Prefatory Materials

This is a modified etext created by GutenMark software.   Any comments below about etext preparation refer to the original, and not to this modified version of the etext.  No individuals named below bear responsibility for changes to the text.

Project Gutenberg EBook Beneath An Umbrella, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
From “Twice Told Tales”
#43 in our series by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Copyright laws are changing all over the world.  Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.

This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.

Please read the “legal small print,” and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.

**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****

Title:  Beneath An Umbrella (From “Twice Told Tales”)

Author:  Nathaniel Hawthorne

Release Date:  Nov, 2005 [EBook #9216] [This file was first posted on August 31, 2003] [Last updated on February 5, 2007]

Edition:  10

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

*** START of the Project gutenberg EBOOK, beneath and umbrella ***

This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]

TwiceTold Tales

NIGHT SKETCHES

Beneathan umbrella

By Nathaniel Hawthorne

Pleasant is a rainy winter’s day, within doors!  The best study for such a day, or the best amusement,—call it which you will,—is a book of travels, describing scenes the most unlike that sombre one, which is mistily presented through the windows.  I have experienced, that fancy is then most successful in imparting distinct shapes and vivid colors to the objects which the author has spread upon his page, and that his words become magic spells to summon up a thousand varied pictures.  Strange landscapes glimmer through the familiar walls of the room, and outlandish figures thrust themselves almost within the sacred precincts of the hearth.  Small as my chamber is, it has space enough to contain the ocean-like circumference of an Arabian desert, its parched sands tracked by the long line of a caravan, with the camels patiently journeying through the heavy sunshine.  Though my ceiling be not lofty, yet I can pile up the mountains of Central Asia beneath it, till their summits shine far above the clouds of the middle atmosphere.  And, with my humble means, a wealth that is not taxable, I can transport hither the magnificent merchandise of an Oriental bazaar, and call a crowd of purchasers from distant countries, to pay a fair profit for the precious articles which are displayed on all sides.  True it is, however, that amid the bustle of traffic, or whatever else may seem to be going on around me, the rain-drops will occasionally be heard to patter against my window-panes, which look forth upon one of the quietest streets in a New England town.  After a time, too, the visions vanish, and will not appear again at my bidding.  Then, it being nightfall, a gloomy sense of unreality depresses my spirits, and impels me to venture out, before the clock shall strike bedtime, to satisfy myself that the world is not entirely made up of such shadowy materials, as have busied me throughout the day.  A dreamer may dwell so long among fantasies, that the things without him will seem as unreal as those within.

When eve has fairly set in, therefore, I sally forth, tightly buttoning my shaggy overcoat, and hoisting my umbrella, the silken dome of which immediately resounds with the heavy drumming of the invisible rain-drops.  Pausing on the lowest doorstep, I contrast the warmth and cheerfulness of my deserted fireside with the drear obscurity and chill discomfort into which I am about to plunge.  Now come fearful auguries, innumerable as the drops of rain.  Did not my manhood cry shame upon me, I should turn back within doors, resume my elbow-chair, my slippers, and my book, pass such an evening of sluggish enjoyment as the day has been, and go to bed inglorious.  The same shivering reluctance, no doubt, has quelled, for a moment, the adventurous spirit of many a traveller, when his feet, which were destined to measure the earth around, were leaving their last tracks in the home-paths.

In my own case, poor human nature may be allowed a few misgivings.  I look upward, and discern no sky, not even an unfathomable void, but only a black, impenetrable nothingness, as though heaven and all its lights were blotted from the system of the universe.  It is as if nature were dead, and the world had put on black, and the clouds were weeping for her.  With their tears upon my cheek, I turn my eyes earthward, but find little consolation here below.  A lamp is burning dimly at the distant corner, and throws just enough of light along the street, to show, and exaggerate by so faintly showing, the perils and difficulties which beset my path.  Yonder dingily white remnant of a huge snow-bank,—which will yet cumber the sidewalk till the latter days of March,—over or through that wintry waste must I stride onward.  Beyond, lies a certain Slough of Despond, a concoction of mud and liquid filth, ankle-deep, leg-deep, neck-deep,—in a word, of unknown bottom, on which the lamplight does not even glimmer, but which I have occasionally watched, in the gradual growth of its horrors, from morn till nightfall.  Should I flounder into its depths, farewell to upper earth!  And hark! how roughly resounds the roaring of a stream, the turbulent career of which is partially reddened by the gleam of the lamp, but elsewhere brawls noisily through the densest gloom.  O, should I be swept away in fording that impetuous and unclean torrent, the coroner will have a job with an unfortunate gentleman, who would fain end his troubles anywhere but in a mud-puddle!

Pshaw!  I will linger not another instant at arm’s length from these dim terrors, which grow more obscurely formidable, the longer I delay to grapple with them.  Now for the onset!  And to! with little damage, save a dash of rain in the fact and breast, a splash of mud high up the pantaloons, and the left boot full of ice-cold water, behold me at the corner of the street.  The lamp throws down a circle of red light around me; and twinkling onward from corner to corner, I discern other beacons marshalling my way to a brighter scene.  But this is alone some and dreary spot.  The tall edifices bid gloomy defiance to the storm, with their blinds all closed, even as a man winks when he faces a spattering gust.  How loudly tinkles the collected rain down the tin spouts!  The puffs of wind are boisterous, and seem to assail me from various quarters at once.  I have often observed that this corner is a haunt and loitering-place for those winds which have no work to do upon the deep, dashing ships against our iron-bound shores; nor in the forest, tearing up the sylvan giants with half a rood of soil at their vast roots.  Here they amuse themselves with lesser freaks of mischief.  See, at this moment, how they assail yonder poor woman, who is passing just within the verge of the lamplight!  One blast struggles for her umbrella, and turns it wrong side outward; another whisks the cape of her cloak across her eyes; while a third takes most unwarrantable liberties with the lower part of her attire.  Happily, the good dame is no gossamer, but a figure of rotundity and fleshly substance; else would these aerial tormentors whirl her aloft, like a witch upon a broomstick, and set her down, doubtless, in the filthiest kennel hereabout.

From hence I tread upon firm pavements into the centre of the town.  Here there is almost as brilliant an illumination as when some great victory has been won, either on the battle-field or at the polls.  Two rows of shops, with windows down nearly to the ground, cast a glow from side to side, while the black night hangs overhead like a canopy, and thus keeps the splendor from diffusing itself away.  The wet sidewalks gleam with a broad sheet of red light.  The rain-drops glitter, as if the sky were pouring down rubies.  The spouts gush with fire.  Methinks the scene is an emblem of the deceptive glare, which mortals throw around their footsteps in the moral world, thus bedazzling themselves, till they forget the impenetrable obscurity that hems them in, and that can be dispelled only by radiance from above.  And after all, it is a cheerless scene, and cheerless are the wanderers in it.  Here comes one who has so long been familiar with tempestuous weather that he takes the bluster of the storm for a friendly greeting, as if it should say, “How fare ye, brother?” He is a retired sea-captain, wrapped in some nameless garment of the pea-jacket order, and is now laying his course towards the Marine Insurance Office, there to spin yarns of gale and shipwreck, with a crew of old seadogs like himself.  The blast will put in its word among their hoarse voices, and be understood by all of them.  Next I meet an unhappy slipshod gentleman, with a cloak flung hastily over his shoulders, running a race with boisterous winds, and striving to glide between the drops of rain.  Some domestic emergency or other has blown this miserable man from his warm fireside in quest of a doctor!  See that little vagabond,—how carelessly he has taken his stand right underneath a spout, while staring at some object of curiosity in a shop-window!  Surely the rain is his native element; he must have fallen with it from the clouds, as frogs are supposed to do.

Here is a picture, and a pretty one.  A young man and a girl, both enveloped in cloaks, and huddled beneath the scanty protection of a cotton umbrella.  She wears rubber overshoes; but he is in his dancing-pumps; and they are on their way, no doubt, to sonic cotillon-party, or subscription-ball at a dollar a head, refreshments included.  Thus they struggle against the gloomy tempest, lured onward by a vision of festal splendor.  But, ah! a most lamentable disaster.  Bewildered by the red, blue, and yellow meteors, in an apothecary’s window, they have stepped upon a slippery remnant of ice, and are precipitated into a confluence of swollen floods, at the corner of two streets.  Luckless lovers!  Were it my nature to be other than a looker-on in life, I would attempt your rescue.  Since that may not be, I vow, should you be drowned, to weave such a pathetic story of your fate, as shall call forth tears enough to drown you both anew.  Do ye touch bottom, my young friends?  Yes; they emerge like a water-nymph and a river deity, and paddle hand in hand out of the depths of the dark pool.  They hurry homeward, dripping, disconsolate, abashed, but with love too warm to be chilled by the cold water.  They have stood a test which proves too strong for many.  Faithful, though over head and ears in trouble!

Onward I go, deriving a sympathetic joy or sorrow from the varied aspect of mortal affairs, even as my figure catches a gleam from the lighted windows, or is blackened by an interval of darkness.  Not that mine is altogether a chameleon spirit, with no hue of its own.  Now I pass into a more retired street, where the dwellings of wealth and poverty are intermingled, presenting a range of strongly contrasted pictures.  Here, too, may be found the golden mean.  Through yonder casement I discern a family circle,—the grandmother, the parents, and the children,—all flickering, shadow-like, in the glow of a wood-fire.  Bluster, fierce blast, and beat, thou wintry rain, against the window-panes!  Ye cannot damp the enjoyment of that fireside.  Surely my fate is hard, that I should be wandering homeless here, taking to my bosom night, and storm, and solitude, instead of wife and children.  Peace, murmurer!  Doubt not that darker guests are sitting round the hearth, though the warm blaze hides all but blissful images.  Well; here is still a brighter scene.  A stately mansion, illuminated for a ball, with cut-glass chandeliers and alabaster lamps in every room, and sunny landscapes hanging round the walls.  See! a coach has stopped, whence emerges a slender beauty, who, canopied by two umbrellas, glides within the portal, and vanishes amid lightsome thrills of music.  Will she ever feel the night-wind and the rain?  Perhaps,—perhaps!  And will Death and Sorrow ever enter that proud mansion?  As surely as the dancers will be gay within its halls to-night.  Such thoughts sadden, yet satisfy my heart; for they teach me that the poor man, in his mean, weather-beaten hovel, without a fire to cheer him, may call the rich his brother, brethren by Sorrow, who must be an inmate of both their households,—brethren by Death, who will lead them, both to other homes.

Onward, still onward, I plunge into the night.  Now have I reached the utmost limits of the town, where the last lamp struggles feebly with the darkness, like the farthest star that stands sentinel on the borders of uncreated space.  It is strange what sensations of sublimity may spring from a very humble source.  Such are suggested by this hollow roar of a subterranean cataract, where the mighty stream of a kennel precipitates itself beneath an iron grate, and is seen no more on earth.  Listen awhile to its voice of mystery; and fancy will magnify it, till you start and smile at the illusion.  And now another sound,—the rumbling of wheels,—as the mail-coach, outward bound, rolls heavily off the pavements, and splashes through the mud and water of the road.  All night long, the poor passengers will be tossed to and fro between drowsy watch and troubled sleep, and will dream of their own quiet beds, and awake to find themselves still jolting onward.  Happier my lot, who will straightway hie me to my familiar room, and toast myself comfortably before the fire, musing, and fitfully dozing, and fancying a strangeness in such sights as all may see.  But first let me gaze at this solitary figure, who comes hitherward with a tin lantern, which throws the circular pattern of its punched holes on the ground about him.  He passes fearlessly into the unknown gloom, whither I will not follow him.

This figure shall supply me with a moral, wherewith, for lack of a more appropriate one, I may wind up my sketch.  He fears not to tread the dreary path before him, because his lantern, which was kindled at the fireside of his home, will light him back to that same fireside again.  And thus we, night-wanderers through a stormy and dismal world, if we bear the lamp of Faith, enkindled at a celestial fire, it will surely lead us home to that Heaven whence its radiance was borrowed.

*** END of the Project gutenberg EBOOK, beneath an umbrella *** By Nathaniel Hawthorne

***** This file should be named haw4310.txt or haw4310.zip ****

Corrected editions of our etexts get a new number, haw4311.txt VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, haw4310a.txt

This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the us unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.  Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, even years after the official publication date.

Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.  The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment and editing by those who wish to do so.

Most people start at our Web sites at:  http://gutenberg.net or http://promo.net/pg

These Web sites include award-winning information about Project Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).

Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.

http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03

Or etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90

Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, as it appears in our Newsletters.

Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)

We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  Our projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 If they reach just 1-2% of the world’s population then the total will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year’s end.

The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!  This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.

Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):

eBooks Year Month

1 1971 July
10 1991 January
100 1994 January
1000 1997 August
1500 1998 October
2000 1999 December
2500 2000 December
3000 2001 November
4000 2001 October/November
6000 2002 December*
9000 2003 November*
10000 2004 January*

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.

We need your donations more than ever!

As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people and organizations in:  Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.

We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones that have responded.

As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.  Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.

In answer to various questions we have received on this:

We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, just ask.

While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to donate.

International donations are accepted, but we don’t know ANYTHING about how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they can be made deductible, and don’t have the staff to handle it even if there are ways.

Donations by check or money order may be sent to:

Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment method other than by check or money order.

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by the us Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.

We need your donations more than ever!

You can get up to date donation information online at:

http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html

***

If you can’t reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:

Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com

Prof.  Hart will answer or forward your message.

We would prefer to send you information by email.

**The Legal Small Print**

(Three Pages)

***START**the small print!**FOR public domain EBOOKS**start*** Why is this “Small Print!” statement here?  You know:  lawyers.  They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from someone other than us, and even if what’s wrong is not our fault.  So, among other things, this “Small Print!” statement disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.

BEFORE! You use or read this EBOOK By using or reading any part of this Project gutenberg-tm eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept this “Small Print!” statement.  If you do not, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person you got it from.  If you received this eBook on a physical medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.

ABOUT Project gutenberg-tm EBOOKS This Project gutenberg-tm eBook, like most Project gutenberg-tm eBooks, is a “public domain” work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association (the “Project").  Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook under the “Project gutenberg” trademark.

Please do not use the “Project gutenberg” trademark to market any commercial products without permission.

To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain works.  Despite these efforts, the Project’s eBooks and any medium they may be on may contain “Defects”.  Among other things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER of damages But for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described below, [1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may receive this eBook from as a Project gutenberg-tm eBook) disclaims all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees, and [2] you have no REMEDIES for NEGLIGENCE or under STRICT liability, or for BREACH of WARRANTY or CONTRACT, including but not LIMITED to INDIRECT, consequential, PUNITIVE or INCIDENTAL damages, even if you give notice of the POSSIBILITY of such damages.

If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that time to the person you received it from.  If you received it on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to receive it electronically.

This EBOOK is OTHERWISE PROVIDED to you “As-is”.  NO other warranties of any KIND, express or implied, are made to you as to the EBOOK or any medium it may be on, including but not LIMITED to warranties of MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS for A particular PURPOSE.

Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you may have other legal rights.

INDEMNITY You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook, [2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, or [3] any Defect.

DISTRIBUTION under “Project gutenberg-tm” You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this “Small Print!” and all other references to Project Gutenberg, or:

[1] Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this “small print!” statement.  You may however,
if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
including any form resulting from conversion by word
processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
EITHER:

[*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
does not contain characters other than those
intended by the author of the work, although tilde
(~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
be used to convey punctuation intended by the
author, and additional characters may be used to
indicate hypertext links; or

[*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
the case, for instance, with most word processors);
or

[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
or other equivalent proprietary form).

[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
“Small Print!” statement.

[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
don’t derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
payable to “Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation”
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
let us know your plans and to work out the details.

WHAT if you WANT to send money even if you don’t have to?  Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine readable form.

The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
“Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:  hart@pobox.com

[Portions of this eBook’s header and trailer may be reprinted only when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be they hardware or software or any other related product without express permission.]

END THE SMALL PRINT!  FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKSVer.02/11/02*END*