The town-crier has rung his bell at a distant corner, and little Annie stands on her father’s doorsteps trying to hear what the man with the loud voice is talking about. Let me listen too. Oh, he is telling the people that an elephant and a lion and a royal tiger and a horse with horns, and other strange beasts from foreign countries, have come to town and will receive all visitors who choose to wait upon them. Perhaps little Annie would like to go? Yes, and I can see that the pretty child is weary of this wide and pleasant street with the green trees flinging their shade across the quiet sunshine and the pavements and the sidewalks all as clean as if the housemaid had just swept them with her broom. She feels that impulse to go strolling away — that longing2 after the mystery of the great world — which many children feel, and which I felt in my childhood. Little Annie shall take a ramble3 with me. See! I do but hold out my hand, and like some bright bird in the sunny air, with her blue silk frock fluttering upward from her white pantalets, she comes bounding on tiptoe across the street.
Smooth back your brown curls, Annie, and let me tie on your bonnet4, and we will set forth5. What a strange couple to go on their rambles6 together! One walks in black attire7, with a measured step and a heavy brow and his thoughtful eyes bent8 down, while the gay little girl trips lightly along as if she were forced to keep hold of my hand lest her feet should dance away from the earth. Yet there is sympathy between us. If I pride myself on anything, it is because I have a smile that children love; and, on the other hand, there are few grown ladies that could entice9 me from the side of little Annie, for I delight to let my mind go hand in hand with the mind of a sinless child. So come, Annie; but if I moralize as we go, do not listen to me: only look about you and be merry.
Now we turn the corner. Here are hacks10 with two horses and stage-coaches with four thundering to meet each other, and trucks and carts moving at a slower pace, being heavily laden11 with barrels from the wharves12; and here are rattling13 gigs which perhaps will be smashed to pieces before our eyes. Hitherward, also, comes a man trundling a wheelbarrow along the pavement. Is not little Annie afraid of such a tumult14? No; she does not even shrink closer to my side, but passes on with fearless confidence, a happy child amidst a great throng15 of grown people who pay the same reverence16 to her infancy17 that they would to extreme old age. Nobody jostles her: all turn aside to make way for little Annie; and, what is most singular, she appears conscious of her claim to such respect. Now her eyes brighten with pleasure. A street-musician has seated himself on the steps of yonder church and pours forth his strains to the busy town — a melody that has gone astray among the tramp of footsteps, the buzz of voices and the war of passing wheels. Who heeds18 the poor organ-grinder? None but myself and little Annie, whose feet begin to move in unison19 with the lively tune20, as if she were loth that music should be wasted without a dance. But where would Annie find a partner? Some have the gout in their toes or the rheumatism21 in their joints22; some are stiff with age, some feeble with disease; some are so lean that their bones would rattle23, and others of such ponderous24 size that their agility25 would crack the flagstones; but many, many have leaden feet because their hearts are far heavier than lead. It is a sad thought that I have chanced upon. What a company of dancers should we be! For I too am a gentleman of sober footsteps, and therefore, little Annie, let us walk sedately26 on.
It is a question with me whether this giddy child or my sage27 self have most pleasure in looking at the shop-windows. We love the silks of sunny hue28 that glow within the darkened premises29 of the spruce dry-goods men; we are pleasantly dazzled by the burnished30 silver and the chased gold, the rings of wedlock31 and the costly32 love-ornaments, glistening33 at the window of the jeweller; but Annie, more than I, seeks for a glimpse of her passing figure in the dusty looking-glasses at the hardware-stores. All that is bright and gay attracts us both.
Here is a shop to which the recollections of my boyhood as well as present partialities give a peculiar34 magic. How delightful35 to let the fancy revel36 on the dainties of a confectioner — those pies with such white and flaky paste, their contents being a mystery, whether rich mince37 with whole plums intermixed, or piquant38 apple delicately rose-flavored; those cakes, heart-shaped or round, piled in a lofty pyramid; those sweet little circlets sweetly named kisses; those dark majestic39 masses fit to be bridal-loaves at the wedding of an heiress, mountains in size, their summits deeply snow-covered with sugar! Then the mighty40 treasures of sugarplums, white and crimson41 and yellow, in large glass vases, and candy of all varieties, and those little cockles — or whatever they are called — much prized by children for their sweetness, and more for the mottoes which they enclose, by love-sick maids and bachelors! Oh, my mouth waters, little Annie, and so doth yours, but we will not be tempted42 except to an imaginary feast; so let us hasten onward43 devouring44 the vision of a plum-cake.
Here are pleasures, as some people would say, of a more exalted45 kind, in the window of a bookseller. Is Annie a literary lady? Yes; she is deeply read in Peter Parley’s tomes and has an increasing love for fairy-tales, though seldom met with nowadays, and she will subscribe46 next year to the Juvenile47 Miscellany. But, truth to tell, she is apt to turn away from the printed page and keep gazing at the pretty pictures, such as the gay-colored ones which make this shop-window the continual loitering-place of children. What would Annie think if, in the book which I mean to send her on New Year’s day, she should find her sweet little self bound up in silk or morocco with gilt48 edges, there to remain till she become a woman grown with children of her own to read about their mother’s childhood? That would be very queer.
Little Annie is weary of pictures and pulls me onward by the hand, till suddenly we pause at the most wondrous49 shop in all the town. Oh, my stars! Is this a toyshop, or is it fairy-land? For here are gilded50 chariots in which the king and queen of the fairies might ride side by side, while their courtiers on these small horses should gallop51 in triumphal procession before and behind the royal pair. Here, too, are dishes of chinaware fit to be the dining-set of those same princely personages when they make a regal banquet in the stateliest hall of their palace — full five feet high — and behold52 their nobles feasting adown the long perspective of the table. Betwixt the king and queen should sit my little Annie, the prettiest fairy of them all. Here stands a turbaned Turk threatening us with his sabre, like an ugly heathen as he is, and next a Chinese mandarin53 who nods his head at Annie and myself. Here we may review a whole army of horse and foot in red-and-blue uniforms, with drums, fifes, trumpets54, and all kinds of noiseless music; they have halted on the shelf of this window after their weary march from Liliput. But what cares Annie for soldiers? No conquering queen is she — neither a Semiramis nor a Catharine; her whole heart is set upon that doll who gazes at us with such a fashionable stare. This is the little girl’s true plaything. Though made of wood, a doll is a visionary and ethereal personage endowed by childish fancy with a peculiar life; the mimic55 lady is a heroine of romance, an actor and a sufferer in a thousand shadowy scenes, the chief inhabitant of that wild world with which children ape the real one. Little Annie does not understand what I am saying, but looks wishfully at the proud lady in the window. We will invite her home with us as we return. — Meantime, good-bye, Dame56 Doll! A toy yourself, you look forth from your window upon many ladies that are also toys, though they walk and speak, and upon a crowd in pursuit of toys, though they wear grave visages. Oh, with your never-closing eyes, had you but an intellect to moralize on all that flits before them, what a wise doll would you be! — Come, little Annie, we shall find toys enough, go where we may.
Now we elbow our way among the throng again. It is curious in the most crowded part of a town to meet with living creatures that had their birthplace in some far solitude57, but have acquired a second nature in the wilderness58 of men. Look up, Annie, at that canary-bird hanging out of the window in his cage. Poor little fellow! His golden feathers are all tarnished59 in this smoky sunshine; he would have glistened60 twice as brightly among the summer islands, but still he has become a citizen in all his tastes and habits, and would not sing half so well without the uproar61 that drowns his music. What a pity that he does not know how miserable62 he is! There is a parrot, too, calling out, “Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll!” as we pass by. Foolish bird, to be talking about her prettiness to strangers, especially as she is not a pretty Poll, though gaudily63 dressed in green and yellow! If she had said “Pretty Annie!” there would have been some sense in it. See that gray squirrel at the door of the fruit-shop whirling round and round so merrily within his wire wheel! Being condemned64 to the treadmill65, he makes it an amusement. Admirable philosophy!
Here comes a big, rough dog — a countryman’s dog — in search of his master, smelling at everybody’s heels and touching67 little Annie’s hand with his cold nose, but hurrying away, though she would fain have patted him. — Success to your search, Fidelity68! — And there sits a great yellow cat upon a window-sill, a very corpulent and comfortable cat, gazing at this transitory world with owl’s eyes, and making pithy69 comments, doubtless, or what appear such, to the silly beast. — Oh, sage puss, make room for me beside you, and we will be a pair of philosophers.
Here we see something to remind us of the town-crier and his ding-dong-bell. Look! look at that great cloth spread out in the air, pictured all over with wild beasts, as if they had met together to choose a king, according to their custom in the days of ?sop66. But they are choosing neither a king nor a President, else we should hear a most horrible snarling70! They have come from the deep woods and the wild mountains and the desert sands and the polar snows only to do homage71 to my little Annie. As we enter among them the great elephant makes us a bow in the best style of elephantine courtesy, bending lowly down his mountain bulk, with trunk abased72 and leg thrust out behind. Annie returns the salute73, much to the gratification of the elephant, who is certainly the best-bred monster in the caravan74. The lion and the lioness are busy with two beef-bones. The royal tiger, the beautiful, the untamable, keeps pacing his narrow cage with a haughty75 step, unmindful of the spectators or recalling the fierce deeds of his former life, when he was wont76 to leap forth upon such inferior animals from the jungles of Bengal.
Here we see the very same wolf — do not go near him, Annie! — the selfsame wolf that devoured77 little Red Riding–Hood and her grandmother. In the next cage a hyena78 from Egypt who has doubtless howled around the pyramids and a black bear from our own forests are fellow-prisoners and most excellent friends. Are there any two living creatures who have so few sympathies that they cannot possibly be friends? Here sits a great white bear whom common observers would call a very stupid beast, though I perceive him to be only absorbed in contemplation; he is thinking of his voyages on an iceberg79, and of his comfortable home in the vicinity of the north pole, and of the little cubs80 whom he left rolling in the eternal snows. In fact, he is a bear of sentiment. But oh those unsentimental monkeys! The ugly, grinning, aping, chattering81, ill-natured, mischievous82 and queer little brutes83! Annie does not love the monkeys; their ugliness shocks her pure, instinctive84 delicacy85 of taste and makes her mind unquiet because it bears a wild and dark resemblance to humanity. But here is a little pony86 just big enough for Annie to ride, and round and round he gallops87 in a circle, keeping time with his trampling88 hoofs89 to a band of music. And here, with a laced coat and a cocked hat, and a riding-whip in his hand — here comes a little gentleman small enough to be king of the fairies and ugly enough to be king of the gnomes90, and takes a flying leap into the saddle. Merrily, merrily plays the music, and merrily gallops the pony, and merrily rides the little old gentleman. — Come, Annie, into the street again; perchance we may see monkeys on horseback there.
Mercy on us! What a noisy world we quiet people live in! Did Annie ever read the cries of London city? With what lusty lungs doth yonder man proclaim that his wheelbarrow is full of lobsters91! Here comes another, mounted on a cart and blowing a hoarse92 and dreadful blast from a tin horn, as much as to say, “Fresh fish!” And hark! a voice on high, like that of a muezzin from the summit of a mosque93, announcing that some chimney-sweeper has emerged from smoke and soot94 and darksome caverns95 into the upper air. What cares the world for that? But, well-a-day, we hear a shrill96 voice of affliction — the scream of a little child, rising louder with every repetition of that smart, sharp, slapping sound produced by an open hand on tender flesh. Annie sympathizes, though without experience of such direful woe97.
Lo! the town-crier again, with some new secret for the public ear. Will he tell us of an auction98, or of a lost pocket-book or a show of beautiful wax figures, or of some monstrous99 beast more horrible than any in the caravan? I guess the latter. See how he uplifts the bell in his right hand and shakes it slowly at first, then with a hurried motion, till the clapper seems to strike both sides at once, and the sounds are scattered100 forth in quick succession far and near.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Now he raises his clear loud voice above all the din1 of the town. It drowns the buzzing talk of many tongues and draws each man’s mind from his own business; it rolls up and down the echoing street, and ascends101 to the hushed chamber102 of the sick, and penetrates103 downward to the cellar kitchen where the hot cook turns from the fire to listen. Who of all that address the public ear, whether in church or court-house or hall of state, has such an attentive104 audience as the town-crier! What saith the people’s orator105?
“Strayed from her home, a LITTLE GIRL of five years old, in a blue silk frock and white pantalets, with brown curling hair and hazel eyes. Whoever will bring her back to her afflicted106 mother — ”
Stop, stop, town-crier! The lost is found. — Oh, my pretty Annie, we forgot to tell your mother of our ramble, and she is in despair and has sent the town-crier to bellow107 up and down the streets, affrighting old and young, for the loss of a little girl who has not once let go my hand? Well, let us hasten homeward; and as we go forget not to thank Heaven, my Annie, that after wandering a little way into the world you may return at the first summons with an untainted and unwearied heart, and be a happy child again. But I have gone too far astray for the town-crier to call me back.
Sweet has been the charm of childhood on my spirit throughout my ramble with little Annie. Say not that it has been a waste of precious moments, an idle matter, a babble108 of childish talk and a reverie of childish imaginations about topics unworthy of a grown man’s notice. Has it been merely this? Not so — not so. They are not truly wise who would affirm it. As the pure breath of children revives the life of aged109 men, so is our moral nature revived by their free and simple thoughts, their native feeling, their airy mirth for little cause or none, their grief soon roused and soon allayed110. Their influence on us is at least reciprocal with ours on them. When our infancy is almost forgotten and our boyhood long departed, though it seems but as yesterday, when life settles darkly down upon us and we doubt whether to call ourselves young any more, — then it is good to steal away from the society of bearded men, and even of gentler woman, and spend an hour or two with children. After drinking from those fountains of still fresh existence we shall return into the crowd, as I do now, to struggle onward and do our part in life — perhaps as fervently111 as ever, but for a time with a kinder and purer heart and a spirit more lightly wise. All this by thy sweet magic, dear little Annie!
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1
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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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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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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heeds
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| n.留心，注意，听从( heed的名词复数 )v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的第三人称单数 ) | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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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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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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joints
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| 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） | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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wedlock
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| n.婚姻，已婚状态 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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44
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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45
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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46
subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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47
juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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48
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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49
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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51
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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52
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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Mandarin
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| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
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54
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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gaudily
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| adv.俗丽地 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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treadmill
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| n.踏车；单调的工作 | |
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sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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pithy
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| adj.(讲话或文章)简练的 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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abased
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| 使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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hyena
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| n.土狼，鬣狗 | |
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iceberg
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| n.冰山，流冰，冷冰冰的人 | |
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cubs
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| n.幼小的兽，不懂规矩的年轻人( cub的名词复数 ) | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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gallops
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| （马等）奔驰，骑马奔驰( gallop的名词复数 ) | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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mosque
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| n.清真寺 | |
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soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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penetrates
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| v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 )；刺入；了解；渗透 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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allayed
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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