english stories-london-第22部分

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gutter。　All　darkall　useless！〃　She　laughed　a　little。　〃Fancy；　Jim！

I've　never　seen　the　country！〃



〃Nor　I；〃　said　Jim；　biting　a　piece　of　straw　reflectively。　〃It　must　be

powerful　fine；　with　naught　but　green　trees　an'　posies　a…　blowin'　an'　a

growin'　everywheres。　There　ain't　many　kitching　areas　there；　though；

I'm　told。〃



Liz　went　on；　scarcely　heeding　him：　〃The　baby　seems　to　me　like　what　the

country　must　beall　harmless　and　sweet　and　quiet；　when　I　hold　it　so；

my　heart　gets　peaceful　somehowI　don't　know　why。〃



Again　Jim　looked　speculative。　He　waved　his　bitten　straw　expressively。



〃Ye've　had　'sperience；　Liz。　Hain't　ye　met　no　man　like　wot　ye　could

care　fur？〃



Liz　trembled；　and　her　eyes　grew　wild。。



〃Men！〃　she　cried；　with　bitterest　scorn〃no　men　have　come　my　way；　only

brutes！〃



Jim　stared；　but　was　silent；　he　had　no　fit　answer　ready。　Presently　Liz

spoke　again；　more　softly：



〃Jim；　do　you　know　I　went　into　a　great　church　to…day？〃



〃Worse　luck！〃　said　Jim；　sententiously。　〃Church　ain't　no　use　nohow　as

far　as　I　can　see。〃



〃There　was　a　figure　there；　Jim；〃　went　on　Liz；　earnestly；　〃of　a　Woman

holding　up　a　Baby；　and　people　knelt　down　before　it。　What　do　you　s'pose

it　was？〃



〃Can't　say！〃　replied　the　puzzled　Jim。　〃Are　ye　sure　't　was　a　church？

Most　like　't　was　a　mooseum。〃



〃No；　no！〃　said　Liz。　〃　'T　was　a　church　for　certain；　there　were　folks

praying　in　it。〃



〃Ah；　well；〃　growled　Jim；　gruffly；　〃much　good　it　may　do　'em！　I'm　not　of

the　prayin'　sort。　A　woman　an'　a　babby；　did　ye　say？　Don't　ye　get　such

cranky　notions　into　yer　head；　Liz！　Women　an'　babbies　are　common　enough

too　common；　by　a　long　chalk；　an'　as　for　prayin'　to　'em〃　Jim's

utter　contempt　and　incredulity　were　too　great　for　further　expression；

and　he　turned　away；　wishing　her　a　curt　〃Good…night！〃



〃Good…night！〃　said　Liz；　softly；　and　long　after　he　had　left　her　she

still　sat　silent；　thinking；　thinking；　with　the　baby　asleep　in　her

arms；　listening　to　the　rain　as　it　dripped；　dripped　heavily；　like　clods

falling　on　a　coffin　lid。　She　was　not　a　good　womanfar　from　it。　Her

very　motive　in　hiring　the　infant　at　so　much　a　day　was　entirely

inexcusable；　it　was　simply　to　gain　money　upon　false　pretencesby

exciting　more　pity　than　would　otherwise　have　been　bestowed　on　her　had

she　begged　for　herself　alone；　without　a　child　in　her　arms。　At　first

she　had　carried　the　baby　about　to　serve　as　a　mere　trick　of　her　trade；

but　the　warm　feel　of　its　little　helpless　body　against　her　bosom　day

after　day　had　softened　her　heart　toward　its　innocence　and　pitiful

weakness；　and　at　last　she　had　grown　to　love　it　with　a　strange；　intense

passionso　much　that　she　would　willingly　have　sacrificed　her　life　for

its　sake。　She　knew　that　its　own　parents　cared　nothing　for　it；　except

for　the　money　it　brought　them　through　her　hands；　and　often　wild　plans

would　form　in　her　poor　tired　brainplans　of　running　away　with　it

altogether　from　the　roaring；　devouring　city；　to　some　sweet；　humble

country　village；　there　to　obtain　work　and　devote　herself　to　making

this　little　child　happy。　Poor　Liz！　Poor；　bewildered；　heart…broken　Liz！

Ignorant　London　heathen　as　she　was；　there　was　one　fragrant　flower

blossoming　in　the　desert　of　her　soiled　and　wasted　existencethe

flower　of　a　pure　and　guileless　love　for　one　of　those　〃little　ones；〃　of

whom　it　hath　been　said　by　an　all…pitying　Divinity　unknown　to　her；

〃Suffer　them　to　come　unto　Me；　and　forbid　them　not：　for　of　such　is　the

kingdom　of　heaven。〃



The　dreary　winter　days　crept　on　apace；　and；　as　they　drew　near

Christmas；　dwellers　in　the　streets　leading　off　the　Strand　grew

accustomed　of　nights　to　hear　the　plaintive　voice　of　a　woman；　singing

in　a　peculiarly　thrilling　and　pathetic　manner　some　of　the　old　songs

and　ballads　familiar　and　dear　to　the　heart　of　every　Englishman〃The

Banks　of　Allan　Water；〃　〃The　Bailiff's　Daughter；〃　〃Sally　in　our　Alley；〃

〃The　Last　Rose　of　Summer。〃　All　these　well…loved　ditties　she　sang　one

after　the　other；　and；　though　her　notes　were　neither　fresh　nor

powerful；　they　were　true　and　often　tender；　more　particularly　in　the

hackneyed；　but　still　captivating；　melody　of　〃Home；　Sweet　Home。〃

Windows　were　opened；　and　pennies　freely　showered　on　the　street

vocalist；　who　was　accompanied　in　all　her　wanderings　by　a　fragile

infant；　which　she　seemed　to　carry　with　especial　care　and　tenderness。

Sometimes；　too；　in　the　bleak　afternoons；　she　would　be　seen　wending　her

way　through　mud　and　mire；　setting　her　weary　face　against　the　bitter

east　wind；　and　patiently　singing　on；　and　motherly　women；　coming　from

the　gay　shops　and　stores；　where　they　had　been　purchasing　Christmas

toys　for　their　own　children；　would　often　stop　to　look　at　the　baby's

pinched；　white　features　with　pity；　and　would　say；　while　giving　their

spare　pennies；　〃Poor　little　thing！　Is　it　not　very　ill？〃　And　Liz；　her

heart　freezing　with　sudden　terror；　would　exclaim；　hurriedly；　〃Oh；　no；

no！　It　is　always　pale；　it　is　just　a　little　bit　weak；　that's　all！〃　And

the　kindly　questioners；　touched　by　the　large　despair　of　her　dark　eyes；

would　pass　on　and　say　no　more。　And　Christmas　camethe　birthday　of　the

Child　Christa　feast　the　sacred　meaning　of　which　was　unknown　to　Liz；

she　only　recognized　it　as　a　sort　of　large　and　somewhat　dull　bank…

holiday；　when　all　London　devoted　itself　to　church…going　and　the　eating

of　roast　beef　and　plum…pudding。　The　whole　thing　was　incomprehensible

to　her　mind；　but　even　her　sad　countenance　was　brighter　than　usual　on

Christmas　eve；　and　she　felt　almost　gay；　for　had　she　not；　by　means　of　a

little　extra　starvation　on　her　own　part；　been　able　to　buy　a　wondrous

gold…and…crimson　worsted　bird　suspended　from　an　elastic　string；　a　bird

which　bobbed　up　and　down　to　command　in　the　most　lively　and　artistic

manner？　And　had　not　her　hired　baby　actually　laughed　at　the　clumsy　toy

laughed　an　elfish　and　weird　laugh；　the　first　it　had　ever　indulged

in？　And　Liz　had　laughed　too；　for　pure　gladness　in　the　child's　mirth；

and　the　worsted　bird　became　a　sort　of　uncouth　charm　to　make　them　both

merry。



But　after　Christmas　had　come　and　gone；　and　the　melancholy　days；　the

last　beating　of　the　failing　pulse　of　the　Old　Year；　throbbed　slowly　and

heavily　away；　the　baby　took　upon　its　wan　visage　a　strange　expression

the　solemn　expression　of　worn…out　and　suffering　age。　Its　blue　eyes

grew　more　solemnly　speculative　and　dreamy；　and　after　a　while　it　seemed

to　lose　all　taste　for　the　petty　things　of　this　world　and　the　low

desires　of　mere　humanity。　It　lay　very　quiet　in　Liz's　arms；　it　never

cried；　and　was　no　longer　fretful；　and　it　seemed　to　listen　with　a　sort

of　mild　approval　to　the　tones　of　her　voice　as　they　rang　out　in　the

dreary　streets；　through　which；　by　day　and　night；　she　patiently

wandered。　By…and…by　the　worsted　bird；　too；　fell　out　of　favour；　it

jumped　and　glittered　in　vain；　the　baby　surveyed　it　with　an　unmoved　air

of　superior　wisdom；　just　as　if　it　had　suddenly　found　out　what　real

birds　were　like；　and　was　not　to　be　deceived　into　accepting　so　poor　an

imitation　of　nature。　Liz　grew　uneasy；　but　she　had　no　one　in　whom　to

confide　her　fears。　She　had　been　very　regular　in　her　payments　to　Mother

Mawks；　and　that　irate　lady；　kept　in　order　by　her　bull…dog　of　a

husband；　had　been　of　late　very　contented　to　let　her　have　the　child

without　further　interference。　Liz　knew　well　enough　that　no　one　in　the

miserable　alley　where　she　dwelt　would　care　whether　the　baby　were　ill

or　not。　They　would　tell　her；　〃The　more　sickly　the　better　for　your

trade。〃　Besides；　she　was　jealous；　she　could　not　endure　the　idea　of　any

one　tending　it　or　touching　it　but　herself。　Children　were　often　ailing；

she　thought；　and　if　left　to　themselves　without　doctor's　stuff　they

recovered　sometimes　more　quickly　than　they　had　sickened。　Thus　soothing

her　inward　tremors　as　best　she　might；　she　took　more　care　than　ever　of

her　frail　charge；　stinting　herself　than　she　might　nourish　it；　though

the　baby　seemed　to　care　less　and　less　for　mundane　necessities；　and

only　submitted　to　be　fed；　as　it　were；　under　patient　and　silent

protest。



And　so　the　sands　in　Time's　hour…glass　ran　slowly　but　surely　away；　and

it　was　New…Year's　eve。　Liz　had　wandered　about　all　day；　singing　her

little　repertoire　of　ballads　in　the　teeth　of　a　cruel；　snow…laden　wind

so　cruel　that　people　otherwise　charitably　disposed　had　shut　close

their　doors　and　windows；　and　had　not　even　heard　her　voice。　Thus　the

last　span　of　the　Old　Year　had　proved　most　unprofitable　and　dreary；　she

had　gained　no　more　than　sixpence；　how　could　she　return　with　only　that

humble　amount　to　face　Mother　Mawks　and　her　vituperative　fury？　Her

throat　ached；　she　was　very　tired；　and；　as　the　night　darkened　from　pale

to　deep　and　starless　shadows；　she　strolled　mechanically　from　the

Strand　to　the　Embankment；　and　after　walking　some　little　distance　she

sat　down　in　a　corner　close　to　Cleopatra's　Needlethat　mocking　obelisk

that　has　looked　upon　the　decay　of　empires；　itself　impassive；　and　that

still　appears　to　say；　〃Pass　on；　ye　puny　generations！　I；　a　mere　carven

block　of　stone；　shall　outlive　you　all！〃　For　the　first　time　in　all　her

experience　the　child　in　her　arms　seemed　a　heavy　burden。　She　put　aside

her　shawl　and　surveyed　it　tenderly；　it　was　fast　asleep；　a　small；

peaceful　smile　on　its　thin；　quiet　face。　Thoroughly　worn　out　herself；

she　leaned　her　head　against　the　damp　stone　wall　behind　her；　and

clasping　the　infant　tightly　to　her　breast；　she　also　sleptthe　heavy；

dreamless　sleep　of　utter　fatigue　and　physical　exhaustion。　The　solemn

night　moved　on；　a　night　of　black　vapours；　the　pageant　of　the　Old

Year's　deathbed　was　unbrightened　by　so　much　as　a　single　star。　None　of

the　hurrying　passers…by　perceived　the　weary　woman　where　she　slept　in

that　obscure　corner；　and　for　a　long　while　she　rested　there

undisturbed。　Suddenly　a　vivid　glare　of　light　dazzled　her　eyes；　she

started　to　her　feet　half　asleep；　but　still　instinctively　retaining　the

infant　in　her　close　embrace。　A　dark　form；　buttoned　to　the　throat　and

holding　a　brillia