Carnival1 notoriously cheated us at first. Finding us easy in our ways, he regretted having let us off so cheaply; and taking me aside, told me a cock-and-bull story with the moral of another five francs for the narrator. The thing was palpably absurd; but I paid up, and at once dropped all friendliness2 of manner, and kept him in his place as an inferior with freezing British dignity. He saw in a moment that he had gone too far, and killed a willing horse; his face fell; I am sure he would have refunded3 if he could only have thought of a decent pretext4. He wished me to drink with him, but I would none of his drinks. He grew pathetically tender in his professions; but I walked beside him in silence or answered him in stately courtesies; and when we got to the landing-place, passed the word in English slang to the Cigarette.
In spite of the false scent5 we had thrown out the day before, there must have been fifty people about the bridge. We were as pleasant as we could be with all but Carnival. We said good-bye, shaking hands with the old gentleman who knew the river and the young gentleman who had a smattering of English; but never a word for Carnival. Poor Carnival! here was a humiliation6. He who had been so much identified with the canoes, who had given orders in our name, who had shown off the boats and even the boatmen like a private exhibition of his own, to be now so publicly shamed by the lions of his caravan7! I never saw anybody look more crestfallen8 than he. He hung in the background, coming timidly forward ever and again as he thought he saw some symptom of a relenting humour, and falling hurriedly back when he encountered a cold stare. Let us hope it will be a lesson to him.
I would not have mentioned Carnival's peccadillo9 had not the thing been so uncommon10 in France. This, for instance, was the only case of dishonesty or even sharp practice in our whole voyage. We talk very much about our honesty in England. It is a good rule to be on your guard wherever you hear great professions about a very little piece of virtue11. If the English could only hear how they are spoken of abroad, they might confine themselves for a while to remedying the fact; and perhaps even when that was done, give us fewer of their airs.
The young ladies, the graces of Origny, were not present at our start, but when we got round to the second bridge, behold12, it was black with sightseers! We were loudly cheered, and for a good way below, young lads and lasses ran along the bank still cheering. What with current and paddling, we were flashing along like swallows. It was no joke to keep up with us upon the woody shore. But the girls picked up their skirts, as if they were sure they had good ankles, and followed until their breath was out. The last to weary were the three graces and a couple of companions; and just as they too had had enough, the foremost of the three leaped upon a tree-stump and kissed her hand to the canoeists. Not Diana herself, although this was more of a Venus after all, could have done a graceful13 thing more gracefully14. 'Come back again!' she cried; and all the others echoed her; and the hills about Origny repeated the words, 'Come back.' But the river had us round an angle in a twinkling, and we were alone with the green trees and running water.
Come back? There is no coming back, young ladies, on the impetuous stream of life.
'The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes.'
And we must all set our pocket-watches by the clock of fate. There is a headlong, forthright15 tide, that bears away man with his fancies like a straw, and runs fast in time and space. It is full of curves like this, your winding16 river of the Oise; and lingers and returns in pleasant pastorals; and yet, rightly thought upon, never returns at all. For though it should revisit the same acre of meadow in the same hour, it will have made an ample sweep between-whiles; many little streams will have fallen in; many exhalations risen towards the sun; and even although it were the same acre, it will no more be the same river of Oise. And thus, O graces of Origny, although the wandering fortune of my life should carry me back again to where you await death's whistle by the river, that will not be the old I who walks the street; and those wives and mothers, say, will those be you?
There was never any mistake about the Oise, as a matter of fact. In these upper reaches it was still in a prodigious17 hurry for the sea. It ran so fast and merrily, through all the windings18 of its channel, that I strained my thumb, fighting with the rapids, and had to paddle all the rest of the way with one hand turned up. Sometimes it had to serve mills; and being still a little river, ran very dry and shallow in the meanwhile. We had to put our legs out of the boat, and shove ourselves off the sand of the bottom with our feet. And still it went on its way singing among the poplars, and making a green valley in the world. After a good woman, and a good book, and tobacco, there is nothing so agreeable on earth as a river. I forgave it its attempt on my life; which was after all one part owing to the unruly winds of heaven that had blown down the tree, one part to my own mismanagement, and only a third part to the river itself, and that not out of malice19, but from its great preoccupation over its business of getting to the sea. A difficult business, too; for the detours20 it had to make are not to be counted. The geographers21 seem to have given up the attempt; for I found no map represent the infinite contortion22 of its course. A fact will say more than any of them. After we had been some hours, three if I mistake not, flitting by the trees at this smooth, break-neck gallop23, when we came upon a hamlet and asked where we were, we had got no farther than four kilometres (say two miles and a half) from Origny. If it were not for the honour of the thing (in the Scots saying), we might almost as well have been standing24 still.
We lunched on a meadow inside a parallelogram of poplars. The leaves danced and prattled25 in the wind all round about us. The river hurried on meanwhile, and seemed to chide26 at our delay. Little we cared. The river knew where it was going; not so we: the less our hurry, where we found good quarters and a pleasant theatre for a pipe. At that hour, stockbrokers27 were shouting in Paris Bourse for two or three per cent.; but we minded them as little as the sliding stream, and sacrificed a hecatomb of minutes to the gods of tobacco and digestion28. Hurry is the resource of the faithless. Where a man can trust his own heart, and those of his friends, to-morrow is as good as to-day. And if he die in the meanwhile, why then, there he dies, and the question is solved.
We had to take to the canal in the course of the afternoon; because, where it crossed the river, there was, not a bridge, but a siphon. If it had not been for an excited fellow on the bank, we should have paddled right into the siphon, and thenceforward not paddled any more. We met a man, a gentleman, on the tow-path, who was much interested in our cruise. And I was witness to a strange seizure29 of lying suffered by the Cigarette: who, because his knife came from Norway, narrated30 all sorts of adventures in that country, where he has never been. He was quite feverish31 at the end, and pleaded demoniacal possession.
Moy (pronounce Moy) was a pleasant little village, gathered round a chateau32 in a moat. The air was perfumed with hemp33 from neighbouring fields. At the Golden Sheep we found excellent entertainment. German shells from the siege of La Fere, Nurnberg figures, gold-fish in a bowl, and all manner of knick-knacks, embellished34 the public room. The landlady35 was a stout36, plain, short-sighted, motherly body, with something not far short of a genius for cookery. She had a guess of her excellence37 herself. After every dish was sent in, she would come and look on at the dinner for a while, with puckered38, blinking eyes. 'C'est bon, n'est-ce pas?' she would say; and when she had received a proper answer, she disappeared into the kitchen. That common French dish, partridge and cabbages, became a new thing in my eyes at the Golden Sheep; and many subsequent dinners have bitterly disappointed me in consequence. Sweet was our rest in the Golden Sheep at Moy.
1 carnival | |
n.嘉年华会,狂欢,狂欢节,巡回表演 | |
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2 friendliness | |
n.友谊,亲切,亲密 | |
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3 refunded | |
v.归还,退还( refund的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
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5 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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6 humiliation | |
n.羞辱 | |
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7 caravan | |
n.大蓬车;活动房屋 | |
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8 crestfallen | |
adj. 挫败的,失望的,沮丧的 | |
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9 peccadillo | |
n.轻罪,小过失 | |
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10 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
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11 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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12 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
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13 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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14 gracefully | |
ad.大大方方地;优美地 | |
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15 forthright | |
adj.直率的,直截了当的 [同]frank | |
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16 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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17 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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18 windings | |
(道路、河流等)蜿蜒的,弯曲的( winding的名词复数 ); 缠绕( wind的现在分词 ); 卷绕; 转动(把手) | |
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19 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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20 detours | |
绕行的路( detour的名词复数 ); 绕道,兜圈子 | |
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21 geographers | |
地理学家( geographer的名词复数 ) | |
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22 contortion | |
n.扭弯,扭歪,曲解 | |
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23 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
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24 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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25 prattled | |
v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 );发出连续而无意义的声音;闲扯;东拉西扯 | |
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26 chide | |
v.叱责;谴责 | |
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27 stockbrokers | |
n.股票经纪人( stockbroker的名词复数 ) | |
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28 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
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29 seizure | |
n.没收;占有;抵押 | |
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30 narrated | |
v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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32 chateau | |
n.城堡,别墅 | |
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33 hemp | |
n.大麻;纤维 | |
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34 embellished | |
v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 );装饰;修饰;润色 | |
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35 landlady | |
n.女房东,女地主 | |
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37 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
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38 puckered | |
v.(使某物)起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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