The double doors of the store were wide open. Had all the other signs of spring been missing, this fact alone would have indicated to the knowing that if the snows had not melted and the birds not come back, it was high time they did. Those doors never stood open until the Patriarch felt it in his bones that the winter was gone and he could with safety leave the side of the stove within and migrate to the long bench without, to bask20 in the sunshine. This morning the old man arose from his accustomed chair with a look of wonderment on his face. He swung one leg to and fro for a moment, then rapped on his knee gently with the heavy knob of his cane21. He tapped his head mysteriously with his forefinger22 and gazed in silence out of the window, taking in the outward signs.
“Boys,” he said at length, “it’s time we was gittin’ out agin. Spring has come.”
With that he hobbled toward the door.
“Good, Gran’pap,” said the Chronic23 Loafer, rolling off the counter and following.
Then the Storekeeper opened both doors.
The old oak bench that had stood neglected through the long winter, exposed to wind and warping24 rain, gave a joyous25 creak as it felt again on its broad, knife-hacked back the weight of the Patriarch and his friends. It kicked up its one[65] short, hickory leg with such vehemence26 as to cause the Storekeeper to throw out his hands, as though the world had dropped from under him and he was grasping at a cloud for support.
“Mighty27 souls!” he cried, when he had recovered his equilibrium28 and composure.
“My, oh, my!” murmured the old man, his face beaming with contentment as he sat basking29 in the sun. “Don’t the old bench feel good agin? Why, me an’ this oak board hes ben buddies30 fer nigh onter sixty years.”
The season seemed to have imposed new life into the Chronic Loafer as it had nature. He suddenly tossed off his coat, with one leap cleared the steps and began dancing up and down in the road.
“It jest makes a felly feel like wrastlin’, Gran’pap,” he shouted, waving his arms defiantly32 at the bench. “Come on.”
The Patriarch stroked his long beard and smiled amusedly at this unexpected exhibition of energy. The Miller33’s nose curled contemptuously skyward, and he fell to beating the flour out of his coat to show his indifference34 to the challenge. The Tinsmith puffed35 more vigorously at his pipe, so that the great clouds of smoke that swept upward from the clay bowl, enveloped36 the Storekeeper and caused him to sneeze violently.
At this indisposition on the part of the four to take up the gauntlet he had thrown down, the Loafer became still more defiant31.
[66]
“Hedgins!” he sneered37. “You uns is all afraid, eh?”
“Nawthin’ to be afraid of,” snapped the Miller. “Simple because spring’s come, ez it’s ben comin’ ever since I can remember, I hain’t a-goin’ to waller ’round in a muddy road.”
The School Teacher laid his left hand upon his heart, and fixing a solemn gaze on the roof of the porch, recited: “In the spring the young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.”
“There ye go agin,” cried the Loafer, “quotin’ that ole Fifth Reader o’ yourn.”
“That,” said the pedagogue38, “is Tennyson.”
“I thot it was familar,” exclaimed the Storekeeper. A smile crept into his usually vacant face, and he slapped the Teacher on the knee. “You mean ole Seth Tennyson that runs the Shingletown creamery. He’s a cute un.”
The reply was a withering39, pitying glance.
“It sounds a heap more like Seth’s brother Bill,” ventured the Miller.
“Don’t git argyin’ on that,” said the Loafer. “There’s nawthin’ particular new or good in it any way. The main pint40 is I bantered42 ye an’ you uns ’s all dead skeert.”
“Come, come,” said the Patriarch, beating his stick on the floor to call the boaster to order. “Ef I was five year younger I’d take your banter41; I’d druv yer head inter2 the mud tell you’d be afraid of showin’ up at the store fer a year, fer[67] fear some un’d shovel43 ye inter the road. That’s what I’d do. I hates blowin’, I do—I hates blowin’. Fur be it from me to blow, particular ez I was somethin’ of a wrastler ’hen I was a young un.”
“I bet I could ’a’ th’owed you in less time ’an it takes me to set down,” the Loafer said, as he seated himself on the steps and got out his pipe.
“Th’owed me, would you? Well, I’d ’a’ liked to hev seen you a-th’owin’ me.” He shook his stick at the braggart44. “Why, don’t you know that ’hen I was young I was the best wrastler in the walley; didn’t you ever hear o’ the great wrastlin’ me and Simon Cruller done up to Swampy45 Holler school-house?”
“Did Noar act as empire?” asked the Loafer.
“What does you mean be talkin’ of Noar an’ sech like ’hen I’m tellin’ of wrastlin’? Tryin’ to change the subject I s’pose, eh?” cried the Patriarch, reddening with anger. “Don’t you know——”
“Tut-tut, Gran’pap,” said the Storekeeper, gently taking the raised cane in his hand and forcing it back into an upright position, one end resting on the floor, while on the other were piled the old man’s two fat hands. “Don’t mind him. Go on with your story.”
The Patriarch’s wrath46 passed as quickly as it had come. He speedily wandered back into his youth, and soon was so deep in the history of[68] Simon Cruller, of Simon Cruller’s family and of Becky Stump47 as to be completely oblivious48 to his tormentor’s presence.
“Me an’ Sime Cruller was buddies,” he began at length. “That was tell we both kind o’ set our minds on gittin’ Becky Stump. You uns never seen her, eh? Well, mebbe you never seen her grave-stun. It stands be the alderberry bushes in the buryin’-groun’, an’ ef you hain’t seen it ye otter49, fer then ye might git an idee what sort o’ a woman she was. Pretty? Why, she was a model, she was—a perfect model. Hair? You uns don’t often see sech hair nowadays ez Becky Stump hed—soft an’ black like. Eyes? Why, they sparkled jest like new buggy paint. An’ mighty souls, but she could plough! She wasn’t none of your modern girls ez is too proud to plough. Many a day I set over on the porch at our placet an’ looked down acrosst the walley an’ seen her a-steppin’ th’oo the fiel’, an’ I thot how I’d like to hev one han’le while she’d hev the other, an’ we’d go trampin’ along life’s furrow together.”
“Now Gran’pap, I ’low you’ve ben readin’——”
“Can’t you keep still a piece?” roared the Miller.
The Loafer returned to his pipe and silence.
“The whole thing come to a pint at a spellin’ bee up to Swampy Holler school,” continued the Patriarch, unmindful of the interruption. “Becky Stump was there an’ looked onusual pretty, fer it[69] was cold outside an’ the win’ hed made her face all red on the drive over from home. Sime was there, too, togged out in store clothes, his hair all plastered down with bear ile, an’ with a fine silk tie aroun’ his collar that ’ud ’a’ ketched the girls real hard hed I not hed a prettier one.
“Ez luck ’ud hev it, me an’ Sime Cruller was on opposite sides. It wasn’t long afore I seen he was tryin’ to show off with his spellin’. It’s strange, but it’s a failin’ with men that ez soon ez they gits their minds set on a particular girl they wants to show off before her. Why most of ’em taller up their boots, put on their Sunday clothes an’ go walkin’ by their girl’s house twicet a day fer no reason at all but jest to be seen lookin’ togged up an’ han’som. Men allus seems to want the weemen to know they is better spellers, or better somethin’ else ’an some other feller. They ain’t no reason fer it. No common-sense woman is goin’ to merry no man simple because he can spell or wrastle better or husk more corn than anybody else. An’ yit men’ll insist on showin’ off in them wery things ’henever they gits a chancet.
“It didn’t take me five minutes to see that Sime Cruller was tryin’ to show off afore Becky Stump; was tryin’ to prove to her that he was a smarter lad than me. An’ it didn’t take me that long to concide I’d hev none of it. I seen him every time he spelled a hard un, look triumphant like at[70] her, settin’ ez she was down be the stove; then he’d grin at me. I seen it all, an’ I spelled ez I never spelled afore, an’ a mighty fine speller I was, too, ’hen I was young. Mebbe I didn’t set all over Sime Cruller. Mebbe I didn’t spile his showin’ off. I don’t jest exactly remember what the word was, but it must ’a’ ben a long un with a heap of syllables50, fer he missed it an’ set down lookin’ ez mad ez a bull ’hen he steps inter a bees’ nes’. Three others missed it, an’ it come to me. Why do you know them letters jest rolled off my tongue ez easy. You otter ’a’ seen the look Becky Stump give me an’ the look Sime give me. Huh!
“When intermission come, Sime he gits off in one corner an’ begins blowin’ to a lot of the boys. I heard him talkin’ loud ’bout me, so I steps over. He sayd it was all a mistake; that he could beat me at anything—spellin’, wrastlin’ or fishin’. He was showin’ off agin, fer he talked loud like Becky Stump could hear. I makes up me mind I wouldn’t stand his blowin’.
“‘See here, Sime Cruller!’ I sais, sais I, ‘you uns is nawthin’ but a blow-horn,’ I sais. ‘You claims you can wrastle. Why, I can th’ow you in less time than it takes to tell it, an’ if you steps outside I’ll prove me words.’
“That kinder took Sime Cruller down, fer wrastlin’ was his speciality an’ he’d th’owed every felly in the walley ’ceptin’ me, an’ him an’ me[71] hed never clinched51, fer I wasn’t considered much at a fight. But me dander was up an’ I wasn’t in fer lettin’ him show off.
“‘You th’ow me!’ he sais. Then he begin to laugh like he’d die at the wery idee.
“With that we went outside, follered by the rest of the boys. They was a quarter-moon overhead, an’ the girls put two candles in the school-house winders, so, with the snow, we could see pretty well.
“At it we went. Boys, you otter ’a’ ben there! You otter ’a’ seen it! That was wrastlin’! ’Hen Sime an’ me clinched I ketched him ’round the waist with my right arm an’ got a hold of the strap52 of his right boot with the forefinger of me left hand. He gits his left arm ’round my neck an’ down my back somehow, an’ with his right hand tears the buttons off me coat an’ grabs me in the armhole of me waistcoat. Over we goes, like two dogs, snarlin’, an’ snappin’, while the boys in a ring around us cheered, an’ the girls crowdin’ the school-house porch trembled an’ screamed with fright. We twisted, we turned, we rolled over an’ over tell we looked like livin’ snowballs. Sime got off the boot I’d a holt on, an’ give me a sudden turn that almost sent me on me back. But I was quick. Mighty souls, but I was quick! I ups with me foot an’ lands me heel right on his chist, an’ he went flyin’ ten feet inter a snow-bank, kerryin’ me coat-sleeve with him. He was lookin’ up at the[72] moon ’hen I run up to him, an’ I’d hed him down, but he turned over, an’ they wasn’t nawthin’ fer me to do but to set on his back. I ’low I must ’a’ set there fer half an hour, restin’ an’ gittin’ me wind. Anyway, I was so long I almost forgot I was wrastlin’, fer he give me a sudden turn, an’ ’fore I knowd it he hed the waist holt an’ hed almost th’owed me.
“But I was quick. Mighty souls, but I was quick! I keeps me feet an’ gits one hand inter his waistcoat pocket an’ hung to him. ’Henever you wrastles, git your man be the boot strap or the pocket, an’ you has the best holt they is. Ef I hedn’t done that I might not ’a’ ben here to-day. But I done it, an’ fer a full hour me an’ Sime Cruller rolled ’round, even matched. Time an’ agin I got sight o’ Becky Stump standin’ on the porch, her hands gripped together, her face pale, her eyes almost poppin’ outen her head, she was watchin’ us so hard, an’ the wery sight of her urged me on to inhuman53 efforts. It seemed to hev the same ’fect on Sime. Me heart beat so hard it made me buttons rattle54. Still I kep’ at it. Sime was so hot it was fer me jest like wrastlin’ with a stove, an’ still we kep’ at it. Then all of a sudden—it was two hours after we hed fust clinched—everything seemed to swim—I couldn’t feel no earth beneath—I only knowd I was still holdin’ onto Sime—then I knowd nawthin’.
“‘Hen I come to, I was layin’ be the school-house[73] stove, an’ Becky Stump was leanin’ over me rubbin’ a snowball acrosst me forehead. The other folks was standin’ back like, fer they seemed to think that after sech an exhibition it was all settled an’ they didn’t want to disturb us.
“‘Becky,’ I whispers, ‘did I win?’
“‘You did,’ she sais. ‘You both fainted at oncet, but you fainted on top.’
“‘An’ now I s’pose you’ll hev me,’ I sais, fer it seemed like they was somethin’ in her eyes that kinder urged me on.
“She was quiet a piece; an’ then she leans down an’ answers, ‘Do you think I wants to merry a fien’?’”
The Patriarch ceased his narration55 and fell to stroking his beard and humming softly.
“Well?” cried the Loafer.
“Well?” retorted the old man.
“Did she ever merry?”
The Patriarch shook his head.
“Go look at the grave-stun,” he said, “an’ on it you’ll see wrote: ‘Here lies Becky Stump. Her peaceful soul’s at rest!’”
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收听单词发音
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1
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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vim
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| n.精力，活力 | |
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8
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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9
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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11
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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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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13
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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14
plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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15
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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16
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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17
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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18
robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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19
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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20
bask
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| vt.取暖，晒太阳，沐浴于 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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22
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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23
chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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24
warping
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| n.翘面，扭曲，变形v.弄弯，变歪( warp的现在分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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25
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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27
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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29
basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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30
buddies
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| n.密友( buddy的名词复数 )；同伴；弟兄；（用于称呼男子，常带怒气）家伙v.（如密友、战友、伙伴、弟兄般）交往( buddy的第三人称单数 )；做朋友；亲近（…）；伴护艾滋病人 | |
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31
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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35
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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36
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
pedagogue
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| n.教师 | |
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39
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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40
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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41
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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42
bantered
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| v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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43
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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44
braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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45
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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46
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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47
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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48
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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49
otter
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| n.水獭 | |
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50
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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51
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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52
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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53
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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54
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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55
narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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