“But why do you keep poking10 with your hand?” cries the hunchback Lubim, shivering as though in a fever. “You blockhead! Hold him, hold him, or else he’ll get away, the anathema11! Hold him, I tell you!”
“He won’t get away. . . . Where can he get to? He’s under a root,” says Gerassim in a hoarse12, hollow bass13, which seems to come not from his throat, but from the depths of his stomach. “He’s slippery, the beggar, and there’s nothing to catch hold of.”
“Get him by the gills, by the gills!”
“There’s no seeing his gills. . . . Stay, I’ve got hold of something . . . . I’ve got him by the lip. . . He’s biting, the brute14!”
“Don’t pull him out by the lip, don’t—or you’ll let him go! Take him by the gills, take him by the gills. . . . You’ve begun poking with your hand again! You are a senseless man, the Queen of Heaven forgive me! Catch hold!”
“Catch hold!” Gerassim mimics15 him. “You’re a fine one to give orders . . . . You’d better come and catch hold of him yourself, you hunchback devil. . . . What are you standing there for?”
“I would catch hold of him if it were possible. But can I stand by the bank, and me as short as I am? It’s deep there.”
“It doesn’t matter if it is deep. . . . You must swim.”
The hunchback waves his arms, swims up to Gerassim, and catches hold of the twigs16. At the first attempt to stand up, he goes into the water over his head and begins blowing up bubbles.
“I told you it was deep,” he says, rolling his eyes angrily. “Am I to sit on your neck or what?”
“Stand on a root . . . there are a lot of roots like a ladder.” The hunchback gropes for a root with his heel, and tightly gripping several twigs, stands on it. . . . Having got his balance, and established himself in his new position, he bends down, and trying not to get the water into his mouth, begins fumbling17 with his right hand among the roots. Getting entangled18 among the weeds and slipping on the mossy roots he finds his hand in contact with the sharp pincers of a crayfish.
“As though we wanted to see you, you demon19!” says Lubim, and he angrily flings the crayfish on the bank.
At last his hand feels Gerassim’ s arm, and groping its way along it comes to something cold and slimy.
“Here he is!” says Lubim with a grin. “A fine fellow! Move your fingers, I’ll get him directly . . . by the gills. Stop, don’t prod20 me with your elbow. . . . I’ll have him in a minute, in a minute, only let me get hold of him. . . . The beggar has got a long way under the roots, there is nothing to get hold of. . . . One can’t get to the head . . . one can only feel its belly21 . . . . kill that gnat22 on my neck—it’s stinging! I’ll get him by the gills, directly . . . . Come to one side and give him a push! Poke23 him with your finger!”
The hunchback puffs out his cheeks, holds his breath, opens his eyes wide, and apparently24 has already got his fingers in the gills, but at that moment the twigs to which he is holding on with his left hand break, and losing his balance he plops into the water! Eddies25 race away from the bank as though frightened, and little bubbles come up from the spot where he has fallen in. The hunchback swims out and, snorting, clutches at the twigs.
“You’ll be drowned next, you stupid, and I shall have to answer for you,” wheezes26 Gerassim. “Clamber out, the devil take you! I’ll get him out myself.”
High words follow. . . . The sun is baking hot. The shadows begin to grow shorter and to draw in on themselves, like the horns of a snail27. . . . The high grass warmed by the sun begins to give out a strong, heavy smell of honey. It will soon be midday, and Gerassim and Lubim are still floundering under the willow tree. The husky bass and the shrill28, frozen tenor29 persistently30 disturb the stillness of the summer day.
“Pull him out by the gills, pull him out! Stay, I’ll push him out! Where are you shoving your great ugly fist? Poke him with your finger—you pig’s face! Get round by the side! get to the left, to the left, there’s a big hole on the right! You’ll be a supper for the water-devil! Pull it by the lip!”
There is the sound of the flick31 of a whip. . . . A herd32 of cattle, driven by Yefim, the shepherd, saunter lazily down the sloping bank to drink. The shepherd, a decrepit33 old man, with one eye and a crooked34 mouth, walks with his head bowed, looking at his feet. The first to reach the water are the sheep, then come the horses, and last of all the cows.
“Push him from below!” he hears Lubim’s voice. “Stick your finger in! Are you deaf, fellow, or what? Tfoo!”
“What are you after, lads?” shouts Yefim.
“An eel-pout! We can’t get him out! He’s hidden under the roots. Get round to the side! To the side!”
For a minute Yefim screws up his eye at the fishermen, then he takes off his bark shoes, throws his sack off his shoulders, and takes off his shirt. He has not the patience to take off his breeches, but, making the sign of the cross, he steps into the water, holding out his thin dark arms to balance himself. . . . For fifty paces he walks along the slimy bottom, then he takes to swimming.
“Wait a minute, lads!” he shouts. “Wait! Don’t be in a hurry to pull him out, you’ll lose him. You must do it properly!”
Yefim joins the carpenters and all three, shoving each other with their knees and their elbows, puffing35 and swearing at one another, bustle36 about the same spot. Lubim, the hunchback, gets a mouthful of water, and the air rings with his hard spasmodic coughing.
“Where’s the shepherd?” comes a shout from the bank. “Yefim! Shepherd! Where are you? The cattle are in the garden! Drive them out, drive them out of the garden! Where is he, the old brigand37?”
First men’s voices are heard, then a woman’s. The master himself, Andrey Andreitch, wearing a dressing-gown made of a Persian shawl and carrying a newspaper in his hand, appears from behind the garden fence. He looks inquiringly towards the shouts which come from the river, and then trips rapidly towards the bathing shed.
“What’s this? Who’s shouting?” he asks sternly, seeing through the branches of the willow the three wet heads of the fishermen. “What are you so busy about there?”
“Catching a fish,” mutters Yefim, without raising his head.
“I’ll give it to you! The beasts are in the garden and he is fishing! . . . When will that bathing shed be done, you devils? You’ve been at work two days, and what is there to show for it?”
“It . . . will soon be done,” grunts38 Gerassim; summer is long, you’ll have plenty of time to wash, your honour. . . . Pfrrr! . . . We can’t manage this eel-pout here anyhow. . . . He’s got under a root and sits there as if he were in a hole and won’t budge39 one way or another . . . .”
“An eel-pout?” says the master, and his eyes begin to glisten40. “Get him out quickly then.”
“You’ll give us half a rouble for it presently if we oblige you . . . . A huge eel-pout, as fat as a merchant’s wife. . . . It’s worth half a rouble, your honour, for the trouble. . . . Don’t squeeze him, Lubim, don’t squeeze him, you’ll spoil him! Push him up from below! Pull the root upwards41, my good man . . . what’s your name? Upwards, not downwards42, you brute! Don’t swing your legs!”
Five minutes pass, ten. . . . The master loses all patience.
“Vassily!” he shouts, turning towards the garden. “Vaska! Call Vassily to me!”
The coachman Vassily runs up. He is chewing something and breathing hard.
“Go into the water,” the master orders him. “Help them to pull out that eel-pout. They can’t get him out.”
Vassily rapidly undresses and gets into the water.
“In a minute. . . . I’ll get him in a minute,” he mutters. “Where’s the eel-pout? We’ll have him out in a trice! You’d better go, Yefim. An old man like you ought to be minding his own business instead of being here. Where’s that eel-pout? I’ll have him in a minute . . . . Here he is! Let go.”
“What’s the good of saying that? We know all about that! You get it out!”
But there is no getting it out like this! One must get hold of it by the head.”
“And the head is under the root! We know that, you fool!”
“Now then, don’t talk or you’ll catch it! You dirty cur!”
“Before the master to use such language,” mutters Yefim. “You won’t get him out, lads! He’s fixed43 himself much too cleverly!”
“Wait a minute, I’ll come directly,” says the master, and he begins hurriedly undressing. “Four fools, and can’t get an eel-pout!”
When he is undressed, Andrey Andreitch gives himself time to cool and gets into the water. But even his interference leads to nothing.
“We must chop the root off,” Lubim decides at last. “Gerassim, go and get an axe44! Give me an axe!”
“Don’t chop your fingers off,” says the master, when the blows of the axe on the root under water are heard. “Yefim, get out of this! Stay, I’ll get the eel-pout. . . . You’ll never do it.”
The root is hacked45 a little. They partly break it off, and Andrey Andreitch, to his immense satisfaction, feels his fingers under the gills of the fish.
“I’m pulling him out, lads! Don’t crowd round . . . stand still . . . . I am pulling him out!”
The head of a big eel-pout, and behind it its long black body, nearly a yard long, appears on the surface of the water. The fish flaps its tail heavily and tries to tear itself away.
“None of your nonsense, my boy! Fiddlesticks! I’ve got you! Aha!”
A honied smile overspreads all the faces. A minute passes in silent contemplation.
“A famous eel-pout,” mutters Yefim, scratching under his shoulder-blades. “I’ll be bound it weighs ten pounds.”
“Mm! . . . Yes,” the master assents46. “The liver is fairly swollen47! It seems to stand out! A-ach!”
The fish makes a sudden, unexpected upward movement with its tail and the fishermen hear a loud splash . . . they all put out their hands, but it is too late; they have seen the last of the eel-pout.
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收听单词发音
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1
grasshopper
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| n.蚱蜢，蝗虫，蚂蚱 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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7
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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8
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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9
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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10
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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11
anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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12
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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13
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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14
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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15
mimics
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| n.模仿名人言行的娱乐演员，滑稽剧演员( mimic的名词复数 )；善于模仿的人或物v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的第三人称单数 )；酷似 | |
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16
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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18
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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prod
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| vt.戳，刺；刺激，激励 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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22
gnat
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| v.对小事斤斤计较，琐事 | |
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23
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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24
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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25
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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26
wheezes
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| n.喘息声( wheeze的名词复数 )v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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27
snail
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| n.蜗牛 | |
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28
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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29
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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30
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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31
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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32
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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34
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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35
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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36
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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37
brigand
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| n.土匪，强盗 | |
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38
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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39
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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40
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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41
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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42
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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43
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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44
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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45
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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46
assents
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| 同意，赞同( assent的名词复数 ) | |
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47
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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