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the uncommercial traveller-第35部分

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his strong box … for which architectural offence alone he ought to

have been condemned to live in it。  But; what populace would waste

fancy upon such a place; or on New Inn; Staple Inn; Barnard's Inn;

or any of the shabby crew?



The genuine laundress; too; is an institution not to be had in its

entirety out of and away from the genuine Chambers。  Again; it is

not denied that you may be robbed elsewhere。  Elsewhere you may

have … for money … dishonesty; drunkenness; dirt; laziness; and

profound incapacity。  But the veritable shining…red…faced shameless

laundress; the true Mrs。 Sweeney … in figure; colour; texture; and

smell; like the old damp family umbrella; the tip…top complicated

abomination of stockings; spirits; bonnet; limpness; looseness; and

larceny; is only to be drawn at the fountain…head。  Mrs。 Sweeney is

beyond the reach of individual art。  It requires the united efforts

of several men to ensure that great result; and it is only

developed in perfection under an Honourable Society and in an Inn

of Court。







CHAPTER XV … NURSE'S STORIES







There are not many places that I find it more agreeable to revisit

when I am in an idle mood; than some places to which I have never

been。  For; my acquaintance with those spots is of such long

standing; and has ripened into an intimacy of so affectionate a

nature; that I take a particular interest in assuring myself that

they are unchanged。



I never was in Robinson Crusoe's Island; yet I frequently return

there。  The colony he established on it soon faded away; and it is

uninhabited by any descendants of the grave and courteous

Spaniards; or of Will Atkins and the other mutineers; and has

relapsed into its original condition。  Not a twig of its wicker

houses remains; its goats have long run wild again; its screaming

parrots would darken the sun with a cloud of many flaming colours

if a gun were fired there; no face is ever reflected in the waters

of the little creek which Friday swam across when pursued by his

two brother cannibals with sharpened stomachs。  After comparing

notes with other travellers who have similarly revisited the Island

and conscientiously inspected it; I have satisfied myself that it

contains no vestige of Mr。 Atkins's domesticity or theology; though

his track on the memorable evening of his landing to set his

captain ashore; when he was decoyed about and round about until it

was dark; and his boat was stove; and his strength and spirits

failed him; is yet plainly to be traced。  So is the hill…top on

which Robinson was struck dumb with joy when the reinstated captain

pointed to the ship; riding within half a mile of the shore; that

was to bear him away; in the nine…and…twentieth year of his

seclusion in that lonely place。  So is the sandy beach on which the

memorable footstep was impressed; and where the savages hauled up

their canoes when they came ashore for those dreadful public

dinners; which led to a dancing worse than speech…making。  So is

the cave where the flaring eyes of the old goat made such a goblin

appearance in the dark。  So is the site of the hut where Robinson

lived with the dog and the parrot and the cat; and where he endured

those first agonies of solitude; which … strange to say … never

involved any ghostly fancies; a circumstance so very remarkable;

that perhaps he left out something in writing his record?  Round

hundreds of such objects; hidden in the dense tropical foliage; the

tropical sea breaks evermore; and over them the tropical sky;

saving in the short rainy season; shines bright and cloudless。



Neither; was I ever belated among wolves; on the borders of France

and Spain; nor; did I ever; when night was closing in and the

ground was covered with snow; draw up my little company among some

felled trees which served as a breastwork; and there fire a train

of gunpowder so dexterously that suddenly we had three or four

score blazing wolves illuminating the darkness around us。

Nevertheless; I occasionally go back to that dismal region and

perform the feat again; when indeed to smell the singeing and the

frying of the wolves afire; and to see them setting one another

alight as they rush and tumble; and to behold them rolling in the

snow vainly attempting to put themselves out; and to hear their

howlings taken up by all the echoes as well as by all the unseen

wolves within the woods; makes me tremble。



I was never in the robbers' cave; where Gil Blas lived; but I often

go back there and find the trap…door just as heavy to raise as it

used to be; while that wicked old disabled Black lies everlastingly

cursing in bed。  I was never in Don Quixote's study; where he read

his books of chivalry until he rose and hacked at imaginary giants;

and then refreshed himself with great draughts of water; yet you

couldn't move a book in it without my knowledge; or with my

consent。  I was never (thank Heaven) in company with the little old

woman who hobbled out of the chest and told the merchant Abudah to

go in search of the Talisman of Oromanes; yet I make it my business

to know that she is well preserved and as intolerable as ever。  I

was never at the school where the boy Horatio Nelson got out of bed

to steal the pears:  not because he wanted any; but because every

other boy was afraid:  yet I have several times been back to this

Academy; to see him let down out of window with a sheet。  So with

Damascus; and Bagdad; and Brobingnag (which has the curious fate of

being usually misspelt when written); and Lilliput; and Laputa; and

the Nile; and Abyssinia; and the Ganges; and the North Pole; and

many hundreds of places … I was never at them; yet it is an affair

of my life to keep them intact; and I am always going back to them。



But; when I was in Dullborough one day; revisiting the associations

of my childhood as recorded in previous pages of these notes; my

experience in this wise was made quite inconsiderable and of no

account; by the quantity of places and people … utterly impossible

places and people; but none the less alarmingly real … that I found

I had been introduced to by my nurse before I was six years old;

and used to be forced to go back to at night without at all wanting

to go。  If we all knew our own minds (in a more enlarged sense than

the popular acceptation of that phrase); I suspect we should find

our nurses responsible for most of the dark corners we are forced

to go back to; against our wills。



The first diabolical character who intruded himself on my peaceful

youth (as I called to mind that day at Dullborough); was a certain

Captain Murderer。  This wretch must have been an off…shoot of the

Blue Beard family; but I had no suspicion of the consanguinity in

those times。  His warning name would seem to have awakened no

general prejudice against him; for he was admitted into the best

society and possessed immense wealth。  Captain Murderer's mission

was matrimony; and the gratification of a cannibal appetite with

tender brides。  On his marriage morning; he always caused both

sides of the way to church to be planted with curious flowers; and

when his bride said; 'Dear Captain Murderer; I ever saw flowers

like these before:  what are they called?' he answered; 'They are

called Garnish for house…lamb;' and laughed at his ferocious

practical joke in a horrid manner; disquieting the minds of the

noble bridal company; with a very sharp show of teeth; then

displayed for the first time。  He made love in a coach and six; and

married in a coach and twelve; and all his horses were milk…white

horses with one red spot on the back which he caused to be hidden

by the harness。  For; the spot WOULD come there; though every horse

was milk…white when Captain Murderer bought him。  And the spot was

young bride's blood。  (To this terrific point I am indebted for my

first personal experience of a shudder and cold beads on the

forehead。)  When Captain Murderer had made an end of feasting and

revelry; and had dismissed the noble guests; and was alone with his

wife on the day month after their marriage; it was his whimsical

custom to produce a golden rolling…pin and a silver pie…board。

Now; there was this special feature in the Captain's courtships;

that he always asked if the young lady could make pie…crust; and if

she couldn't by nature or education; she was taught。  Well。  When

the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling…pin and

silver pie…board; she remembered this; and turned up her laced…silk

sleeves to make a pie。  The Captain brought out a silver pie…dish

of immense capacity; and the Captain brought out flour and butter

and eggs and all things needful; except the inside of the pie; of

materials for the staple of the pie itself; the Captain brought out

none。  Then said the lovely bride; 'Dear Captain Murderer; what pie

is this to be?'  He replied; 'A meat pie。'  Then said the lovely

bride; 'Dear Captain Murderer; I see no meat。'  The Captain

humorously retorted; 'Look in the glass。'  She looked in the glass;

but still she saw no meat; and then the Captain roared with

laughter; and suddenly frowning and drawing his sword; bade her

roll out the crust。  So she rolled out the crust; dropping large

tears upon it all the time because he was so cross; and when she

had lined the dish with crust and had cut the crust all ready to

fit the top; the Captain called out; 'I see the meat in the glass!'

And the bride looked up at the glass; just in time to see the

Captain cutting her head off; and he chopped her in pieces; and

peppered her; and salted her; and put her in the pie; and sent it

to the baker's; and ate it all; and picked the bones。



Captain Murderer went on in this way; prospering exceedingly; until

he came to choose a bride from two twin sisters; and at first

didn't know which to choose。  For; though one was fair and the

other dark; they were both equally beautiful。  But the f
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