The Yellow Wallpaper and "What Diantha Did". Charlotte Perkins Gilman

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      It used to disturb me at first. I thought seriously of burning the house—to reach the smell.

      But now I am used to it. The only thing I can think of that it is like is the color of the paper! A yellow smell.

      There is a very funny mark on this wall, low down, near the mopboard. A streak that runs round the room. It goes behind every piece of furniture, except the bed, a long, straight, even smooch, as if it had been rubbed over and over.

      I wonder how it was done and who did it, and what they did it for. Round and round and round—round and round and round—it makes me dizzy!

      I really have discovered something at last.

      Through watching so much at night, when it changes so, I have finally found out.

      The front pattern does move—and no wonder! The woman behind shakes it!

      Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind, and sometimes only one, and she crawls around fast, and her crawling shakes it all over.

      Then in the very bright spots she keeps still, and in the very shady spots she just takes hold of the bars and shakes them hard.

      And she is all the time trying to climb through. But nobody could climb through that pattern—it strangles so; I think that is why it has so many heads.

      They get through, and then the pattern strangles them off and turns them upside down, and makes their eyes white!

      If those heads were covered or taken off it would not be half so bad.

      I think that woman gets out in the daytime!

      And I’ll tell you why—privately—I’ve seen her!

      I can see her out of every one of my windows!

      It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight.

      I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines.

      I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight!

      I always lock the door when I creep by daylight. I can’t do it at night, for I know John would suspect something at once.

      And John is so queer now, that I don’t want to irritate him. I wish he would take another room! Besides, I don’t want anybody to get that woman out at night but myself.

      I often wonder if I could see her out of all the windows at once.

      But, turn as fast as I can, I can only see out of one at one time.

      And though I always see her, she may be able to creep faster than I can turn!

      I have watched her sometimes away off in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind.

      If only that top pattern could be gotten off from the under one! I mean to try it, little by little.

      I have found out another funny thing, but I shan’t tell it this time! It does not do to trust people too much.

      There are only two more days to get this paper off, and I believe John is beginning to notice. I don’t like the look in his eyes.

      And I heard him ask Jennie a lot of professional questions about me. She had a very good report to give.

      She said I slept a good deal in the daytime.

      John knows I don’t sleep very well at night, for all I’m so quiet!

      He asked me all sorts of questions, too, and pretended to be very loving and kind.

      As if I couldn’t see through him!

      Still, I don’t wonder he acts so, sleeping under this paper for three months.

      It only interests me, but I feel sure John and Jennie are secretly affected by it.

      Hurrah! This is the last day, but it is enough. John is to stay in town over night, and won’t be out until this evening.

      Jennie wanted to sleep with me—the sly thing! but I told her I should undoubtedly rest better for a night all alone.

      That was clever, for really I wasn’t alone a bit! As soon as it was moonlight and that poor thing began to crawl and shake the pattern, I got up and ran to help her.

      I pulled and she shook, I shook and she pulled, and before morning we had peeled off yards of that paper.

      A strip about as high as my head and half around the room.

      And then when the sun came and that awful pattern began to laugh at me, I declared I would finish it to-day!

      We go away to-morrow, and they are moving all my furniture down again to leave things as they were before.

      Jennie looked at the wall in amazement, but I told her merrily that I did it out of pure spite at the vicious thing.

      She laughed and said she wouldn’t mind doing it herself, but I must not get tired.

      How she betrayed herself that time!

      But I am here, and no person touches this paper but me—not alive!

      She tried to get me out of the room—it was too patent! But I said it was so quiet and empty and clean now that I believed I would lie down again and sleep all I could; and not to wake me even for dinner—I would call when I woke.

      So now she is gone, and the servants are gone, and the things are gone, and there is nothing left but that great bedstead nailed down, with the canvas mattress we found on it.

      We shall sleep downstairs to-night, and take the boat home to-morrow.

      I quite enjoy the room, now it is bare again.

      How those children did tear about here!

      This bedstead is fairly gnawed!

      But I must get to work.

      I have locked the door and thrown the key down into the front path.

      I don’t want to go out, and I don’t want to have anybody come in, till John comes.

      I want to astonish him.

      I’ve got a rope up here that even Jennie did not find. If that woman does get out, and tries to get away, I can tie her!

      But I forgot I could not reach far without anything to stand on!

      This bed will not move!

      I tried to lift and push it until I was lame, and then I got so angry I bit off a little piece at one corner—but it hurt my teeth.

      Then I peeled off all the paper I could reach standing on the floor. It sticks horribly and the pattern СКАЧАТЬ