小说园

第36章 让心灵去旅行12（第1页）

andback，lease！”hetrainwasabouttostart，andIwavedfarewelltomyfriend。LeRosdidnotstandback。HestoodclasinginbothhandsthehandsoftheyoungAmerican。“Standback，sir，lease！”heobeyed，butquicklydartedforwardagaintowhisersomefinalword。Ithinkthereweretearsinhereyes。Therecertainlyweretearsinhiswhen，atlength，havingwatchedthetrainoutofsight，heturnedround。Heseemed，nevertheless，delightedtoseeme。HeaskedmewhereIhadbeenhidingalltheseyears；andsimultaneouslyreaidmethehalf-crownasthoughithadbeenborrowedyesterday。Helinkedhisarminmine，andwalkedwithmeslowlyalongthelatform，sayingwithwhatleasurehereadmydramaticcriticismseverySaturday。

Itoldhim，inreturn，howmuchhewasmissedonthestage。“Ah，yes，”hesaid，“Ineveractonthestagenowadays。”Helaidsomeemhasisontheword“stage。”andIaskedhimwhere，then，hedidact。“Onthelatform，”heanswered。“Youmean，”saidI，“thatyoureciteatconcerts？”Hesmiled。“This，”hewhisered，strikinghisstickontheground，“isthelatformImean。”Hadhismysteriousroserityunhingedhim？Helookedquitesane。Ibeggedhimtobemoreexlicit。

“Isuose，”hesaidresently，givingmealightforthecigarwhichhehadofferedme，“Youhavebeenseeingafriendoff？Iassented。HeaskedmewhatIsuosedhehadbeendoing。IsaidthatIhadwatchedhimdoingthesamething。“No，”hesaidgravely。“Thatladywasnotafriendofmine。Imetherforthefirsttimethismorning，lessthanhalfanhourago，here。”andagainhestruckthelatformwithhisstick。

IconfessedthatIwasbewildered。Hesmiled。“Youmay，”hesaid，“haveheardoftheAnglo-AmericanSocialBureau？Ihadnot。HeexlainedtomethatofthethousandsofAmericanswhoannuallyassthroughEnglandtherearemanyhundredswhohavenoEnglishfriends。Intheolddaystheyusedtobringlettersofintroduction。ButtheEnglisharesoinhositablethattheselettersarehardlyworththeaertheyarewrittenon。”Thus，“aidLeRos，”theA。A。S。B。suliesalong-feltwant。Americansareasociableeole，andmostofthemhavelentyofmoneytosend。TheA。A。S。B。suliesthemwithEnglishfriends。Fiftyercentofthefeesisaidovertothefriends。TheotherfiftyisretainedbytheA。A。S。B。Iamnot，alas！Adirector。IfIwere，Ishouldbeaveryrichmanindeed。Iamonlyanemloyee。ButevensoIdoverywell。Iamoneoftheseers-off。

AgainIaskedforenlightenment。“ManyAmericans，”hesaid，“cannotaffordtokeefriendsinEngland。Buttheycanallaffordtobeseenoff。Thefeeisonlyfiveounds（twenty-fivedollars）forasingletraveller；andeightounds（fortydollars）foraartyoftwoormore。TheysendthatintotheBureau，givingthedateoftheirdearture，andadescritionbywhichtheseer-offcanidentifythemonthelatform。Andthen—well，thentheyareseenoff。”

“Butisitworth”Iexclaimed。“Ofcourseitisworthit，”saidLeRos。“Itreventsthemfromfeeling‘Outofit。’Itearnsthemtheresectoftheguard。Itsavesthemfrombeingdesisedbytheirfellow-assengers—theeolewhoaregoingtobeontheboat。Itgivesthemafootingforthewholevoyage。Besides，itisagreatleasureinitself。Yousawmeseeingthatyoungladyoff。Didn’tyouthinkIdiditbeautifully？”“Beautifully，”Iadmitted。“Ienviedyou。TherewasI—”“Yes，Icanimagine。Therewereyou，shufflingfromheadtofoot，staringblanklyatyourfriend，tryingtomakeconversation。Iknow。That’showIusedtobemyself，beforeIstudied，andwentintothethingrofessionally。Idon’tsayI’merfectyet。I’mstillamartyrtolatformfright。Arailwaystationisthemostdifficultofalllacestoactin，asyouhavediscoveredforyourself。”“But，”Isaidwithresentment，“Iwasn’ttryingtoact。Ireallyfelt。”“sodidI，myboy，”aidLeRos。“Youcan’tactwithoutfeeling。What’s-his-name，theFrenchman—Diderot，yes—saidyoucould；butwhatdidheknowaboutit？Don’tyouseethosetearsinmyeyeswhenthetrainstarted？Ihadn’tforcedthem。ItellyouIwasmoved。Sowereyou，Idaresay。Butyoucouldn’thaveumeduateartoroveit。Youcan’texressyourfeelings。Inotherwords，youcan’tact。Atanyrate，”headdedkindly，“notinarailwaystation。”“Teachme！”cried。Helookedthoughtfullyatme。“Well，”hesaidatlength，“theseeing-offseasonisracticallyover。Yes，I’llgiveyouacourse。Ihaveagoodmanyuilsonhandalready；butyes，”hesaid，consultinganornatenotebook，“IcouldgiveyouanhouronTuesdaysandFridays。”

Histerms，Iconfess，areratherhigh。ButIdon’tgrudgetheinvestment。

冬日漫步

AWinterWalk

亨利·大卫·梭罗

HenryDavidThoreau

Thewindhasgentlymurmuredthroughtheblinds，oruffedwithfeatherysoftnessagainstthewindows，andoccasionallysighedlikeasummerzehyrliftingtheleavesalong，thelivelongnight。Themeadowmousehassletinhissnuggalleryinthesod，theowlhassatinahollowtreeinthedethoftheswam，therabbit，thesquirrel，andthefoxhaveallbeenhoused。Thewatch-doghaslainquietonthehearth，andthecattlehavestoodsilentintheirstalls。Theearthitselfhasslet，asitwereitsfirst，notitslastslee，savewhensomestreetsignorwoodhousedoorhasfaintlycreakeduonitshinge，cheeringforlornnatureathermidnightwork—theonlysoundawaketwixtVenusandMars—advertisingusofaremoteinwardwarmth，adivinecheerandfellowshi，wheregodsaremettogether，butwhereitisverybleakformentostand。Butwhiletheearthhasslumbered，alltheairhasbeenalivewithfeatheryflakesdescending，asifsomenorthernCeresreigned，showeringhersilverygrainoverallthefields。