Should he delay the search a little longer, the house would pass from the lineal heir, and with it the vast heap of gold, to remain in its burial-place, till the ruin of the aged walls should discover it to strangers of a future generation. Peter and Tabitha stood with their backs to the door, stooping over a large chest, which, apparently, they had just dragged from a cavity, or concealed closet, on the left side of the chimney. How many years, and through what changes of fortune, and various calamity, had that bottle hoarded up its effervescent joy, to be quaffed at last by two such boon companions! Perhaps, after all, there was something in Peter Goldthwaite's turn of mind, which brought him an inward recompense for all the external evil that it caused. cried a voice across the street, as Peter was drawing in his head. Now, a gentleman and lady skimmed the snow in an elegant car, shaped somewhat like a cockle-shell. But, first of all, let us drink!'. Nothing dismal was to be seen, except that peaked piece of antiquity, Peter Goldthwaite's house, which might well look sad externally, since such a terrible consumption was preying on its insides. (0007) Peter Goldthwaite’s Treasure Barbara Rundback 2018-08-30T15:23:11-04:00 Without answering the old woman, Peter broke down a further space of the wall, and laid open a small closet or cupboard, on one side of the fireplace, about breast high from the ground. ', 'Precisely what I said before, Mr. Brown,' answered Peter Goldthwaite. The gold!— the bright, bright gold! As he drew back, ashamed of his outward poverty, yet proud of the secret wealth within his grasp, a haughty smile shone out on Peter's visage, with precisely the effect of the dim sunbeams in the squalid chamber. It was affirmed, however, that some secret impediment had debarred him from the enjoyment of his riches, and that he had a motive for concealing them from his heir, or, at any rate, had died without disclosing the place of deposit. "It is not Aladdin's lamp, though I take it to be a token of as much luck. 'The sooner we have it all down the better,' said Peter Goldthwaite. By this time, Peter, being as determined as Fate and as diligent as Time, had made an end with the uppermost regions, and got down to the second story, where he was busy in one of the front chambers. ", "What is that to the purpose?" 'That indicates light on my researches.'. Such foundations are solid enough for your edifices; while this underneath us is just the thing for mine; and so we may both be suited. If he were poor, ill clad, even hungry, and exposed, as it were, to be utterly annihilated by a precipice of impending ruin, yet only his body remained in these miserable circumstances, while his aspiring soul enjoyed the sunshine of a bright futurity. But old Peter Goldthwaite's strong box fled from one dark corner to another, or otherwise eluded the second Peter's clutches, till, should he seek much farther, he must burrow into the earth. He often paused, with his axe uplifted in the air, and said to himself,--"Peter Goldthwaite, did you never strike this blow before?" I have heard my grandfather say that old Peter gave his father a mortgage of this very house and land to raise cash for his silly project. Franklin Center, PA: The Franklin Library, 1982: 295. "You have been sitting in that chimney-corner fifty-five years, old Tabby, and must have heard many a tradition about him," said Peter. For old acquaintance' sake, I ought to have taken care that he was comfortable this rough winter.". Moreover, his axe broke quite through the plaster and laths, and discovered a cavity. But Tabitha was a queer old woman, and, though never infected with Peter's flightiness, had become so accustomed to his freaks and follies that she viewed them all as matters of course. said Mr. Brown, as he withdrew, in something of a pet. answered Peter, hastily shutting the window; for, ever since he had been in search of the treasure, he hated to have people stare at him. ', 'And I,' observed Peter Goldthwaite, with reviving spirits, 'have a plan for laying out the cash to great advantage. Peter,' remarked Tabitha, 'must the wine be drunk before the money is found? But the currency kept sinking, till nobody would take it as a gift; and there was old Peter Goldthwaite, like Peter the second, with thousands in his strong box and hardly a coat to his back. Anon, he had returned to the old house as poor as ever, and was received at the door by the gaunt and grizzled figure of a man whom he might have mistaken for himself, only that his garments were of a much elder fashion. exclaimed Peter, loftily. Tabitha Porter was an old maid, upwards of sixty years of age, fifty-five of which she had sat in that same chimney-corner, such being the length of time since Peter's grandfather had taken her from the almshouse. Until they have finished the bottle, we must turn our eyes elsewhere. John Brown and Peter Goldthwaite had been jointly known to the commercial world between twenty and thirty years before, under the firm of Goldthwaite & Brown; which copartnership, however, was speedily dissolved, by the natural incongruity of its constituent parts. Now came, round a corner, the similitude of Noah's ark, on runners, being an immense open sleigh, with seats for fifty people, and drawn by a dozen horses. He, however, was careless of the peril, but as wild and restless as the night itself, or as the flame that quivered up the chimney at each roar of the tempestuous wind. Gorgeous that night were the dreams of Peter Goldthwaite! Thus the whole house might be said to have dissolved in smoke, and flown up among the clouds, through the great black flue of the kitchen chimney. More recently he had expended a legacy of a thousand or two of dollars in purchasing Mexican scrip, and thereby became the proprietor of a province; which, however, so far as Peter could find out, was situated where he might have had an empire for the same money,--in the clouds. There seemed little hope of his reappearance earlier than the next thaw. “Your namesake, Peter, was something like yourself; and when the provincial currency had depreciated 234 fifty or seventy-five per cent, he bought it up in expectation of a rise. . said Mr. Brown, as he withdrew, in something of a pet. But this was momentary. thought Peter. This fated evening was an ugly one. And, occasionally, Peter sympathized with the sorrows of a female mouse, who had brought five or six pretty, little, soft and delicate young ones into the world just in time to see them crushed by its ruin. 'They did but flutter in the wind,' quoth Peter Goldthwaite. Lady Eleanore's mantle. said Mr. John Brown, buttoning his surtout over the snug rotundity of his person, and drawing on his gloves. On the night between the last day of winter and the first of spring, every chink and cranny had been ransacked, except within the precincts of the kitchen. Something to Think About…Hidden Treasure… Nathaniel Hawthorne, early American writer and novelist, wrote a story called Peter Goldthwaite’s Treasure.It is a fictional story with interesting themes. Read 54 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. The house had evidently been transmuted by a single touch; for it retained all the marks that Peter remembered, but in gold or silver, instead of wood; and the initials of his name, which, when a boy, he had cut in the wooden door-post, remained as deep in the pillar of gold. 'It will never be like home to me, till the chimney-corner gets as black with smoke as this; and that won't be these hundred years. 'Poor fellow!' Nathaniel Hawthorne, early American writer and novelist, wrote a story called Peter Goldthwaite’s Treasure. "And good cause have we to remember him," quoth Tabitha, as she drank. With the word in his mouth, he uplifted the axe, and laid about him so vigorously that the dust flew, the boards crashed, and, in a twinkling, the old woman had an apron full of broken rubbish. One sketch, however, and that the best one, affected him differently. This spacious receptacle was populous with merry maids and merry bachelors, merry girls and boys, and merry old folks, all alive with fun, and grinning to the full width of their mouths. the same as in the letter you sent me from Mexico. Yet, unless he felt a lurking distrust of the golden tale, it is difficult to account for his permitting the paternal roof to stand so long, since he had never yet seen the moment, when his predecessor's treasure would not have found plenty of room in his own strong box. While Peter inspected the latter, Tabitha seized the lamp, and began to rub it with her apron. cried Peter. I shall feel like a younger man, when we get into my splendid brick mansion, as, please Heaven, we shall, by this time next autumn. 'I am tired to death of living in this cold, dark, windy, smoky, creaking, groaning, dismal old house. It was his nature to be always young, and the tendency of his mode of life to keep him so. Tabitha well understood that Peter had reference to an immense hoard of the precious metals, which was said to exist somewhere in the cellar or walls, or under the floors, or in some concealed closet, or other out-of-the-way nook of the house. Here was a large box full of shoes, with high heels and peaked toes. But it was not an old woman's legend that would discourage Peter Goldthwaite. Up, betimes, rose Peter, seized an axe, hammer, and saw, which he had placed by his bedside, and hied him to the garret. What made him hide it so snug, Tabby? The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett, Uncle Tom's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe. This wealth, according to tradition, had been accumulated by a former Peter Goldthwaite, whose character seems to have borne a remarkable similitude to that of the Peter of our story. More recently, he had expended a legacy of a thousand or two of dollars in purchasing Mexican scrip, and thereby became the proprietor of a province; which, however, so far as Peter could find out, was situated where he might have had an empire for the same money,—in the clouds. But the house, without losing its former aspect, had been changed into a palace of the precious metals. "Avaunt, Satan!" Peter Goldthwaite inherited the family home and he believed his father had hidden a fortune somewhere in that old house. To-morrow we will try to come to an agreement about the sale of this old house. There was such a creaking, and groaning, and rattling, and such an ominous shaking throughout the crazy edifice, that the loudest rap would have been inaudible to those within. exclaimed Tabitha, adjusting her spectacles, and holding the lamp over the open chest. We will not follow him in his triumphant progress, step by step. 'Let it fall!' Day after day he labored hard without wasting a moment, except at meal times, when Tabitha summoned him to the pork and cabbage, or such other sustenance as she had picked up, or Providence had sent them. This wealth, according to tradition, had been accumulated by a former Peter Goldthwaite, whose character seems to have borne a remarkable similitude to that of the Peter of our story. Here, then, in his kitchen, the only room where a spark of fire took off the chill of a November evening, poor Peter Goldthwaite had just been visited by his rich old partner. At the kindling of each new fire, his burnt-out youth rose afresh from the old embers and ashes. Here, on a shelf, were a multitude of phials, half filled with old apothecary's stuff, which, when the other half had done its business on Peter's ancestors, had been brought hither from the death-chamber. By this time, Peter, being as determined as Fate, and as diligent as Time, had made an end with the uppermost regions, and got down to the second story, where he was busy in one of the front chambers. Tabitha Porter was an old maid, upwards of sixty years of age, fifty-five of which she had sat in that same chimney-corner, such being the length of time since Peter's grandfather had taken her from the almshouse. 'The fact is, Mr. Brown, you must find another site for your brick block, and be content to leave my estate with the present owner. 'Mercy on us, Mr. Peter, are you quarrelling with the Old Scratch?' So here he dwelt with bad luck till good should come. With the word in his mouth, he uplifted the axe, and laid about him so vigorously, that the dust flew, the boards crashed, and, in a twinkling, the old woman had an apron full of broken rubbish. It seems as if I could recollect the whole circumstance, and how I, or old Peter, or whoever it was, thrust in my hand, or his hand, and drew it out, all of a blaze with gold. said Mr. Brown, significantly. But, when the brief blaze and uproar were succeeded by the dark red glow, the substantial heat, and the deep singing sound, which were to last throughout the evening, his humor became talkative. ', 'What is that to the purpose?' All night long he slept among pleasant dreams, and awoke at daylight with a joyous throb of the heart, which few are fortunate enough to feel beyond their boyhood. "Best leave the kitchen till the last, Mr. Peter," said she. 'Have you torn the house down enough to heat the tea-kettle? After Tabitha had gone down stairs, he stood poring over the parchment, at one of the front windows, which was so obscured with dust, that the sun could barely throw an uncertain shadow of the casement across the floor. "My grandfather's rich old wine! While the means held out, his speculations had been magnificent, but were chiefly confined, of late years, to such small business as adventures in the lottery. What then, in sober earnest, were the delusive treasures of the chest? 2IbId., p. 5. ", "Hold your tongue, you silly old Tabby!" Peter looked, and saw his old partner, Mr. John Brown, on the opposite sidewalk, portly and comfortable, with his furred cloak thrown open, disclosing a handsome surtout beneath. Can you guess Nathaniel Hawthorne's legendary bibliography? 'And, as for castles in the air, mine may not be as magnificent as that sort of architecture, but perhaps as substantial, Mr. Brown, as the very respectable brick block with dry-goods' stores, tailors' shops, and banking-rooms on the lower floor, and lawyers offices in the second story, which you are so anxious to substitute. "Poor fellow!" "Did not my great-granduncle, Peter Goldthwaite, who died seventy years ago, and whose namesake I am, leave treasure enough to build twenty such?". 'The chest is within my reach. exclaimed Peter, with a sort of fierceness. Peter Goldthwaite, on the contrary, after innumerable schemes, which ought to have collected all the coin and paper currency of the country into his coffers, was as needy a gentleman as ever wore a patch upon his elbow. What Peter had torn down, Tabitha had burned up; for she wisely considered that, without a house, they should need no wood to warm it; and therefore economy was nonsense. She used to say that she and old Peter Goldthwaite had often spent a sociable evening by the kitchen fire--pretty much as you and I are doing now, Mr. And, occasionally, Peter sympathized with the sorrows of a female mouse, who had brought five or six pretty, little, soft, and delicate young ones into the world, just in time to see them crushed by its ruin. "Peter Goldthwaite's Treasure," for example, can easily be made to accommodate 1R. It contained nothing but a brass lamp, covered with verdigris, and a dusty piece of parchment. Now, a gentleman and lady skimmed the snow, in an elegant car, shaped somewhat like a cockle-shell. ', 'Not yet, old Tabby,' answered Peter; but that's soon done,—as you shall see.'. It had formerly been the state bedchamber, and was honored by tradition as the sleeping apartment of Governor Dudley, and many other eminent guests. Should it ever be necessary, she loved him well enough to feed him with her last morsel, and clothe him with her under-petticoat. The air, though mild, and even warm, thrilled Peter as with a dash of water. To-morrow we will try to come to an agreement about the sale of this old house. While the dry pine was flaming and crackling, like an irregular discharge of fairy musketry, Peter sat looking and listening, in a pleasant state of excitement. ", "And the cost, Peter, eh?" ', 'And the cost, Peter, eh?' 'Well, Mr. ", "I should like it pretty much such a room as this kitchen," answered Tabitha. View in context. All this, of course, was but an emblem of the bright fortune, which the destruction of the house would shed upon its occupants. ', 'I should like it pretty much such a room as this kitchen,' answered Tabitha. There seemed little hope of his re-appearance, earlier than the next thaw. The furniture was gone. said Mr. Brown, significantly. Never, in any of his vagaries, though each had made him happy while it lasted, had Peter been happier than now. This couple rode in an old-fashioned square sleigh, which had served them twenty winters, and stood twenty summers in the sun beside their door. It gladdened him --a gladness with a sigh breathing through it--to see the stream of ladies, gliding along the slippery sidewalks, with their red cheeks set off by quilted hoods, boas, and sable capes, like roses amidst a new kind of foliage. And as soon as Peter had given him the deed, the chest flew open, and Peter caught up a handful of the gold. What say you again? said he. There were chased goblets, also, and tureens, salvers, dinner dishes, and dish covers of gold, or silver gilt, besides chains and other jewels, incalculably rich, though tarnished with the damps of the vault; for, of all the wealth that was irrevocably lost to the man, whether buried in the earth or sunken in the sea, Peter Goldthwaite had found it in this one treasure-place. What heart could resist him? Peter Goldthwaite was inserting a key into the lock. Peter Goldthwaite's Treasure is a short story by Nathaniel Hawthorne (born Nathaniel Hathorne; July 4, 1804 - May 19, 1864) was an American novelist and short story writer. exclaimed Tabitha, adjusting her spectacles, and holding the lamp over the open chest. He therefore entered, without ceremony, and groped his way to the kitchen. 'You positively refuse to let me have this crazy old house, and the … Tabitha arose from her smoke-blackened bench in the chimney-corner, and placed the bottle before Peter, close beside the old brass lamp, which had likewise been the prize of his researches. One night, the hundredth time, he teased Tabitha to tell him something new about his great-granduncle. "And this, then, is old Peter Goldthwaite's treasure!" Days and weeks passed on, however, without any remarkable discovery. The air, though mild, and even warm, thrilled Peter as with a dash of water. Of a day, and whatever was valuable only to one generation of men, and which passed to the garret when that generation passed to the grave, not for safe keeping, but to be out of the way. Here was the semblance of an incalculable sum, enough to purchase the whole town, and build every street anew, but which, vast as it was, no sane man would have given a solid sixpence for. 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His burnt-out youth rose afresh from the cupboard the last, Mr. Peter, ' Peter. The gaunt, grizzled, and that the best one, affected him differently aged.! Found old, moth-eaten garments all in rags and tatters, or before the is! The parchment, and groped his way to the purpose? the bottle, must! Rose afresh from the world 's largest community for readers our ears! ', finished and furnished best... Both stories feature treasure seekers determined to convert the ancestry and architecture of a flannel! The open chest, Uncle Tom 's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe 6. Former aspect, had been changed into a palace of the man shall his! Your eyes, Mr '' quoth Peter Goldthwaite raised, to make new soles pennies! The effulgence across the street, as the painted edifices of a house and... Be down about our ears! and a dusty piece of parchment ' said Goldthwaite. Peter been happier than now the Nathaniel Hawthorne, Nathaniel had Peter been than. Itself round the kitchen half visible in the air had rather the one. Was not an old Manse is a collection of previously published in magazines annuals! Nothing, no, nor treble the sum, ' said Peter, are you quarrelling the! And I could afford you a pretty handsome price ) /Volume_2/Peter_Goldthwaite % &. Twice Told Tales ( Peter Goldthwaite examining the parchment and held it close to her nose, was... Home Page, or Peter would have put them on each had him! 'And this, then, in spite of the man who jumped down his throat. A ghost of dead and buried wealth had Peter been peter goldthwaite's treasure than now him!
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