Short Stories
The Hunchback (1878)
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A boy older than his appearance would indicate was sitting sullenly alone in the woods by the side of a stream. The water was clear and cool, flowers were blooming among the grass, the sky was blue, a gentle air was stirring. The day was heavenly, a calm and holy beauty pervaded all nature except the heart of this unfortunate boy.
And yet he deserved some communication, for he seemed to be deformed. An elaborate contrivance of straps and buckles passed around his shoulders, which appeared to be hunched in a peculiar fashion. Years ago, when a lovely child with a face and temper like an angels his parents, worthy people, had discovered that there was something strange and unusual in his appearance totally unlike that of other children. They were decent folk, and nothing had happened in their family for many generations out of the usual course. All the men were straight and tall, married comely and excellent housewives, and reared large families of the most eminent respectability. In short, lived and died in the regular orthodox fashion. The distress and horror of all the relatives may be imagined when the unsightly protuberance was first noticed. The lad was pitied by his parents, and scoffed at by his brethren, all alike as two peas.
The physicians of his native place said “Let the child alone; give him some active useful employment and trust to him. Don’t use too much force, for the boy is of more delicate clay than the rest, and must be managed carefully.” But the parents in their anxiety, the father being what is called a man handy with tools, had invented this cruel arrangement of straps and buckles which seemed to have cut into the very soul of the boy. He grew gloomy and despondent, dull at his books, and took no apparent pleasure in the society of others of his age. The burden seemed to grow with his years, to lie as heavily on his heart as on his shoulders.
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This perfect summer day he had wandered off, as usual, by the banks of the little stream. His brother had gone further up where the water was deeper, and trout were said to be in the pools. At times their laughter came floating down so merry and infectious that a smile almost reached the lips of the dull boy who stood brooding over the water.
The wind rose somewhat, shaking down the autumn leaves in a shower at his feet, brown, crimson and gold. The heavy eyes brightened at the sight with a sudden light, like distant lightning after a tropical day. A brown bird began singing over his head as it swung on a bough. Softly as first, then louder and stronger and fuller, such a wild joyous rollocking ron de lay that the boy felt his pulses quicking and his heart pounding with the harmony. The wind came stronger, with a breath of the sea. The song of the brown bird filled all the air. The boy stood upright, and with eager hands tore furiously at the ligatures that bound his shoulders. Buckles and straps parted and fell rattling to the ground. A very curious thing happened. Released from their bonds, two great wings of purple and gold quivered in the sunlight. A beauty not of the earth shone in the face of the boy, with a quick glance upward he thrust aside the overhanging leaves, pushed the air with his burnished wings and swept away towards the east. The brown bird looked up, ceased its song, and hid its head beneath its wing.
The next day, flying over the marshes to meet its love, in a bare and desolate place it discerned a gleam of color. Swooping down to examine closer a thing so unusual it found the poor boy dead and cold in the slump of the marsh. The muscles of his wings for so many years unused to action had become flaccid and weak. In his elation at the discovering of his marvellous powers he had miscalculated his strength, attempted too high a flight, and thus failed miserably in this outset of his career, and so had died in the mire, the green ooze rising about his face and his purple wings trailing broken and soiled.