The idea of Mrs. Fishley's taking my poor deformed3 sister by the arm, and shaking her, was too revolting, and even horrible, to be endured. If I could bear everything else, I could not bear that. At the present time, I have this pleasant consciousness, that I did not strike the woman; I only grasped her by the shoulders, and hurled4 her away from her victim. It was a vigorous movement on my part, [22]and Mrs. Fishley staggered till she saved herself by taking hold of a chair. She gathered herself up, and her eyes flashed fire.
"You rascal5, you! What do you mean?" gasped6 she; and at the same instant she rushed towards Flora7, who was trembling with terror in her chair.
"Stop a minute, Mrs. Fishley," I added.
"You rascal, you!" repeated she, looking first at me, and then at Flora.
"If you put the weight of your little finger on my sister again, I'll tear you in pieces," I continued, with both fists clinched8.
"What do you mean, you serpent, you?"
"You touch her again, and you will know what I mean."
"Don't, Buckland, don't," pleaded poor Flora, alarmed by the hostile demonstration10 before her.
"I should like to know!" cried Mrs. Fishley.
As she did not tell me what she should like to know, I did not tell her. I stood upon the defensive11 between the virago12 and my sister's chair.
SHE RUSHED TOWARDS FLORA.—Page 22.
"Did any one ever see such a boy!" continued the termagant, her tones a whole octave above the [23]treble staff, as it seemed to me. "How dare you put your hand on me?"
"I dare."
"You rascal, you!"
"You may snap and snarl13 at me as much as you like; I don't mind it; but you shall not abuse my sister."
"Abuse your sister, you wretch14!" said she, the words hissing15 from her mouth. "I should like to know!"
"You will know if you touch Flora again," I answered.
Somehow I felt as though Mrs. Fishley was not getting the better of me in this argument; and I soon came to the conclusion that she thought so herself, for she settled into a chair, and began to exhibit some symptoms of hysterics.
"O, dear me!" she groaned16. "I don't have to work enough to kill common folks, I don't have more trials than any living being, but something new must come upon me. There, I shall give up!"
"You must give up abusing Flora," I put in.
"How dare you tell me I abuse her?" snapped [24]she. "Haven't I taken the best of care of her? Haven't I made her clothes for her? Haven't I nursed her when she was sick? Haven't I done for her ever since she came into the house?"
I don't think she had the least idea that she was not the best friend Flora had in the world, so blind are many people to their own errors and shortcomings.
"She has had enough to eat, and enough to wear; and my brother has paid for all she has had," I added. "But you are continually scolding at her, browbeating17 her, and making her as uncomfortable and unhappy as you can."
"Scolding her!" almost whistled Mrs. Fishley, so high was the key. "I never scold at any one. I never was a scolding woman."
"Gracious!" I exclaimed, mentally.
"When things don't suit me, I'm apt to say so; but I never scold," whined18 the shrew. "Whatever people may say of me, they can't call me a scolding woman."
Was it possible she thought so!
"I don't want to make any trouble, Mrs. Fishley,"[25] I replied, when she paused, rather for want of breath than for any other reason.
"Mercy! I shouldn't think you did! Ain't you ashamed of yourself to treat me as you did? You push me about as though you thought I wasn't anybody."
"Are you not ashamed of yourself for shaking that sick child?" I retorted.
"I didn't shake her."
"Then I didn't push you."
"You are getting to be a very bad boy, Buck9 Bradford; and you haven't heard the last of this," she said, rising from her chair, and restoring the griddle to the stove, which Flora had taken off. "I should like to know! Can't I speak to that girl without being treated in that manner? She would let the cakes all burn up before she would touch them."
"I didn't know they were burning, Mrs. Fishley," pleaded Flora. "You didn't tell me to see to them."
"Suppose I didn't tell you! Didn't you know enough not to let them burn? You are a careless, [26]indifferent girl, and it don't make no difference to you how much trouble you make for a body."
"I would have seen to the cakes, if you had spoken to me."
"I don't care anything about the cakes, anyhow," I interposed. "If you can't help scolding Flora, you must keep your hands off her."
"You don't care anything about the cakes! I should like to know! Well, we'll see about it! I'll know who rules here, I vum! I'll call Mr. Fishley! We'll see if you don't care!" rattled19 Mrs. Fishley, as she bolted from the kitchen through the entry into the store.
"O, Buckland, what will become of us!" exclaimed Flora, rising with difficulty from her chair, and throwing herself upon my breast.
"Don't be afraid, Flora," I replied, pressing her to my heart, while the tears started in my eyes. "She shall not abuse you, whatever happens to me. While she did it only with her tongue, I bore it; but when she took hold of you, I couldn't stand that, Flora—no, I could not."
"I can bear it very well, Buckland." She never [27]called me "Buck," as everybody else did about the place. "I only fear what they will do to you."
"I can take care of myself, dearest Flora. I am strong and tough, and I can stand almost anything," I answered, pressing her to my heart again, for she seemed to be the only person in the world who loved me.
And how I loved her—poor orphan20 child, weak, sick, and deformed! It seemed to me it would have been different if she had been well and strong, and able to fight her own battle with the hard and cruel world. She was helpless and dependent, and that which shut her out from the rest of the world endeared her to me, and wound her in with every fibre and tendril of my heart.
Mrs. Fishley did not immediately return; neither did her husband appear upon the battle-field; and I concluded that she could not find him.
While, folded in each other's arms, we waited in almost breathless anxiety for the coming of our tyrants21, let me give the reader a few necessary particulars in regard to our antecedents and surroundings.[28]
Torrentville, where the story opens, is situated22 in the south-western part of Wisconsin, though, for obvious reasons, it will not be found on the map. It was located on a stream, which we called the "Creek," though it has since received a more dignified23 and specific name, about seven miles from Riverport, on the Wisconsin River. At the time of which I write it contained two thousand inhabitants. Captain Fishley—he had been an officer in the militia24 in some eastern state, and his title had gone west with him—kept the principal store in the place, and was the postmaster.
My father had moved from the State of New York to Torrentville when I was eight years old, and soon after the death of my mother. He had three children, Clarence, Flora, and myself. He bought a farm just out of the village, employed a housekeeper25, and for four years got along very well. But he was too ambitious, and worked too hard for his constitution. After a four years' residence in the west, he died. That was a sad day to us, for he was the kindest of fathers. Poor Flora scarcely ceased to weep, at times, for a year, over the loss of her only parent.[29]
Captain Fishley was appointed administrator26 of the estate, and when it was settled there was hardly fifteen hundred dollars left. My brother Clarence was just twenty-one when my father died, and he was appointed the guardian27 of Flora and myself. He was considered a very smart young man, and no one doubted his ability to take care of us. But he was dissatisfied with Torrentville; there was not room enough for a young man of his ability to expand himself. He had no taste for farming, and for two years had been a clerk in Captain Fishley's store. He wanted to go to New Orleans, where he believed he could make his fortune. About a year after the death of his father, he decided28 to try his luck in the metropolis29 of the south-west.
Clarence was a good brother, and I am sure he would not have gone, if he had not felt satisfied that Flora and myself were well provided for. I was then a boy of thirteen, handy at almost anything about the farm, the house, and the garden, and Captain Fishley wanted me to come and live with him. Clarence agreed to pay Flora's board, so that she was a boarder at the house of the Fishleys.[30] It was stipulated30 that I should go to school, and do certain "chores" for my board, while Clarence paid for my clothes. My principal work, and all that the captain said I should be required to do, was to take care of the horse, and go after the mail every evening.
Instead of this, I was compelled to be at the beck and call of all upon the place, including Ham, the captain's only son, and miserably31 spoiled at that. Before I had been a year in my new home, I was dissatisfied, for the cloven heels of the three members of the family had appeared. I was crowded with work, picked upon, insulted, and trodden under foot. Perhaps I could have endured my fate, if poor Flora, upon whom our tyrants had no claims, had fared well.
We heard from Clarence occasionally, and learned in general terms, from his letters, that he was doing very well. I did not like to bother him with complaints, and I did not do so till existence had become almost a burden. I think Clarence wrote back to the captain, and for a time there was some improvement in our condition; but it soon became worse [31]than before. I repeated my complaint. My brother wished us to get along as well as we could till he could spare the time to visit us; but that time had not yet arrived.
A few days before my story opens, early in April, I had a letter from him, saying that he was well established in business for himself, and that he would certainly come to Torrentville in October, as soon as the sickly season was over, and take us to New Orleans. He added that he should be married before that time, and would bring his wife with him. This was joyful32 news, but it was a dreary33 while to wait.
The door suddenly opened, and Mrs. Fishley bounced into the kitchen, followed by her husband, both of them apparently34 wrought35 up to the highest pitch of anger by my misdeeds.
点击收听单词发音
2 cubs | |
n.幼小的兽,不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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3 deformed | |
adj.畸形的;变形的;丑的,破相了的 | |
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4 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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5 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
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6 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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7 flora | |
n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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8 clinched | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
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9 buck | |
n.雄鹿,雄兔;v.马离地跳跃 | |
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10 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
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11 defensive | |
adj.防御的;防卫的;防守的 | |
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12 virago | |
n.悍妇 | |
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13 snarl | |
v.吼叫,怒骂,纠缠,混乱;n.混乱,缠结,咆哮 | |
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14 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
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15 hissing | |
n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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16 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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17 browbeating | |
v.(以言辞或表情)威逼,恫吓( browbeat的现在分词 ) | |
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18 whined | |
v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 );哀诉,诉怨 | |
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19 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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20 orphan | |
n.孤儿;adj.无父母的 | |
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21 tyrants | |
专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 ); 暴君似的人; (古希腊的)僭主; 严酷的事物 | |
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22 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
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23 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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24 militia | |
n.民兵,民兵组织 | |
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25 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
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26 administrator | |
n.经营管理者,行政官员 | |
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27 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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28 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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29 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
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30 stipulated | |
vt.& vi.规定;约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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31 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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32 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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33 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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34 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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35 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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