They had got to the point where Socrates, having been warned to prepare for the administration of the{6} cup of hemlock10 at sundown, had sent for his wife, Xantippe, and his children. But she had made so unphilosophical a howling and feminine outcry that he had sent his family away, and proceeded to spend his last hour in the company of his friends.
Damon paused—he was translating at the moment—and lit a pipe, while Pythias relaxed his attitude of polite attention.
“I vote we stop,” he said. “Socrates was evidently jolly sick of it all and wanted to stop, too. It wouldn’t do to fly in the face of Socrates. Whisky?”
Pythias shut the translation up in the original text.
“I’m not by way of drinking whisky,” he said, “but if you’ve got some ice and soda11-water——”
“Which you ordered for me, and put down to my account——” continued Damon.
“So I did. In that case I don’t mind for once: I think I should rather like it. It tastes beastly, but on the other hand, I drink it not for what it is, but for what it does. And I’m talking like Socrates. In other words, I drink it not for drinky but for drunky. It makes gay. Lord, what a candle! By the grace of God, or probably without it, I could light a better candle than that. I could light such a candle, as an Archbishop said just before they lit him. When do you suppose the electric light will cease being funny?”
“’Bout morning.”
Damon took the guttering12 candle away, in order to get Pythias the refreshment13 that apparently14 he didn’t want from his gyp-cupboard, and left him in the dark. Upon which it seemed good to Pythias to scream for his nurse and his mother in shrill15 falsetto. Damon couldn’t find the ice at once, for it had been put, wrapped up in a cloth, in his washing-basin, in order not to drip,{7} and Pythias, with the exuberance16 of youth, continued screaming....
Damon was the elder of the two by the space of an entire year, which, when the one is twenty and the other only nineteen, is the equivalent of a decade or so later on. People of fifty and sixty, in the eyes of youth, are of about the same age, just as people of nineteen and twenty in the eyes of the more mature are contemporaries. But the view of youth is probably the more correct, for when a man has passed some fifty years in this puzzling world, he has solved any problem of interest that he is likely to solve, has seen all that he is really capable of observing, and has assimilated all that his mental and moral digestion18 is able to tackle. Consequently, it matters very little how much older than fifty he is....
But there are wonderful things dawning every day on those of the sunnier age; fresh horizons expand to their climbings, new stars swim into larger heavens, virgin19 and undiscovered slopes mount upwards20 for eager footsteps. Eventually the table-land is reached, and given that no national crisis or peril21 comes along to make everybody look upwards again to toppling precipices22 of ice, or menace of volcanic23 flame, the more elderly trot24 quietly thereafter, to the eyes of youth, along a mild and level road. They have married and begotten25 children, or they have remained single with Pekinese dogs and knitting or the club bow-window with the evening papers, to distract them gently as they move slowly on, and to the young it all seems very remote and staid and uninteresting. The exciting, the experimental age, when everything is worth trying, and almost everything worth doing, has been left behind; youth, with its causeless anticipations27, and even more causeless disillusionments, its insatiable{8} curiosity, its stainless28 “seeing what things are like,” has sunk gently below the horizon, and the desire even for experiment has failed.
Our happy heroes, however, one screaming in the dark, the other exploring a cupboard, had no idea what most things were like, except that, without discrimination, they found that most things were jolly. At present their best actual achievement was to have found each other, and on that point, despite the discrepancy29 of their ages, their discoveries were of pretty equal merit. They had been at Eton together, and the intense friendship formed there had, rather unusually, renewed itself and burned with a brighter flame when they came together again, not yet a year ago, at St. Stephen’s College, Cambridge. They shared the widening horizon, and yet kept their smaller horizon—the fresh excitements and licences of the University had not obliterated30 the old. To people like tutors and godfathers, Damon was known as Jim Lethbridge, Pythias as Robin31 Linnet. It was inevitable32, therefore, that he should be more widely and intimately known as “Birds,” for how could there be an amalgamation33 in one set of human limbs of a Robin and Linnet without “Birds” being the natural formula for the owner?
It was a very hot night at the beginning of May, and, returning late from an idle afternoon of paddling and bathing on the upper river, they had neither of them gone into dinner in Hall, which would have implied changing from shirt and flannel34 trousers and nothing much besides into a more formal attire35. So Birds had ordered in a loaf of bread, a cold duck and a pot of jam to his own account, and some ice and soda-water and a bottle of whisky to Jim’s, which seemed about fair. The remains36 of this meal, about enough for a small cat, lay on the table in the window.{9} Then the electric light had ceased to be, and a single stolen candle had guttered over a half-hour’s Plato....
So Jim returned with preventives against thirst, and in putting down the guttering candle, spilt some hot wax over Robin’s brown hand. So he stopped screaming, and began obscenely swearing. The obscenity meant nothing whatever, nor did the amazing oaths: he talked like that just because he was a boy, and there was only a boy to listen to him. But peace returned with the long iced drink, and his mind went back to Socrates and Xantippe.
“Of course he sent her and the kids away,” he said. “Being a female, she didn’t understand him and his friends. He wanted to have a little sensible conversation before dying. I’m sure I should. Do come and see me when I’m dying, Jim. I’ll have you and my mother, because she’s frightfully decent.”
“She can’t have much in common with you then,” said Jim. “Better have the girl who sang about the oysters37.”
“Oysters on the pier38, I remember. That was at Easter, wasn’t it? You and I went together, and waited at the stage-door. And she was with another chap. Wonder who he was. Wonder....”
“What do you wonder?”
“Oh, nothing. It was only a rag. But I suppose girls cease to be a rag some time. People go and marry them and live with them happily ever afterwards. I should be awfully39 uncomfortable if I thought I was going to live with one girl for ever. Buxom40: they get buxom. There’s that Jackson girl: she’s buxom already. Lord!”
“That Jackson girl,” said Jim, “told Badders you had the most beautiful mouth she ever saw. Didn’t I tell you?{10}”
“No. She wants to kiss me, and I don’t want to kiss her: that’s where we are. She’s like a fat ferret, though most of them are lean. Marrying now! I don’t want to marry anybody. I shouldn’t sleep a wink41 with somebody snorting and breathing all night long. And if you have a separate room they divorce you, don’t they?”
“Usually.”
“Well, the sooner I’m divorced the better,” said Robin.
“You’ve got to marry first.”
Robin took a long draught from his whisky and soda.
“I should like to be divorced first,” he said, “and marry afterwards. And yet some fellows think about nothing but girls the whole blessed day. Badders does. Pure waste of time. Give me a girl for ten minutes, and then let me come back to my own little room. There’s a time for everything under the sun, and, thank God, it’s not time to marry yet!”
Birds had lit a couple of cigarettes by mistake as he gave utterance42 to these misogynistic43 expressions, and put one in each corner of his beautiful mouth, and tried to drink his whisky and soda with the section of mouth that lay in between them. That was not a very great success, because one cigarette fell into his glass and the other got whisky-logged. So he had to have some more ice and whisky and soda-water. Jim, at the moment, was bending over the candle as he lit his pipe, and there was a convenient cavity between his neck and the collar of his shirt. And with the force and suddenness of conviction or conversion44, it was borne in upon Birds that a small lump of his ice must be instantly inserted in that opening. This feat45 was accomplished46 with masterly precision.
Jim gave one gasp47 of surprise and shock as the ice{11} slid down his spine48, and turned the siphon full into Birds’ face. This half blinded him for a moment, then he seized Jim round the waist and closed with him. The siphon got wedged between their chests, and Jim’s iron finger never relaxed till it was empty, though he received his due share of the contents himself. A chair crashed to the ground, the table toppled and overturned, the candle went out, and from the darkness came squeaks49 and pants from the entangled50 wrestlers. Birds’ dripping shirt was split from shoulder to waist by the nozzle of the siphon, but eventually he wriggled52 from under the superincumbent Jim, sat firmly on his chest, and grasped the pit of his stomach.
“Well?” he said, very much out of breath.
“All right: that’ll do. Whatever we are, let’s be calm. And dignified53.... Dignified.... And calm.... Besides, that lump of ice won’t melt, and it’s hurting me.”
“Are you sorry? Damned sorry?” asked Birds.
“Yes! Oh, get up, you foul54 pig!”
The door opened, and Badders, who was Badsley, looked in. At that precise moment the electric light was restored, and shone on the upheaval55.
“I thought I heard a cuckoo singing,” he remarked, “or some other bird.”
Jim advanced stealthily on him.
“That is very interesting,” he said. “You thought you heard a cuckoo, did you? Birds, get between him and the door.”
The ill-starred Badders was a moment too late in his retreat. Birds tripped him up, and Jim laid him flat on the floor. “The only question is what to do with him,” he said. “Shall we bind56 the sacrifice with cords? Cuckoo, indeed! That’s an insult to you, Birds. You shall choose.{12}”
So Badders was tied up, trussed like a fowl57 and set in the corner, and the others threw paper darts59 at his face. He was obliged under threat of torture to open his mouth wide, and the first who threw a paper dart58 into it won. It lasted some time, and then the usual evening rag was over, the room was restored to some semblance60 of order, and all three sat down for refreshments61. Birds stripped off his torn and dripping shirt, and sat on the floor just as Nature had made him as far as the waist. She had made him very nicely indeed.
“Fifth of May,” announced Badsley, “and I would to God it were the fiftieth.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got my Tripos coming on. That’s the result of being so devilish clever and being told to take your Tripos in your second year. I almost wish I was a fool like Jim or you. What have you two been doing? Why weren’t you in Hall?”
“Went up to Granchester in a canoodle, which rhymes with caboodle.”
“There was a young lady of Exeter,” remarked Badders thoughtfully.
“No, there wasn’t. At least, we know all about her.”
“She was more amusing than going to Granchester. Why didn’t you play cricket this afternoon instead of slacking?”
“Because I’m playing for the University of Cambridge all to-morrow and the next day,” said Birds, “and three days’ consecutive62 cricket is more than I can bear.”
“That’s swank.”
“It is. You’d swank if you had been asked to play for the ‘Varsity. ‘Oh, Mr. Linnet,’ they said to me, they did, ‘will you come and play bat and ball with{13} us? It would be nice of you, it would. Some boys from Middlesex are coming up to play against us, they are, and we will have such fun!’ So I said I would, I did, and I will. There’ll be three stumps63 one end and three stumps the other, and a lot of little popping creases64. And I shall put my bat in front of my wicket, and hit the ball high, high up in the air, and they’ll all run to catch it together, and then dear little Birds will have made one run.”
“God!” said Jim. There really seemed very little else to say.
“After that——” began Birds again.
“Oh, shut it!”
“After that,” said Birds, not paying the slightest attention, “I shall pat the little popping creases with my little bat, and change hats with the umpire. And when they’re all ready again——”
“He’s drunk,” said Badders.
“I think it extremely unlikely: I am dead sober. Oh, I went to a lecture by Jackson to-day, and noticed for the first time that he had a green moustache. Why is that, I wonder?”
“Did he give you a billydux from Julia?”
“Yes. And told us a great deal about the Peloponnesian War that I really had no conception of before. No conception whatever, I assure you. The Peloponnese is shaped like a fig65 leaf, hence its name, and when Adam and Eve were turned out of the Paradise, and sent to the Vomitorio, as Jackson said——”
“He didn’t.”
“Quite right, he didn’t. But I am delirious66 to-night, and attribute it to spending the afternoon on the Cam. Lord, it was jolly up there! Beechen green and shadows numberless, you know, and lots of peewits. And Jim{14} sang of summer in full-throated ease. My throat was full, too, because we had tea.”
Jim had lain down on the floor, with his back propped up against Birds’ knees, who in turn was propped up by the sofa where Badders sat.
“Hail to thee, blithe67 peewit, Birds thou never wert,” he remarked fatuously68.
“Never,” said Birds, suddenly opening his knees, so that Jim fell flat on the ground. He made no effort whatever to move, and continued lying there, while Birds got up and put a college cap on his head, and invested himself in a scholar’s gown, which, against his bare skin, looked somehow strangely indecent. He put his head on one side, in the manner of Jackson lecturing, and pulled the place where his moustache would have been, had he had one.
“I can’t think what Sphodrias was about,” he began, “and if you’ll turn to the third chapter of the fourth book you’ll see how perfectly69 inexplicable70 it was that he should have been kicking his heels at Sphacteria——”
He broke off.
“Lor! A very poor sort of fellow is Jackers,” he said.
“And if it hadn’t been for Jackers there’d have been no Julia,” remarked Jim, as he lay gazing at the ceiling from his prone71 position on the hearth-rug.
Julia’s victim considered this. He had found a small piece of duck left from the meal that he and Jim had made earlier in the evening, and decided72 it was worth eating.
“No, you’re wrong there,” he said. “There would have been Julia somehow, with or without Jackers. Julia’s the sort of girl who is bound to happen, like earwigs and Tripos. Julia Jackson! What a name! Did you ever hear such a name?{15}”
Badsley had sat up on the sofa and was regarding Birds as he sat eating duck with bare chest and bare arms, clad in his preposterous73 college cap and gown and pair of flannel trousers.
“Do put something else on, Birds,” he said, “or take something off. You make me blush. Why is it that a man with no clothes on is quite proper, but a man with no clothes and a top hat is so wildly improper74?”
“Dunno, and duncare. I’m quite comfortable, I am. I wish there was some more food.”
“Whereas in silks my Julia goes,” said Jim.
“Take her, then: she’s your Julia. You said so,” said Birds, with his mouth full. “That’s all right.”
“Birds, you talk about girls in a perfectly beastly way,” said Badsley.
“I don’t talk about them at all unless somebody else begins. Then I say what I think, like a little gentleman. I like girls, smart ones, like those in revues, just for a little while. Whereas Badders——”
“Badders the troubadour touched his guitar,” said Jim. “But I hope he won’t.”
“I won’t,” said Badders. “All the same, to pass through a single day without feeling keen about a girl seems to me an awful waste of time.”
“Gay Lothario,” said Jim. “Who is it now? Still the thing in the tobacconist’s shop?”
“No, you ass17, of course not. That was only——”
“Practice, to keep the Troubadour’s hand in,” said Birds. “Poor little devil! Think what you make them suffer, Badders. All the little victims in a row, dying for love of the lusty troubadour. Thing in the tobacconist’s shop has expired, I suppose. Who is it now?”
“It’s your grandmother,” said the nettled75 Badders.{16}
“Well, you have put your foot in it there,” said Birds serenely76. “She died last Sunday.”
“Oh, I say, I’m sorry,” said Badders.
Jim, lying on the floor, gave one loud puff77 of suppressed laughter, and was silent again; Badsley thought it odiously78 unfeeling of him.
“I say, Birds, I really am sorry,” he repeated.
“Yes, I know. That’s all right,” said Birds quietly. “How could you have told? Dear old Grannie! She always lived with us, you know.”
Badsley knew nothing of the sort, but his face grew long with penitence79.
“Well, I can’t say any more,” he remarked. “I think I’ll go to bed.”
Birds was leaning his elbows on the table, with his head in his hands. He spoke80 in a choked voice.
“Don’t think anything more about it, old chap,” he said. ’Twasn’t your fault.”
Badsley got up.
“Well, good-night, people,” he said.
“Stop a minute. As you have talked about Grannie, you might like to hear more about her. It wasn’t really such a blow, because she was eighty-five, and had cancer in the pit of her stomach. Also staggers.”
A faint conjecture81 dawned in Badsley’s mind.
“I say, are you ragging?” he asked.
“Of course I am. I haven’t had a grandmother for years, and I suppose I shall never get one now. I began too late. I can’t think what Sphodrias was about.”
Badsley stumbled over Jim, who was loudly cackling.
“I feel exactly as if I was in a lunatic asylum,” he said.
“You are: in the room where the violent cases are put. This is the padded room.{17}”
Birds squinted82 horribly, and with his beautiful mouth open and his tongue hanging out, began to count the fingers of one hand with those of the other. With his yellow hair falling over his forehead and his college cap perched on the back of his head, and his insane attire, he looked madder than anything in Bedlam83.
“Oh, stop it,” said Badders. “You’ll give me nightmare.”
“I’m one myself. But as we’ve disposed of my grandmother, who is she? Is she a shop-girl or a flower-girl or a barmaid?”
“None. She’s a lady.”
“I see. Tobacconist’s girl was a perfect lady: you often told me so,” said Jim. “Of the two, I think the imperfect kind is the best. They aren’t so damned refined.”
“You two fellows are absolutely idiotic,” said Badders. “There’s no point in anything unless a girl comes into it somehow. I shall go to bed.”
“Do,” said Birds cordially. “And mind you either slam the door or leave it open. Open or slammed: don’t shut it properly whatever happens.”
After this Badsley could hardly do less than slam the door first, and then throw it wide open. So Jim threw a cushion at it which shut it again.
“Badders is tedious,” he said, getting up from the floor. “He can only think of one subject in the whole world. Narrow, I call it. What’s the next thing to do?”
The two went to the window of these rooms on the ground floor and leaned out, sniffing84 the warm night air. The sky was moonless but very clear, and a host of stars made that amazing twilight85 which is like no other in the world for infinite suggestive softness. Instead of the blacks and whites of moonlight, the{18} world was painted in myriad86 shades of browns from the darkest hues87 of sepia where shadow lay over black, to a colour nearly yellow, where the rim26 of white stone round the fountain in the middle of the court stood open to the full galaxy88 of starlight. To the right the openwork of the stone screen that separated the court from the street outside let in the white garishness89 of the incandescent90 lamps, but it did not penetrate91 far, and the great windows and pinnacles92 of the chapel93 opposite, and the long block of the Fellows’ Buildings to the left were all submerged in this dim brown sea of starlight. There was a flower-box along the window from which they leaned, and a faint smell of musk94 and mignonette wandered into the room thick with tobacco smoke.
“Breath of air before bed, don’t you think?” said Jim. “Come on!”
“Yes, just as far as the bridge. Lend me a coat, will you? I should be proctorized for only having a cap and gown, shouldn’t I?”
“Probably. There’s a blazer.”
The two boys strolled into the night arm-in-arm and walked silently out on to the huge square of grass behind Fellows’ Buildings. A heavy dew had fallen after this hot day, and the surface of the grass was covered with a shimmering95 grey mantle96 of moisture, in which their steps made dark rents. Birds, as became him, whistled gently under his breath, but for a time neither of them broke the secret sense of intimate companionship by speech. No breeze stirred in the towers of the elms to the left; even the willow97 by the side of the bridge had no movement in its slim pendulous98 fingers of leaf, and the reflecting surface of the slow stream was unbroken by any wandering ripple99. Once or twice a feeding fish{19} made a dim pattern of concentric circles on the water, and still in silence, Birds struck a match to light a final cigarette. Though the night was so windless, he shielded it in his hands, and the light showed through the flesh of his fingers as through the walls of some rosy100 cave. For the moment his face was vividly101 illuminated102, then, as he dropped the match over the parapet, it was swallowed back into the darkness again. From below, after an interval103, came the faint hiss104 of the extinguished match.
The light close to his face had dazzled Jim a little, and after it had gone out he still had before his eyes, faintly swimming in the darkness, the semblance of Birds’ head.
“I can see you still,” he said, “though it’s dark. Why’s that? Oh, now you’ve gone.”
Birds drew on his cigarette.
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “I’m here all right. Ah, listen!”
Early though it was in the summer, this hot spell of weather had set the birds mating, and suddenly from the elms across the field beyond the bridge, there sounded the bubbling song of some love-entranced nightingale. Liquid and clear it rose and fell, with all spring behind it and all the promise of summer to follow. Four long notes it gave, and broke into a torrent105 of jubilant melody. It rose to the height of its ecstasy106 and suddenly stopped.
“Good bird,” said Jim appreciatively. “I call that sense.”
“Yes. Glad we came down here. But I’m glad Badders didn’t come too. It would have reminded him of that wench in the tobacconist’s shop, and he’d have told us about her bosom107 or her ankles, or something. Poor Badders; I do hate sentimental108 stuff. Lord! Wasn’t it funny about my grandmother?{20}”
“Yes; you see, Badders prides himself on always being in love. He isn’t an atom; he doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t care for the girl; he only cares for her nose or her arms. If he was in love he couldn’t jaw109 about it.”
Birds spat110 neatly111 over the parapet.
“I wonder. Perhaps there are different ways of being in love. But what a gay dog! Do you remember him at the fair in Midsummer Common, two girls, one on each knee and another round his neck. Something female he wants, and he doesn’t care what it is.”
“I know; that’s what’s so puzzling. I could understand if it was one girl he wanted, but it isn’t. Any old thing will do, as long as it’s young.”
“‘Well, I suppose it’s natur’. She’s a rum ’un, is Natur’,’ said Mr. Squeers. Badders is asleep by this time, dreaming of them all. I’d sooner be awake, leaning over this bridge.”
“Same here,” said Jim. “But Badders is a sensual sentimentalist. That’s what he is.”
Jim’s arm was conveniently laid out along the parapet, so Birds rested his chin on it.
“What do we do to-morrow?” he asked.
“You play for the ‘Varsity.”
“Blow it, so I do. I don’t blow it at all, really. I’m frightfully pleased that they’re playing me. But one can’t say that out loud, so one has to say one doesn’t care. The pity of it is that I shall get out first ball, and spend the rest of the day in missing catches. I wonder why I’m such a dam’ bad field?”
“Ask another. But do make a lot of runs. I so much prefer that you should.”
“And to think that it was you who put me into the eleven at school.”
“It was kind of me,” said Jim. “If I’d known yo{21}u’d have gone ahead of me like this, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I suppose not. You’re a jealous devil,” said Birds, speaking muffled112 against Jim’s arm.
“I am. Are we going to bed to-night?”
Birds yawned.
“I suppose we might. It’s about two in the morning, isn’t it?”
“There or thereabouts. Come on, you lazy hog113.”
Birds threw an arm round Jim’s neck.
“Lazy I am; hog I am not,” he observed. “Jim, what’s to happen to us? What’s it all going to be about? Shall we always go on like this?”
“I hope so. Don’t you? I don’t see what else I want.”
“No, but Cambridge will come to an end, and we shall go our ways, I suppose. Some day we shall meet each other, and find that we’ve drifted away. You’ll be father of one family, and I shall be father of another, and we shall look at each other and wonder if it really could have been we who sat on the bridge at midnight or a good deal after, and didn’t want anything else.”
“Rot,” said Jim.
“I wish I thought it was.”
“But it is. Can’t explain it properly, but I know it is. Perhaps——”
Jim thought a moment, as they drifted on to the grass again.
“It’s like this,” he said. “Whatever happens to us afterwards, this, the fact of you and me being friends, will be part of us. It’s built into us; we couldn’t get rid of it if we wanted to. We should have been other sorts of fellows if we hadn’t tumbled into each other, but now we’re just the sort we are.”
They had come back on to the tracks they had made{22} in the dew on their way down to the bridge, and Jim pointed114 at them.
“It’s like that,” he said. “We’ve walked right away off the grass and yet we come back to where we were when we went out. It’ll always be like that; there’ll always be the old tracks waiting for us. When you’re seventy-nine and I’m eighty and we’re both deaf and blind and rheumatic, there’ll be the tracks there just the same. ’Fraid I’ve been jawing115.”
“Well, what’s the harm?” said Birds.
“Bad habit to get into.”
They rambled116 back without further speech into Jim’s room, where Birds discarded his friend’s blazer and collected his own torn shirt.
“I shall have a good eye to-morrow,” he said, “because I’ve sat up so late, and smoked so much. The way to be thoroughly117 off colour is to go to bed early and have a long night. That makes you drowsy118 all next day.”
He nodded at Jim by way of good-night and went across the passage to his room just opposite.
With Birds playing for Cambridge, it was obvious that Jim would have to spend the whole of the next two days in the pavilion at the University ground, and deny himself the pleasure of attending any lectures which might have been provided for him by the College authorities. It was therefore a little unfortunate that he met his tutor proceeding119 in cap and gown to the lecture-room next morning, exactly at the moment when he himself came out into the court with a straw-hat and a pleasant holiday aspect.
Mr. Butler had the appearance of a butler, which was a very happy coincidence, an air of impenetrable respectability and mutton-chop whiskers. He prided himself{23} on the possession of a sarcastic120 tongue, the effect of which on his victims he believed to be as withering121 as a sirocco wind. For the present, however, he contented122 himself with an awful glance at Jim, for his sarcasm123 had to be carefully prepared. But since Birds had just telephoned down from the cricket ground that the University had won the toss and that he himself was going in third wicket, it was no use to dream of attending Mr. Butler’s discourse124 on Cicero’s essay on friendship, for the real thing called him.
The University had made a disastrous125 start when he arrived at the ground, and had lost two wickets for eleven runs. Jim made his way to the pavilion and there found Birds in a very clammy condition of nerves.
“Oh, hell, I wish you hadn’t come up,” he said. “I hate your being there when I make a fool of myself.”
“Remedy lies with you,” said Jim. “Don’t do it.”
“Can’t help it; my eye’s all wobbly. Why the deuce didn’t you let me go to bed in decent time last night?”
“Go on, say anything you like if it makes you feel better,” said Jim.
“It doesn’t, it makes me feel worse. Hell, there’s Tobin out.”
“Buck up, Birds,” said his friend.
Birds waited till the dejected batsman had entered the pavilion, put his cap on the seat, and took up his bat.
“Soon be back,” he observed morosely126.
“No you won’t. I shan’t see you again till lunch.”
“Oh,” said Birds, with a wealth of incredulity in his voice.
He had a word with the outcoming batsman, who was{24} captain of the Cambridge team, and was told to keep steady at all costs. But when your knees are trembling and the inside of your hands is damp with the dews of anxiety, such advice does not seem to be within the spheres of practical usefulness. And with a sinking heart that for the moment was far out of the range of any encouraging influence, he went forth127 on that awful pilgrimage to the scene of execution.
There ensued two or three extremely trying minutes. The wicket-keep appealed for a catch at the wickets off the first ball he received, in accents of supreme128 confidence. But the umpire happened to disagree with him. The next was a long-hop which Birds slashed129 at and completely missed, the third beat him as completely, and must have grazed his leg-stump. And if there was a thoroughly unhappy Pythias out there, there was an even more miserable130 Damon in the pavilion. Jim wished he was anywhere but here, watching this deplorable performance; had it been possible, he would have been back in the lecture-room, listening to Butler’s droning interpretation131 of Cicero’s remarks on friendship; anything was better than seeing his friend behave as if he had never had a bat in his hands before.
Then quite suddenly, while Birds was waiting for the return of the ball, that had so nearly dismissed him, Jim’s aspect of the situation struck him. Up till this moment he had only been conscious of his own nervousness; now as by a flash he realized how Jim must be hating it, and that would never do. And he ceased to wriggle51 his toes inside his cricket boots, and awaited the last ball of the over. It was a half-volley, just outside the leg-stump. About four seconds afterwards Jim picked it up from the seat on which it had fallen in the pavilion, and threw it out to square-leg. He gave two or three wild yells, and a long sigh of{25} relief. Never was there a more confident shot than that; nobody in a state of twittering nerves could possibly have played it. He made the sound deduction132 that Birds had suddenly pulled himself together.
As the morning wore on, the pavilion began to fill up; Tobin came and talked for a little, in a state of the highest disgust at himself, and soon Badsley also appeared. All the time the total on the telegraph board mounted with rapidity, for Birds was playing with that swift, effortless precision that made him the prettiest bat in the world to watch, if only he happened to be making runs. He had a trick of making difficult bowling133 appear perfectly easy, and put it away to all corners of the field. By one flick134 of his slim wrist he cut the ball late between point and slip, by another almost more imperceptible he sent it racing135 behind square-leg to the pavilion boundary. And as Jim had prophesied136, he did not have word with him again till he came across the field at lunch-time with eighty-two to his credit. But his innings were worth more than that to his side, for going in at a critical moment he had stopped the rot which had begun to set in.
There was the added excitement for Jim after lunch of seeing Birds make the necessary eighteen runs to complete his century, and it is certain that this engrossed137 him much more than any consideration of what the ‘Varsity total might be. Birds began by hitting three fours off the first over he received, and then a three and a two brought his total up to ninety-nine. He then skied a ball so high that it looked as if it really might be going to soar beyond the power of the earth’s attraction, and become a new and sporting planet. But it failed quite to reach the required altitude, and after a pause that seemed to last many minutes he was{26} caught at long on, and retired138 amid rounds of applause and sympathetic yellings.
“Bloody ass,” said Jim to him, as he came into the pavilion.
“Rather. Did you ever see a ball go so high? Hullo, there’s Badders. Why not amorously139 engaged, Badders? Lord, I have been enjoying myself, and I want an enormous drink, and why should not the young Cantab have one? One or two, several, in fact, as the Red King said——”
’Twasn’t, it was the White Knight140.”
“I daresay. As long as it got said, what’s the odds141? Ninety-nine; that’s what they tell you to say when they think you’ve got consumption. Shall I have tea first and three bottles of ginger-beer afterwards, or the other way round? Good-bye. ”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
colloquially
|
|
| adv.用白话，用通俗语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
guttered
|
|
| vt.形成沟或槽于…（gutter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
lexicon
|
|
| n.字典，专门词汇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
sociable
|
|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
hemlock
|
|
| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
soda
|
|
| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
guttering
|
|
| n.用于建排水系统的材料；沟状切除术；开沟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
exuberance
|
|
| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
digestion
|
|
| n.消化，吸收 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
precipices
|
|
| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
volcanic
|
|
| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
trot
|
|
| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rim
|
|
| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
anticipations
|
|
| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
stainless
|
|
| adj.无瑕疵的，不锈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
discrepancy
|
|
| n.不同；不符；差异；矛盾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
robin
|
|
| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
amalgamation
|
|
| n.合并，重组；；汞齐化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
flannel
|
|
| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
attire
|
|
| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
oysters
|
|
| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
pier
|
|
| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
buxom
|
|
| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
misogynistic
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
conversion
|
|
| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
spine
|
|
| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
squeaks
|
|
| n.短促的尖叫声，吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
entangled
|
|
| 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 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
wriggle
|
|
| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
wriggled
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
upheaval
|
|
| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
fowl
|
|
| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
dart
|
|
| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
darts
|
|
| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
semblance
|
|
| n.外貌，外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
consecutive
|
|
| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stumps
|
|
| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
creases
|
|
| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
fig
|
|
| n.无花果(树) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
delirious
|
|
| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
blithe
|
|
| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
fatuously
|
|
| adv.愚昧地，昏庸地，蠢地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
improper
|
|
| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
nettled
|
|
| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
serenely
|
|
| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
puff
|
|
| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
odiously
|
|
| Odiously | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
penitence
|
|
| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
squinted
|
|
| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
bedlam
|
|
| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
sniffing
|
|
| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
myriad
|
|
| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
hues
|
|
| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
galaxy
|
|
| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
garishness
|
|
| n.鲜艳夺目，炫耀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
incandescent
|
|
| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
pinnacles
|
|
| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
musk
|
|
| n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物，香猫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
mantle
|
|
| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
pendulous
|
|
| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
ripple
|
|
| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
vividly
|
|
| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
hiss
|
|
| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
jaw
|
|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
hog
|
|
| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
jawing
|
|
| n.用水灌注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
rambled
|
|
| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
sarcastic
|
|
| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
withering
|
|
| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
sarcasm
|
|
| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
disastrous
|
|
| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
morosely
|
|
| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
deduction
|
|
| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
bowling
|
|
| n.保龄球运动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
flick
|
|
| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
prophesied
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
engrossed
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
amorously
|
|
| adv.好色地，妖艳地；脉；脉脉；眽眽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |