It was the first day of the January thaw. The snow lay deep uponthe house-tops, but was rapidly dissolving into millions ofwater-drops, which sparkled downwards through the sunshine, with thenoise of a summer shower beneath the eaves. Along the street, thetrodden snow was as hard and solid as a pavement of white marble,and had not yet grown moist in the spring-like temperature. But whenPeter thrust forth his head, he saw that the inhabitants, if not thetown, were already thawed out by this warm day, after two or threeweeks of winter weather. It gladdened him- a gladness with a sighbreathing through it- to see the stream of ladies, gliding along theslippery sidewalks, with their red cheeks set off by quilted hoods,boas, and sable capes, like roses amidst a new kind of foliage. Thesleigh-bells jingled to and fro continually: sometimes announcingthe arrival of a sleigh from Vermont, laden with the frozen bodiesof porkers, or sheep, and perhaps a deer or two; sometimes of aregular market-man, with chickens, geese, and turkeys, comprisingthe whole colony of a barn-yard; and sometimes of a farmer and hisdame, who had come to town partly for the ride, partly to goa-shopping, and partly for the sale of some eggs and butter. Thiscouple rode in an old-fashioned square sleigh, which had served themtwenty winters, and stood twenty summers in the sun beside their door.
Now, a gentleman and lady skimmed the snow in an elegant car, shapedsomewhat like a cockle-shell. Now, a stage-sleigh, with its clothcurtains thrust aside to admit the sun, dashed rapidly down thestreet, whirling in and out among the vehicles that obstructed itspassage. Now came, round a corner, the similitude of Noah's ark onrunners, being an immense open sleigh with seats for fifty people, anddrawn by a dozen horses. This spacious receptacle was populous withmerry maids and merry bachelors, merry girls and boys, and merry oldfolks, all alive with fun, and grinning to the full width of theirmouths. They kept up a buzz of babbling voices and low laughter, andsometimes burst into a deep, joyous shout, which the spectatorsanswered with three cheers, while a gang of roguish boys let drivetheir snowballs right among the pleasure party. The sleigh passedon, and, when concealed by a bend of the street, was still audibleby a distant cry of merriment.
Never had Peter beheld a livelier scene than was constituted by allthese accessories: the bright sun, the flashing water-drops, thegleaming snow, the cheerful multitude, the variety of rapidvehicles, and the jingle-jangle of merry bells which made the heartdance to their music. Nothing dismal was to be seen, except thatpeaked piece of antiquity, Peter Goldthwaite's house, which might welllook sad externally, since such a terrible consumption was preyingon its in- sides. And Peter's gaunt figure, half visible in theprojecting second story, was worthy of his house.
"Peter! How goes it, friend Peter?" cried a voice across thestreet, as Peter was drawing in his head. "Look out here, Peter!"Peter looked, and saw his old partner, Mr. John Brown, on theopposite sidewalk, portly and comfortable, with his furred cloakthrown open, disclosing a handsome surtout beneath. His voice haddirected the attention of the whole town to Peter Goldthwaite'swindow, and to the dusty scarecrow which appeared at it.
"I say, Peter," cried Mr. Brown again, "what the devil are youabout there, I hear such a racket whenever I pass by? You arerepairing the old house, I suppose- making a new one of it- eh?""Too late for that, I am afraid, Mr. Brown," replied Peter. "If Imake it new, it will be new inside and out, from the cellar upwards.""Had not you better let me take the job?" said Mr. Brown,significantly.
"Not yet!" answered Peter, hastily shutting the window; for, eversince he had been in search of the treasure, he hated to have peoplestare at him.
As he drew back, ashamed of his outward poverty, yet proud of thesecret wealth within his grasp, a haughty smile shone out on Peter'svisage, with precisely the effect of the dim sunbeams in the squalidchamber. He endeavored to assume such a mien as his ancestor hadprobably worn, when he gloried in the building of a strong house for ahome to many generations of his posterity. But the chamber was verydark to his snow-dazzled eyes, and very dismal too, in contrast withthe living scene that he had just looked upon. His brief glimpseinto the street had given him a forcible impression of the manner inwhich the world kept itself cheerful and prosperous, by socialpleasures and an intercourse of business, while he, in seclusion,was pursuing an object that might possibly be a phantasm, by amethod which most people would call madness. It is one great advantageof a gregarious mode of life that each person rectifies his mind byother minds, and squares his conduct to that of his neighbors, so asseldom to be lost in eccentricity. Peter Goldthwaite had exposedhimself to this influence by merely looking out of the window. For awhile, he doubted whether there were any hidden chest of gold, and, inthat case, whether he was so exceedingly wise to tear the housedown, only to be convinced of its non-existence.
