"Macknight on the Epistles,—that's the name of the book?"
"Yes, sir, if you please. I am desirous of consulting it with a view—"
"Well, this way, Mr. Jacobs. Here's the librarian. Mr. Stillingfleet, let me introduce my friend, the Reverend Mr. Jacobs, of West Weathersfield."
"I am proud to make your acquaintance, sir," said Mr. Jacobs, taking the librarian's hand with an air of diffident veneration1.
"Mr. Jacobs wishes to consult Mackwright on the Epistles."
"Macknight, if you please, Dr. Steele."
"O, Macknight. Will you be so kind as to let him have the use of it in my name?"
"If you will go with Mr. Rubens, sir," said the librarian, "he will show you the book."
"Thank you, sir," replied Mr. Jacobs, to whom the words were addressed; and he followed the assistant among the alcoves2 in a timid, tiptoe progress, for, to him, the very air he breathed seemed redolent of learning, and the dust beneath his feet consecrated4 to science.
Dr. Steele remained behind, conversing5 with the librarian.
"My friend has something of the ancient apostolic simplicity6 hanging about him still. He looks with as much awe7 at Harvard College library as I did myself forty-five years ago, when I came down from Steuben to join the freshman8 class."
"So you came from Steuben! Did not old John Morton come from the same place?"
"To be sure he did. He was the glory of the town. He pulled down the old clapboard meeting house that his father used to preach in, and built a new one for him: besides giving a start in business to half the young men of the village."
"He is John Morton's son."
"Is it possible? I remember him when he was a child, but have not seen him for these ten years. After his father's death, his mother took him to Europe, to be educated; but she never came back; she died in Paris."
"He is Mr. Morton's only child—is he not?"
"Yes; his first wife had no children; and after he had buried her,—which, by the way, I believe was the happiest hour of his life,—he married a very different sort of person, Margaret Vassall, this boy's mother."
"What, one of the old Vassall race?"
"Exactly; and, I suppose, the last survivor11. I used to know her. She was a handsome woman, and, bating her family pride, altogether a very fine character. She managed her husband admirably."
"Why, what need had John Morton of being managed?"
"O, Morton was a noble old gentleman, a merchant of the old school, and generous as the day; but he had his faults. He made nothing of his three bottles of Madeira at dinner, and besides— Ah, Mr. Jacobs, so you have found Macknight."
"Yes, sir," said Mr. Jacobs, coming up, "I have the volumes."
"See that young man, yonder. That's the son of your old friend, Mr. Morton."
"Really! upon my word! Ah! Mr. Morton was a friend to me, sir—a very kind friend."
And, in the simplicity of his heart, Mr. Jacobs glided12 up to the student, and blandly13 accosted14 him.
"How do you do, young gentleman? I knew your worthy15 father. I knew him well. I have often sat at his hospitable16 board on anniversary week."
Thus addressed, Vassall Morton looked up from his book,—it was Froissart's Chronicle,—inclined his head in acknowledgment, and waited to hear more.
"Ahem!" coughed Mr. Jacobs, a little embarrassed: "your father was a most worthy and estimable gentleman: a true friend of the feeble and destitute17. Ahem!—what class are you in, Mr. Morton?"
"The junior class," said the young man, a suppressed smile flickering18 at the corner of his mouth.
"Ahem! I hope, sir, that, like your father, you will long live to be an honor to your native town."
"Thank you, sir."
"I wish you good morning."
"Good morning, sir," said Morton, divided between an inclination19 to smile at the odd, humble20 little figure before him, and an unwillingness21 to wound the other's feelings.
"Are you ready to go, Mr. Jacobs?" said Dr. Steele.
"If you please, sir, we will now take our departure;"—gathering the four volumes of Macknight on the Epistles under his arm;—"Good morning, Mr. Stillingfleet; good morning, Mr. Rubens. I am indebted to your kindness, gentlemen—ahem!"
"This is the way out, Mr. Jacobs," said Steele to his diffident friend from West Weathersfield, who, in his embarrassment22, was going out at the wrong door.
"I beg your pardon, sir—ahem!" replied Mr. Jacobs, with a bashful smile. And Dr. Steele, pointing to the true exit, ushered23 his rustic24 and reverend protégé from the sacred precinct of learning.
点击收听单词发音
1 veneration | |
n.尊敬,崇拜 | |
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2 alcoves | |
n.凹室( alcove的名词复数 );(花园)凉亭;僻静处;壁龛 | |
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3 alcove | |
n.凹室 | |
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4 consecrated | |
adj.神圣的,被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣,给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 );奉献 | |
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5 conversing | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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6 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
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7 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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8 freshman | |
n.大学一年级学生(可兼指男女) | |
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9 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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10 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
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11 survivor | |
n.生存者,残存者,幸存者 | |
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12 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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13 blandly | |
adv.温和地,殷勤地 | |
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14 accosted | |
v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 );跟…搭讪;(乞丐等)上前向…乞讨;(妓女等)勾搭 | |
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15 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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16 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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17 destitute | |
adj.缺乏的;穷困的 | |
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18 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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19 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
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20 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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21 unwillingness | |
n. 不愿意,不情愿 | |
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22 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
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23 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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