Who that dwells in America has not heard of the bright fields and green hedges of England, and longed to behold3 them? Even so had it been with me; and now that I was actually in England, I resolved not to go away without having a good, long look at the open fields.
On a Sunday morning I started, with a lunch in my pocket. It was a beautiful day in July; the air was sweet with the breath of buds and flowers, and there was a green splendor5 in the landscape that ravished me. Soon I gained an elevation6 commanding a wide sweep of view; and meadow and mead7, and woodland and hedge, were all around me.
Ay, ay! this was old England, indeed! I had found it at last—there it was in the country! Hovering8 over the scene was a soft, dewy air, that seemed faintly tinged9 with the green of the grass; and I thought, as I breathed my breath, that perhaps I might be inhaling10 the very particles once respired by Rosamond the Fair.
On I trudged11 along the London road—smooth as an entry floor—and every white cottage I passed, embosomed in honeysuckles, seemed alive in the landscape.
But the day wore on; and at length the sun grew hot; and the long road became dusty. I thought that some shady place, in some shady field, would be very pleasant to repose12 in. So, coming to a charming little dale, undulating down to a hollow, arched over with foliage13, I crossed over toward it; but paused by the road-side at a frightful14 announcement, nailed against an old tree, used as a gate-post—
"MAN-TRAPS AND SPRING-GUNS!"
In America I had never heard of the like. What could it mean? They were not surely cannibals, that dwelt down in that beautiful little dale, and lived by catching15 men, like weasels and beavers16 in Canada!
"A man-trap!" It must be so. The announcement could bear but one meaning—that there was something near by, intended to catch human beings; some species of mechanism17, that would suddenly fasten upon the unwary rover, and hold him by the leg like a dog; or, perhaps, devour18 him on the spot.
Incredible! In a Christian19 land, too! Did that sweet lady, Queen Victoria, permit such diabolical20 practices? Had her gracious majesty21 ever passed by this way, and seen the announcement?
And who put it there?
The proprietor22, probably.
And what right had he to do so?
Why, he owned the soil.
And where are his title-deeds?
In his strong-box, I suppose.
Thus I stood wrapt in cogitations.
You are a pretty fellow, Wellingborough, thought I to myself; you are a mighty23 traveler, indeed:—stopped on your travels by a man-trap! Do you think Mungo Park was so served in Africa? Do you think Ledyard was so entreated24 in Siberia? Upon my word, you will go home not very much wiser than when you set out; and the only excuse you can give, for not having seen more sights, will be man-traps—mantraps, my masters! that frightened you!
And then, in my indignation, I fell back upon first principles. What right has this man to the soil he thus guards with dragons? What excessive effrontery25, to lay sole claim to a solid piece of this planet, right down to the earth's axis26, and, perhaps, straight through to the antipodes! For a moment I thought I would test his traps, and enter the forbidden Eden.
But the grass grew so thickly, and seemed so full of sly things, that at last I thought best to pace off.
Next, I came to a hawthorn27 lane, leading down very prettily28 to a nice little church; a mossy little church; a beautiful little church; just such a church as I had always dreamed to be in England. The porch was viny as an arbor29; the ivy30 was climbing about the tower; and the bees were humming about the hoary31 old head-stones along the walls.
Any man-traps here? thought I—any spring-guns?
No.
So I walked on, and entered the church, where I soon found a seat. No Indian, red as a deer, could have startled the simple people more. They gazed and they gazed; but as I was all attention to the sermon, and conducted myself with perfect propriety32, they did not expel me, as at first I almost imagined they might.
Service over, I made my way through crowds of children, who stood staring at the marvelous stranger, and resumed my stroll along the London Road.
"Good day," said I.
"Good day; from Liverpool?"
"I guess so."
"For London?"
"No; not this time. I merely come to see the country."
At this, they gazed at each other; and I, at myself; having doubts whether I might not look something like a horse-thief.
"Thank you."
And then, little by little, we got into a long talk: in the course of which, I told who I was, and where I was from. I found these rustics a good-natured, jolly set; and I have no doubt they found me quite a sociable35 youth. They treated me to ale; and I treated them to stories about America, concerning which, they manifested the utmost curiosity. One of them, however, was somewhat astonished that I had not made the acquaintance of a brother of his, who had resided somewhere on the banks of the Mississippi for several years past; but among twenty millions of people, I had never happened to meet him, at least to my knowledge.
At last, leaving this party, I pursued my way, exhilarated by the lively conversation in which I had shared, and the pleasant sympathies exchanged: and perhaps, also, by the ale I had drunk:—fine old ale; yes, English ale, ale brewed36 in England! And I trod English soil; and breathed English air; and every blade of grass was an Englishman born. Smoky old Liverpool, with all its pitch and tar4 was now far behind; nothing in sight but open meadows and fields.
Come, Wellingborough, why not push on for London?— Hurra! what say you? let's have a peep at St. Paul's? Don't you want to see the queen? Have you no longing37 to behold the duke? Think of Westminster Abbey, and the Tunnel under the Thames! Think of Hyde Park, and the ladies!
But then, thought I again, with my hands wildly groping in my two vacuums of pockets—who's to pay the bill?—You can't beg your way, Wellingborough; that would never do; for you are your father's son, Wellingborough; and you must not disgrace your family in a foreign land; you must not turn pauper38.
Ah! Ah! it was indeed too true; there was no St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey for me; that was flat.
Well, well, up heart, you'll see it one of these days.
But think of it! here I am on the very road that leads to the Thames—think of that!—here I am—ay, treading in the wheel-tracks of coaches that are bound for the metropolis39!—It was too bad; too bitterly bad. But I shoved my old hat over my brows, and walked on; till at last I came to a green bank, deliriously40 shaded by a fine old tree with broad branching arms, that stretched themselves over the road, like a hen gathering41 her brood under her wings. Down on the green grass I threw myself and there lay my head, like a last year's nut. People passed by, on foot and in carriages, and little thought that the sad youth under the tree was the great-nephew of a late senator in the American Congress.
Presently, I started to my feet, as I heard a gruff voice behind me from the field, crying out—"What are you doing there, you young rascal42?—run away from the work'us, have ye? Tramp, or I'll set Blucher on ye!"
And who was Blucher? A cut-throat looking dog, with his black bull-muzzle thrust through a gap in the hedge. And his master? A sturdy farmer, with an alarming cudgel in his hand.
"Come, are you going to start?" he cried.
"Presently," said I, making off with great dispatch. When I had got a few yards into the middle of the highroad (which belonged as much to me as it did to the queen herself), I turned round, like a man on his own premises43, and said— "Stranger! if you ever visit America, just call at our house, and you'll always find there a dinner and a bed. Don't fail."
I then walked on toward Liverpool, full of sad thoughts concerning the cold charities of the world, and the infamous44 reception given to hapless young travelers, in broken-down shooting-jackets.
On, on I went, along the skirts of forbidden green fields; until reaching a cottage, before which I stood rooted.
So sweet a place I had never seen: no palace in Persia could be pleasanter; there were flowers in the garden; and six red cheeks, like six moss-roses, hanging from the casement45. At the embowered doorway46, sat an old man, confidentially47 communing with his pipe: while a little child, sprawling48 on the ground, was playing with his shoestrings49. A hale matron, but with rather a prim50 expression, was reading a journal by his side: and three charmers, three Peris, three Houris! were leaning out of the window close by.
Ah! Wellingborough, don't you wish you could step in?
With a heavy heart at his cheerful sigh, I was turning to go, when—is it possible? the old man called me back, and invited me in.
"Come, come," said he, "you look as if you had walked far; come, take a bowl of milk. Matilda, my dear" (how my heart jumped), "go fetch some from the dairy." And the white-handed angel did meekly51 obey, and handed me—me, the vagabond, a bowl of bubbling milk, which I could hardly drink down, for gazing at the dew on her lips.
As I live, I could have married that charmer on the spot!
She was by far the most beautiful rosebud52 I had yet seen in England. But I endeavored to dissemble my ardent53 admiration54; and in order to do away at once with any unfavorable impressions arising from the close scrutiny55 of my miserable56 shooting-jacket, which was now taking place, I declared myself a Yankee sailor from Liverpool, who was spending a Sunday in the country.
"Good madam, I have; the little church down yonder, you know—a most excellent sermon—I am much the better for it."
I wanted to mollify this severe looking old lady; for even my short experience of old ladies had convinced me that they are the hereditary58 enemies of all strange young men.
I soon turned the conversation toward America, a theme which I knew would be interesting, and upon which I could be fluent and agreeable. I strove to talk in Addisonian English, and ere long could see very plainly that my polished phrases were making a surprising impression, though that miserable shooting-jacket of mine was a perpetual drawback to my claims to gentility.
Spite of all my blandishments, however, the old lady stood her post like a sentry59; and to my inexpressible chagrin60, kept the three charmers in the background, though the old man frequently called upon them to advance. This fine specimen61 of an old Englishman seemed to be quite as free from ungenerous suspicions as his vinegary spouse62 was full of them. But I still lingered, snatching furtive63 glances at the young ladies, and vehemently64 talking to the old man about Illinois, and the river Ohio, and the fine farms in the Genesee country, where, in harvest time, the laborers65 went into the wheat fields a thousand strong.
Stick to it, Wellingborough, thought I; don't give the old lady time to think; stick to it, my boy, and an invitation to tea will reward you. At last it came, and the old lady abated66 her frowns.
It was the most delightful of meals; the three charmers sat all on one side, and I opposite, between the old man and his wife. The middle charmer poured out the souchong, and handed me the buttered muffins; and such buttered muffins never were spread on the other side of the Atlantic. The butter had an aromatic67 flavor; by Jove, it was perfectly68 delicious.
And there they sat—the charmers, I mean—eating these buttered muffins in plain sight. I wished I was a buttered muffin myself. Every minute they grew handsomer and handsomer; and I could not help thinking what a fine thing it would be to carry home a beautiful English wife! how my friends would stare! a lady from England!
I might have been mistaken; but certainly I thought that Matilda, the one who had handed me the milk, sometimes looked rather benevolently69 in the direction where I sat. She certainly did look at my jacket; and I am constrained70 to think at my face. Could it be possible she had fallen in love at first sight? Oh, rapture71! But oh, misery72! that was out of the question; for what a looking suitor was Wellingborough?
At length, the old lady glanced toward the door, and made some observations about its being yet a long walk to town. She handed me the buttered muffins, too, as if performing a final act of hospitality; and in other fidgety ways vaguely73 hinted her desire that I should decamp.
Slowly I rose, and murmured my thanks, and bowed, and tried to be off; but as quickly I turned, and bowed, and thanked, and lingered again and again. Oh, charmers! oh, Peris! thought I, must I go? Yes, Wellingborough, you must; so I made one desperate congee74, and darted75 through the door.
I have never seen them since: no, nor heard of them; but to this day I live a bachelor on account of those ravishing charmers.
As the long twilight76 was waning77 deeper and deeper into the night, I entered the town; and, plodding78 my solitary79 way to the same old docks, I passed through the gates, and scrambled80 my way among tarry smells, across the tiers of ships between the quay81 and the Highlander82. My only resource was my bunk83; in I turned, and, wearied with my long stroll, was soon fast asleep, dreaming of red cheeks and roses.
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收听单词发音
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1
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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14
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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15
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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beavers
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| 海狸( beaver的名词复数 )； 海狸皮毛； 棕灰色； 拼命工作的人 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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22
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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27
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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31
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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32
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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rustics
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| n.有农村或村民特色的( rustic的名词复数 )；粗野的；不雅的；用粗糙的木材或树枝制作的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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deliriously
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| adv.谵妄（性）；发狂；极度兴奋/亢奋；说胡话 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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48
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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49
shoestrings
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| n.以极少的钱( shoestring的名词复数 ) | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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51
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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52
rosebud
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| n.蔷薇花蕾，妙龄少女 | |
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53
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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54
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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55
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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56
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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73
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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congee
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| vi.告别，鞠躬；n.稀饭 | |
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75
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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76
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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77
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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78
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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79
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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80
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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81
quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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82
highlander
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| n.高地的人，苏格兰高地地区的人 | |
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83
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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