The little station at Rockford was the scene of the customary bustle1 and stir which appear in most country villages just before the arrival of the "afternoon train." The village idlers were assembled for the little break which came in the dull routine of the day. The shrill2 whistle of the approaching locomotive always brought a slight thrill in the hearts of these stolid3 watchers, as if something in the stir of the great region beyond their horizon was coming, if but for a moment; and when the train departed, so long as the cloud of smoke and dust remained behind it, it served to quicken the dull minds by the suggestions of the possibilities that lay in that unknown world so far away.
Doubtless the village idlers (the busy people of the little town had another term by which they called them) never realized that it was their imaginations to which the arrival of the morning and afternoon trains appealed, and yet it was that very faculty4 which was daily stirred, and for the arousing of which they waited with all the eagerness with which a toper is said to long for his morning dram. There was the excitement of waiting for the locomotive's shriek5 and the first puff6 of smoke that marked the approach of the cars in the distance, and this was followed by the departure, which left them in a state of curiosity and suspense7, not entirely8 unlike that which the old Greek dramas imparted to the breathless audiences that followed them in their vast theatres. Then too there were the few passengers who were soon to leave Rockford, as well as the people who were waiting for the arrival of friends; and as a matter of course the ever-present small boy was very much in evidence, and as he "walked the rails" or leaped across the track, his delight seemed to be increased by the warning word which some one of the assembly occasionally gave him. At frequent intervals9 some farmer would drive up to the pen which joined the freight house, and with ungentle hands roughly push out the calves10 he had brought in his great wagon-box, and compel them to join the bleating11 herd12 soon to be carried away to the great city. Their piteous cries could be constantly heard by the waiting people, but they attracted little attention, although some occasionally expressed their disgust and anger at the brutal13 methods, which are all too common, of supplying the toiling14 people of the great cities with their meat. The thoughts of the coming train however, which now as usual was twenty minutes behind time, did not apparently15 permit any one long to dwell upon the sufferings, present or prospective16, of the brute17 creation. They were all too eager for the "afternoon train" to come.
Among those who were waiting was Ward18 Hill. Apparently he was taking but little interest in what was going on about him. He nodded or quietly responded to the greetings he received from the waiting people, but that was all. Back and forth19 along the gravel20 path which led across the country road to the station, he walked, but he seldom took his eyes from the distant bend in the road where the smoke of the coming locomotive, he was well aware, would first appear. For Ward was expecting a friend to arrive by that same "afternoon train." Early that morning he had received a telegram, a most unusual experience in his life. Even now he could feel the thrill as he tore open the yellow envelope and read the words:
Am coming on afternoon train. Meet me at the station. SPECK21.
Once more he took the message from his pocket and re-read it. He smiled as he placed it again in his coat and a softer expression came over his face. However the other boys in that far-away Weston school might feel toward him, Speck, or John Hobart, as his name had appeared in the catalogue, at least was true to him.
"Dear old Speck," thought Ward, as a vision of the school and his experiences there in the preceding year rose before his mind. And yet it was evident that the recollection was not entirely pleasing. To Ward it had largely been a year of failure. He thought of his own high hopes when he had entered, and then the picture of his gradual but sure descent could not be forgotten. How he had neglected his work and been drawn22 into the company of those who were no credit to the school, to their parents, or to themselves! How he had failed at the very time when he had been most eager to show what he could do! He had won no prize, had failed in the final examinations, and by his one attempt to do right, had incurred23 the anger of "the fellows," and at last had departed from Weston feeling very like an outcast. The bright spots had been the friendship of Jack24 Hobart, and the strong confidence which Mr. Crane, the teacher of Latin, had expressed in his ability to recover himself and in a measure make good the time he had lost. All summer long that final interview with Mr. Crane had been his inspiration, and Ward had worked faithfully in his endeavor to make up the work he had lost.
There had been times when he had felt that he must give it all up. The days when his friend Henry Boyd and some of his companions had come for him to go with them sailing down the bay and out along the shore of the ocean, which he could see every morning from the window of his room in his father's house, had been the most difficult for him, but somehow he had roused himself and kept steadily26 at his task. Then too, there had been days when the sun had been almost like a ball of fire, and the very air he breathed had seemed almost like the hot breath of a furnace, and it had required the exertion27 of all his will power to continue at his studies. And will power had never been Ward Hill's strongest point.
His father had not spoken to him all summer long concerning his work, for he had gently informed Ward, at the close of his disastrous28 year at Weston, that the future lay entirely with him. He was willing to do his utmost for the boy whom he loved, but he never should insist now upon his return. If he made up his work and desired to go on, he would sacrifice and do his utmost for him, but as for sending him when he himself had no desire to go--that was an impossibility.
Ward had felt the justice of his father's words, but his heart had been none the less hungry for the words of encouragement which were not spoken. He little realized how difficult it had been for his father to remain silent, and with what tender solicitude29 he had watched the course of his only boy; but Mr. Hill had been governed largely by the advice of his friend, Dr. Gray, the head of the Weston school, who had keenly realized the crisis which had come in the lad's life. The issues of life have always to be settled by us alone, and all the advice and sympathy of the very best of our friends can never take the place of that decision and exertion which must come, if ever success is to be won, from the individual soul itself.
And Ward had done his best. All summer long he had kept steadily at his task. An occasional letter from Mr. Crane had given him some encouragement at the time when he had needed it most; for there was no man whom he respected more and none, with the single exception of his own father--whom Ward, in spite of his failures, dearly loved--for whom he cherished a stronger feeling of affection. After all, perhaps Ward Hill was learning what we all come to know sooner or later, that there is no such thing as a genuine love which does not have a feeling of deep respect as its basis.
And yet what a summer it had been! It had brought almost no pleasure to him. The other boys had been free to come and go as they chose, but for Ward there was only the steady grind of work--work which was all unnecessary he knew, for if he had only been reasonably faithful to his duties in the school, he too might have had the summer to spend as every vacation ought to be spent. For him there had been no sailing parties, no fishing trips, nothing but the hard and steady work. Even his friend Henry Boyd had soon let him alone when he saw that Ward was not inclined to join with his companions in the sports of the summer days.
Ward had been almost inclined to blame his friend for his neglect, although he well knew he was himself the only one at fault; but then that is a tendency which seems to be in the hearts of us all. It is almost always some one else who is at fault, we fondly believe, for our own shortcomings and failures. Few of us have the moral courage to look squarely at ourselves and to call everything by its proper name. However, Ward had not cherished any ill will, and perhaps smarting under the sense of his failures, had preferred to be let alone.
He glanced up at the pastures that stretched away beyond the station at Rockford. How the grass had withered30 and curled beneath the influence of the hot August sun! A fitting picture, he thought, of his own summer vacation. All his plans had been thwarted31 and every hope blasted by the failure he had made at Weston. The fields all parched32 and sere33 seemed something like his own life. And Ward felt quite like a youthful misanthrope34, only it is likely he had never heard that word used, or never had thought of its meaning.
But July had gone and the most of August had now passed. The time when he must return to Weston, if he returned at all, would soon be at hand. And Ward Hill had not yet fully25 decided35 that question. There were times when he thought he certainly would go back and redeem36 himself, but when he thought of the unpopularity which had overtaken him near the close of the year, and of what he must face if he should return, his heart almost failed him, and it seemed to the troubled boy as if he never could enter Weston again. The only source of comfort he had was the knowledge that the work at last had been completed and he felt reasonably sure of his ability to pass the examination in which he had failed, and now could go on with his class in case he decided to enter the school again.
His thoughts were interrupted by the distant whistle of the engine, and the far-away cloud of smoke and dust proclaimed the approach of the train.
In a moment signs of life began to appear about the little station. The man who for years had carried the mails picked up the mail pouch37 and approached the place where he knew by long experience the mail car would stop. The station-master put on his cap, his sole badge of office, the small boys ceased from their antics, those who were to leave Rockford gathered up their bags and bundles, and all came out from the station and stood waiting for the approaching train.
Ward too was thoroughly38 interested now, and took his stand a little apart from the crowd. On came the rumbling39 cars, gradually slackening their speed, and at last directly in front of him they came to a rest, the locomotive still puffing40 as though to add its part to the little station's excitement.
And there was Jack, standing41 upon the platform and gazing eagerly about him for his friend. In a moment he spied him, and flinging his traveling bag before him upon the ground, he leaped lightly from the platform and made a dash for Ward.
In a moment he had flung his arm about the neck of his friend and was shaking him eagerly by the hand. Ward, who was a somewhat reserved lad and never very demonstrative in his displays of affection, instead of feeling somewhat abashed42 by the exuberance43 of his friend, was greatly touched, and for a moment his eyes were filled with tears. Jack was so different from all the boys he had ever known. No matter what he might say or do, no one could take any exception to him.
"I say, Ward," said Jack eagerly, "this is the best sight my poor old eyes have looked upon all summer. You don't know how I have looked forward to this day and how glad I am to see you."
"And I am just as glad to see you," said Ward, returning the pressure of his friend's hand.
"Glad? Well, I should say! That's a fine word to use in welcoming your long-lost friend and brother after he's taken the dirtiest ride he ever took in his life, and all just to look into your eyes again. Glad? Why don't you say you're teetotally overcome, so to speak. Say you're wild with joy and you 'would that your tongue could utter the thoughts that arise in you.' Isn't that what the doctor used to say was the proper thing in our English class?"
"I believe so," replied Ward, laughing more heartily44 than he had all summer.
"Well, say it then! It seems to me you're trying to put it that you would that your tongue could stammer45 the thoughts that surge up in your massive brain. Why the very calves of Rockford are glad I've come," he added, as there came a louder blast of lamenting46 from the pen. "I say, Ward, what are they there for? Are they calves which you have specially47 fattened48 up for the return of the prodigal49?"
"They're fatter now than they will ever be again, I'm afraid," said Ward smiling.
"It was mighty50 kind of you to have a whole yard full waiting for me. I didn't expect to have but one. But, then, that's always the way with Ward Hill. He's capable of doing a heap more than he ever lets on. But I say, old fellow, you don't know how glad I am to see you. It's driven every freckle51 on my face out of sight."
And the impulsive52 Speck again held his friend out at arm's length and gave him a look in which all his boyish love seemed to find expression.
Ward picked up his friend's traveling bag and together the boys started up the quaint53 winding54 street of the old village, on their way to his home, Jack meanwhile chattering55 on of all his summer experiences, and of what he had heard from the other boys.
"Here we are!" he shouted as they came in sight of Ward's home. "It's just the same, only better than it was. Hold on a minute, Ward," he added as they stopped by the gate. "I've got one thing to say to you, and I want to say it right now. You're going back to Weston, aren't you? Your letters haven't been very satisfactory, and I must know. Tell me. Tell me, quick!"
"I don't know," replied Ward evasively. "We'll talk about that later. Here's mother waiting for you."
The boys turned quickly and walking rapidly up the flower-bordered path were warmly welcomed by Mrs. Hill, and then at once entered the house.
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收听单词发音
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1
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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4
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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5
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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6
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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7
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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8
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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10
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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11
bleating
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| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的现在分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
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12
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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13
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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14
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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15
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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16
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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17
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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21
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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22
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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23
incurred
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| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
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24
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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25
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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26
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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27
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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28
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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29
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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30
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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31
thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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32
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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33
sere
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| adj.干枯的；n.演替系列 | |
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34
misanthrope
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| n.恨人类的人；厌世者 | |
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35
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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36
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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37
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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38
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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39
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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40
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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41
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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42
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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44
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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45
stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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46
lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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47
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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48
fattened
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| v.喂肥( fatten的过去式和过去分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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49
prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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50
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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51
freckle
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| n.雀簧；晒斑 | |
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52
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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53
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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54
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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55
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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