《汤姆·索亚历险记》第二章 无奈刷墙,成绩辉煌
SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting.
Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing ~Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under an hour -- and even then somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said:
"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some."
Jim shook his head and said:
"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend to my own business -- she 'lowed she'd 'tend to de whitewashin'."
"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always talks. Gimme the bucket -- I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't ever know."
"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n me. 'Deed she would."
"She! She never licks anybody -- whacks 'em over the head with her thimble -- and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but talk don't hurt -- anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!"
Jim began to waver.
"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw."
"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful 'fraid ole missis --"
"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe."
Jim was only human -- this attraction was too much for him. He put down his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and they would make a world of fun of him for having to work -- the very thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and examined it -- bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a great, magnificent inspiration.
He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in sight presently -- the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump -- proof enough that his heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned far over to star-board and rounded to ponderously and with laborious pomp and circumstance -- for he was personating the Big missouri, and considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them:
"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he drew up slowly toward the sidewalk.
"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and stiffened down his sides.
"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow! Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles -- for it was representing a forty-foot wheel.
"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!" The left hand began to describe circles.
"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! lively now! Come -- out with your spring-line -- what're you about there! Take a turn round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now -- let her go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!"
"Sh't! s'h't! sh't!" (trying the gauge-cocks)。
Tom went on whitewashing -- paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben stared a moment and then said: "Hi-Yi! you're up a stump, ain't you!"
No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said:
"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?"
Tom wheeled suddenly and said:
"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing."
"Say -- I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of course you'd druther work -- wouldn't you? Course you would!"
Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said:
"What do you call work?"
"Why, ain't that work?"
Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:
"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom Sawyer."
"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you like it?"
The brush continued to move.
"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?"
That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth -- stepped back to note the effect -- added a touch here and there -- criticised the effect again -- Ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:
"Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little."
Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:
"No -- no -- I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's awful particular about this fence -- right here on the street, you know -- but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and she wouldn't. Yes, she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done."
"No -- is that so? Oh come, now -- lemme just try. Only just a little -- I'd let you, if you was me, Tom."
"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly -- well, Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this fence and anything was to happen to it --"
"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say -- I'll give you the core of my apple."
"Well, here -- No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard --"
"I'll give you all of it!"
Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with -- and so on, and so on, hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a dog-collar -- but no dog -- the handle of a knife, four pieces of orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash.
He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while -- plenty of company -- and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.
Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it -- namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work and then they would resign.
The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to report.
星期六的早晨到了,夏天的世界,阳光明媚,空气新鲜,充满了生机。每个人的心中都荡漾着一首歌,有些年轻人情不自禁地唱出了这首歌。每个人脸上都洋溢着欢乐,每个人的脚步都是那么轻盈。洋槐树正开着花,空气里弥漫着芬芳的花香。村庄外面高高的卡第夫山上覆盖着绿色的植被,这山离村子不远不近,就像一块鈥溊滞菱潱舶蚕辏渎位茫钊讼蛲
汤姆出现在人行道上,一只手拎着一桶灰浆,另一只手拿着一把长柄刷子。他环顾栅栏,所有的快乐,立刻烟消云散,心中充满了惆怅。栅栏可是三十码长,九英尺高啊。生活对他来说太乏味空洞了,活着仅是一种负担。他叹了一口气,用刷子蘸上灰浆,沿着最顶上一层木板刷起来。接着又刷了一下,二下。看看刚刷过的不起眼的那块,再和那远不着边际的栅栏相比,汤姆灰心丧气地在一块木箱子上坐下来。这时,吉姆手里提着一个锡皮桶,嘴中唱着鈥湶挤薜呐廾氢澅谋奶卮哟竺趴谂艹隼础T谔滥费壑校秸蛏洗映樗锪嗨幌蚴羌钊搜岱车牟钍拢衷谒刹徽庋戳恕K堑迷谀抢镉泻芏喟槎S邪兹撕⒆樱谌撕⒆樱褂谢煅⒆樱心信荚谀桥哦拥茸盘崴4蠹以谀嵌菹ⅲ换桓髯酝娴亩鳎吵衬帜郑锋蚁贰6宜辜堑镁」芩羌依肓嗨χ挥幸话傥迨胱笥遥墒羌反用挥性谝桓鲂∈崩锪嗷匾煌八粹斺斢惺鄙踔粱沟帽鹑巳ゴ卟判小L滥匪担
鈥溛梗罚绻憷此⒌闱剑揖腿ヌ崴b
吉姆摇摇头,说:
鈥湶恍校滥飞僖@咸形胰ヌ崴蛔荚诼飞贤O吕春腿思彝妗K邓碌教滥飞僖慊崛梦宜⑶剑运愿牢抑还芨勺约旱幕睿芩讼惺骡斺斔邓鬃岳纯纯茨闼⑶健b
鈥溈龋罚惚鸸芩阅闼档哪且惶住K苁钦庋档摹
把水桶给我鈥斺斘液芸炀突乩础K换嶂赖摹b
鈥溑叮唬铱刹桓遥滥飞僖@咸岚盐业耐犯∠吕吹模娴幕岬模♀
鈥溗穑克永疵蛔峁魏稳蒜斺斔还怯枚フ朐谕飞锨们冒樟蒜斺斔乖诤跽飧觯业故窍胛饰誓恪K还亲焐纤档眯祝墒撬邓涤稚撕Σ涣四汊斺斨灰淮蠼写笕戮兔皇隆<罚腋阋桓龊猛嬉猓阋桓霭资纷佣♀
吉姆开始动摇了。
鈥湴资纷樱罚≌饪墒钦嬲猛娴氖纷影 b
鈥満伲鲜邓担鞘歉鐾Σ淮淼暮猛嬉狻?墒翘滥飞僖液ε吕咸︹︹
鈥溁褂校罚灰愦鹩α说幕埃一垢憧次夷侵唤胖和罚侵恢淄吹慕胖和贰b
吉姆到底是个凡人,不是神仙鈥斺斦庥栈蠖运罅恕K畔滤埃庸资纷佣谷挠行巳さ赝渥叛刺滥方饪诮派系牟即樱茨侵恢淄吹慕胖骸?墒牵换岫螅返钠ü芍蓖矗嘧潘胺煽斓匮刈沤值琅艿袅耍惶滥芳绦镁⒌厮⑶剑蛭ɡ蛞搪璐耸贝犹锏馗苫罨乩戳恕K掷锾嶙乓恢煌闲劾锪髀冻雎獾纳裆
不过,汤姆这股劲没持续多久。他开始想起原先为这个休息日所作的一些玩耍的安排,心里越想越不是滋味。再过一会儿,那些自由自在的孩子们就会蹦跳着跑过来,做各种各样开心好玩的游戏,他们看到他不得不刷墙干活,会大肆嘲笑挖苦他的鈥斺斠幌氲秸猓滥沸睦锞拖窕鹕账频哪咽堋K贸鏊康募业北Ρ矗邢傅乜戳艘徽筲斺斢胁腥辈蝗耐婢摺⒁恍┦纷印⒒褂幸恍┟挥惺裁从么Φ亩鳌U庑┩嬉庾愎挥美椿蝗”鸬暮⒆游约焊苫睿还牖焕窗敫鲂∈钡木宰杂桑残砘共畹迷赌亍S谑撬职颜饧讣闪谋Ρ赐嬉庾敖诖蛳擞谜庑├词章蚰切┠泻⒆拥哪钔贰U谡饣倚木氖笨蹋鋈涣榛欢粕闲睦础U庵饕馐翟谑谴厦骶祝畈豢裳浴
他拿起刷子,一声不响地干了起来。不一会儿,本路罗杰斯出现了鈥斺斣谒械暮⒆用堑敝校钦飧瞿泻⒔刑滥纷詈ε隆L滥纷钆滤募シ怼1咀呗泛孟袷亲鋈短斺斦庵っ魉耸钡男那榍崴捎淇欤一勾蛩愀傻阃纯旄咝说氖隆K诔云还皇钡胤⒊龀こさ摹⒑锰拟溛剽斺斺澋慕猩艋岫光湺5钡薄⒍5钡扁澋匮Я迳欤馐窃诎缪菀恢徽羝执K嚼丛浇谑撬趼俣龋叩浇种行模硖迩阆蛴蚁希粤Α⒆鲎鞯刈舜肥勾娣缤O骡斺斔诎缪葩湸竺芩绽锖赔潱孟褚殉运庞⒊呱睢K鹊贝值贝せ挂甭只濉R虼怂拖胂笞抛约赫驹诼执亩ゲ慵装迳戏⒆琶睿被怪葱凶耪庑┟睢
鈥溚4锛疲《b斺敯×澹♀澊负跬N攘耍缓笏致叵蛉诵械揽抗础
鈥湹髯罚《b斺敯×邂斺斄澹♀澦奖凵熘保昧ν奖叽棺拧
鈥溣蚁虾笸耍b斺敯×邂斺斄澹∴晡剽斺斷赈斺斷晡兀∴晡兀♀
他一边喊着,一边用手比划着画个大圈鈥斺斦獯碜乓桓鏊氖⒊叽笞帧
鈥溩笙虾笸耍《b斺敯×邂斺斄澹∴晡剽斺斷赈斺斷晡剽斺斷晡兀♀澴笫挚蓟Α
鈥溣蚁贤#《b斺敯×邂斺斄澹∽笙贤#∮蚁锨敖⊥#⊥饷媛矗《b斺敯×邂斺斄澹∴赈斺斘剽斺斘兀“汛返纳髂霉矗】斓悖∥光斺斣侔汛叩纳鞯莨粹斺斈阍诜⑹裁创簦“焉房看谱『茫驼饷蠢翕斺敺攀职桑》⒍W。锛疲《b斺敯×邂斺斄澹∠L剽斺斚L剽斺斚L兀♀潱》伦牌排牌纳簟#
汤姆继续刷栅栏,鈥斺敳蝗ダ聿悄侵徽羝执镜勺叛劬戳艘换岫担
鈥湴パ剑闳兆雍霉耍遣皇牵库
汤姆没有回答。只是用艺术家的眼光审视他最后刷的那一块,接着轻轻地刷了一下。又像刚才那样打量着栅栏。本走过来站在他身旁。看见那苹果,汤姆馋得直流口水,可是他还是继续刷他的墙。本说:
鈥満伲匣锛疲慊沟酶苫钛剑祝库
汤姆猛然地转过身来说道:鈥溈龋∈悄阊剑尽N一姑蛔⒁獾侥隳亍b
鈥湽嫠吣惆桑铱墒且ビ斡玖恕D训滥悴幌肴ヂ穑康比焕玻隳冈谡飧苫睿圆欢裕康比荒闱樵福♀
汤姆打量了一下那男孩,说:
鈥溎闼凳裁矗空饨懈苫睿库
鈥溦饣共唤懈苫睿懈墒裁矗库
汤姆重新又开始刷墙,漫不经心地说:鈥溦庖残硎歉苫睿残聿皇恰N抑恢勒舛蕴滥路索亚来说倒是很得劲。鈥
鈥溑叮昧税桑∧训滥愕囊馑际撬的阆不陡烧馐拢库
刷子还在不停地刷着。
鈥溝不陡桑堪ィ艺娓悴欢裁次乙幌不陡桑母瞿泻⒆幽芴焯煊谢崴⑶剑库
这倒是件新鲜事。于是,本停止了啃苹果。汤姆灵巧地用刷子来回刷着鈥斺敳皇钡赝O吕赐撕蠹覆娇纯葱Ч斺斣谡獠挂凰ⅲ谀遣挂凰⑩斺斎缓笤俅蛄恳幌滦Ч斺敱咀邢傅毓劭醋盘滥返囊痪僖欢娇丛接行巳ぃ娇丛奖晃×恕:罄此担
鈥溛梗滥罚梦依此⒌愣纯础b
汤姆想了一下,正打算答应他;可是他立刻又改变了主意:
鈥湶 鈥斺敳恍校锯斺斘蚁胝饪峙虏恍小R溃ɡ蛞搪瓒哉饷媲绞呛芙簿康拟斺斦饪墒堑苯值囊幻嫜解斺敳还呛竺娴模闼⑺⒌挂参薹粒搪枰膊换嵩诤醯摹J茄剑哉獾狼绞欠浅=簿康摹K⒄馇揭欢ǖ梅浅>摹N蚁朐谝磺В残碓诹角Ц龊⒆永铮舱也怀鲆桓瞿馨床ɡ蛞搪璧囊笏⒑谜獾狼降摹b濃溑叮锹穑堪ィ腿梦沂砸皇园伞N抑凰⒁坏愣斺斕滥罚绻沂悄愕幕埃一崛媚闶允缘摹b
鈥湵荆业故窃敢猓嫡娴摹?墒牵ɡ蛞搪桠斺敯Γ废胨ⅲ伤唤兴ⅲ5乱蚕敫桑膊蝗孟5赂伞O衷冢阒牢腋糜卸嗝次眩恳悄憷窗谂馇剑蛞怀隽耸裁疵♀︹︹
鈥湴。皇拢一嵝⌒淖邢傅摹;故侨梦依词允园伞:兮斺斘野哑还烁恪b
鈥湴Γ蔷外︹Σ恍校荆懔税伞N揖团骡︹Αb
鈥溛野颜馄还悖♀
汤姆把刷子让给本,脸上显示出不情愿,可心里却美滋滋的。
当刚才那只鈥湸竺芩绽锖赔澰谘艄庀赂苫睿鄣么蠛沽芾斓氖焙颍馕焕肓酥暗囊帐跫胰丛诟浇囊趿瓜拢谝恢荒就吧希巫哦赏龋槐叽罂诖罂诘爻宰牌还槐甙蛋蹬趟闳绾卧僭赘嗟纳倒稀U庋男∩倒匣嵊行矶唷C抗换岫陀行┠泻⒆哟诱饩黄鹣人嵌枷肜纯嫘Γ墒墙峁急涣粝吕此⑶健T诒纠鄣镁A∈保滥吩缫丫捅壤路费施做好了交易。比利用一个修得很好的风筝换来接替本的机会。等到比利也玩得差不多的时候,詹尼路米勒用一只死老鼠和拴着它的小绳子购买了这个特权鈥斺斠桓鲇忠桓龅纳敌∽邮芷狭说保恿父鲋油范济挥屑涠稀O挛缈旃艘话氲氖焙颍滥吩缟匣故歉銎独Я实沟那钚∽樱衷谝幌伦泳捅涑闪搜墓牡睦辛恕3艘陨咸岬降哪切┩嬉庖酝猓褂惺攀纷樱灰恢黄瓶谇伲灰豢榭梢酝甘拥睦恫A灰幻畔咧嶙龅拇笈冢灰话咽裁此膊豢脑砍祝灰唤胤郾剩灰桓龃缶破咳樱灰桓鑫ぷ龅男”灰欢则蝌剑涣霰夼冢灰恢欢姥坌∶ǎ灰桓雒派系耐咽郑灰桓┕返木比︹斺斎疵挥泄封斺斠桓龅栋眩凰钠圩悠ぃ换褂幸桓銎凭傻拇翱颉
他一直过得舒舒服服,悠闲自在鈥斺斖楹芏噔斺敹仪秸凰⒘巳椤R皇撬幕医霉饬说幕埃崛么謇锏拿扛龊⒆佣继涂昭撇摹
汤姆自言自语道,这世界原来并不是那么空洞乏味啊。他已经不知不觉地发现了人类行为的一大法则鈥斺斈蔷褪俏巳靡桓龃笕嘶蛞桓鲂『⒖释墒裁词拢恍枭璺ń馐卤涞媚岩缘绞志托辛恕H绻俏晃按蠖髦堑恼苎Ъ遥拖裾獗臼榈淖髡撸突岫盟解湽ぷ麾澗褪且桓鋈吮黄纫傻氖虑椋劣阝溚驸澗褪且桓鋈嗣挥幸逦褚傻氖隆U飧龅览硎顾靼琢宋裁醋黾倩ê偷懦德志退闶枪ぷ鳎媸泛团啦史寰退闶怯槔帧S⒐星纳鹗吭谙募久刻旒葑潘穆致砝统笛刈磐穆废咦呱隙铮俏庵痔厝ň够撕芏嗲?墒侨绻虼烁肚堑幕埃蔷桶颜庾虑楸涑闪斯ぷ鳎蔷突崛鍪植桓闪恕
汤姆思考了一会那天发生在他身边的实质性变化,然后就到司令部报告去了。
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