When Bob had finished a description of Captain Joe Romano and of the Anclote Club, his mother at once vetoed a membership in the latter body. But the boy expected this, and in a short time, with many arguments, he had made the prohibition2 conditional3. When Mrs. Balfour said she “would see about it,” Bob knew the worst was over.
Mrs. Balfour had plans for a little tour of her own in the shopping district, in which her son was to be a guide. And Bob was now too much concerned with his afternoon program to urge very strongly the launch ride on the bay. As his mother seemed to have forgotten this program as outlined the previous day, he did not revive it.
While Mrs. Balfour and the landlady4 fell to discussing desirable “French organdies” for sale in a certain shop, Bob decided5 to begin the day with an examination of the boarding house premises6. A shell walk led around the house. In the rear, on each side of a deep, wide lot, were low, white buildings. Their roofs were green, with moss7-covered shingles8, while three wide-spreading oaks between them were garlanded with long strands9 of sombre but picturesque10 Spanish moss. The kitchen yard beneath the oaks was of hard packed earth. In one of the buildings, Bob heard a colored woman’s voice.
The odor of coffee, the soft sizzle of something frying, and the sharp clatter11 of dishes told him it came from the kitchen, isolated12 as usual in southern homes from the dwelling13 house. The woman seemed in a critical mood, to say the least. As Bob stopped to watch a scurrying14 fat hen, he could not avoid hearing what the unseen speaker was saying.
“What yo’ done wid dat two bits I done guv you day befo’ yistiday?”
There was an undistinguishable reply.
“Yo’s a liah, yo’ good fo’ nothin’ loafin’ niggah. Los’ it? How yo’ gwine lose a piece o’ real money? Dat two bits nevah git cole in[34] yo’ pocket. Craps—das what. Ef de money goes wid craps, let it come back wid craps. No sah, not a nickel.”
There was a feminine sob15 or two, but they did not sound real.
“Yo’ reckon Miss Franko’s gwine feed yo’ eber day? No sah! Go long now, boy. Yo’ ole mammy ain’t no use fo’ no crap shooters. An’ Miss Franko ain’t nuther. She sho skin yo’ ef she fin’ yo’ snoopin’ roun’ hyar.”
There was a gurgle as of some one drinking, and then the other person said:
“Yo’ done ’sult me, mammy. I’se gwine ’way to stay. Yo’ ain’t goin’ to see me no mo’.”
The other grunted17. “Huh! You’ all don’ go no furder ’an you’ kin16 walk. An’ ah reckon de tas’ o’ dat meat an’ coffee’ll be gone by to-morrer.”
“Yo’ don’ know what I’se gwine to do,” retorted the other speaker. “I’se got a job.”
“Yo’ got a job?” snorted the woman. “Ain’t dat sun hu’t yo’ haid, chile?”
“Marse Tom Allen allows he ain’t gwine campin’ dis spring lessen18 I goes wid him. Das all.”
Bob started. Tom Allen! That was his new friend. This must be Jerry Blossom. Bob advanced[35] to the end of the yard. Pretending to examine the chickens, he turned back toward the house, and, as he did so, had his first sight of Jerry. A colored boy, heavy for his height, and perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old, was coming jauntily19 toward the gate in the rear, intently examining a silver dollar.
“Hello, Jerry,” exclaimed Bob.
“Mawnin’, sah,” answered the boy, touching20 his hat. “Fine mawnin’, sah,” he added hastily pocketing his coin. “Ah yo’ a boada hyah, sah?” he continued.
Bob nodded his head. Beyond question, the colored boy was decked in garments inherited from older persons of various tastes. His hat was too small, and his white shirt too large. He wore neither coat nor vest, and his shirt sleeves were held up with brass21 sleeve holders22. His trousers, a loud black and white check, were hitched23 far toward his shoulders with most intricate and complicated suspenders. This, however, did not prevent their frayed24 ends from trailing behind Jerry’s shoes. These were of patent leather, worn and cracked, with gray cloth tops and large white bone buttons.
“Yes,” said Bob, with a smile, “I’m a[36] boarder here. I’m goin’ to be here several months. Do you live with Mrs. Franko?”
“No, sah,” replied Jerry, promptly25. “No, sah. Not prezackly—not now. Ah used to be a waitah hyah, but Miss Franko an’ me we done have a fallin’ out.”
Bob already had an idea. Jerry didn’t know him. Why not utilize26 the black boy to pick up a little information?
“Haven’t you got a job now?” continued Bob.
“Me?” replied Jerry. “Sure, Ah has got a job. Ah wuk reg’lar ebery year—sometimes.”
“What are you doin’ now?” went on Bob.
“Well, sah,” replied Jerry, throwing out his chest, “Ah is what yo’ call a chef—dat means a cook, speakin’ common. Dey is a few rich gemmen in dis city ’at won’t eat no cookin’ ’ceptin’ mine. Dey constitute sah, what’s called de Anclote Club.”
“Oh, I see,” commented Bob. “I suppose it’s one of those rich country clubs.”
“Yas, sah,” continued Jerry. “Ah reckon it is about de riches’ club in de south. Ah has hearn tell dey ain’t nothin’ in de north kin tech de Anclote club house fo’ bigness an’ costiveness.”
“Must be pretty fine,” said Bob, without a smile. “And so you are the chef of this club.”
“Dat’s my reg’lar job,” answered Jerry. “O’ course, outen de club season, Ah has othah business.”
“What’s that?” asked Bob relentlessly27.
“Well, sah, recently Ah was assistant janitor28 down to de Creole Coffee House. But Ah is restin’ now, preliminahy to my wuk at de club.”
“Then the club isn’t open at present?”
“We open day after to-morrer, Friday. Mos’ ob de membahs ah engaged in de banks and de countin’ houses till de end ob de week. Ef yo’ ’ll ’scuse me, I mus’ now has’en on as Ah have an appintment to engage some ob my assistants.”
Bob could not refrain from laughing.
“Wha’ fo’ yo’ laffin at, boy?” exclaimed Jerry.
“I’m laughing at you, Jerry. I’m onto you. I know about the Anclote Club, and I know some of its members. Tom Allen is my friend.”
The inflated29 Jerry collapsed30 like a pricked31 toy balloon. But he made a feeble stand.
“Ah is de cook,” he blustered32.
“I know,” said Bob. “It’s all right. I’m not going to say anything about it. Now tell[38] me about the real club; where it is, and what you do.”
By following the still alarmed Jerry out into the back street to a convenient seat on the curb33, Bob coaxed34 out of him the history of the club a membership in which he was a candidate. By the time Bob rejoined his mother ready for her shopping tour, he was poorer in money by a quarter, but considerably35 richer in information.
It was tedious work shifting from one foot to another while his mother leisurely36 looked over organdies and summer silks, and it required the bracing37 influence of two surreptitious lemon phosphates. At last, about half past ten o’clock, Bob got his mother on a street car and they went to the Long Wharf38. It was hot, and, somewhat over her protest, the boy persuaded his parent to accompany him in search of Captain Joe.
The first sight of the Three Sisters schooner39, freshly scrubbed and resplendent in its spring coat of green and blue paint, was reward to Mrs. Balfour and Bob for the hot walk on the long, fishy40, crowded pier41. Captain Joe, pipe in mouth, was lounging on the dock.
The fishing excursion was out of the question, but Mrs. Balfour—somewhat to Bob’s surprise—at[39] once acquiesced42 in Captain Joe’s proposal that she and her son go for an hour’s sail. The boat was roomy and substantial, and the ease with which the old red-girdled sailor handled his spread of canvas reassured43 Mrs. Balfour. As the Three Sisters heeled over and slid out into the rippling44 harbor, its feminine passenger even gave a little exclamation45 of delight.
After a half hour’s sail out soundward, the Three Sisters came about. With several short tacks46, Bob almost on the bowsprit to enjoy the zest47 of the salt spray (despite his mother’s half-hearted protests), Captain Joe laid over on his last haul for the wharf landing. Then came the accident that turned the pleasure sail into a catastrophe48.
As the little schooner sped gallantly49 forward, all on board had busied themselves watching a heavily laden50 tramp steamer making seaward. She had loaded with lumber51 at a private dock, her bow shoreward, and a puffing52 little tug53 had just finished heading her out into the bay. The Three Sisters was well to starboard, but, the steamer being just under way, Captain Joe, it could be seen, would pass close astern.
At the moment when the swell54 from the steamer’s screw first struck the Three Sisters[40] and the lumber tramp’s rusty55 red sides rose almost above the swiftly scudding56 schooner, a little leg o’ mutton rigged boat shot across the big boat’s stern. The fragile craft had been concealed57 from Captain Joe by the hull58 of the steamer. Who ever was in the approaching boat was apparently59 unaware60 of the impending61 collision, as the occupant was out of sight behind the sail.
Captain Joe, astern at the helm, could escape the little boat only by falling further off the wind and that meant a collision with the steamer stern or its low-hanging starboard boat. With a shout of warning, he took one quick glance at Mrs. Balfour and hesitated. The moment was long enough to bring about the threatened collision.
Mrs. Balfour screamed and caught Captain Joe’s arm. Bob, still astride the bowsprit, threw his legs backward onto the deck, and, grasping a stay, lunged downward in an effort to fend62 off the little boat. But, as he did so, a full swell from the now rapidly churning screw of the steamer caught the schooner and lifted it on a foamy63 crest65. Checked in its course, the heavy schooner hung for a moment, its sails flattening66, and then, almost jibing67, pounded downward[41] into the eddying68 swirl69 and smashed the slender mast of the cockle shell crossing its bowsprit.
There was another piercing scream from Mrs. Balfour, and Captain Joe threw the schooner into the wind. Its sails flapping, he sprang forward to the wreckage70. Quickly as he did so, Bob beat him, and as the bronzed seaman71 saw the boy throw himself overboard, he caught up a line and ran out on the bowsprit. A moment later, the captain of the Three Sisters was in the bob stays with firm grips on the unconscious sailor of the wrecked72 boat and the white-faced Bob.
In truth, Bob’s physical ailment73 had been largely caused by his overindulgence in indoor aquatics74. He had twice been a candidate for a place in the Y. M. C. A. polo team, and he had plunged75 into the foam64 of Pensacola Bay with no more fear than if he were starting on a game in the tank.
He had not stopped to consider the handicap of a full suit of clothes, minus his coat which he had laid aside because of the summery sun, and it was too late to do so after he sprang overboard.
He had caught only a glimpse of a boy, had[42] seen him pitch forward as the little boat sank and he knew that help was needed. Bob came to the surface—blowing water as if in a forty-yard dash—his hat well adrift and his shoes already like lead, but with the unconscious form of their victim in his arms.
Captain Joe threw true, and Bob had enough strength to free one arm and grasp the line. Mrs. Balfour screamed again, but the experienced seaman reassured her with a smile. Then the agitated76 woman even helped pull the limp form of the rescued boy into the schooner. Thereupon, although Bob was able to clamber aboard, almost unassisted, she became hysterical77. Bob, a little weak in his legs and arms, applied78 himself to her pacification79, and in a short time, they were both able to give attention to the boy on the deck.
“All right,” exclaimed Captain Joe, “breathin’ reg’lar. Got de boom on ’is ’ead. Ain’t no drown.”
A red spot on the unconscious boy’s temple indicated that he had been struck by a bit of wreckage. While Captain Joe hastened to the helm again, Bob and his mother raised the boy’s head, wiped his face and in a few moments, he groaned80 slightly. Just before the schooner reached the wharf, the unconscious boy was able to move, and, after coughing and clearing his throat, he turned on his side.
Bob Had Enough Strength to Free One Arm and Grasp the Line.
“Captain Joe,” said Bob, “you know who we are and where we are stopping. If the boy is all right, don’t say anything about us. Take care of the boy, and if he thinks we ought to pay for his boat, come and see us. Here’s the money for our sail, and the next time, I hope we’ll have better luck.”
As the Three Sisters came alongside the wharf, her forward sail came over and hid the still unconscious boy in its shade. Urged on by Bob, Mrs. Balfour climbed ashore81. At the last moment, the still dripping Bob remembered a five dollar bill his father had given him. Slipping it to Captain Joe, he whispered:
“Give him this for his doctor’s bill, if he needs attention.”
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收听单词发音
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1
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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2
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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conditional
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| adj.条件的，带有条件的 | |
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4
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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7
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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8
shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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11
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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12
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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13
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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14
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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15
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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16
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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17
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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18
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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20
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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21
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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holders
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| 支持物( holder的名词复数 )； 持有者； （支票等）持有人； 支托（或握持）…之物 | |
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23
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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24
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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26
utilize
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| vt.使用，利用 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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janitor
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| n.看门人，管门人 | |
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29
inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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31
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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32
blustered
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| v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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33
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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34
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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35
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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36
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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37
bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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44
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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45
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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46
tacks
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| 大头钉( tack的名词复数 )； 平头钉； 航向； 方法 | |
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47
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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48
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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49
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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50
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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51
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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52
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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53
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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54
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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55
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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56
scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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57
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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58
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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59
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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60
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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61
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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62
fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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63
foamy
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| adj.全是泡沫的，泡沫的，起泡沫的 | |
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64
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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65
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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66
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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67
jibing
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| v.与…一致( jibe的现在分词 )；（与…）相符；相匹配 | |
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68
eddying
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| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
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69
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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70
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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71
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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aquatics
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| n.水生植物，水生动物( aquatic的名词复数 )；水上运动 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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pacification
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| n. 讲和，绥靖，平定 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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