stories by english authors in london(英国作家在伦敦的故事)-第24节
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sound of children's feet running； and I can sob aloud。 You may say that it
is only selfishness； and what I really pity is my own boyhood。 I dare say
you're right。 It's certain that； as I kept glancing at the boy and his sea kit
and his bunch of flowers； my mind went back to the January morning；
sixty…five years back； when the coach took me off for the first time from
the village where I was born to a London charity… school。 I was worse off
than the boy in the omnibus； for I had just lost father and mother。 Yet it
was the sticks and stones and flower… beds that I mostly thought of。 I went
round and said good…bye to the lilacs； and told them to be in flower by the
time I came back。 I said to the rose…bush； 'You must be as high as my
window next May； you know you only missed it by three inches last
summer。' Then I went to the cow…house； and kissed the cows； one by one。
They were to be sold by auction the very next week； but I guessed nothing
of it； and ordered them not to forget me。 And last I looked at the swallows'
nests under the thatch；the last year's nests；and told myself that they
would be filled again when I returned。 I remembered this； and how I
stretched out my hands to the place from the coach…top； and how at
Reading； where we stopped； I spent the two shillings that I possessed in a
cocoanut and a bright clasp…knife； and how； when I opened it； the nut was
sour； and how I cried myself to sleep； and woke in London。
〃The young men in Tweedy's； though they respect my long standing
there； make fun of me at times because I never take a holiday in the
country。 Why； sir； /I dare not/。 I should wander back to my old village；
and Well； I know how it would be then。 I should find it smaller and
meaner； I should search about for the flowers and nests； and listen for the
music that I knew sixty…five years ago； and remember； and they would not
be discoverable。 Also every face would stare at me； for all the faces I
know are dead。 Then I should think I had missed my way and come to the
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wrong place； or （worse） that no such spot ever existed； and I have been
cheating myself all these years； that； in fact； I was mad all the while； and
have no stable reason for existingI； the oldest clerk in Tweedy's！ To be
sure； there would be my parents' headstones in the churchyard。 But what
are they； if the churchyard itself is changed？
〃As it is； with three hundred pounds per annum； and enough laid by to
keep him； if I fail； an old bachelor has no reason to grumble。 But the sight
of that little chap's nosegay； and the thought of the mother who tied it there；
made my heart swell as I fancy the earth must swell when rain is coming。
His eyes filled once； and he brushed them under the pretence of pulling his
cap forward； and stole a glance round to see if any one had noticed him。
The other passengers were busy with their own thoughts； and I pretended
to stare out of the window opposite； but there was the drop； sure enough；
on his hand as he laid it on his lap again。
〃He was bound for the docks； and thence for the open sea； and I； that
was bound for Tweedy's only； had to get out at the top of Cheapside。 I
know the 'bus conductor；a very honest man；and； in getting out； I
slipped half a crown into his hand to give to the boy； with my blessing； at
his journey's end。 When I picture his face； sir； I wish I had made it five
shillings； and gone without a new tie and dinner altogether。〃
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THE HIRED BABY
BY MARIE CORELLI
A dark； desolate December night； a night that clung to the metropolis
like a wet black shroud； a night in which the heavy； low…hanging vapours
melted every now and then into a slow； reluctant rain； cold as icicle…drops
in a rock cavern。 People passed and repassed in the streets like ghosts in a
bad dream； the twinkling gas…light showed them at one moment rising out
of the fog； and then disappearing from view as though suddenly engulfed
in a vaporous ebon sea。 With muffled； angry shrieks； the metropolitan
trains deposited their shoals of shivering； coughing travelers at the several
stations； where sleepy officials； rendered vicious by the weather； snatched
the tickets from their hands with offensive haste and roughness。 Omnibus
conductors grew ill…tempered and abusive without any seemingly adequate
reason； shopkeepers became flippant； disobliging； and careless of custom；
cabmen shouted derisive or denunciatory language after their rapidly
retreating fares； in short； everybody was in a discontented； almost spiteful
humour； with the exception of those few aggressively cheerful persons
who are in the habit of always making the best of everything； even bad
weather。 Down the long wide vista of the Cromwell Road； Kensington； the
fog had it all its own way； it swept on steadily； like thick smoke from a
huge fire； choking the throats and blinding the eyes of foot…passengers；
stealing through the crannies of the houses； and chilling the blood of even
those luxurious individuals who； seated in elegant drawing…rooms before
blazing fires； easily forgot that there were such bitter things as cold and
poverty in that outside world against which they had barred their windows。
At one house in particulara house with gaudy glass doors and somewhat
spoiled yellow silk curtains at the windows； a house that plainly said to
itself； 〃Done up for show！〃 to all who cared to examine its exteriorthere
stood a closed brougham； drawn by a prancing pair of fat horses。 A
coachman of distinguished appearance sat on the box； a footman of
irreproachable figure stood waiting on the pavement； his yellow…gloved
hand resting elegantly on the polished silver knob of the carriage door。
Both these gentlemen were resolute and inflexible of face； they looked as
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if they had determined on some great deed that should move the world to
wild applause； but； truth to tell； they had only just finished a highly
satisfactory 〃meat…tea；〃 and before this grave silence had fallen upon them；
they had been discussing the advisability of broiled steak and onions for
supper。 The coachman had inclined to plain mutton…chops as being easier
of digestion； the footman had earnestly asseverated his belief in the
superior succulence and sweetness of the steak and onions； and in the end
he had gained his point。 This weighty question being settled； they had
gradually grown reflective on the past； present； and future joys of eating at
some one else's expense； and in this bland and pleasing state of meditation
they were still absorbed。 The horses were impatient； and pawed the muddy
ground with many a toss of their long manes and tails； the steam from
their glossy coats mingling with the ever…thickening density of the fog。 On
the white stone steps of the residence before which they waited was an
almost invisible bundle； apparently shapeless and immovable。 Neither of
the two gorgeous personages in livery observed it； it was too far back in a
dim corner； too unobtrusive； for the casual regard of their lofty eyes。
Suddenly the glass doors before mentioned were thrown apart with a
clattering noise； a warmth and radiance from the entrance…hall thus
displayed streamed into the foggy street； and at the same instant the
footman； still with grave and imperturbable countenance； opened the
brougham。 An elderly lady； richly dressed； with diamonds sparkling in her
gray hair； came rustling down the steps； bringing with her faint odours of
patchouly and violet…powder。 She was followed by a girl of doll…like
prettiness； with a snub nose and petulant little mouth； who held up her
satin…and…lace skirts with a sort of fastidious disdain； as though sh
