That was what Ham Fishley said to me.
"Black them yourself!"
That was what I said to Ham Fishley.
Neither of us was gentlemanly, nor even civil. I shall not apologize for myself, and certainly not for Ham, though he inherited his mean, tyrannical disposition2 from both his father and his mother. If he had civilly asked me to black his boots, I would have done it. If he had just told me that he was [12]going to a party, that he was a little late, and asked me if I would assist him, I would have jumped over his head to oblige him, though he was three inches taller than I was. I am willing to go a step farther. If this had been the first, or even the twentieth, time that Ham had treated me in this shabby manner, I would have submitted. For three years he had been going on from bad to worse, till he seemed to regard me not only as a dog, but as the meanest sort of a dog, whom he could kick and cuff3 at pleasure.
I had stood this sort of thing till I could not stand it any longer. I had lain awake nights thinking of the treatment bestowed4 upon me by Captain Fishley and his wife, and especially by their son Ham; and I had come deliberately5 to the conclusion that something must be done. I was not a hired servant, in the ordinary sense of the term; but, whether I was or was not a servant, I was entitled to some consideration.
"What's that you say?" demanded Ham, leaping over the counter of the store.
I walked leisurely6 out of the shop, and directed my steps towards the barn; but I had not accomplished7 [13]half the distance before my tyrant8 overtook me. Not being willing to take the fire in the rear, I halted, wheeled about, and drew up in order of battle. I had made up my mind to keep perfectly9 cool, whatever came; and when one makes up his mind to be cool, it is not half so hard to succeed as some people seem to think.
"I told you to black my boots," said Ham, angrily.
"I know you did."
"Well, Buck Bradford, you'll do it!"
"Well, Ham Fishley, I won't do it!"
"Won't you?"
"No!"
"Then I'll make you."
"Go on."
He stepped up to me; but I didn't budge10 an inch. I braced11 up every fibre of my frame in readiness for the shock of battle; but there was no shock of battle about it.
"I guess I'll let the old man settle this," said Ham, after a glance at me, which seemed very unsatisfactory.
"All right," I replied.
My tyrant turned on his heel, and hastened back [14]to the store. Ham Fishley's father was "the old man," and I knew that it would not be for the want of any good will on his part, if the case was not settled by him. I had rebelled, and I must take my chances. I went to the barn, harnessed the black horse to the wagon12, and hitched13 him at a post in the yard, in readiness to go down to Riverport for the mail, which I used to do every evening after supper.
Of course my thoughts were mainly fixed14 upon the settlement with the old man; and I expected every moment to see him rushing upon me, like an untamed tiger, to wreak15 his vengeance16 upon my head. I was rather surprised at his non-appearance, and rather disappointed, too; for I preferred to fight the battle at the barn, or in the yard, instead of in the house or the store. Though my thoughts were not on my work, I busied myself in sweeping17 out the horse's stall, and making his bed for the night.
"Buck! Buck! Buck!" called Mrs. Fishley, from the back door of the house.
She always called three times; for she was a little, snappy, snarling18 woman, who never spoke19 [15]pleasantly to any one, except when she had company, or went to the sewing circle.
"Here, marm!" I replied.
"Come here; I want you!" she added, clear up in the highest tones of her voice, which sounded very much like the savage20 notes of an angry wasp21.
It was some consolation22 to know, under the peculiar23 circumstances, that she wanted me, instead of "the old man," her lord and master, and that I was not called to the expected settlement, which, in spite of my fixed determination, I could not help dreading24. Mrs. Fishley wanted me—not her husband. She was always wanting me; and somehow I never happened to be in the right place, or to do anything in the right way.
Mrs. Fishley believed she was one of the most amiable25, self-denying, self-sacrificing, benevolent26 women in the world. Nobody else believed it. She had to endure more trials, bear more crosses, undergo more hardships, than any other housekeeper27 in town. She had to work harder, to think of more things, stagger under more burdens, than all her female neighbors put together. If she ever confessed [16]that she was sometimes just a little cross, she wanted to know who could wonder at it, when she had so much to do, and so many things to think of. Job could be patient, for he had not her family to look after. The saints and martyrs28 could bow resignedly at the stake in the midst of the flaming fagots; but none of them had to keep house for a husband and three children, and two of them not her own.
To make a fair and just division of Mrs. Fishley's cares, one tenth of them were real, and nine tenths of them were imaginary; and the imaginary ones were more real to her than the actual ones. They soured her temper,—or, more properly, her temper soured them,—and she groaned29, complained, snarled30, snapped, and fretted31, from very early on Sunday morning to very late on Saturday evening. Nothing ever went right with her; nothing ever suited her. If a thing was one way, that was the especial reason why it ought to have been some other way.
She always wanted her own way; and when she had it—which she generally did—it did not suit her any better. I am inclined to think that Captain Fishley himself, at some remote period, long before I was [17]born, had been a more decent man than he was at the time of which I write. If he ever had been, his degeneracy was easily explained; for it would not have been possible for a human being, in daily contact with such a shrewish spitfire as his wife, to exist untainted in the poison which floated in the atmosphere around her.
This was the woman who inflicted32 herself upon the world, and upon me, though I was by no means the greatest sufferer. If the mischief33 had stopped here, I could have borne it, and the world could not have helped itself. To me there was something infinitely34 worse and more intolerable than my own trials—and they were the trials of my poor, dear, deformed35, invalid36 sister. Tender, loving, and patient as she was under them, her sufferings made my blood boil with indignation. If Mrs. Fishley had treated Flora37 kindly38, she would have been an angel in my sight, however much she snapped and snarled, and "drove me from pillar to post." The shrew did not treat her kindly, and as the poor child was almost always in the house, she was constantly exposed to the obliquities of her temper.[18]
My mother, for several years before her death, had been of feeble constitution, and Flora had the "rickets39" when she was a babe. She was now twelve years old, but the effects of the disease still lingered in her frame. Her limbs were weak, her breast-bone projected, and she was so drawn40 up that she looked like a "humpback." But what she lacked in body she more than made up in spirit, in the loveliness of an amiable disposition, in an unselfish devotion to others, in a loving heart, and a quick intelligence. She endured, without complaint, the ill nature of Mrs. Fishley, endeavoring, by every means in her power, to make herself useful in the house, and to lighten the load of cares which bore down so heavily upon her hostess.
Mrs. Fishley called me, and I hastened to attend upon her will and pleasure, in the back room. I knew very well that it would make no difference whether I hurried or not; I should "have to take it" the moment she saw me. If I was in the barn, I ought to have been in the shop; if in the shop, then I should have been in the barn—unless she had company; and then she was all sweetness, all gentleness; then she was all merciful and compassionate41.[19]
"What are you doing out there?" snarled she. "I've been out in the street and into the store after you, and you always are just where no one can find you when you are wanted."
I didn't say anything; it wasn't any use.
"Take that bucket of swill42 out, and give it to the pigs; and next time don't leave it till it is running over full," she continued, in the same amiable, sweet-tempered tones. "It's strange you can't do anything till you are told to do it. Don't you know that swill-pail wants emptying, without being told of it?"
"I always feed the pigs three times a day whether the pail wants emptying or not," I ventured to reply, in defence of the pigs rather than myself.
"There, carry it along, and don't spill it."
The pail was filled even with the brim, and it was simply impossible to avoid spilling it.
"What a careless fellow you are!" screamed she, her notes on the second added line above the treble staff. "You are spilling it all over the floor! I wish you could learn to do anything like folks!"
I wished I could too; but I did not venture to suggest that if she had not filled the pail so full, [20]and even run it over herself before I touched it, I might have carried it "like folks." It was no use; she always got the better of me in an argument. I fed the pigs, as I always did, before I went after the mail, and carried the pail back to the shed. The door of the kitchen was open, and Mrs. Fishley was returning to her work as I entered.
"You careless child! What do you mean by letting those cakes burn?" I heard her cry to poor Flora, who was sitting in her arm-chair by the cooking-stove, whereon Mrs. Fishley was baking flapjacks for supper.
"I didn't know—"
"You didn't know, you careless hussy!" exclaimed Mrs. Fishley, seizing her by the arm, and lifting her roughly out of her chair.
"O, don't!" groaned poor Flora.
I could not stand that. I rushed into the kitchen, seized poor Flora's tyrant by the shoulders, and hurled43 her half way across the room. My blood was up to the boiling point.
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收听单词发音
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1
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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3
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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4
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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7
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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8
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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9
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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10
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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12
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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13
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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14
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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15
wreak
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| v.发泄；报复 | |
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16
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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18
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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19
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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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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25
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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26
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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27
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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28
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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29
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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30
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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31
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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32
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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37
flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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38
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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39
rickets
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| n.软骨病，佝偻病，驼背 | |
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40
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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41
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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42
swill
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| v.冲洗；痛饮；n.泔脚饲料；猪食；（谈话或写作中的）无意义的话 | |
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43
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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