Before she married Simmons, Mrs. Simmons had been the widowed Mrs. Ford4. Ford had got a berth5 as donkeyman on a tramp steamer, and that steamer had gone down with all hands off the cape6 — a judgment7, the widow woman feared, for long years of contumacy which had culminated8 in the wickedness of taking to the sea, and taking to it as a donkeyman, an immeasurable fall for a capable engine-fitter. Twelve years as Mrs. Ford had left her still childless, and childless she remained as Mrs. Simmons.
As for Simmons, he, it was held, was fortunate in that capable wife. He was a moderately good carpenter and joiner, but no man of the world, and he wanted to be one. Nobody could tell what might not have happened to Tommy Simmons if there had been no Mrs. Simmons to take care of him. He was a meek9 and quiet man, with a boyish face and sparse10, limp whiskers. He had no vices11 (even his pipe departed him after his marriage), and Mrs. Simmons had ingrafted on him divers12 exotic virtues13. He went solemnly to chapel14 every Sunday, under a tall hat, and put a penny — one returned to him for the purpose out of his week’s wages — in the plate. Then, Mrs. Simmons overseeing, he took off his best clothes and brushed them with solicitude15 and pains. On Saturday afternoons he cleaned the knives, the forks, the boots, the kettles and the windows, patiently and conscientiously16. On Tuesday evenings he took the clothes to the mangling17. And on Saturday nights he attended Mrs. Simmons in her marketing18, to carry the parcels.
Mrs. Simmons’s own virtues were native and numerous. She was a wonderful manager. Every penny of Tommy’s thirty-six or thirty-eight shillings a week was bestowed19 to the greatest advantage, and Tommy never ventured to guess how much of it she saved. Her cleanliness in housewifery was distracting to behold20. She met Simmons at the front door whenever he came home, and then and there he changed his boots for slippers21, balancing himself painfully on alternate feet on the cold flags. This was because she scrubbed the passage and doorstep turn about with the wife of the down-stairs family, and because the stair-carpet was her own. She vigilantly22 supervised her husband all through the process of “cleaning himself” after work, so as to come between her walls and the possibility of random23 splashes; and if, in spite of her diligence, a spot remained to tell the tale, she was at pains to impress the fact on Simmons’s memory, and to set forth24 at length all the circumstances of his ungrateful selfishness. In the beginning she had always escorted him to the ready-made clothes shop, and had selected and paid for his clothes — for the reason that man are such perfect fools, and shopkeepers do as they like with them. But she presently improved on that. She found a man selling cheap remnants at a street corner, and straightway she conceived the idea of making Simmons’s clothes herself. Decision was one of her virtues, and a suit of uproarious check tweeds was begun that afternoon from the pattern furnished by an old one. More: it was finished by Sunday, when Simmons, overcome by astonishment25 at the feat26, was indued in it, and pushed off to chapel ere he could recover his senses. The things were not altogether comfortable, he found; the trousers clung tight against his shins, but hung loose behind his heels; and when he sat, it was on a wilderness27 of hard folds and seams. Also his waistcoat collar tickled28 his nape, but his coat collar went straining across from shoulder to shoulder, while the main garment bagged generously below his waist. Use made a habit of his discomfort29, but it never reconciled him to the chaff30 of his shopmates; for as Mr. Simmons elaborated successive suits, each one modeled on the last, the primal31 accidents of her design developed into principles, and grew even bolder and more hideously32 pronounced. It was vain for Simmons to hint — as hint he did — that he shouldn’t like her to overwork herself, tailoring being bad for the eyes, and there was a new tailor’s in the Mile End Road, very cheap, where . . . “Ho yus,” she retorted, “you’re very consid’rit I dessay sittin’ there actin’ a livin’ lie before your own wife Thomas Simmons as though I couldn’t see through you like a book a lot you care about overworkin’ me as long as your turn’s served throwin’ away money like dirt in the street on a lot o’ swindling’ tailors an’ me workin’ an’ slavin’ ’ere to save a ‘apenny an’ this is my return for it any one ‘ud think you could pick up money in the ‘orseroad an’ I b’lieve I’d be thought better of if I laid in bed all day like some would that I do.” So that Thomas Simmons avoided the subject, nor even murmured when she resolved to cut his hair.
So his placid33 fortune endured for years. Then there came a golden summer evening when Mrs. Simmons betook herself with a basket to do some small shopping, and Simmons was left at home. He washed and put away the tea-things, and then he fell to meditating34 on a new pair of trousers, finished that day and hanging behind the parlor35 door. There they hung, in all their decent innocence36 of shape in the seat, and they were shorter of leg, longer of waist, and wilder of pattern than he had ever worn before. And as he looked on them the small devil of original sin awoke and clamored in his breast. He was ashamed of it, of course, for well he knew the gratitude37 he owed his wife for those same trousers, among other blessings38. Still, there the small devil was, and the small devil was fertile in base suggestions, and could not be kept from hinting at the new crop of workshop gibes39 that would spring at Tommy’s first public appearance in such things.
“Pitch ’em in the dust-bin40!” said the small devil, at last; “it’s all they’re fit for.”
Simmons turned away in sheer horror of his wicked self, and for a moment thought of washing the tea-things over again by way of discipline. Then he made for the back room, but saw from the landing that the front door was standing41 open, probably by the fault of the child down-stairs. Now, a front door standing open was a thing that Mrs. Simmons would not abide42; it looked low. So Simmons went down, that she might not be wroth with him for the thing when she came back; and, as he shut the door, he looked forth into the street.
A man was loitering on the pavement, and prying43 curiously44 about the door. His face was tanned, his hands were deep in the pockets of his unbraced blue trousers, and well back on his head he wore the high-crowned peaked cap topped with a knob of wool, which is affected45 by Jack46 ashore47 about the docks. He lurched a step nearer to the door, and: “Mrs. Ford ain’t in, is she?” he said.
Simmons stared at him for a matter of five seconds, and then said: “Eh?”
“Mrs. Ford as was, then — Simmons now, ain’t it?”
He said this with a furtive48 leer that Simmons neither liked nor understood.
“No,” said Simmons, “she ain’t in now.”
“You ain’t her ‘usband, are ye?”
“Yus.”
The man took his pipe from his mouth, and grinned silently and long. “Blimy,” he said, at length, “you look the sort o’ bloke she’d like.” And with that he grinned again. Then, seeing that Simmons made ready to shut the door, he put a foot on the sill and a hand against the panel. “Don’t be in a ‘urry, matey,” he said; “I come ’ere t’ave a little talk with you, man to man, d’ye see?” And he frowned fiercely.
Tommy Simmons felt uncomfortable, but the door would not shut, so he parleyed. “Wotjer want?” he asked. “I dunno you.”
“Then if you’ll excuse the liberty, I’ll interdooce meself, in a manner of speaking.” He touched his cap with a bob of mock humility49. “I’m Bob Ford,” he said, “come back out o’ kingdom-come, so to say. Me as went down with the ‘Mooltan’— safe dead five years gone. I come to see my wife.”
During this speech Thomas Simmons’s jaw50 was dropping lower and lower. At the end of it he poked51 his fingers up through his hair, looked down at the mat, then up at the fanlight, then out into the street, then hard at his visitor. But he found nothing to say.
“Come to see my wife,” the man repeated. “So now we can talk it over — as man to man.”
Simmons slowly shut his mouth, and led the way upstairs mechanically, his fingers still in his hair. A sense of the state of affairs sunk gradually into his brain, and the small devil woke again. Suppose this man was Ford? Suppose he did claim his wife? Would it be a knock-down blow? Would it hit him out? — or not? He thought of the trousers, the tea-things, the mangling, the knives, the kettles and the window; and he thought of them in the way of a backslider.
On the landing Ford clutched at his arm, and asked, in a hoarse52 whisper: “‘Ow long ‘fore she’s back?”
“‘Bout a hour, I expect,” Simmons replied, having first of all repeated the question in his own mind. And then he opened the parlor door.
“Ah,” said Ford, looking about him, “you’ve bin pretty comf’table. Them chairs an’ things”— jerking his pipe toward them —“was hers — mine, that is to say, speaking straight, and man to man.” He sat down, puffing53 meditatively54 at his pipe, and presently: “Well,” he continued, “’ere I am agin, ol’ Bob Ford dead an’ done for — gawn down in the ‘Mooltan.’ On’y I ain’t done for, see?”— and he pointed55 the stem of his pipe at Simmons’s waistcoat —“I ain’t done for, ‘cause why? Cons’kence o’ bein’ picked up by a ol’ German sailin’-‘utch an’ took to ‘Frisco ‘fore the mast. I’ve ‘ad a few years o’ knockin’ about since then, an’ now”— looking hard at Simmons —“I’ve come back to see my wife.”
“She — she don’t like smoke in ’ere,” said Simmons, as it were, at random.
“No, I bet she don’t,” Ford answered, taking his pipe from his mouth, and holding it low in his hand. “I know ‘Anner. ‘Ow d’you find ‘er? Do she make ye clean the winders?”
“Well,” Simmons admitted, uneasily, I— I do ‘elp ‘er sometimes, o’ course.”
“Ah! An’ the knives too, I bet, an’ the bloomin’ kittles. I know. Wy”— he rose and bent56 to look behind Simmons’s head —“s’elp me, I b’lieve she cuts yer ‘air! Well, I’m damned! Jes’ wot she would do, too.”
He inspected the blushing Simmons from divers points of vantage. Then he lifted a leg of the trousers hanging behind the door. “I’d bet a trifle,” he said, “she made these ’ere trucks. Nobody else ‘ud do ’em like that. Damme — they’re wuss’n wot you’re got on.”
The small devil began to have the argument all its own way. If this man took his wife back, perhaps he’d have to wear those trousers.
“Ah!” Ford pursued, “she ain’t got no milder. An’ my davy, wot a jore!”
Simmons began to feel that this was no longer his business. Plainly, ‘Anner was this other man’s wife, and he was bound in honor to acknowledge the fact. The small devil put it to him as a matter of duty.
“Well,” said Ford, suddenly, “time’s short, an’ this ain’t business. I won’t be ‘ard on you, matey. I ought prop’ly to stand on my rights, but seein’ as you’re a well-meanin’ young man, so to speak, an’ all settled an’ a-livin ’ere quiet an’ matrimonual, I’ll”— this with a burst of generosity57 —“damme, yus, I’ll compound the felony, an’ take me ‘ook. Come, I’ll name a figure, as man to man, fust an’ last, no less an’ no more. Five pound does it.”
Simmons hadn’t five pounds — he hadn’t even five pence — and he said so. “An’ I wouldn’t think for to come between a man an’ ‘is wife,” he added, “not on no account. It may be rough on me, but it’s a dooty. I’ll ‘ook it.”
“No,” said Ford, hastily, clutching Simmons by the arm, “don’t do that. I’ll make it a bit cheaper. Say three quid — come, that’s reasonable, ain’t it? Three quid ain’t much compensation for me goin’ away forever — where the stormy winds do blow, so to say — an’ never as much as seein’ me own wife agin for better nor wuss. Between man an’ man now — three quid; an’ I’ll shunt. That’s fair, ain’t it?”
“Of course it’s fair,” Simmons replied, effusively58. “It’s more’n fair; it’s noble — downright noble, I call it. But I ain’t goin’ to take a mean advantage o’ your good-‘artedness, Mr. Ford. She’s your wife, an’ I oughtn’t to ‘a’ come between you. I apologize. You stop an’ ‘ave yer proper rights. It’s me as ought to shunt, an’ I will.” And he made a step toward the door.
“‘Old on,” quoth Ford, and got between Simmons and the door; “don’t do things rash. Look wot a loss it’ll be to you with no ‘ome to go to, an’ nobody to look after ye, an’ all that. It’ll be dreadful. Say a couple — there, we won’t quarrel, jest a single quid, between man an’ man, an’ I’ll stand a pot o’ the money.
“You can easy raise a quid — the clock ‘ud pretty nigh do it. A quid does it; an’ I’ll —”
There was a loud double-knock at the front door. In the East End a double-knock is always for the upstairs lodgers59.
“Oo’s that?” asked Bob Ford, apprehensively60.
“I’ll see,” said Thomas Simmons in reply, and he made a rush for the staircase.
Bob Ford heard him open the front door. Then he went to the window, and just below him, he saw the crown of a bonnet61. It vanished, and borne to him from within the door there fell upon his ear the sound of a well-remembered female voice.
“Where ye goin’ now with no ‘at?” asked the voice, sharply.
“Awright, ‘Anner — there’s — there’s somebody upstairs to see you,” Simmons answered. And, as Bob Ford could see, a man went scuttling62 down the street in the gathering63 dusk. And behold, it was Thomas Simmons.
Ford reached the landing in three strides. His wife was still at the front door, staring after Simmons. He flung into the back room, threw open the window, dropped from the wash-house roof into the back-yard, scrambled64 desperately65 over the fence, and disappeared into the gloom. He was seen by no living soul. And that is why Simmons’s base desertion — under his wife’s very eyes, too — is still an astonishment to the neighbors.
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收听单词发音
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1
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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2
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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3
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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5
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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7
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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8
culminated
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| v.达到极点( culminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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10
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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11
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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12
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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13
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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14
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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15
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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16
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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17
mangling
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| 重整 | |
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18
marketing
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| n.行销，在市场的买卖，买东西 | |
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19
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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21
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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22
vigilantly
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| adv.警觉地，警惕地 | |
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23
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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24
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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25
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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26
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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27
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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28
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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29
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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30
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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31
primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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32
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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33
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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34
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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35
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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36
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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37
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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38
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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39
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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40
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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41
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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42
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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43
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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44
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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45
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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46
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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47
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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48
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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49
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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50
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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51
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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52
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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53
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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54
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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55
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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56
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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57
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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58
effusively
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| adv.变溢地，热情洋溢地 | |
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59
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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60
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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61
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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62
scuttling
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| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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63
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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64
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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65
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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