Buying Christmas presents.—In the dance.—The merriest of them all.—As a conjurer.—Christmas at “Gad’s Hill.”—Our Christmas dinners.—A New Year’s Eve frolic.—New Year on the Green.—Twelfth Night festivities.
Christmas was always a time which in our home was looked forward to with eagerness and delight, and to my father it was a time dearer than any other part of the year, I think. He loved Christmas for its deep significance as well as for its joys, and this he demonstrates in every allusion2 in his writings to the great festival, a day which he considered should be fragrant3 with the love that we should bear one to another, and with the love and reverence4 of his Saviour5 and Master. Even in his most merry conceits6 of Christmas, there are always subtle and tender touches which will bring tears to the eyes, and make even the thoughtless have some special p. 26veneration for this most blessed anniversary.
In our childish days my father used to take us, every twenty-fourth day of December, to a toy shop in Holborn, where we were allowed to select our Christmas presents, and also any that we wished to give to our little companions. Although I believe we were often an hour or more in the shop before our several tastes were satisfied, he never showed the least impatience7, was always interested, and as desirous as we, that we should choose exactly what we liked best. As we grew older, present giving was confined to our several birthdays, and this annual visit to the Holborn toy shop ceased.
When we were only babies my father determined8 that we should be taught to dance, so as early as the Genoa days we were given our first lessons. “Our oldest boy and his sisters are to be waited upon next week by a professor of the noble art of dancing,” he wrote to a friend at this p. 27time. And again, in writing to my mother, he says: “I hope the dancing lessons will be a success. Don’t fail to let me know.”
Our progress in the graceful9 art delighted him, and his admiration10 of our success was evident when we exhibited to him, as we were perfected in them, all the steps, exercises and dances which formed our lessons. He always encouraged us in our dancing, and praised our grace and aptness, although criticized quite severely11 in some places for allowing his children to expend12 so much time and energy upon the training of their feet.
When “the boys” came home for the holidays there were constant rehearsals13 for the Christmas and New Year’s parties; and more especially for the dance on Twelfth Night, the anniversary of my brother Charlie’s birthday. Just before one of these celebrations my father insisted that my sister Katie and I should teach the polka step to Mr. Leech14 and himself. My p. 28father was as much in earnest about learning to take that wonderful step correctly, as though there were nothing of greater importance in the world. Often he would practice gravely in a corner, without either partner or music, and I remember one cold winter’s night his awakening15 with the fear that he had forgotten the step so strong upon him that, jumping out of bed, by the scant16 illumination of the old-fashioned rushlight, and to his own whistling, he diligently17 rehearsed its “one, two, three, one, two, three” until he was once more secure in his knowledge.
No one can imagine our excitement and nervousness when the evening came on which we were to dance with our pupils. Katie, who was a very little girl was to have Mr. Leech, who was over six feet tall, for her partner, while my father was to be mine. My heart beat so fast that I could scarcely breathe, I was so fearful for the success of our exhibition. p. 29But my fears were groundless, and we were greeted at the finish of our dance with hearty18 applause, which was more than compensation for the work which had been expended19 upon its learning.
My father was certainly not what in the ordinary acceptation of the term would be called “a good dancer.” I doubt whether he had ever received any instruction in “the noble art” other than that which my sister and I gave him. In later years I remember trying to teach him the Schottische, a dance which he particularly admired and desired to learn. But although he was so fond of dancing, except at family gatherings20 in his own or his most intimate friends’ homes, I never remember seeing him join in it himself, and I doubt if, even as a young man, he ever went to balls. Graceful in motion, his dancing, such as it was, was natural to him. Dance music was delightful21 to his cheery, genial22 spirit; the time and steps of a dance suited his tidy p. 30nature, if I may so speak. The action and the exercise seemed to be a part of his abundant vitality23.
While I am writing of my father’s fondness for dancing, a characteristic anecdote24 of him occurs to me. While he was courting my mother, he went one summer evening to call upon her. The Hogarths were living a little way out of London, in a residence which had a drawing-room opening with French windows on to a lawn. In this room my mother and her family were seated quietly after dinner on this particular evening, when suddenly a young sailor jumped through one of the open windows into the apartment, whistled and danced a hornpipe, and before they could recover from their amazement25 jumped out again. A few minutes later my father walked in at the door as sedately26 as though quite innocent of the prank27, and shook hands with everyone; but the sight of their amazed faces proving too much for p. 31his attempted sobriety, his hearty laugh was the signal for the rest of the party to join in his merriment. But judging from his slight ability in later years, I fancy that he must have taken many lessons to secure his perfection in that hornpipe.
His dancing was at its best, I think, in the “Sir Roger de Coverly”—and in what are known as country dances. In the former, while the end couples are dancing, and the side couples are supposed to be still, my father would insist upon the sides keeping up a kind of jig28 step, and clapping his hands to add to the fun, and dancing at the backs of those whose enthusiasm he thought needed rousing, was himself never still for a moment until the dance was over. He was very fond of a country dance which he learned at the house of some dear friends at Rockingham Castle, which began with quite a stately minuet to the tune29 of “God save the Queen,” and then dashed suddenly p. 32into “Down the Middle and up Again.” His enthusiasm in this dance, I remember, was so great that, one evening after some of our Tavistock House theatricals30, when I was thoroughly31 worn out with fatigue32, being selected by him as his partner, I caught the infection of his merriment, and my weariness vanished. As he himself says, in describing dear old “Fezziwig’s” Christmas party, we were “people who would dance and had no notion of walking.” His enjoyment33 of all our frolics was equally keen, and he writes to an American friend, à propos of one of our Christmas merry-makings: “Forster is out again; and if he don’t go in again after the manner in which we have been keeping Christmas, he must be very strong indeed. Such dinings, such conjurings, such blindman’s buffings, such theatre goings, such kissings out of old years and kissings in of new ones never took place in these parts before. To keep the Chuzzlewit going, and to do this little p. 33book the Carol, in the odd times between two parts of it, was, as you may suppose, pretty tight work. But when it was done I broke out like a madman, and if you could have seen me at a children’s party at Macready’s the other night going down a country dance with Mrs. M. you would have thought I was a country gentleman of independent property residing on a tip-top farm, with the wind blowing straight in my face every day.”
At our holiday frolics he used sometimes to conjure1 for us, the equally “noble art” of the prestidigitateur being among his accomplishments35. He writes of this, which he included in the list of our Twelfth Night amusements, to another American friend: “The actuary of the national debt couldn’t calculate the number of children who are coming here on Twelfth Night, in honor of Charlie’s birthday, for which occasion I have provided a magic lantern and divers36 other tremendous engines of that nature. p. 34But the best of it is that Forster and I have purchased between us the entire stock-in-trade of a conjuror37, the practice and display whereof is entrusted38 to me. And if you could see me conjuring34 the company’s watches into impossible tea-caddies and causing pieces of money to fly, and burning pocket handkerchiefs without burning ’em, and practising in my own room without anybody to admire, you would never forget it as long as you live.”
One of these conjuring tricks comprised the disappearance39 and reappearance of a tiny doll, which would announce most unexpected pieces of news and messages to the different children in the audience; this doll was a particular favorite, and its arrival eagerly awaited and welcomed.
That he loved to emphasize Christmas in every possible way, the following extract from a note which he sent me in December, 1868, will evidence. After speaking of a reading which he was to give on Christmas p. 35Eve, he says: “It occurs to me that my table at St. James’ Hall might be appropriately ornamented40 with a little holly41 next Tuesday. If the two front legs were entwined with it, for instance, and a border of it ran round the top of the fringe in front, with a little sprig by way of bouquet42 at each corner, it would present a seasonable appearance. If you think of this and will have the materials ready in a little basket, I will call for you at the office and take you up to the hall where the table will be ready for you.”
But I think that our Christmas and New Year’s tides at “Gad’s Hill” were the happiest of all. Our house was always filled with guests, while a cottage in the village was reserved for the use of the bachelor members of our holiday party. My father himself, always deserted43 work for the week, and that was almost our greatest treat. He was the fun and life of those gatherings, the true Christmas spirit of p. 36sweetness and hospitality filling his large and generous heart. Long walks with him were daily treats to be remembered. Games passed our evenings merrily. “Proverbs,” a game of memory, was very popular, and it was one in which either my aunt or myself was apt to prove winner. Father’s annoyance44 at our failure sometimes was very amusing, but quite genuine. “Dumb Crambo” was another favorite, and one in which my father’s great imitative ability showed finely. I remember one evening his dumb showing of the word “frog” was so extremely laughable that the memory of it convulsed Marcus Stone, the clever artist, when he tried some time later to imitate it.
One very severe Christmas, when the snow was so deep as to make outdoor amusement or entertainment for our guests impossible, my father suggested that he and the inhabitants of the “bachelors’ cottage” should pass the time in unpacking45 p. 37the French chalet, which had been sent to him by Mr. Fetcher, and which reached Higham Station in a large number of packing cases. Unpacking these and fitting the pieces together gave them interesting employment, and some topics of conversation for our luncheon46 party.
Our Christmas Day dinners at “Gad’s Hill” were particularly bright and cheery, some of our nearest neighbours joining our home party. The Christmas plum pudding had its own special dish of coloured “repoussé” china, ornamented with holly. The pudding was placed on this with a sprig of real holly in the centre, lighted, and in this state placed in front of my father, its arrival being always the signal for applause. A prettily47 decorated table was his special pleasure, and from my earliest girlhood the care of this devolved upon me. When I had everything in readiness, he would come with me to inspect the result of my labors48, before dressing49 p. 38for dinner, and no word except of praise ever came to my ears.
He was a wonderfully neat and rapid carver, and I am happy to say taught me some of his skill in this. I used to help him in our home parties at “Gad’s Hill” by carving50 at a side table, returning to my seat opposite him as soon as my duty was ended. On Christmas Day we all had our glasses filled, and then my father, raising his, would say: “Here’s to us all. God bless us!” a toast which was rapidly and willingly drunk. His conversation, as may be imagined, was often extremely humorous, and I have seen the servants, who were waiting at table, convulsed often with laughter at his droll51 remarks and stories. Now, as I recall these gatherings, my sight grows blurred52 with the tears that rise to my eyes. But I love to remember them, and to see, if only in memory, my father at his own table, surrounded by p. 39his own family and friends—a beautiful Christmas spirit.
“It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its Mighty53 Founder54 was a child himself,” was his own advice, and advice which he followed both in letter and spirit.
One morning—it was the last day of the year, I remember—while we were at breakfast at “Gad’s Hill,” my father suggested that we should celebrate the evening by a charade55 to be acted in pantomime. The suggestion was received with acclamation, and amid shouts and laughing we were then and there, guests and members of the family, allotted56 our respective parts. My father went about collecting “stage properties,” rehearsals were “called” at least four times during the morning, and in all our excitement no thought was given to that necessary part of a charade, the audience, whose business it is to guess the pantomime. At luncheon someone asked p. 40suddenly: “But what about an audience?” “Why, bless my soul,” said my father, “I’d forgotten all about that.” Invitations were quickly dispatched to our neighbours, and additional preparations made for supper. In due time the audience came, and the charade was acted so successfully that the evening stands out in my memory as one of the merriest and happiest of the many merry and happy evenings in our dear old home. My father was so extremely funny in his part that the rest of us found it almost impossible to maintain sufficient control over ourselves to enable the charade to proceed as it was planned to do. It wound up with a country dance, which had been invented that morning and practised quite a dozen times through the day, and which was concluded at just a few moments before midnight. Then leading us all, characters and audience, out into the wide hall, and throwing wide open the door, my father, watch in hand, stood p. 41waiting to hear the bells ring in the New Year. All was hush57 and silence after the laughter and merriment! Suddenly the peal58 of bells sounded, and turning he said: “A happy New Year to us all! God bless us.” Kisses, good wishes and shaking of hands brought us again back to the fun and gaiety of a few moments earlier. Supper was served, the hot mulled wine drunk in toasts, and the maddest and wildest of “Sir Roger de Coverlys” ended our evening and began our New Year.
One New year’s day my father organized some field sports in a meadow which was at the back of our house. “Foot races for the villagers come off in my field to-morrow,” he wrote to a friend, “and we have been hard at work all day, building a course, making countless59 flags, and I don’t know what else, Layard (the late Sir Henry Layard) is chief commissioner60 of the domestic police. The country police predict an immense crowd.”
p. 42There were between two and three thousand people present at these sports, and by a kind of magical influence, my father seemed to rule every creature present to do his or her best to maintain order. The likelihood of things going wrong was anticipated, and despite the general prejudice of the neighbours against the undertaking61, my father’s belief and trust in his guests was not disappointed. But you shall have his own account of his success. “We had made a very pretty course,” he wrote, “and taken great pains. Encouraged by the cricket matches’ experience, I allowed the landlord of the Falstaff to have a drinking booth on the ground. Not to seem to dictate62 or distrust, I gave all the prizes in money. The great mass of the crowd were laboring63 men of all kinds, soldiers, sailors and navvies. They did not, between half-past ten, when we began, and sunset, displace a rope or a stake; and they left every barrier and flag as neat as they found it. p. 43There was not a dispute, and there was no drunkenness whatever. I made them a little speech from the lawn at the end of the games, saying that, please God, we would do it again next year. They cheered most lustily and dispersed64. The road between this and Chatham was like a fair all day; and surely it is a fine thing to get such perfect behaviour out of a reckless seaport65 town.” He was the last to realize, I am sure that it was his own sympathetic nature which gave him the love and honor of all classes, and that helped to make the day’s sports such a great success!
My father was again in his element at the Twelfth Night parties to which I have before alluded66. For many consecutive67 years, Miss Coutts, now the Baroness68 Burdett Coutts, was in the habit of sending my brother, on this his birthday anniversary, the most gorgeous of Twelfth-cakes, with an accompanying box of bonbons69 and Twelfth Night characters. The p. 44cake was cut, and the favors and bonbons distributed at the birthday supper, and it was then that my father’s kindly70, genial nature overflowed71 in merriment. He would have something droll to say to everyone, and under his attentions the shyest child would brighten and become merry. No one was overlooked or forgotten by him; like the young Cratchits, he was “ubiquitous.” Supper was followed by songs and recitations from the various members of the company, my father acting72 always as master of ceremonies, and calling upon first one child, then another for his or her contribution to the festivity. I can see now the anxious faces turned toward the beaming, laughing eyes of their host. How attentively73 he would listen, with his head thrown slightly back, and a little to one side, a happy smile on his lips. O, those merry, happy times, never to be forgotten by any of his own children, or by any of their guests. Those merry, happy times!
p. 45And in writing thus of these dear old holidays, when we were all so happy in our home, and when my father was with us, let me add this little postscript74, and greet you on this Christmas of 1896, with my father’s own words: “Reflect upon your present blessings—of which every man has many—not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some. Fill your glass again with a merry face and contented75 heart. Our life on it, but your Christmas shall be merry and your New Year a happy one.
“So may the New Year be a happy one to you, happy to many more whose happiness depends on you! So may each year be happier than the last, and not the meanest of our brethren or sisterhood debarred their rightful share in what our great Creator formed them to enjoy.”
《David Copperfield大卫·科波菲尔》
《匹克威克外传 Pickwick Papers》
《董贝父子 Dombey and Son》
《David Copperfield大卫·科波菲尔》
《匹克威克外传 Pickwick Papers》
《董贝父子 Dombey and Son》
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1
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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conceits
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| 高傲( conceit的名词复数 )； 自以为； 巧妙的词语； 别出心裁的比喻 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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expend
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| vt.花费，消费，消耗 | |
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rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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leech
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| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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prank
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| n.开玩笑，恶作剧；v.装饰；打扮；炫耀自己 | |
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jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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conjuror
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| n.魔术师，变戏法者 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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charade
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| n.用动作等表演文字意义的字谜游戏 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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58
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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59
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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60
commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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61
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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62
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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63
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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64
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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66
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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68
baroness
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| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
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69
bonbons
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| n.小糖果( bonbon的名词复数 ) | |
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70
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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71
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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72
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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73
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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74
postscript
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| n.附言，又及；(正文后的)补充说明 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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