As a child my father was prevented from any active participation3 in the sports and amusements of his boyish companions by his extreme delicacy4 and frequent illnesses, so that until his manhood his knowledge of games was gained merely from long hours of watching others while lying upon the grass. With manhood, however, came the strength and activity which enabled him to take part in all kinds of outdoor exercise and sports, and it seemed that in his passionate5 enjoyment6 and participation in those later years he was recompensed for the weary childhood years of suffering and inability. Athletic sports were a passion with him in his manhood, as I have said. In 1839 he rented a p. 70cottage at Petersham, not far from London “where,” to quote from Mr. Forster, “the extensive garden grounds admitted of much athletic competition, in which Dickens, for the most part, held his own against even such accomplished7 athletes as Maclise and Mr. Beard. Bar leaping, bowling8 and quoits were among the games carried on with the greatest ardor9, and in sustained energy Dickens certainly distanced every competitor. Even the lighter10 recreations of battledore and bagatelle11 were pursued with relentless12 activity. At such amusements as the Petersham races, in those days rather celebrated13, and which he visited daily while they lasted, he worked much harder than the running horses did.”
Riding was a favorite recreation at all times with my father, and he was constantly inviting14 one or another of his friends to bear him company on these excursions. Always fond, in his leisure hours, of companions, he seemed to find his rides and walks quite p. 71incomplete if made alone. He writes on one occasion: “What think you of a fifteen-mile ride out, ditto in, and a lunch on the road, with a wind-up of six o’clock dinner in Doughty15 Street?” And again: “Not knowing whether my head was off or on, it became so addled16 with work, I have gone riding over the old road, and shall be truly delighted to meet or be overtaken by you.” As a young man he was extremely fond of riding, but as I never remember seeing him on horseback I think he must have deprived himself of this pastime soon after his marriage.
But walking was, perhaps, his chiefest pleasure, and the country lanes and city streets alike found him a close observer of their beauties and interests. He was a rapid walker, his usual pace being four miles an hour, and to keep step with him required energy and activity similar to his own. In many of his letters he speaks with most evident enjoyment of this pastime. In one p. 72he writes: “What a brilliant morning for a country walk! I start precisely—precisely, mind—at half-past one. Come, come, come and walk in the green lanes!” Again: “You don’t feel disposed, do you, to muffle17 yourself up and start off with me for a good, brisk walk over Hampstead Heath?”
Outdoor games of the simpler kinds delighted him. Battledore and shuttlecock was played constantly in the garden at Devonshire Terrace, though I do not remember my father ever playing it elsewhere. The American game of bowls pleased him, and rounders found him more than expert. Croquet he disliked, but cricket he enjoyed intensely as a spectator, always keeping one of the scores during the matches at “Gad’s Hill.”
He was a firm believer in the hygiene18 of bathing, and cold baths, sea baths and shower baths were among his most constant practices. In those days scientific ablution was not very generally practised, and I am p. 73sure that in many places during his travels my father was looked upon as an amiable19 maniac20 with a penchant21 for washing.
During his first visit to America, while he was making some journey in a rather rough and uncomfortable canal boat, he wrote: “I am considered very hardy22 in the morning, for I run up barenecked and plunge23 my head into the half-frozen water by half-past five o’clock. I am respected for my activity, inasmuch as I jump from the boat to the towing path, and walk five or six miles before breakfast, keeping up with the horses all the time.” And from Broadstairs: “In a bay window sits, from nine o’clock to one, a gentleman with rather long hair and no neckcloth, who writes and grins as if he thought he were very funny, indeed. At one o’clock he disappears, presently emerges from a bathing machine, and may be seen a kind of salmon-colored porpoise24, splashing about in the ocean. After that, he may be viewed in another bay window on the ground floor, eating p. 74a good lunch; and after that, walking a dozen miles or so, or lying on his back on the sand reading. Nobody bothers him, unless they know he is disposed to be talked to; and I am told he is very comfortable, indeed.”
During the hottest summer months of our year’s residence in Italy, we lived at a little seaport25 of the Mediterranean26 called Albaro. The bathing here was of the most primitive27 kind, one division of the clear, dark-blue pools among the rocks being reserved for women, the other for men, and as we children were as much at home in the water as any known variety of fish, we used to look with wonder at the so-called bathing of the Italian women. They would come in swarms28, beautifully dressed, and with most elaborately arranged heads of hair, but the slightest of wettings with them was the equivalent of a bath. In the open bay at Albaro the current was very strong, and the bathing most dangerous to even an experienced p. 75swimmer. I remember one morning the terrible fright we were given by an uncle of ours; he swam out into the bay, was caught by the current of an ebb29 tide and borne out of reach of our eyes. A fishing boat picked him up still alive, though greatly exhausted30. “It was a world of horror and anguish31 crowded into four or five minutes of dreadful agitation,” wrote my father, “and to complete the terror of it the entire family, including the children, were on the rock in full view of it all, crying like mad creatures.”
He loved animals, flowers and birds, his fondness for the latter being shown nowhere more strongly than in his devotion to his ravens32 at Devonshire Terrace. He writes characteristically of the death of “Grip,” the first raven: “You will be greatly shocked and grieved to hear that the raven is no more. He expired to-day at a few minutes after twelve o’clock, at noon. He had been ailing33 for a few days, but we anticipated no serious result, conjecturing34 that a portion of p. 76the white paint he swallowed last summer might be lingering about his vitals. Yesterday afternoon he was taken so much worse that I sent an express for the medical gentleman, who promptly35 attended and administered a powerful dose of castor oil. Under the influence of this medicine he recovered so far as to be able, at eight o’clock, p.m., to bite Topping (the coachman). His night was peaceful. This morning, at daybreak, he appeared better, and partook plentifully36 of some warm gruel37, the flavor of which he appeared to relish38. Toward eleven o’clock he was so much worse that it was found necessary to muffle the stable knocker. At half-past, or thereabouts, he was heard talking to himself about the horse and Topping’s family, and to add some incoherent expressions which are supposed to have been either a foreboding of his approaching dissolution or some wishes relative to the disposal of his little property, consisting chiefly of half-pence which he had buried in p. 77different parts of the garden. On the clock striking twelve he appeared slightly agitated39, but he soon recovered, walked twice or thrice along the coach house, stopped to bark, staggered, and exclaimed ‘Halloa, old girl!’ (his favorite expression) and died. He behaved throughout with decent fortitude40, equanimity41 and self-possession. I deeply regret that, being in ignorance of his danger, I did not attend to receive his last instructions.
“Something remarkable42 about his eyes occasioned Topping to run for the doctor at twelve. When they returned together, our friend was gone. It was the medical gentleman who informed me of his decease. He did it with caution and delicacy, preparing me by the remark that ‘a jolly queer start had taken place.’ I am not wholly free from suspicions of poison. A malicious43 butcher has been heard to say that he would ‘do’ for him. His plea was that he would not be molested44 in taking orders down the mews by p. 78any bird that wore a tail. Were they ravens who took manna to somebody in the wilderness45? At times I hope they were, and at others I fear they were not, or they would certainly have stolen it by the way. Kate is as well as can be expected. The children seem rather glad of it. He bit their ankles, but that was in play.” As my father was writing “Barnaby Rudge” at this time, and wished to continue his study of raven nature, another and a larger “Grip” took the place of “our friend” but it was he whose talking tricks and comical ways gave my father the idea of making a raven one of the characters in this book. My father’s fondness for “Grip” was, however, never transferred to any other raven, and none of us ever forgave the butcher whom we all held in some way responsible for his untimely taking off.
But I think his strongest love, among animals, was for dogs. I find a delightful46 anecdote47 told by him of a dog belonging to a p. 79lady whom he knew well, “Of,” an immense, black, good-humored, Newfoundland dog. He came from Oxford48 and had lived all his life in a brewery49. Instructions were given with him that if he were let out every morning alone he would immediately find out the river, regularly take a swim and come gravely home again. This he did with the greatest punctuality, but after a little while was observed to smell of beer. His owner was so sure that he smelled of beer that she resolved to watch him. He was seen to come back from his swim round the usual corner and to go up a flight of steps into a beer shop. Being instantly followed, the beer shopkeeper is seen to take down a pot (pewter pot) and is heard to say: “Well, old chap, come for your beer as usual, have you?” Upon which he draws a pint50 and puts it down and the dog drinks it. Being required to explain how this comes to pass the man says: “Yes, ma’am. I know he’s your dog, ma’am, but I didn’t when he first p. 80came. He looked in, ma’am, as a brick-maker might, and then he come in, as a brickmaker might, and he wagged his tail at the pots, and he giv a sniff51 round and conveyed to me as he was used to beer. So I draw’d him a drop, and he drunk it up. Next morning he come agen by the clock and I draw’d him a pint, and ever since he has took his pint reg’lar.”
On account of our birds, cats were not allowed in the house; but from a friend in London I received a present of a white kitten—Williamina—and she and her numerous offspring had a happy home at “Gad’s Hill.” She became a favorite with all the household, and showed particular devotion to my father. I remember on one occasion when she had presented us with a family of kittens, she selected a corner of father’s study for their home. She brought them one by one from the kitchen and deposited them in her chosen corner. My father called to me to remove them, saying p. 81that he could not allow the kittens to remain in his room. I did so, but Williamina brought them back again, one by one. Again they were removed. The third time, instead of putting them in the corner, she placed them all, and herself beside them, at my father’s feet, and gave him such an imploring52 glance that he could resist no longer, and they were allowed to remain. As the kittens grew older they became more and more frolicsome53, swarming54 up the curtains, playing about on the writing table and scampering55 behind the book shelves. But they were never complained of and lived happily in the study until the time came for finding them other homes. One of these kittens was kept, who, as he was quite deaf, was left unnamed, and became known by the servants as “the master’s cat,” because of his devotion to my father. He was always with him, and used to follow him about the garden like a dog, and sit with him while he wrote. One evening we were p. 82all, except father, going to a ball, and when we started, left “the master” and his cat in the drawing-room together. “The master” was reading at a small table, on which a lighted candle was placed. Suddenly the candle went out. My father, who was much interested in his book, relighted the candle stroked the cat, who was looking at him pathetically he noticed, and continued his reading. A few minutes later, as the light became dim, he looked up just in time to see puss deliberately56 put out the candle with his paw, and then look appealingly toward him. This second and unmistakable hint was not disregarded, and puss was given the petting he craved57. Father was full of this anecdote when all met at breakfast the next morning.
Among our dogs were “Turk” and “Linda,” the former a beautiful mastiff and the latter a soft-eyed, gentle, good-tempered St. Bernard. “Mrs. Bouncer,” a Pomeranian, came next, a tiny ball of white fluffy58 fur, who came as a special gift to me, and speedily p. 83won her way by her grace and daintiness into the affections of every member of the household. My father became her special slave, and had a peculiar59 voice for her—as he had for us, when we were children—to which she would respond at once by running to him from any part of the house when she heard his call. He delighted to see her with the large dogs, with whom she gave herself great airs, “because,” as he said, “she looks so preposterously60 small.” A few years later came “Don,” a Newfoundland, and then “Bumble,” his son, named after “Oliver Twist’s” beadle, because of “a peculiarly pompous61 and overbearing manner he had of appearing to mount guard over the yard when he was an absolute infant.” Lastly came “Sultan,” an Irish bloodhound, who had a bitter experience with his life at “Gad’s Hill.” One evening, having broken his chain, he fell upon a little girl who was passing and bit her so severely62 that my father considered it necessary to have him shot, p. 84although this decision cost him a great deal of sorrow.
For a short time I had the care of a mongrel called “Gipsy.” She was not allowed to enter any of the family rooms, and used to spend her time lying contentedly63 on the rug outside the drawing-room. One afternoon a friend came from Chatham bringing with him a wonderful poodle who had been specially64 invited to perform all his tricks for my father’s enjoyment. On his arrival, “Mrs. Bouncer” became furious, and when he began his tricks she went deliberately into the hall and escorted “Gipsy” into the drawing-room, as much as to say: “I can’t stand this. If strange dogs are to be made much of, surely the dogs in the house may be at least permitted to enter the room.” She would not look at “Fosco,” the poodle, but sat throughout his performance with her back toward him, the picture of offended dignity. Just as soon, however, as he was fairly out of the house, p. 85and not until then, she escorted “Gipsy” back to her rug. My father was intensely amused by this behaviour of “Bouncer’s” and delighted in telling this story about her.
“Mrs. Bouncer” was honored by many messages from her master during his absences from home. Here is one written as I was convalescing65 from a serious illness: “In my mind’s eye I behold66 ‘Mrs. Bouncer,’ still with some traces of anxiety on her faithful countenance67, balancing herself a little unequally on her forelegs, pricking68 up her ears with her head on one side, and slightly opening her intellectual nostrils69. I send my loving and respectful duty to her.” Again: “Think of my dreaming of ‘Mrs. Bouncer,’ each night!!!”
My father’s love for dogs led him into a strange friendship during our stay at Boulogne. There lived in a cottage on the street which led from our house to the town, a cobbler who used to sit at his window working all day with his dog—a Pomeranian—p. 86on the table beside him. The cobbler, in whom my father became very much interested because of the intelligence of his Pomeranian companion, was taken ill, and for many months was unable to work. My father writes: “The cobbler has been ill these many months. The little dog sits at the door so unhappy and anxious to help that I every day expect to see him beginning a pair of top boots.” Another time father writes in telling the history of this little animal: “A cobbler at Boulogne, who had the nicest of little dogs that always sat in his sunny window watching him at his work, asked me if I would bring the dog home as he couldn’t afford to pay the tax for him. The cobbler and the dog being both my particular friends I complied. The cobbler parted with the dog heartbroken. When the dog got home here, my man, like an idiot as he is, tied him up and then untied70 him. The moment the gate was open, the dog (on the very day after his arrival) ran out. Next day Georgy and I saw him lying p. 87all covered with mud, dead, outside the neighbouring church. How am I ever to tell the cobbler? He is too poor to come to England, so I feel that I must lie to him for life, and say that the dog is fat and happy.”
《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》
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
athletic
|
|
| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
raven
|
|
| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
participation
|
|
| n.参与，参加，分享 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
bowling
|
|
| n.保龄球运动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
ardor
|
|
| n.热情，狂热 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
bagatelle
|
|
| n.琐事；小曲儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
doughty
|
|
| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
addled
|
|
| adj.（头脑）糊涂的，愚蠢的；（指蛋类）变坏v.使糊涂( addle的过去式和过去分词 )；使混乱；使腐臭；使变质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
muffle
|
|
| v.围裹；抑制；发低沉的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
hygiene
|
|
| n.健康法，卫生学 （a.hygienic） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
maniac
|
|
| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
penchant
|
|
| n.爱好，嗜好；（强烈的）倾向 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
porpoise
|
|
| n.鼠海豚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
seaport
|
|
| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
Mediterranean
|
|
| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
primitive
|
|
| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
ebb
|
|
| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
ravens
|
|
| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
ailing
|
|
| v.生病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
conjecturing
|
|
| v. & n. 推测，臆测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
plentifully
|
|
| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
gruel
|
|
| n.稀饭，粥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
relish
|
|
| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
fortitude
|
|
| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
equanimity
|
|
| n.沉着，镇定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
malicious
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
molested
|
|
| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
anecdote
|
|
| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
brewery
|
|
| n.啤酒厂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
pint
|
|
| n.品脱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
sniff
|
|
| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
imploring
|
|
| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
frolicsome
|
|
| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
scampering
|
|
| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
craved
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
fluffy
|
|
| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
preposterously
|
|
| adv.反常地；荒谬地；荒谬可笑地；不合理地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
pompous
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
contentedly
|
|
| adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
convalescing
|
|
| v.康复( convalesce的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
pricking
|
|
| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
untied
|
|
| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |