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the uncommercial traveller-第79部分

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alarmed consideration。  Again; we observed him; with terror; to be

much overcome by our sole's being aired in a temporary retreat

close to him; while the waiter went out (as we conceived) to see

his friends。  And when the curry made its appearance he suddenly

retired in great disorder。



In fine; for the uneatable part of this little dinner (as

contradistinguished from the undrinkable) we paid only seven

shillings and sixpence each。  And Bullfinch and I agreed

unanimously; that no such ill…served; ill…appointed; ill…cooked;

nasty little dinner could be got for the money anywhere else under

the sun。  With that comfort to our backs; we turned them on the

dear old Temeraire; the charging Temeraire; and resolved (in the

Scotch dialect) to gang nae mair to the flabby Temeraire。







CHAPTER XXXIV … MR。 BARLOW







A great reader of good fiction at an unusually early age; it seems

to me as though I had been born under the superintendence of the

estimable but terrific gentleman whose name stands at the head of

my present reflections。  The instructive monomaniac; Mr。 Barlow;

will be remembered as the tutor of Master Harry Sandford and Master

Tommy Merton。  He knew everything; and didactically improved all

sorts of occasions; from the consumption of a plate of cherries to

the contemplation of a starlight night。  What youth came to without

Mr。 Barlow was displayed in the history of Sandford and Merton; by

the example of a certain awful Master Mash。  This young wretch wore

buckles and powder; conducted himself with insupportable levity at

the theatre; had no idea of facing a mad bull single…handed (in

which I think him less reprehensible; as remotely reflecting my own

character); and was a frightful instance of the enervating effects

of luxury upon the human race。



Strange destiny on the part of Mr。 Barlow; to go down to posterity

as childhood's experience of a bore!  Immortal Mr。 Barlow; boring

his way through the verdant freshness of ages!



My personal indictment against Mr。 Barlow is one of many counts。  I

will proceed to set forth a few of the injuries he has done me。



In the first place; he never made or took a joke。  This

insensibility on Mr。 Barlow's part not only cast its own gloom over

my boyhood; but blighted even the sixpenny jest…books of the time;

for; groaning under a moral spell constraining me to refer all

things to Mr。 Barlow; I could not choose but ask myself in a

whisper when tickled by a printed jest; 'What would HE think of it?

What would HE see in it?'  The point of the jest immediately became

a sting; and stung my conscience。  For my mind's eye saw him

stolid; frigid; perchance taking from its shelf some dreary Greek

book; and translating at full length what some dismal sage said

(and touched up afterwards; perhaps; for publication); when he

banished some unlucky joker from Athens。



The incompatibility of Mr。 Barlow with all other portions of my

young life but himself; the adamantine inadaptability of the man to

my favourite fancies and amusements; is the thing for which I hate

him most。  What right had he to bore his way into my Arabian

Nights?  Yet he did。  He was always hinting doubts of the veracity

of Sindbad the Sailor。  If he could have got hold of the Wonderful

Lamp; I knew he would have trimmed it and lighted it; and delivered

a lecture over it on the qualities of sperm…oil; with a glance at

the whale fisheries。  He would so soon have found out … on

mechanical principles … the peg in the neck of the Enchanted Horse;

and would have turned it the right way in so workmanlike a manner;

that the horse could never have got any height into the air; and

the story couldn't have been。  He would have proved; by map and

compass; that there was no such kingdom as the delightful kingdom

of Casgar; on the frontiers of Tartary。  He would have caused that

hypocritical young prig Harry to make an experiment; … with the aid

of a temporary building in the garden and a dummy; … demonstrating

that you couldn't let a choked hunchback down an Eastern chimney

with a cord; and leave him upright on the hearth to terrify the

sultan's purveyor。



The golden sounds of the overture to the first metropolitan

pantomime; I remember; were alloyed by Mr。 Barlow。  Click click;

ting ting; bang bang; weedle weedle weedle; bang!  I recall the

chilling air that ran across my frame and cooled my hot delight; as

the thought occurred to me; 'This would never do for Mr。 Barlow!'

After the curtain drew up; dreadful doubts of Mr。 Barlow's

considering the costumes of the Nymphs of the Nebula as being

sufficiently opaque; obtruded themselves on my enjoyment。  In the

clown I perceived two persons; one a fascinating unaccountable

creature of a hectic complexion; joyous in spirits though feeble in

intellect; with flashes of brilliancy; the other a pupil for Mr。

Barlow。  I thought how Mr。 Barlow would secretly rise early in the

morning; and butter the pavement for HIM; and; when he had brought

him down; would look severely out of his study window and ask HIM

how he enjoyed the fun。



I thought how Mr。 Barlow would heat all the pokers in the house;

and singe him with the whole collection; to bring him better

acquainted with the properties of incandescent iron; on which he

(Barlow) would fully expatiate。  I pictured Mr。 Barlow's

instituting a comparison between the clown's conduct at his

studies; … drinking up the ink; licking his copy…book; and using

his head for blotting…paper; … and that of the already mentioned

young prig of prigs; Harry; sitting at the Barlovian feet;

sneakingly pretending to be in a rapture of youthful knowledge。  I

thought how soon Mr。 Barlow would smooth the clown's hair down;

instead of letting it stand erect in three tall tufts; and how;

after a couple of years or so with Mr。 Barlow; he would keep his

legs close together when he walked; and would take his hands out of

his big loose pockets; and wouldn't have a jump left in him。



That I am particularly ignorant what most things in the universe

are made of; and how they are made; is another of my charges

against Mr。 Barlow。  With the dread upon me of developing into a

Harry; and with a further dread upon me of being Barlowed if I made

inquiries; by bringing down upon myself a cold shower…bath of

explanations and experiments; I forbore enlightenment in my youth;

and became; as they say in melodramas; 'the wreck you now behold。'

That I consorted with idlers and dunces is another of the

melancholy facts for which I hold Mr。 Barlow responsible。  That

pragmatical prig; Harry; became so detestable in my sight; that; he

being reported studious in the South; I would have fled idle to the

extremest North。  Better to learn misconduct from a Master Mash

than science and statistics from a Sandford!  So I took the path;

which; but for Mr。 Barlow; I might never have trodden。  Thought I;

with a shudder; 'Mr。 Barlow is a bore; with an immense constructive

power of making bores。  His prize specimen is a bore。  He seeks to

make a bore of me。  That knowledge is power I am not prepared to

gainsay; but; with Mr。 Barlow; knowledge is power to bore。'

Therefore I took refuge in the caves of ignorance; wherein I have

resided ever since; and which are still my private address。



But the weightiest charge of all my charges against Mr。 Barlow is;

that he still walks the earth in various disguises; seeking to make

a Tommy of me; even in my maturity。  Irrepressible; instructive

monomaniac; Mr。 Barlow fills my life with pitfalls; and lies hiding

at the bottom to burst out upon me when I least expect him。



A few of these dismal experiences of mine shall suffice。



Knowing Mr。 Barlow to have invested largely in the moving panorama

trade; and having on various occasions identified him in the dark

with a long wand in his hand; holding forth in his old way (made

more appalling in this connection by his sometimes cracking a piece

of Mr。 Carlyle's own Dead…Sea fruit in mistake for a joke); I

systematically shun pictorial entertainment on rollers。  Similarly;

I should demand responsible bail and guaranty against the

appearance of Mr。 Barlow; before committing myself to attendance at

any assemblage of my fellow…creatures where a bottle of water and a

note…book were conspicuous objects; for in either of those

associations; I should expressly expect him。  But such is the

designing nature of the man; that he steals in where no reasoning

precaution or provision could expect him。  As in the following

case:…



Adjoining the Caves of Ignorance is a country town。  In this

country town the Mississippi Momuses; nine in number; were

announced to appear in the town…hall; for the general delectation;

this last Christmas week。  Knowing Mr。 Barlow to be unconnected

with the Mississippi; though holding republican opinions; and

deeming myself secure; I took a stall。  My object was to hear and

see the Mississippi Momuses in what the bills described as their

'National ballads; plantation break…downs; nigger part…songs;

choice conundrums; sparkling repartees; &c。'  I found the nine

dressed alike; in the black coat and trousers; white waistcoat;

very large shirt…front; very large shirt…collar; and very large

white tie and wristbands; which constitute the dress of the mass of

the African race; and which has been observed by travellers to

prevail over a vast number of degrees of latitude。  All the nine

rolled their eyes exceedingly; and had very red lips。  At the

extremities of the curve they formed; seated in their chairs; were

the performers on the tambourine and bones。  The centre Momus; a

black of melancholy aspect (who inspired me with a vague uneasiness

for which I could not then account); performed on a Mississippi

instrument closely resembling what was once called in this island a

hurdy…gurdy。  The Momuses on either side of him had each another

instru
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