The truth is that when a man has toiled6 from nine o’clock in the morning until nine o’clock at night, such leisure as he can enjoy is precious to him, especially when even that short respite7 is liable to be broken in upon at any moment.
Still, in spite of the doleful picture I have drawn8 of what may be called “the daily grind,” I begin this tale with the account of a holiday.
In the autumn of 1864 I turned my back with right good-will upon London streets, hospitals, and patients, and took my seat in the North Express. The first revolution of the wheels sent a thrill of delight through my jaded9 frame. A joyful10 sense of freedom came over me. I had really got away at last! Moreover, I had left no address behind me, so for three blessed weeks might roam an undisputed lord of myself. Three weeks were not very many to take out of the fifty-two, but they were all I could venture to give myself; for even at that time my practice, if not so lucrative11 as I could wish, was a large and increasing one. Having done a twelvemonth’s hard work, I felt that no one in the kingdom could take his holiday with a conscience clearer than mine, so I lay back in a peculiarly contented12 frame of mind, and discounted the coming pleasures of my brief respite from labor13.
There are many ways of passing a holiday—many places at which it may be spent; but after all, if you wish to enjoy it thoroughly14 there is but one royal rule to be followed. That is, simply to please yourself—go where you like, and mount the innocent holiday hobby which is dearest to your heart, let its name be botany, geology, entomology, conchology, venery, piscation, or what not. Then you will be happy, and return well braced15 up for the battle of life. I knew a city clerk with literary tastes, who invariably spent his annual fortnight among the mustiest tomes of the British Museum, and averred16 that his health was more benefited by so doing than if he had passed the time inhaling17 the freshest sea-breezes. I dare say he was right in his assertion.
Sketching18 has always been my favorite holiday pursuit. Poor as my drawings may be, nevertheless, as I turn them over in my portfolio19, they bring to me at least vivid remembrances of many sweet and picturesque20 spots, happy days, and congenial companions. It was not for me to say anything of their actual merits, but they are dear to me for their associations.
This particular year I went to North Wales, and made Bettws-y-Coed my headquarters. I stayed at the Royal Oak, that well-known little inn dear to many an artist’s heart, and teeming21 with reminiscences of famous men who have sojourned there times without number. It was here I made the acquaintance of the man with whose life the curious events here told are connected.
On the first day after my arrival at Bettws my appreciation22 of my liberty was so thorough, my appetite for the enjoyment23 of the beauties of nature so keen and insatiable, that I went so far and saw so much, that when I returned to the Royal Oak night had fallen and the hour of dinner had long passed by. I was, when my own meal was placed on the table, the only occupant of the coffee-room. Just then a young man entered, and ordered something to eat. The waiter knowing no doubt something of the frank camaraderie24 which exists, or should exist, between the followers25 of the painter’s craft, laid his cover at my table. The[201] new-comer seated himself, gave me a pleasant smile and a nod, and in five minutes we were in full swing of conversation.
The moment my eyes fell upon the young man I had noticed how singularly handsome he was. Charles Carriston—for this I found afterwards to be his name—was about twenty-two years of age. He was tall, but slightly built; his whole bearing and figure being remarkably26 elegant and graceful27. He looked even more than gentlemanly,—he looked distinguished28. His face was pale, its features well-cut, straight, and regular. His forehead spoke29 of high intellectual qualities, and there was somewhat of that development over the eye-brows which phrenologists, I believe, consider as evidence of the possession of imagination. The general expression of his face was one of sadness, and its refined beauty was heightened by a pair of soft, dark, dreamy-looking eyes.
It only remains30 to add that, from his attire31, I judged him to be an artist—a professional artist—to the backbone32. In the course of conversation I told him how I had classified him. He smiled.
“I am only an amateur,” he said; “an idle man, nothing more—and you?”
“Alas! I am a doctor.”
“Then we shall not have to answer to each other for our sins in painting.”
We talked on pleasantly until our bodily wants were satisfied. Then came that pleasant craving33 for tobacco, which after a good meal, is natural to a well-regulated digestion34.
“Shall we go and smoke outside?” said Carriston. “The night is delicious.”
We went out and sat on one of the wooden benches. As my new friend said, the night was delicious. There was scarcely a breath of air moving. The stars and the moon shone brightly, and the rush of the not far distant stream came to us with a soothing35 murmur36. Near us were three or four jovial37 young artists. They were in merry mood; one of them had that day sold a picture to a tourist. We listened to their banter38 until, most likely growing thirsty, they re-entered the inn.
Carriston had said little since we had been out of doors. He smoked his cigar placidly39 and gazed up at the skies. With the white moonlight falling on his strikingly-beautiful face—the graceful pose into which he fell—he seemed to me the embodiment of poetry. He paid no heed40 to the merry talk or the artists, which so much amused me—indeed, I doubted if he heard their voices.
Yet he must have done so, for as soon as they had left us he came out of his reverie.
“It must be very nice,” he said, “to have to make one’s living by Art.”
“Nice for those who can make livings by it,” I answered.
“All can do that who are worth it. The day of neglected genius is gone by. Muller was the last sufferer, I think—and he died young.”
“I would; but unfortunately I am a rich man.”
I laughed at this misplaced regret. Then Carriston, in the most simple way, told me a good deal about himself. He was an orphan42; an only child. He had already ample means; but fortune had still favors in store for him. At the death of his uncle, now an aged43 man, he must succeed to a large estate and a baronetcy. The natural, unaffected way in which he made these confidences, moreover made them not, I knew, from any wish to increase his importance in my eyes, greatly impressed me. By the time we parted for the night I had grown much interested in my new acquaintance—an interest not untinged by envy. Young, handsome, rich, free to come or go, work or play, as he listed! Happy Carriston!
点击收听单词发音
1 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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2 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
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3 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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4 allay | |
v.消除,减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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5 melodrama | |
n.音乐剧;情节剧 | |
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6 toiled | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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7 respite | |
n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
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8 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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9 jaded | |
adj.精疲力竭的;厌倦的;(因过饱或过多而)腻烦的;迟钝的 | |
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10 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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11 lucrative | |
adj.赚钱的,可获利的 | |
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12 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
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13 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
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14 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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15 braced | |
adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 );撑牢;使自己站稳;振作起来 | |
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16 averred | |
v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 );证实;证明…属实;作为事实提出 | |
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17 inhaling | |
v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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18 sketching | |
n.草图 | |
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19 portfolio | |
n.公事包;文件夹;大臣及部长职位 | |
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20 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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21 teeming | |
adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 );到处都是;(指水、雨等)暴降;倾注 | |
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22 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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23 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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24 camaraderie | |
n.同志之爱,友情 | |
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25 followers | |
追随者( follower的名词复数 ); 用户; 契据的附面; 从动件 | |
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26 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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27 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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28 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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29 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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30 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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31 attire | |
v.穿衣,装扮[同]array;n.衣着;盛装 | |
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32 backbone | |
n.脊骨,脊柱,骨干;刚毅,骨气 | |
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33 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
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34 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
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35 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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36 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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37 jovial | |
adj.快乐的,好交际的 | |
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38 banter | |
n.嘲弄,戏谑;v.取笑,逗弄,开玩笑 | |
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39 placidly | |
adv.平稳地,平静地 | |
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40 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
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41 sanguine | |
adj.充满希望的,乐观的,血红色的 | |
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42 orphan | |
n.孤儿;adj.无父母的 | |
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43 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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