She reported the visitor. Dad left the table, munching1 some bread, and went out to him. Mother looked out of the door; Sal went to the window; Little Bill and Tom peeped through a crack; Dave remained at his dinner; and Joe knavishly2 seized the opportunity of exploring the table for leavings, finally seating himself in Dad’s place, and commencing where Dad had left off.
“Jury summons,” said the meek3 bailiff, extracting a paper from his breast-pocket, and reading, “Murtagh Joseph Rudd, selector, Shingle4 Hut . . . Correct?”
Dad nodded assent5.
“Got any water?”
There wasn’t a drop in the cask, so Dad came in and asked Mother if there was any tea left. She pulled a long, solemn, Sunday-school face, and looked at Joe, who was holding the teapot upside-down, shaking the tea-leaves into his cup.
“Tea, Dad?” he chuckled6 —“by golly!”
Dad didn’t think it worth while going out to the bailiff again. He sent Joe.
“Not any at all?”
“Nothink,” said Joe.
“H’m! Nulla bona, eh?” And the Law smiled at its own joke and went off thirsty.
Thus it was that Dad came to be away one day when his great presence of mind and ability as a bush doctor was most required at Shingle Hut.
Dave took Dad’s place at the plough. One of the horses — a colt that Dad bought with the money he got for helping7 with Anderson’s crop — had only just been broken. He was bad at starting. When touched with the rein8 he would stand and wait until the old furrow-horse put in a few steps; then plunge9 to get ahead of him, and if a chain or a swingle-tree or something else didn’t break, and Dave kept the plough in, he ripped and tore along in style, bearing in and bearing out, and knocking the old horse about till that much-enduring animal became as cranky as himself, and the pace terrible. Down would go the plough-handles, and, with one tremendous pull on the reins10, Dave would haul them back on to their rumps. Then he would rush up and kick the colt on the root of the tail, and if that didn’t make him put his leg over the chains and kick till he ran a hook into his heel and lamed11 himself, or broke something, it caused him to rear up and fall back on the plough and snort and strain and struggle till there was not a stitch left on him but the winkers.
Now, if Dave was noted12 for one thing more than another it was for his silence. He scarcely ever took the trouble to speak. He hated to be asked a question, and mostly answered by nodding his head. Yet, though he never seemed to practise, he could, when his blood was fairly up, swear with distinction and effect. On this occasion he swore through the whole afternoon without repeating himself.
Towards evening Joe took the reins and began to drive. He hadn’t gone once around when, just as the horses approached a big dead tree that had been left standing13 in the cultivation14, he planted his left foot heavily upon a Bathurst-burr that had been cut and left lying. It clung to him. He hopped15 along on one leg, trying to kick it off; still it clung to him. He fell down. The horses and the tree got mixed up, and everything was confusion.
Dave abused Joe remorselessly. “Go on!” he howled, waving in the air a fistful of grass and weeds which he had pulled from the nose of the plough; “clear out of this altogether! — you’re only a damn nuisance.”
Joe’s eyes rested on the fistful of grass. They lit up suddenly.
“L-l-look out, Dave,” he stuttered; “y’-y’ got a s-s-snake.”
Dave dropped the grass promptly16. A deaf-adder17 crawled out of it. Joe killed it. Dave looked closely at his hand, which was all scratches and scars. He looked at it again; then he sat on the beam of the plough, pale and miserable-looking.
“D-d-did it bite y’, Dave?” No answer.
Joe saw a chance to distinguish himself, and took it. He ran home, glad to be the bearer of the news, and told Mother that “Dave’s got bit by a adder — a sudden-death adder — right on top o’ the finger.”
How Mother screamed! “My God! whatever shall we do? Run quick,” she said, “and bring Mr. Maloney. Dear! oh dear! oh dear!”
Joe had not calculated on this injunction. He dropped his head and said sullenly18: “Wot, walk all the way over there?”
Before he could say another word a tin-dish left a dinge on the back of his skull19 that will accompany him to his grave if he lives to be a thousand.
“You wretch20, you! Why don’t you run when I tell you?”
Joe sprang in the air like a shot wallaby.
“I’ll not go AT ALL now — y’ see!” he answered, starting to cry. Then Sal put on her hat and ran for Maloney.
Meanwhile Dave took the horses out, walked inside, and threw himself on the sofa without uttering a word. He felt ill.
Mother was in a paroxysm of fright. She threw her arms about frantically21 and cried for someone to come. At last she sat down and tried to think what she could do. She thought of the very thing, and ran for the carving-knife, which she handed to Dave with shut eyes. He motioned her with a disdainful movement of the elbow to take it away.
Would Maloney never come! He was coming, hat in hand, and running for dear life across the potato-paddock. Behind him was his man. Behind his man — Sal, out of breath. Behind her, Mrs. Maloney and the children.
“Phwat’s the thrubble?” cried Maloney. “Bit be a dif — adher? O, be the tares22 of war!” Then he asked Dave numerous questions as to how it happened, which Joe answered with promptitude and pride. Dave simply shrugged23 his shoulders and turned his face to the wall. Nothing was to be got out of him.
Maloney held a short consultation24 with himself. Then —“Hould up yer hand!” he said, bending over Dave with a knife. Dave thrust out his arm violently, knocked the instrument to the other side of the room, and kicked wickedly.
“The pison’s wurrkin’,” whispered Maloney quite loud.
“Oh, my gracious!” groaned25 Mother.
“The poor crathur,” said Mrs. Maloney.
There was a pause.
“Phwhat finger’s bit?” asked Maloney. Joe thought it was the littlest one of the lot.
He approached the sofa again, knife in hand.
“Show me yer finger,” he said to Dave.
For the first time Dave spoke26. He said:
“Damn y’— what the devil do y’ want? Clear out and lea’ me ’lone.”
Maloney hesitated. There was a long silence. Dave commenced breathing heavily.
“It’s maikin’ ’m slape,” whispered Maloney, glancing over his shoulder at the women.
“Don’t let him! Don’t let him!” Mother wailed27.
“Salvation to ’s all!” muttered Mrs. Maloney, piously28 crossing herself.
Maloney put away the knife and beckoned29 to his man, who was looking on from the door. They both took a firm hold of Dave and stood him upon his feet. He looked hard and contemptuously at Maloney for some seconds. Then with gravity and deliberation Dave said: “Now wot ’n th’ devil are y’ up t’? Are y’ mad?”
“Walk ’m along, Jaimes — walk ’m — along,” was all Maloney had to say. And out into the yard they marched him. How Dave did struggle to get away! — swearing and cursing Maloney for a cranky Irishman till he foamed30 at the mouth, all of which the other put down to snake-poison. Round and round the yard and up and down it they trotted31 him till long after dark, until there wasn’t a struggle left in him.
They placed him on the sofa again, Maloney keeping him awake with a strap32. How Dave ground his teeth and kicked and swore whenever he felt that strap! And they sat and watched him.
It was late in the night when Dad came from town. He staggered in with the neck of a bottle showing out of his pocket. In his hand was a piece of paper wrapped round the end of some yards of sausage. The dog outside carried the other end.
“An’ ’e ishn’t dead?” Dad said, after hearing what had befallen Dave. “Don’ b’leevsh id — wuzhn’t bit. Die ’fore shun’own ifsh desh ad’er bish ’m.”
“Bit!” Dave said bitterly, turning round to the surprise of everyone. “I never said I was BIT. No one said I was — only those snivelling idiots and that pumpkin-headed Irish pig there.”
Maloney lowered his jaw33 and opened his eyes.
“Zhackly. Did’n’ I (HIC) shayzo, ’Loney? Did’n’ I, eh, ol’ wom’n!” Dad mumbled34, and dropped his chin on his chest.
Maloney began to take another view of the matter. He put a leading question to Joe.
“He MUSTER35 been bit,” Joe answered, “’cuz he had the d-death adder in his hand.”
More silence.
“Mush die ’fore shun’own,” Dad murmured.
Maloney was thinking hard. At last he spoke. “Bridgy!” he cried, “where’s th’ childer?” Mrs. Maloney gathered them up.
Just then Dad seemed to be dreaming. He swayed about. His head hung lower, and he muttered, “Shen’l’m’n, yoush disharged wish shanksh y’cun’ry.”
The Maloneys left.
Dave is still alive and well, and silent as ever; and if any one question is more intolerable and irritating to him than another, it is to be asked if he remembers the time he was bitten by deaf-adder.
点击收听单词发音
1 munching | |
v.用力咀嚼(某物),大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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2 knavishly | |
adv.恶棍地,不正地 | |
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3 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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4 shingle | |
n.木瓦板;小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌);v.用木瓦板盖(屋顶);把(女子头发)剪短 | |
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5 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
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6 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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8 rein | |
n.疆绳,统治,支配;vt.以僵绳控制,统治 | |
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9 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
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10 reins | |
感情,激情; 缰( rein的名词复数 ); 控制手段; 掌管; (成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的)保护带 | |
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11 lamed | |
希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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12 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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13 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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14 cultivation | |
n.耕作,培养,栽培(法),养成 | |
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15 hopped | |
跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 ); 单足蹦跳; 齐足(或双足)跳行; 摘葎草花 | |
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16 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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17 adder | |
n.蝰蛇;小毒蛇 | |
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18 sullenly | |
不高兴地,绷着脸,忧郁地 | |
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19 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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20 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
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21 frantically | |
ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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22 tares | |
荑;稂莠;稗 | |
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23 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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24 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
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25 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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26 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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27 wailed | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28 piously | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
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29 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30 foamed | |
泡沫的 | |
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31 trotted | |
小跑,急走( trot的过去分词 ); 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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32 strap | |
n.皮带,带子;v.用带扣住,束牢;用绷带包扎 | |
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33 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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34 mumbled | |
含糊地说某事,叽咕,咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35 muster | |
v.集合,收集,鼓起,激起;n.集合,检阅,集合人员,点名册 | |
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