I like to watch the Belgian hares eating their trifolium or pea-pods or grass; graceful1, gentle things they are, crowding about Mr. Heaven, and standing2 prettily3, not greedily, on their hind4 legs, to reach for the clover, their delicate nostrils5 and whiskers all a-quiver with excitement.
As I look out of my window in the dusk I can see one of the mothers galloping6 across the enclosure, the soft white lining7 of her tail acting8 as a beacon-light to the eight infant hares following her, a quaint9 procession of eight white spots in it glancing line. In the darkest night those baby creatures could follow their mother through grass or hedge or thicket10, and she would need no warning note to show them where to flee in case of danger. “All you have to do is to follow the white night-light that I keep in the lining of my tail,” she says, when she is giving her first maternal11 lectures; and it seems a beneficent provision of Nature. To be sure, Mr. Heaven took his gun and went out to shoot wild rabbits to-day, and I noted12 that he marked them by those same self-betraying tails, as they scuttled13 toward their holes or leaped toward the protecting cover of the hedge; so it does not appear whether Nature is on the side of the farmer or the rabbit . . .
Mr. Heaven . . . went out to shoot wild rabbits
There is as much comedy and as much tragedy in poultry14 life as anywhere, and already I see rifts15 within lutes. We have in a cage a French gentleman partridge married to a Hungarian lady of defective16 sight. He paces back and forth17 in the pen restlessly, anything but content with the domestic fireside. One can see plainly that he is devoted18 to the Boulevards, and that if left to his own inclinations19 he would never have chosen any spouse20 but a thorough Parisienne.
The Hungarian lady is blind of one eye, from some stray shot, I suppose. She is melancholy21 at all times, and occasionally goes so far as to beat her head against the wire netting. If liberated22, Mr. Heaven says that her blindness would only expose her to death at the hands of the first sportsman, and it always seems to me as if she knows this, and is ever trying to decide whether a loveless marriage is any better than the tomb.
Then, again, the great, grey gander is, for some mysterious reason, out of favour with the entire family. He is a noble and amiable23 bird, by far the best all-round character in the flock, for dignity of mien24 and large-minded common-sense. What is the treatment vouchsafed25 to this blameless husband and father? One that puts anybody out of sorts with virtue26 and its scant27 rewards. To begin with, the others will not allow him to go into the pond. There is an organised cabal28 against it, and he sits solitary29 on the bank, calm and resigned, but, naturally, a trifle hurt. His favourite retreat is a tiny sort of island on the edge of the pool under the alders30, where with his bent31 head, and red-rimmed philosophic32 eyes he regards his own breast and dreams of happier days. When the others walk into the country twenty-three of them keep together, and Burd Alane (as I have named him from the old ballad) walks by himself. The lack of harmony is so evident here, and the slight so intentional33 and direct, that it almost moves me to tears. The others walk soberly, always in couples, but even Burd Alane’s rightful spouse is on the side of the majority, and avoids her consort34.
Out of favour with the entire family
What is the nature of his offence? There can be no connubial35 jealousies36, I judge, as geese are strictly37 monogamous, and having chosen a partner of their joys and sorrows they cleave38 to each other until death or some other inexorable circumstance does them part. If they are ever mistaken in their choice, and think they might have done better, the world is none the wiser. Burd Alane looks in good condition, but Phœbe thinks he is not quite himself, and that some day when he is in greater strength he will turn on his foes39 and rend40 them, regaining41 thus his lost prestige, for formerly42 he was king of the flock.
* * * * *
Phœbe has not a vestige43 of sentiment. She just asked me if I would have a duckling or a gosling for dinner; that there were two quite ready—the brown and yellow duckling, that is the last to leave the water at night, and the white gosling that never knows his own ’ouse. Which would I ’ave, and would I ’ave it with sage44 and onion?
Now, had I found a duckling on the table at dinner I should have eaten it without thinking at all, or with the thought that it had come from Barbury Green. But eat a duckling that I have stoned out of the pond, pursued up the bank, chased behind the wire netting, caught, screaming, in a corner, and carried struggling to his bed? Feed upon an idiot gosling that I have found in nine different coops on nine successive nights—in with the newly-hatched chicks, the half-grown pullets, the setting hen, the “invaleed goose,” the drake with the gapes45, the old ducks in the pen?—Eat a gosling that I have caught and put in with his brothers and sisters (whom he never recognises) so frequently and regularly that I am familiar with every joint46 in his body?
In the first place, with my own small bump of locality and lack of geography, I would never willingly consume a creature who might, by some strange process of assimilation, make me worse in this respect; in the second place, I should have to be ravenous47 indeed to sit down deliberately48 and make a meal of an intimate friend, no matter if I had not a high opinion of his intelligence. I should as soon think of eating the Square Baby, stuffed with sage and onion and garnished49 with green apple-sauce, as the yellow duckling or the idiot gosling.
Mrs. Heaven has just called me into her sitting-room50, ostensibly to ask me to order breakfast, but really for the pleasure of conversation. Why she should inquire whether I would relish51 some gammon of bacon with eggs, when she knows that there has not been, is not now, and never will be, anything but gammon of bacon with eggs, is more than I can explain.
“Would you like to see my flowers, miss?” she asks, folding her plump hands over her white apron52. “They are looking beautiful this morning. I am so fond of potted plants, of plants in pots. Look at these geraniums! Now, I consider that pink one a perfect bloom; yes, a perfect bloom. This is a fine red one, is it not, miss? Especially fine, don’t you think? The trouble with the red variety is that they’re apt to get “bobby” and have to be washed regularly; quite bobby they do get indeed, I assure you. That white one has just gone out of blossom, and it was really wonderful. You could ’ardly have told it from a paper flower, miss, not from a white paper flower. My plants are my children nowadays, since Albert Edward is my only care. I have been the mother of eleven children, miss, all of them living, so far as I know; I know nothing to the contrary. I ’ope you are not wearying of this solitary place, miss? It will grow upon you, I am sure, as it did upon Mrs. Pollock, with all her peculiar53 fancies, and as it ’as grown upon us.—We formerly had a butcher’s shop in Buffington, and it was naturally a great responsibility. Mr. Heaven’s nerves are not strong, and at last he wanted a life of more quietude, more quietude was what he craved54. The life of a retail55 butcher is a most exciting and wearying one. Nobody satisfied with their meat; as if it mattered in a world of change! Everybody complaining of too much bone or too little fat; nobody wishing tough chops or cutlets, but always seeking after fine joints56, when it’s against reason and nature that all joints should be juicy and all cutlets tender; always complaining if livers are not sent with every fowl57, always asking you to remember the trimmin’s, always wanting their beef well ’ung, and then if you ’ang it a minute too long, it’s left on your ’ands! I often used to say to Mr. Heaven, yes many’s the time I’ve said it, that if people would think more of the great ’ereafter and less about their own little stomachs, it would be a deal better for them, yes, a deal better, and make it much more comfortable for the butchers!”
The life . . . is a most exciting and wearying one
* * * * *
Burd Alane has had a good quarter of an hour to-day.
His spouse took a brief promenade with him. To be sure, it was during an absence of the flock on the other side of the hedge so that the moral effect of her spasm59 of wifely loyalty60 was quite lost upon them. I strongly suspect that she would not have granted anything but a secret interview. What a petty, weak, ignoble61 character! I really don’t like to think so badly of any fellow-creature as I am forced to think of that politic62, time-serving, pusillanimous63 goose. I believe she laid the egg that produced the idiot gosling!
点击收听单词发音
1 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 prettily | |
adv.优美地;可爱地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 hind | |
adj.后面的,后部的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 nostrils | |
鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 galloping | |
adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 lining | |
n.衬里,衬料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 maternal | |
adj.母亲的,母亲般的,母系的,母方的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 scuttled | |
v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 );快跑,急走 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 poultry | |
n.家禽,禽肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 rifts | |
n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 );裂隙;分裂;不和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 defective | |
adj.有毛病的,有问题的,有瑕疵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 spouse | |
n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 liberated | |
a.无拘束的,放纵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 mien | |
n.风采;态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 vouchsafed | |
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 );允诺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 scant | |
adj.不充分的,不足的;v.减缩,限制,忽略 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 cabal | |
n.政治阴谋小集团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 alders | |
n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 philosophic | |
adj.哲学的,贤明的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 intentional | |
adj.故意的,有意(识)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 consort | |
v.相伴;结交 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 connubial | |
adj.婚姻的,夫妇的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 jealousies | |
n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 );妒羡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 cleave | |
v.(clave;cleaved)粘着,粘住;坚持;依恋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 rend | |
vt.把…撕开,割裂;把…揪下来,强行夺取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 regaining | |
复得( regain的现在分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 vestige | |
n.痕迹,遗迹,残余 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 sage | |
n.圣人,哲人;adj.贤明的,明智的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 gapes | |
v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的第三人称单数 );张开,张大 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 ravenous | |
adj.极饿的,贪婪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 garnished | |
v.给(上餐桌的食物)加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 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: |
|
|
52 apron | |
n.围裙;工作裙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 craved | |
渴望,热望( crave的过去式 ); 恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 retail | |
v./n.零售;adv.以零售价格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 fowl | |
n.家禽,鸡,禽肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 promenade | |
n./v.散步 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 spasm | |
n.痉挛,抽搐;一阵发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 ignoble | |
adj.不光彩的,卑鄙的;可耻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 politic | |
adj.有智虑的;精明的;v.从政 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 pusillanimous | |
adj.懦弱的,胆怯的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |