the uncommercial traveller-第44部分

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possibility　of　Paris　time　being　more　in　their　way；　the　other；　a

young　priest；　with　a　very　small　bird　in　a　very　small　cage；　who

feeds　the　small　bird　with　a　quill；　and　then　puts　him　up　in　the

network　above　his　head；　where　he　advances　twittering；　to　his　front

wires；　and　seems　to　address　me　in　an　electioneering　manner。　　The

compatriot　（who　crossed　in　the　boat；　and　whom　I　judge　to　be　some

person　of　distinction；　as　he　was　shut　up；　like　a　stately　species　of

rabbit；　in　a　private　hutch　on　deck）　and　the　young　priest　（who

joined　us　at　Calais）　are　soon　asleep；　and　then　the　bird　and　I　have

it　all　to　ourselves。



A　stormy　night　still；　a　night　that　sweeps　the　wires　of　the　electric

telegraph　with　a　wild　and　fitful　hand；　a　night　so　very　stormy；　with

the　added　storm　of　the　train…progress　through　it；　that　when　the

Guard　comes　clambering　round　to　mark　the　tickets　while　we　are　at

full　speed　（a　really　horrible　performance　in　an　express　train；

though　he　holds　on　to　the　open　window　by　his　elbows　in　the　most

deliberate　manner）；　he　stands　in　such　a　whirlwind　that　I　grip　him

fast　by　the　collar；　and　feel　it　next　to　manslaughter　to　let　him　go。

Still；　when　he　is　gone；　the　small；　small　bird　remains　at　his　front

wires　feebly　twittering　to　me　…　twittering　and　twittering；　until；

leaning　back　in　my　place　and　looking　at　him　in　drowsy　fascination；

I　find　that　he　seems　to　jog　my　memory　as　we　rush　along。



Uncommercial　travels　（thus　the　small；　small　bird）　have　lain　in

their　idle　thriftless　way　through　all　this　range　of　swamp　and　dyke；

as　through　many　other　odd　places；　and　about　here；　as　you　very　well

know；　are　the　queer　old　stone　farm…houses；　approached　by

drawbridges；　and　the　windmills　that　you　get　at　by　boats。　　Here；　are

the　lands　where　the　women　hoe　and　dig；　paddling　canoe…wise　from

field　to　field；　and　here　are　the　cabarets　and　other　peasant…houses

where　the　stone　dove…cotes　in　the　littered　yards　are　as　strong　as

warders'　towers　in　old　castles。　　Here；　are　the　long　monotonous

miles　of　canal；　with　the　great　Dutch…built　barges　garishly　painted；

and　the　towing　girls；　sometimes　harnessed　by　the　forehead；

sometimes　by　the　girdle　and　the　shoulders；　not　a　pleasant　sight　to

see。　　Scattered　through　this　country　are　mighty　works　of　VAUBAN；

whom　you　know　about；　and　regiments　of　such　corporals　as　you　heard

of　once　upon　a　time；　and　many　a　blue…eyed　Bebelle。　　Through　these

flat　districts；　in　the　shining　summer　days；　walk　those　long；

grotesque　files　of　young　novices　in　enormous　shovel…hats；　whom　you

remember　blackening　the　ground　checkered　by　the　avenues　of　leafy

trees。　　And　now　that　Hazebroucke　slumbers　certain　kilometres　ahead；

recall　the　summer　evening　when　your　dusty　feet　strolling　up　from

the　station　tended　hap…hazard　to　a　Fair　there；　where　the　oldest

inhabitants　were　circling　round　and　round　a　barrel…organ　on　hobby…

horses；　with　the　greatest　gravity；　and　where　the　principal　show　in

the　Fair　was　a　Religious　Richardson's　…　literally；　on　its　own

announcement　in　great　letters；　THEATRE　RELIGIEUX。　　In　which

improving　Temple；　the　dramatic　representation　was　of　'all　the

interesting　events　in　the　life　of　our　Lord；　from　the　Manger　to　the

Tomb；'　the　principal　female　character；　without　any　reservation　or

exception；　being　at　the　moment　of　your　arrival；　engaged　in　trimming

the　external　Moderators　（as　it　was　growing　dusk）；　while　the　next

principal　female　character　took　the　money；　and　the　Young　Saint　John

disported　himself　upside　down　on　the　platform。



Looking　up　at　this　point　to　confirm　the　small；　small　bird　in　every

particular　he　has　mentioned；　I　find　he　has　ceased　to　twitter；　and

has　put　his　head　under　his　wing。　　Therefore；　in　my　different　way　I

follow　the　good　example。







CHAPTER　XIX　…　SOME　RECOLLECTIONS　OF　MORTALITY







I　had　parted　from　the　small　bird　at　somewhere　about　four　o'clock　in

the　morning；　when　he　had　got　out　at　Arras；　and　had　been　received　by

two　shovel…hats　in　waiting　at　the　station；　who　presented　an

appropriately　ornithological　and　crow…like　appearance。　　My

compatriot　and　I　had　gone　on　to　Paris；　my　compatriot　enlightening

me　occasionally　with　a　long　list　of　the　enormous　grievances　of

French　railway　travelling：　　every　one　of　which；　as　I　am　a　sinner；

was　perfectly　new　to　me；　though　I　have　as　much　experience　of　French

railways　as　most　uncommercials。　　I　had　left　him　at　the　terminus

（through　his　conviction；　against　all　explanation　and　remonstrance；

that　his　baggage…ticket　was　his　passenger…ticket）；　insisting　in　a

very　high　temper　to　the　functionary　on　duty；　that　in　his　own

personal　identity　he　was　four　packages　weighing　so　many　kilogrammes

…　as　if　he　had　been　Cassim　Baba！　　I　had　bathed　and　breakfasted；　and

was　strolling　on　the　bright　quays。　　The　subject　of　my　meditations

was　the　question　whether　it　is　positively　in　the　essence　and　nature

of　things；　as　a　certain　school　of　Britons　would　seem　to　think　it；

that　a　Capital　must　be　ensnared　and　enslaved　before　it　can　be　made

beautiful：　　when　I　lifted　up　my　eyes　and　found　that　my　feet；

straying　like　my　mind；　had　brought　me　to　Notre…Dame。



That　is　to　say；　Notre…Dame　was　before　me；　but　there　was　a　large

open　space　between　us。　　A　very　little　while　gone；　I　had　left　that

space　covered　with　buildings　densely　crowded；　and　now　it　was

cleared　for　some　new　wonder　in　the　way　of　public　Street；　Place；

Garden；　Fountain；　or　all　four。　　Only　the　obscene　little　Morgue；

slinking　on　the　brink　of　the　river　and　soon　to　come　down；　was　left

there；　looking　mortally　ashamed　of　itself；　and　supremely　wicked。　　I

had　but　glanced　at　this　old　acquaintance；　when　I　beheld　an　airy

procession　coming　round　in　front　of　Notre…Dame；　past　the　great

hospital。　　It　had　something　of　a　Masaniello　look；　with　fluttering

striped　curtains　in　the　midst　of　it；　and　it　came　dancing　round　the

cathedral　in　the　liveliest　manner。



I　was　speculating　on　a　marriage　in　Blouse…life；　or　a　Christening；

or　some　other　domestic　festivity　which　I　would　see　out；　when　I

found；　from　the　talk　of　a　quick　rush　of　Blouses　past　me；　that　it

was　a　Body　coming　to　the　Morgue。　　Having　never　before　chanced　upon

this　initiation；　I　constituted　myself　a　Blouse　likewise；　and　ran

into　the　Morgue　with　the　rest。　　It　was　a　very　muddy　day；　and　we

took　in　a　quantity　of　mire　with　us；　and　the　procession　coming　in

upon　our　heels　brought　a　quantity　more。　　The　procession　was　in　the

highest　spirits；　and　consisted　of　idlers　who　had　come　with　the

curtained　litter　from　its　starting…place；　and　of　all　the

reinforcements　it　had　picked　up　by　the　way。　　It　set　the　litter　down

in　the　midst　of　the　Morgue；　and　then　two　Custodians　proclaimed

aloud　that　we　were　all　'invited'　to　go　out。　　This　invitation　was

rendered　the　more　pressing；　if　not　the　more　flattering；　by　our

being　shoved　out；　and　the　folding…gates　being　barred　upon　us。



Those　who　have　never　seen　the　Morgue；　may　see　it　perfectly；　by

presenting　to　themselves　on　indifferently　paved　coach…house

accessible　from　the　street　by　a　pair　of　folding…gates；　on　the　left

of　the　coach…house；　occupying　its　width；　any　large　London　tailor's

or　linendraper's　plate…glass　window　reaching　to　the　ground；　within

the　window；　on　two　rows　of　inclined　plane；　what　the　coach…house　has

to　show；　hanging　above；　like　irregular　stalactites　from　the　roof　of

a　cave；　a　quantity　of　clothes　…　the　clothes　of　the　dead　and　buried

shows　of　the　coach…house。



We　had　been　excited　in　the　highest　degree　by　seeing　the　Custodians

pull　off　their　coats　and　tuck　up　their　shirt…sleeves；　as　the

procession　came　along。　　It　looked　so　interestingly　like　business。

Shut　out　in　the　muddy　street；　we　now　became　quite　ravenous　to　know

all　about　it。　　Was　it　river；　pistol；　knife；　love；　gambling；

robbery；　hatred；　how　many　stabs；　how　many　bullets；　fresh　or

decomposed；　suicide　or　murder？　　All　wedged　together；　and　all

staring　at　one　another　with　our　heads　thrust　forward；　we　propounded

these　inquiries　and　a　hundred　more　such。　　Imperceptibly；　it　came　to

be　known　that　Monsieur　the　tall　and　sallow　mason　yonder；　was

acquainted　with　the　facts。　　Would　Monsieur　the　tall　and　sallow

mason；　surged　at　by　a　new　wave　of　us；　have　the　goodness　to　impart？

It　was　but　a　poor　old　man；　passing　along　the　street　under　one　of

the　new　buildings；　on　whom　a　stone　had　fallen；　and　who　had　tumbled

dead。　　His　age？　　Another　wave　surged　up　against　the　tall　and　sallow

mason；　and　our　wave　swept　on　and　broke；　and　he　was　any　age　from

sixty…five　to　ninety。



An　old　man　was　not　much：　　moreover；　we　could　have　wished　he　had

been　killed　by　human　agency　…　his　own；　or　somebody　else's：　　the

latter；　preferable　…　but　our　comfort　was；　that　he　had　nothing　about

him　to　lead　to　his　identification；　and　that　his　people　must　seek

him　here。　　Perhaps　they　were　waiting　dinner　for　him　even　now？　　We

liked　that。　　Such　of　us　as　had　pocket…handkerchiefs　took　a　slow；

intense；　protracted　wipe　at　our　noses；　and　then　crammed　our

handkerchiefs　into　the　breast　of　our　blouses。　　Others　of　us　who　had

no　handkerchiefs　administered　a　similar　relief　to　our　overwrought

minds；　by　means　of　prolonged　smears　or　wipes　of　our　mouths　on　our

sleeves。　　One　man　with　a　gloomy　malformation　of　brow　…　a　homicidal

worker　in　white…lead；　to　judge　from　his　blue　tone　of　colour；　and　a

certain　flavour　of　paralysis　pervading　him　…　got　his　coat…collar

between　his　teeth；　and　bit　at　it　with　an　appetite。　　Several　decent

women　arrived　upon　the　outskirts　of　the　crowd；　and　prepared　to

launch　themselves　into　the　dismal　coach…house　when　opportunity

should　come；　among　them；　a　pretty　young　mother；　pretending　to　bite

the　forefinger　of　her　baby…boy；　kept　it　between　her　rosy　lips　that

it　might　be　handy　for　guiding　to　point　at　the　show。　　Meantime；　all

faces　were　turned　towards　the　building；　and　we　men　waited　with　a

fixed　and　stern　resolution：…　for　the　most　part　with　folded　arms。

Surely；　it　was　the　only　public　French　sight　these　uncommercial　eyes

had　seen；　at　which　the　expectant　people　did