He fished at the golden fish in the bowl, before we were up and down in the morning.
[Pg 428]
I’m sure it was lucky for Ellen, poor thing, that she’d got so attentive1 a lover.
As bring her fresh fish when the others deceas’d, which they did a dozen times over!
Then a whole new loaf was short! for I know, of course, when our bread goes faster,—
And I made a stir with the bill in my hand, and the man was sent off by his master;
But, oh dear, I thought I should sink thro’ the earth, with the weight of my own reproaches,
For my own pretty son had made away with the loaf, to make pastry2 to feed the roaches!
I vow3 I’ve suffered a martyrdom—with all sorts of frights and terrors surrounded!
For I never saw him go out of the doors but I thought he’d come home to me drownded.
And, sure enough, I set out one fine Monday to visit my married daughter,
And there he was standing4 at Sadler’s Wells, a-performing with real water.
It’s well he was off on the further side, for I’d have brain’d him else with my patten,
For I thought he was safe at school, the young wretch5! a studying Greek and Latin,
And my ridicule6 basket he had got on his back, to carry his fishes and gentles;
With a belt I knew he’d made from the belt of his father’s regimentals—
Well, I poked7 his rods and lines in the fire, and his father gave him a birching,
But he’d gone too far to be easy cured of his love for chubbing and perching.
One night he never came home to tea, and altho’ it was dark and dripping,
[Pg 429]
His father set off to Wapping, poor man! for the boy had a turn for shipping8;
As for me I set up, and I sobbed9 and I cried for all the world like a babby,
Till at twelve o’clock he rewards my fears with two gudging from Waltham Abbey!
And a pretty sore throat and fever he caught, that brought me a fortnight’s hard nussing,
Till I thought I should go to my grey-hair’d grave, worn out with the fretting10 and fussing;
But at last he was cur’d, and we did have hopes that the fishing was cured as well,
But no such luck! not a week went by before we’d have another such spell.
Tho’ he never had got a penny to spend, for such was our strict intentions,
Yet he was soon set up in tackle agin, for all boys have such quick inventions:
And I lost my Lady’s Own Pocket Book, in spite of all my hunting and poking11,
Till I found it chuck full of tackles and hooks, and besides it had had a good soaking.
Then one Friday morning, I gets a summoning note from a sort of a law attorney,
For the boy had been trespassing12 people’s grounds while his father was gone a journey,
And I had to go and hush13 it all up by myself, in an office at Hatton Garden;
And to pay for the damage he’d done, to boot, and to beg some strange gentleman’s pardon.
And wasn’t he once fished out himself, and a man had to dive to find him,
And I saw him brought home with my motherly eyes and a mob of people behind him?
[Pg 430]
Yes, it took a full hour to rub him to life—whilst I was a-screaming and raving15,
And a couple of guineas it cost us besides, to reward the humane16 man for his saving,
And didn’t Miss Crump leave us out of her will, all along of her taking dudgeon
At her favourite cat being chok’d, poor Puss, with a hook sow’d up in a gudgeon?
And old Brown complain’d that he pluck’d his live fowls17, and not without show of reason,
For the cocks looked naked about necks and tails, and it wasn’t their moulting season;
And sure and surely, when we came to enquire18, there was cause for their screeching19 and cackles,
For the mischief20 confess’d he had picked them a bit, for I think he called them the hackles.
A pretty tussle21 we had about that! but as if it warn’t picking enough,
When the winter comes on, to the muff-box I goes, just to shake out my sable22 muff—
“O mercy!” thinks I, “there’s the moth14 in the house!” for the fur was all gone in patches;
And then at Ellen’s chinchilly I look, and its state of destruction just matches—
But it wasn’t no moth, Mr. Walton, but flies—sham flies to go trolling and trouting,
For his father’s great coat was all safe and sound, and that first set me a-doubting.
A plague, say I, on all rods and lines, and on young or old watery23 danglers!
And after all that you’ll talk of such stuff as no harm in the world about anglers!
And when all is done, all our worry and fuss, why, we’ve never had nothing worth dishing;
[Pg 431]
So you see, Mister Walton, no good comes at last of your famous book about fishing.
As for Robert’s, I burnt it a twelvemonth ago; but it turned up too late to be lucky,
For he’d got it by heart, as I found to the cost of
Your servant,
JANE ELIZABETH STUCKEY.
点击收听单词发音
1 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
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2 pastry | |
n.油酥面团,酥皮糕点 | |
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3 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
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4 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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5 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
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6 ridicule | |
v.讥讽,挖苦;n.嘲弄 | |
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7 poked | |
v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 );戳出;拨弄;与(某人)性交 | |
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8 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
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9 sobbed | |
哭泣,啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 ); 哭诉,呜咽地说 | |
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10 fretting | |
n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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11 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
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12 trespassing | |
[法]非法入侵 | |
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13 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
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14 moth | |
n.蛾,蛀虫 | |
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15 raving | |
adj.说胡话的;疯狂的,怒吼的;非常漂亮的;令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话;疯话adv.胡言乱语地;疯狂地 | |
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16 humane | |
adj.人道的,富有同情心的 | |
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17 fowls | |
鸟( fowl的名词复数 ); 禽肉; 既不是这; 非驴非马 | |
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18 enquire | |
v.打听,询问;调查,查问 | |
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19 screeching | |
v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 );发出粗而刺耳的声音;高叫 | |
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20 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
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21 tussle | |
n.&v.扭打,搏斗,争辩 | |
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22 sable | |
n.黑貂;adj.黑色的 | |
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23 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
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