Sidewalks along Fifth Avenue were packed with persons of all nationalities, representatives of every variety of industrial activity in the life of the City. There was a reviewing stand erected1 in front of the massive library that displayed its lines of architectural beauty in place of the sloping, age-gray walls of the old reservoir at Bryant Square. City officials and families of officers in the troops soon to pass were assembled there to witness this march of soldiers on their way to entrain for the Mexican border. They were filled with the zeal2 of patriots3, because their comrades had been foully5 killed on that same border by a treacherous6 foe7, and they were being sent to avenge8 that insult against the life and dignity of their nation.
Came the rhythmic9 beat of feet on the pavement; came the blare of the band. The two swung together into a harmony of marching. These boys, ordered to the front, were going, steadfastly10, as in duty bound. They loved this "send-off." They marched with vigor11 in their steps, because ten thousand handkerchiefs waved from the windows along the line of march.
On the sidewalks was assembled a strange crowd. There were the stenographers taking their noonday outing. Many were carefully over-powdered and perfumed. They were dressed after the latest fashion—a long way after it!
But the Midinettes were a very small proportion of those wild to see the real soldiers.
All New York had heard the troops were to march that day. And all New York turned out to see the regiments13.
There are a myriad14 phases of metropolitan15 life. Those phases were illustrated16 that day in the crowds along the line of march. The bulk of those clustering at the curb17 were of a sort eager for a free show. In the countless18 loft19 buildings bordering the avenue were hordes20 of men and women too busy in earning a pitiful wage to think of anything so frivolous21 as a procession, with banners waving and bands playing. But while these had no thought of marching troops, there were innumerable others. For New York is a city gigantic. Within it are hosts. Some of these always are idle. Some, always eager for the free show of the streets.
So, to-day, when the troops are to march by with shrill22 of fife and blatant23 noise of band, the multitude comes scurrying24, curious to see, patriotic25 with the emotional patriotism26 of one just become a citizen of a free country, where before he was the unrecognized and unhonored subject of despotism, from which he fled in search of liberty.
New York is a city of millions. It is the biggest city on earth. It is the melting pot of nations. The crowd that lines the curb is of one sort. There is another sort marching the length of the avenue. And this is a mixture to bewilder any beholder27. A countryman from New Jersey28, with his wife and children comes to-day for this splendid free show of the troops that are to march; the countrymen from the reaches of New York along the Hudson, with the same purpose; his fellows from Long Island, from Connecticut. With these alien figures, treading the principal city street of the world, are others. Those who walk there daily walk there again to-day. The clubman, coated, hatted, gloved to perfection, takes his accustomed stroll on the avenue, and looks with contemptuous disgust on the crowd that forces him to walk gingerly where usually he struts29 as a master. He, too, is a patriot4 and he means to see the march of the troops, and to applaud it—but from his club window, if ever he is able to make his way there through the perspiring30 congestion31 of the motley crowd.
There is a crew of money-makers, busy along the avenue on an occasion such as this. These are hordes of itinerant32 merchants moving up and down with things to sell to the crowd. They offer canes33 and instruments of noise that by a twist of the wrist make a horrible din12. Especially, they offer American flags—bigger or smaller according to the purchaser's taste and purse. These are bought with eagerness by the crowd, and the fakers reap a harvest from the enthusiasm of those assembled to witness the marching soldiers.
The boy with a box is dominant34. Wherever a short, but eager watcher stands to look, the boy comes, with his offer of a box to stand on, a box to sit on, as the purchaser may please, for the nominal35 cost of ten cents. Always, one finds at hand this boy, with the box that he offers for your sitting or for your feet, as you will. One box bought, he shows another, offering it for sale. Whence he comes with boxes so multitudinous none may guess. But he goes away with nickles and dimes36 enough perhaps to provide an income that will continue over until another day of parade.
In the reviewing stand, there was seated a girl who watched the marching troops with an intentness that had in it something of desperation, something of despair. Yet, as the soldiers passed, she gave them little heed37. She was always looking toward those advancing, as if in search for something that meant more to her than this moving mass of troops.
A band passed. Behind it, at the head of his men, rode Colonel Marion. As he came opposite the reviewing stand, his eyes swept over the crowd seated on the tiers of benches. They rested on the face of the girl, who had been so anxiously watching. He smiled and saluted38. The girl—his daughter Ethel—waved her handkerchief eagerly in response. Then she turned, and spoke39 to the young man who sat beside her. There was love, touched with reverence40, in her voice.
"Isn't Daddy splendid!"
Her companion, Roy Morton, answered with sincerity41, in which was a tincture of irrepressible bitterness.
"He's every inch a soldier."
The bitterness came from the fact that a broken tendon—received during his last football fight for Yale—disqualified him for military service, for which he longed more than ever in this hour when he saw the girl beside him so thrilled by the pomp of war, when he saw her pride and exultation42 in the military bearing of the father she revered43. He felt that he must seem a slacker in her eyes, even though she knew that no fault of his own kept him at home, while others marched away to serve their country.
For Roy loved Ethel and his chief desire always was to show perfect in her eyes. For that matter, he was successful enough, since the girl loved him. Their troth was plighted44, and in due time they would be married with the full approval of Colonel Marion, who both liked and respected his prospective45 son-in-law. So, in preparation for his own absence from home on military service, he strictly46 charged Roy to watch over Ethel and guard her from any possible peril47. It was only a father's instinctive48 act in protection of his child. As a matter of fact, what danger could by any possibility threaten the well-being49 of this Ethel, who would remain living quietly in her father's New York house, along with the elderly cousin who acted as chaperon to the motherless girl, and the staff of old and faithful servants?
During the summer weeks that followed the departure of her father, Ethel lived happily enough, content with a routine of life that included entertainments of the usual social sort and especially the almost constant company of her lover.
One of her favorite diversions was a visit to her father's yacht, which lay at its moorings off Eighty-fourth Street in the North River. There was only a caretaker left on board during the Colonel's absence, but Ethel was fond of spending an afternoon in solitary50 enjoyment51 on the yacht. Under the after awning52 she would sit at ease in the low wicker chair, by turns reading, watching the ceaseless traffic of the river, musing53 on love and happiness—which meant, always, Roy.
Came a day when Roy was summoned home by the illness of his mother. Ethel went with him to the station and saw him off. It was long after noon when she had given the last word of farewell and the last kiss of tenderness to her lover. Ethel thought that she would like to seek the repose54 of the yacht for a period of tranquil55 meditation56 in the luxurious57 depths of her favorite chair under the after awning.
She rode to the dock in a taxicab, and the yacht's tender took her to the vessel58. It was just then that a great steamer passed, and as she would have mounted the stairs to the yacht's deck an unexpected swell59 from the passing steamer smote60 the stairs so violently that Ethel was thrown back into the boat she had just left, with an ankle crushed under her own weight.
The girl realized that it was badly sprained61. She gave orders that she should be carried on board the yacht forthwith. She decided62 then that she would send home for whatever might be needed—and, too, for the family physician.
With the assistance of the caretaker she managed to reach her cabin, and then sent the fellow to bring the physician in all haste. She pulled off her outer garments and donned a kimono, and crawled into her berth63, to await the Doctor's coming.
It was within the hour that the little tender came back toward the yacht, carrying a passenger.
This was Doctor Gifford Garnet, the family physician. He hurried up the companion way, and went at once to his patient's stateroom. A very short examination sufficed. He saw the girl was suffering excruciating pain from the injury to her ankle.
The physician himself was a victim of morphia. And, too, he was a man of imagination—a most dangerous quality in one of his profession. Now, as he regarded the girl, he realized the intense suffering caused to her by the wrenched64 tendons in the ankle. That thought of suffering sickened his sensitive nature, so that he felt an emotion almost of nausea65 from the pain he knew her to be enduring.... And he was a coward. Pain had come to him often. Because he was a coward, he had fled from it—interposing morphia as a shield against its attack. So, now, in sympathy for the anguish66 endured by the girl he turned to the drug to give her relief from suffering. He made an injection into Ethel's arm.... The girl watched his movement with listless eyes. Then she sighed and smiled as she felt the gentle sting of the needle. At once she sank into an untroubled sleep.
Dr. Garnet regarded her for a moment with a curiously67 contemplative stare. Then he grinned grimly, pulled up his coat and shirt-sleeve, and pressed the piston68 of the hypodermic, driving a heavier charge of the drug into his own blood.
One minute he spent in deft69 examination of the injured ankle, then bandaged it. Afterward70, he left the girl, and went up on deck, where he stood staring through long minutes toward the fleecy masses of cumulus clouds that lay along the New Jersey horizon.
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1
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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3
patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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foully
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| ad.卑鄙地 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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7
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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8
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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9
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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17
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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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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21
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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29
struts
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| （框架的）支杆( strut的名词复数 )； 支柱； 趾高气扬的步态； （尤指跳舞或表演时）卖弄 | |
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30
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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31
congestion
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| n.阻塞，消化不良 | |
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32
itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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33
canes
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| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
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34
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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35
nominal
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| adj.名义上的；(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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dimes
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| n.（美国、加拿大的）10分铸币( dime的名词复数 ) | |
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37
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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38
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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39
spoke
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| 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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40
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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41
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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42
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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43
revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
plighted
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| vt.保证，约定（plight的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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45
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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46
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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47
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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48
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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49
well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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50
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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51
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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52
awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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53
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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54
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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55
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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56
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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57
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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58
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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59
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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60
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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61
sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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62
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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63
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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64
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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65
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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66
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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67
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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68
piston
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| n.活塞 | |
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69
deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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70
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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