The bare, unlovely expanses of yellow pine boards were no longer visible. From the gridiron the sloping banks of humanity might, for all evidence the eye could obtain, have hidden tiers of marble seats like some huge amphitheatre of old. The effect was of substantiality and permanence.
The sky was colourless, the earth dun. Nature was in a mood of somberness and showed no favouritism; neither crimson5 nor blue was included in her colour scheme. But within the crowded inclosure the scene was brightly tinted6. The upward sloping backgrounds were dull and sad enough, to be sure—gray[150] and brown, and black; but against them everywhere, from corner to corner, from top to bottom, trembled specks7 of crimson and blue like roses and gentians fluttering in the wind. Nearer at hand the blossoms resolved themselves into flags, ribbons and bouquets8. Even the score-cards added their touches of colour, while thousands of bright red megaphones and hundreds of toy crimson balloons bobbed and swayed. The north stand was darkly cerulean from end to end; the south stand warmly, deeply red; while the end tiers owned allegiance to Harvard save where, here and there, a Yale banner flaunted9 defiantly10 like a sapphire11 set amidst rubies12.
There was sound as well as colour. Thirty-four thousand voices arose in talk and laughter, song and cheer. Near the centre of the south side was a table. On the table stood the junior with the crimson megaphone. In front of him was the band, increased in numbers since its last appearance, and beyond the band, stretching upward and away to the sky line, was the cheering section. When the megaphone waved the band played and a thousand voices sang. After the songs came cheers, stately, thunderous, roared out from thousands of lusty throats.
[151]
Across the field, on the north side, every vocal13 challenge was accepted. Yale sang and shouted her slogans incessantly14. Her numbers were fewer, but there were strong lungs behind the deep blue banners, and when a handful of blue-stockinged warriors15 ran into sight it was as though New Haven16 and not Cambridge was the scene of battle. The throngs17 at the entrances had thinned out now, and numbed19 fingers were drawing watches from pockets hidden under many thicknesses of coats and mufflers. And then onto the rectangle of faded turf trotted20 a little squad21 of men in nice new black sweaters adorned22 with crimson H’s, and pandemonium23 broke loose. And when, after many minutes, comparative quiet settled over the scene, a whistle blew shrilly24, and Harvard and Yale were again at battle.
It is safe to say that of that host of onlookers25 there was only one who did not see the Yale leftguard send the ball corkscrewing to Harvard’s fifteen-yard line and into the arms of the Harvard captain. John North, watching from the side line, saw it; David Meadowcamp, sitting beside his father and for once wide awake, saw it; Chester and Guy, enthroned half-way up the cheering section, saw it; Everett Kingsford saw it; Miss Mildred Wayland,[152] who sat beside him; and the obliging Muir; and Kingsford’s mother; and his sister Betty. The one who did not see it was Phillip.
He was looking at Betty.
Phillip had spent the morning in a condition of funk. He wished heartily26 that he hadn’t agreed to Kingsford’s request; the prospect27 of sitting for two hours between an elderly woman who would tell him of Everett’s infantile adventures and maladies and a girl who would talk to him about Thoreau and Emerson and—horror of horrors!—possibly his soul, was appalling28. Thoreau and Emerson didn’t interest him greatly as yet, and being a very healthy young gentleman, with a good digestion29 and scant30 knowledge of such a thing as a liver, he never considered his soul at all. The idea of being taken suddenly ill with some strange and serious ailment31 occurred to him, but as that would necessitate32 his remaining away from the game, since tickets were at a prohibitive price, he gave it up. To miss the smallest portion of the contest was not to be thought of for an instant; better far to perish a victim to friendship.
He was to meet Kingsford and his party in the square at half past one. Most of the fellows at his[153] table were either having lunch in town or heroically braving the restaurants in company with friends or relatives, and Phillip had the table practically to himself. The question whether to wear a nice new rain-coat or an old ulster had bothered him all the forenoon, and he had decided33 in favour of the ulster. But after lunch a sudden realization34 of its unloveliness came to him, and he stole back to his room by way of Mount Auburn Street, so as not to encounter Kingsford in the square, and donned the rain-coat. A girl is a girl, he reflected, even if she talks philosophy and psychology35!
He found Kingsford waiting for him, surrounded by three ladies and a retiring fellow who, he supposed, must be Muir. Kingsford accused him of tardiness36 in one breath and introduced him to the rest of the party in another; and then started them off unceremoniously through the throng18 in the direction of Soldiers’ Field. Phillip found himself with Mrs. Kingsford, and after a first moment of bewilderment realized that his picture of a rather garrulous37 elderly and white-haired lady was all wrong. Everett’s mother looked to be about twenty-five, and was so beautiful and so gracious that Phillip would have forgiven her had she launched at once into a catalogue[154] of the diseases of children and their remedies. But she did nothing of the sort. Instead she talked charmingly of everyday affairs, whimsically anticipated being ill for weeks to come as a result of sitting outdoors in such weather, asked one or two sensible questions regarding football, good-naturedly criticized the persons and objects they passed in their mad, headlong career out Boylston Street, and was altogether so captivating that by the time they had fought their way into the grounds Phillip’s one desire in life was to sit beside her and listen to her for the rest of the afternoon.
When they reached their seats, after a long and tedious climb which Kingsford declared was harder than ascending38 the Jungfrau, Muir, who had walked with Betty from the square, was detailed39 to the farther seat. Kingsford sent his mother in next, then Phillip, followed by Betty, Miss Wayland and himself. It was not until then that Phillip had a fair look at the young lady who was to talk Emerson and Thoreau to him. And it was then that he experienced his second surprise. Betty Kingsford was small, rather slight, with a good deal of very rebellious40 hair of a light brown shade which Phillip didn’t remember ever having seen before, and which[155] was continually being blown across her face and continually drawn41 away again. Her eyes were deeply brown. Phillip discovered this just after Harvard had made her first touchdown, and the discovery, for some inexplicable42 reason, came to him as a shock and seemed for weeks afterward43 to be the most wonderful and momentous44 discovery of recent years. Her cheeks were like—well, to use Phillip’s own simile45, a simile which he honestly believed he had invented, they were like wild pink roses. When she laughed, which was frequently, she showed a number of small and very even teeth of marvelous whiteness. When she smiled, which was pretty much all the time, she caused a dimple to appear on each cheek. After that day the tune46 of “Up the Street” was associated in Phillip’s mind with pink cheeks and dimples, laughing brown eyes, and wind-loosened tresses. Phillip’s chronology of the game would, if written, run something like this:
2 P. M. First spoke47 to Miss Kingsford.
2:15 Discovered that her eyes were dark-brown and that her hair was the colour of beech48 leaves in autumn.
2:25 The left-hand dimple is a trifle deeper than the right-hand dimple.
[156]
2:30 She has the nicest, rippling49 sort of a laugh you ever heard.
2:45 Our hands touched under the rug; I don’t think she knew it.
2:55 She likes Virginia and has been in our part of it.
3:05 She dropped her score-card. It went under the seat and she accepted mine.
3:15 She is going to make Everett give a tea in his room some afternoon. I am to be there.
3:30 She leaned across me to talk to her mother and her hair blew against my face. It smelled awfully50 sweet, like violets or—or something.
3:40 We all stood up and shouted and waved our arms. When we sat down again she let me tuck the rug about her. She laughed.
3:50 I am going to call some afternoon. And I am to go in for dinner some night; her mother asked me.
3:55 When we got up I found her score-card and she said I might keep it. I kept it. Harvard won. I don’t know the score.
If you were to remonstrate51 with Phillip about the incompleteness of this history of what was a great and, from a Harvard viewpoint, a glorious event, he[157] would probably tell you to read the papers. And I shall do the same. In them you will find a very succinct52 and interesting account of that game, with all sorts of pictures made the day before and wonderful and confusing diagrams showing where the ball was every minute of the time. But they won’t tell you what Betty said when Phillip expressed a fear that she was cold, nor what Phillip answered when Betty asked him if he danced, nor how Betty looked when Phillip asked if she would mind very much if he called some old day. But, for that matter, neither will I.
Between the halves, when the day was already won and frantic53 wearers of the Crimson were shouting themselves hoarse54, and delighted coaches were thumping55 each other’s shoulders and shaking hands on the slightest excuse; when the last of the liberated56 toy balloons were speeding off into the gray distance and the tramp, tramp of numbed feet made a martial57 accompaniment to the joyous58 talk and laughter, Everett Kingsford leaned over and addressed himself to Phillip.
“How do you and Betty agree on Emerson?” he asked gravely.
“Emerson?” Phillip stared blankly.
[158]
“Emerson? Who is he?” Betty looked perplexed59.
Kingsford laughed and turned back to Miss Wayland.
Phillip could hear him talking in low tones to her and presently she was laughing softly. Betty demanded to be told. Betty’s demands were already law. Phillip explained. Betty frowned charmingly.
“Everett’s always making fun of me,” she declared. “I’m afraid you’ve already discovered how ignorant I am, Mr. Ryerson. I—I don’t know a thing, really and truly! Do you care much for Emerson and Thoreau?”
“Hate them both,” answered Phillip heartily.
“Oh, but you mustn’t hate them!”
“Mustn’t I?”
“No; you must just not care a great deal for them.”
“Very well, I don’t care a great deal for them, Miss Kingsford.”
“That’s nice,” answered Betty, apparently60 much relieved. “I respect them both, of course, and think they were really very great men, but I don’t think people have any right to talk about them the way they do. Now that they’re dead, why can’t they be left in peace?”
[159]
“I know. It’s—it’s mighty61 mean, I think.”
“Yes. Then you’re not—not disappointed?” asked Betty. “You don’t mind if I don’t talk to you about your soul, and Emerson, and the other man?”
“Disappointed!” cried Phillip. “I’m mightily62 pleased.”
“Honestly? And you don’t think I’m frightfully ignorant?”
“I think—I think——”
“Yes?”
Phillip was looking at her very, very ardently63 and Betty dropped her dark-brown eyes and studied her score-card.
“I think you’re——” But there he stopped again. He didn’t dare.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?” asked Betty in apparent surprise. She darted64 a glance at him and straightway decided not to press the subject. There are more fitting places than a crowded grand stand for hearing certain things.
“I’ll—I’ll tell you some day,” answered Phillip softly.
“O-oh!” murmured Betty. “I suppose, then, I shall have to wait, shan’t I?” she asked cheerfully.[160] Phillip wished she had exhibited a less philosophic65 spirit.
“Oh, I daresay you don’t care very much what I think,” he said rather aggrievedly. Betty shook her head and for the hundredth time pushed a lock of pale brown hair from her face.
“But I do, of course,” she answered gravely. “I like people to think—well of me, and especially Everett’s friends.”
“Oh,” said Phillip. Then, with elaborate carelessness, “I suppose he has lots of friends, hasn’t he?”
“M-m, yes, a good many, I guess.”
“And—er—do they all—that is——”
“Like me?” asked Betty without embarrassment66. “I don’t know, I’m sure. And—and I don’t care whether some do, after all. I guess it’s only the ones I like that—I like to have like me.” She laughed merrily. “Can you understand all that rigmarole?”
“You said you cared what I thought,” said Phillip rashly.
“Did I?”
“Didn’t you?”
“I may have. Why?”
“Oh—why, because if you care what I think and[161] you only care what people that you like think, why—why——”
“Oh, dear,” cried Betty, “that’s worse than Emerson! And you know I don’t care a great deal for Emerson.”
“Nor me, I reckon,” muttered Phillip. Betty turned a look of surprise upon him.
“But I’ve only known you half an hour!” she objected.
“It’s nearly an hour,” corrected Phillip.
“Really? It doesn’t seem that long, does it?”
“No!” he answered fervently67. And was comforted.
Yes, dear reader, that is a very fair sample of their discourse68; not startlingly interesting to you, or to me, but to Phillip one of the most brilliant, absorbing conversations ever held since Adam and Eve first exchanged views on the weather. When the game was over and Phillip had piloted Betty down the steps as carefully as though she had been a piece of favrile glass instead of the very healthy and able young lady she was, and when they had paused for a moment to view the tempestuous69 scene before them, in which a dozen or so of crimson-sleeved players rose and sank in a sea of swaying enthusiasts70, Betty turned to him.
[162]
“Wasn’t it glorious!” she cried.
And Phillip, looking straight into her eyes, and having in mind something entirely71 apart from the victory, answered simply and sincerely:
“Great!”
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1
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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2
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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3
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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5
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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6
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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7
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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8
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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9
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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10
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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11
sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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12
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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13
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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14
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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15
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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16
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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17
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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18
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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19
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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21
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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22
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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23
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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24
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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25
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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26
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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27
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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28
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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29
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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30
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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31
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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32
necessitate
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| v.使成为必要，需要 | |
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33
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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34
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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35
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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36
tardiness
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| n.缓慢；迟延；拖拉 | |
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37
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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38
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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39
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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40
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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41
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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42
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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43
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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44
momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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45
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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46
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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47
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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48
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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49
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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50
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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51
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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52
succinct
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| adj.简明的，简洁的 | |
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53
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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54
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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55
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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56
liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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57
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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58
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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59
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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60
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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61
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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62
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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63
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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64
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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65
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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66
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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67
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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68
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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69
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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70
enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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71
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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