It was a lovely autumn evening the same year, when the school having broken up for the day, Master Swift returned to his home for tea. He lived in a tiny cottage on the opposite side of the water-meadows to that on which Dame1 Datchett dwelt, and farther down towards the water-mill. He had neither wife nor child, but a red dog with a plaintive2 face, and the name of Rufus, kept his house when he was absent, and kept him company when he was at home.
Rufus was a mongrel. He was not a red setter, though his coloring was similar. A politely disposed person would have called him a retriever, and his curly back and general appearance might have carried this off, but for his tail, which, instead of being straight and rat-like, was as plumy as the Prince of Wales’s feathers, and curled unblushingly over his back, sideways, like a pug’s. “It was a good one to wag,” his master said, and, apart from the question of high breeding, it was handsome, and Rufus himself seemed proud of it.
Since half-past three had Rufus sat in the porch, blinking away positive sleep, with his pathetic face towards the road down which Master Swift must come. Unnecessarily pathetic, for there was every reason for his being the most jovial3 of dogs, and not one for that imposing4 melancholy5 which he wore. His large level eyelids6 shaded the pupils even when he was broad awake; an intellectual forehead, and a very long Vandykish nose, with the curly ears, which fell like a well-dressed peruke on each side of his face, gave him an air of disinherited royalty7. But he was in truth a mongrel, living on the fat of the land; who, from the day that this wistful dignity had won the schoolmaster’s heart, had never known a care, wanted a meal, or had any thing whatever demanded of him but to sit comfortably at home and watch with a broken-hearted countenance8 for the schoolmaster’s return from the labors9 which supported them both. The sunshine made Rufus sleepy, but he kept valiantly10 watchful11, propping12 himself against the garden-tools which stood in the corner. Flowers and vegetables for eating were curiously13 mixed in the little garden that lay about Master Swift’s cottage. Not a corner was wasted in it, and a thick hedge of sweet-peas formed a fragrant14 fence from the outer world.
Rufus was nodding, when he heard a footstep. He pulled himself up, but he did not wag his tail, for the step was not the schoolmaster’s. It was Jan’s. Rufus growled15 slightly, and Jan stood outside, and called, “Master Swift!” He and Rufus both paused and listened, but the schoolmaster did not appear. Then Rufus came out and smelt16 Jan exhaustively, and excepting a slight flavor of being acquainted with cats, to whom Rufus objected, he smelt well. Rufus wagged his tail, Jan patted him, and they sat down to wait for the master.
The clock in the old square-towered church had struck a quarter-past four when Master Swift came down the lane, and Rufus rushed out to meet him. Though Rufus told him in so many barks that there was a stranger within, and that, as he smelt respectable, he had allowed him to wait, the schoolmaster was startled by the sight of Jan.
“Why, it’s the little pig-minder!” said he. On which Jan’s face crimsoned17, and tears welled up in his black eyes.
“I bean’t a pig-minder now, Master Swift,” said he.
“And how’s that? Has Master Salter turned ye off?”
“I gi’ed him notice!” said Jan, indignantly. “But I shan’t mind pigs no more, Master Swift.”
“And why not, Master Skymaker?”
“Don’t ’ee laugh, sir,” said Jan. “Master Salter he laughs. ‘What’s pigs for but to be killed?’ says he. But I axed him not to kill the little black un with the white spot on his ear. It be such a nice pig, sir, such a very nice pig!” And the tears flowed copiously18 down Jan’s cheeks, whilst Rufus looked abjectly19 depressed20. “It would follow me anywhere, and come when I called,” Jan continued. “I told Master Salter it be ’most as good as a dog, to keep the rest together. But a says ’tis the fattest, and ’ull be the first to kill. And then I telled him to find another boy to mind his pigs, for I couldn’t look un in the face now, and know ’twas to be killed next month, not that one with the white spot on his ear. It do be such a very nice pig!”
Rufus licked up the tears as they fell over Jan’s smock, and the schoolmaster took Jan in and comforted him. Jan dried his eyes at last, and helped to prepare for tea. The old man made some very good coffee in a shaving-pot, and put cold bacon and bread upon the table, and the three sat down to their meal. Jan and his host upon two rush-bottomed chairs, whilst Rufus scrambled21 into an armchair placed for his accommodation, from whence he gazed alternately at the schoolmaster and the victuals22 with sad, not to say reproachful, eyes.
“I thought that would be your chair,” said Jan.
“I thought that would be your chair...”
“Well, it used to be,” said Master Swift, apologetically. “But the poor beast can’t sit well on these, and I relish23 my meat better with a face on the other side of the table. He found that too slippery at first, till I bought yon bit of a patchwork-cushion for him at a sale.”
Rufus sighed, and Master Swift gave him a piece of bread, which, having smelt, he allowed to lie before him on the table till his master, laughing, rubbed the bread against the bacon, with which additional flavor Rufus seemed content, and ate his supper.
“So you’ve come to the old schoolmaster, after all?” said Master Swift: “that’s right, my lad, that’s right.”
“’Twas Abel sent me,” said Jan; “he said I was to take to my books. So I come because Abel axed me. For I be main fond of Abel.”
“Abel was right,” said the old man. “Take to learning, my lad. Love your books,—friends that nobody can kill, or part ye from.”
“I’d like to learn pieces like them you say,” said Jan.
“So ye shall, so ye shall!” cried Master Swift. “It’s a fine thing, is learning poetry. It strengthens the memory, and cultivates the higher faculties24. Take some more bacon, my lad.”
Which Jan did. At that moment he was not reflecting on his doomed25 friend, the spotted26 pig. Indeed, if we reflected about every thing, this present state of existence would become intolerable.
At much length did the schoolmaster speak on the joys of learning, and, pointing proudly to a few shelves filled by his savings27, he formally made Jan “free of” his books. “When ye’ve learnt to read them,” he added. Jan thanked him for this, and for leave to visit him. But he looked out of the window instead of at the book-shelves.
Beyond Master Swift’s gay flowers stretched the rich green of the water-meads, glowing yellow in the sunlight. The little river hardly seemed to move in its zig-zag path, though the evening breeze was strong enough to show the silver side of the willows28 that drooped29 over it. Jan wondered if he could match all these tints30 in the wood, and whether Master Swift would be willing to have leaf-pictures painted on that table in the window. Then he found that the old man was speaking, though he only heard the latter part of what he said. “—a celebrated31 inventor and mechanic, and that’s what you’ll be, maybe. Ay, ay, a Great Man, please the Lord; and, when I’m laid by in the churchyard yonder, folks’ll come to see the grave of old Swift, the great man’s schoolmaster. Ye’ll be an inventor yet, lad, a benefactor32 to your kind, and an honor to your country. I’m not raising false hopes in ye, without observing your qualities. You’ve the quick eye, the slow patience, and the inventive spark. You can find your own tools and all, and don’t stop where other folk leaves off: witness yon bluebells33 ye took to make skies with! But, bless the lad, he’s not heeding34 me! Is it the bit of garden you’re looking at? Come out then.” And, putting the biography back in the book-shelf, the kindly35 old man led Jan out of doors.
“Say what you said in the wood again,” said Jan.
But Master Swift laughed, and, stretching his hand towards the sweet-peas hedge began at another part of the poem:—
“Here are sweet peas on tiptoe for a flight:
With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white,
Then, bending towards the river, he continued in a theatrical39 whisper:—
“How silent comes the water round that bend!
Not the minutest whisper does it send
To the o’erhanging sallows”—
But here he stopped suddenly, though Jan’s black eyes were at their roundest, and his attention almost breathless.
“There, there! I’m an old fool, and for making you as bad. Poetry’s not your business, you understand: I’m giving ye no encouragement to dabble40 with the fine arts. Science is the ladder for a working-man to climb to fame. In addition to which, the poet Keats, though he certainly speaks the very language of Nature, was a bit of a heathen, I’m afraid, and the fascination41 of him might be injurious in tender youth. Never mind, child, if ye love poetry, I’ll learn ye pieces by the poet Herbert. They’re just true poetry, and manly42, too; and they’re a fountain of experimental religion. And, if this style is too sober for your fancy, Charles Wesley’s hymns43 are touched with the very fire of religious passion.”
“Are your folk religious, Jan?” he added, abruptly44. And whilst Jan stood puzzling the question, he asked with an almost official air of authority, “Do ye any of ye come to church?”
“My father does on club-days,” said Jan.
“And the rest of ye,—do ye attend any place of worship?” Jan shook his head.
“And I’ll dare to say ye didn’t know I was the clerk?” said Master Swift. “There’s paganism for ye in a Christian45 parish! Well, well, you’re coming to me, lad, and, apart from your secular46 studies, you’ll be instructed in the Word of God, and in the Church Catechism on Fridays.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jan. He felt this civility to be due, though of the schoolmaster’s plans for his benefit he had a very confused notion. He then took leave. Rufus went with him to the gate, and returned to his master with a look which plainly said, “We could have done with him very well, if you had kept him.”
When Jan had reached a bit of rising ground, from which the house he had just left was visible, he turned round to look at it again.
Master Swift was standing47 where he had left him, gazing out into the distance with painful intensity48. The fast-sinking sun lit up his heavy face and figure with a transforming glow, and hung a golden mist above the meads, at which he stared like one spellbound. But when Jan turned to pursue his way to the windmill, the schoolmaster turned also, and went back into the cottage.
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1
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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2
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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6
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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7
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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9
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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10
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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propping
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| 支撑 | |
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13
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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14
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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15
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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17
crimsoned
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| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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copiously
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| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
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abjectly
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| 凄惨地； 绝望地； 糟透地； 悲惨地 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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22
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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24
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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27
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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28
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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29
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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31
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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33
bluebells
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| n.圆叶风铃草( bluebell的名词复数 ) | |
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34
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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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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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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39
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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40
dabble
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| v.涉足，浅赏 | |
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41
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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42
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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43
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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44
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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45
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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46
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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47
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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48
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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