rivalry of another suitor, of an attack on the Marylander’s life, of passionate hastiness, of unforgivable words, of separation, of lifelong sorrow. THREE BORN OF POOR PARENTS IN A LOW ROOFED COTTAGE IN THE EASTERN BERKSHIRES IN MASSACHUSETTS I WAS BORN IN THIS ROOM HE SAID TO ME SIMPLY AS WE SAT TOGETHER RECENTLY IN FRONT OF THE OLD FIREPLACE IN THE PRINCIPAL ROOM OF THE LITTLE COTTAGE FOR HE HAS BROUGHT BACK THE ROCKY FARM OF HIS FATHER AND HAS RETAINED AND RESTORED THE LITTLE OLD HOME I WAS BORN IN THIS ROOM IT WAS BEDROOM AND KITCHEN IT WAS POVERTY AND HIS VOICE SANK WITH A KIND OF GRIMNESS INTO SILENCE THEN HE SPOKE A LITTLE OF THE STRUGGLES OF THOSE LONG PAST YEARS AND WE WENT OUT TO THE PORCH AS THE EVENING SHADOW FELL HE LOOKED OUT OVER THE VALLEY AND STREAM AND HILLS OF HIS YOUTH AND HE TOLD OF HIS GRANDMOTHER AND OF A YOUNG MARYLANDER WHO HAD COME TO THE REGION ON A VISIT WAS THE TALE OF THE IMPETUOUS LOVE OF THOSE TWO OF RASH MARRIAGE OF THE INTERFERENCE OF PARENTS OF THE FIERCE RIVALRY OF ANOTHER SUITOR OF AN ATTACK ON THE MARYLANDER'S LIFE OF PASSIONATE HASTINESS AND UNFORGIVABLE WORDS OF SEPARATION OF LIFE LONG SORROW
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