“How’s the old gentleman, father?” said Tom, as we paused a moment from our labour at the windlass.
“Oh! he’s got a good deal more to sleep off yet. There he lies, flat on his back, blowing as hard as a grampus. Better leave him as long as we can. We’ll rouse him as soon as we turn Greenwich reach. Tom, didn’t you think his nose loomed5 devilish large yesterday?”
“Never seed such a devil of a cutwater in my life, father.”
“Well, then, you’ll see a larger when he gets up, for it’s swelled6 bigger than the brandy bottle. Heave and haul! Now bring to the fall, and up with the mast, boys, while I goes aft and takes the helm.”
Old Tom went aft. During the night the wind had veered7 to the north, and the frost had set in sharp, the rime8 covered the deck of the barge9, and here and there floating ice was to be seen coming down with the tide. The banks of the river and fields adjacent were white with hoar frost, and would have presented but a cheerless aspect, had not the sun shone out clear and bright. Tom went aft to light the fire, while I coiled away and made all snug10 forward. Old Tom as usual carolled forth—
“Oh! for a soft and gentle wind,
I heard a fair one cry
But give to me the roaring breeze,
And white waves beating high,
And white waves beating high, my boys,
The good ship tight and free,
The world of waters is our own,
And merry men are we.”
“A nice morning this for cooling a hot head, that’s sartain. Tommy, you rascal11, you’re like a court lady, with her velvet12 gownd, covered all over with diamonds,” continued old Tom, looking at the Newfoundland dog, whose glossy13 black hair was besprinkled with little icicles, which glittered in the sun.
“You and Jacob were the only sensible ones of the party last night, for you both were sober.”
“So was I, father. I was as sober as a judge,” observed Tom, who was blowing up the fire.
“May be, Tom, as a judge a’ter dinner; but a judge on the bench be one thing, and a judge over a bottle be another, and not bad judges in that way either. At all events, if you warn’t sewed up, it wasn’t your fault.”
“And I suppose,” replied Tom, “it was only your misfortune that you were.”
“No, I don’t say that; but still, when I look at the dog, who’s but a beast by nature, and thinks of myself, who wasn’t meant to be a beast, why, I blushes, that’s all.”
“Jacob, look at father—now, does he blush?” cried Tom.
“I can’t say that I perceive it,” replied I, smiling.
“Well, then, if I don’t it’s the fault of my having no legs. I’m sure when they were knocked off I lost half the blood in my body, and that’s the reason, I suppose. At all events, I meant to blush, so we’ll take the will for the deed.”
“But do you mean to keep sober in future, father?” said Tom.
“Never do you mind that—mind your own business, Mr Tom. At all events, I sha’n’t get tipsy till next time, and that’s all I can say with safety, ’cause, d’ye see, I knows my failing. Jacob, did you ever see that old gentleman sail too close to the wind before?”
“I never did—I do not think that he was ever tipsy before last night.”
“Then I pities him—his headache, and his repentance14. Moreover, there be his nose and the swallow-tail of his coat to make him unhappy. We shall be down abreast15 of the Hospital in half-an-hour. Suppose you go and give him a shake, Jacob. Not you, Tom; I won’t trust you—you’ll be doing him a mischief16; you haven’t got no fellow-feeling, not even for dumb brutes18.”
“I’ll thank you not to take away my character that way, father,” replied Tom. “Didn’t I put you to bed last night when you were speechless?”
“Suppose you did—what then?”
“Why, then, I had a feeling for a dumb brute17. I only say that, father, for the joke of it, you know,” continued Tom, going up to his father and patting his rough cheek.
“I know that, my boy; you never were unkind, that’s sartain; but you must have your joke—
“Merry thoughts are link’d with laughter,
Why should we bury them?
Sighs and tears may come hereafter,
No need to hurry them.
They who through a spying-glass,
View the minutes as they pass,
Make the sun a gloomy mass,
But the fault’s their own, Tom.”
In the meantime I was vainly attempting to rouse the Dominie. After many fruitless attempts, I put a large quantity off snuff on his upper lip, and then blew it up his nose. But, merciful powers! what a nose it had become—larger than the largest pear that I ever saw in my life. The whole weight of old Tom had fallen on it, and instead of being crushed by the blow, it appeared as if, on the contrary, it had swelled up, indignant at the injury and affront19 which it had received. The skin was as tight as the parchment of a drum, and shining as if it had been oiled, while the colour was a bright purple. Verily, it was the Dominie’s nose in a rage.
The snuff had the effect of partially20 awakening21 him from his lethargy. “Six o’clock—did you say, Mrs Bately? Are the boys washed—and in the schoolroom? I will rise speedily—yet I am overcome with much heaviness. Delapsus somnus ab—” and the Dominie snored again. I renewed my attempts, and gradually succeeded. The Dominie opened his eyes, stared at the deck and carlines above him, then at the cupboard by his side; lastly, he looked at and recognised me.
“Eheu, Jacobe!—where am I? And what is that which presses upon my brain? What is it so loadeth my cerebellum, even as if it were lead? My memory—where is it? Let me recall my scattered22 senses.” Here the Dominie was silent for some time. “Ah me! yea, and verily, I do recollect—with pain of head and more pain of heart—that which I would fain forget, which is, that I did forget myself; and indeed have forgotten all that passed the latter portion of the night. Friend Dux hath proved no friend, but hath led me into the wrong path: and as or the potation called Grog—Eheu, Jacobe! how have I fallen—fallen in my own opinion—fallen in thine—how can I look thee in the face! O, Jacob! what must thou think of him who hath hitherto been thy preceptor and thy guide!” Here the Dominie fell back on the pillow, and turned away his head.
“It is not your fault, sir,” replied I, to comfort him; “you were not aware of what you were drinking—you did not know that the liquor was so strong. Old Tom deceived you.”
“Nay24, Jacob, I cannot lay that flattering unction to my wounded heart. I ought to have known, nay, now I recall to mind, that thou wouldst have warned me—even to the pulling off of the tail of my coat—yet I heeded25 thee not, and I am humbled26—even I, the master over seventy boys!”
“Nay, sir, it was not I who pulled off the tail of your coat; it was the dog.”
“Jacob, I have heard of the wonderful sagacity of the canine27 species, yet could not I ever have believed that a dumb brute would have perceived my folly28, and warned me from intoxication29. Mirabile dictu! Tell me, Jacob, thou who hast profited by these lessons which thy master could give—although he could not follow up his precept23 by example—tell me, what did take place? Let me know the full extent of my backsliding.”
“You fell asleep, sir, and we put you to bed.”
“Who did me that office, Jacob?”
“Young Tom and I, sir; as for old Tom, he was not in a state to help anybody.”
“I am humbled, Jacob—”
“Nonsense, old gentleman; why make a fuss about nothing?” said old Tom, who, overhearing our conversation came into the cabin. “You had a drop too much, that’s all, and what o’ that? It’s a poor heart that never rejoiceth. Rouse a bit, wash your face with old Thames water, and in half-an-hour you’ll be as fresh as a daisy.”
“My head acheth!” exclaimed the Dominie, “even as if there were a ball of lead rolling from one temple to the other; but my punishment is just.”
“That is the punishment of making too free with the bottle, for sartain; but if it is an offence, then it carries its own punishment and that’s quite sufficient. Every man knows that when the heart’s over light at night, that the head’s over heavy in the morning. I have known and proved it a thousand times. Well, what then? I puts the good against the bad, and I takes my punishment like a man.”
“Friend Dux, for so I will still call thee, thou lookest not at the offence in a moral point of vision.”
“What’s moral?” replied old Tom.
“I would point out that intoxication is sinful.”
“Intoxication sinful! I suppose that means that it’s a sin to get drunk. Now, master, it’s my opinion that as God Almighty30 has given us good liquor, it was for no other purpose than to drink it; and therefore it would be ungrateful to him, and a sin, not to get drunk—that is, with discretion31.”
“How canst thou reconcile getting drunk with discretion, good Dux?”
“I mean, master, when there’s work to be done, the work should be done; but when there’s plenty of time, and everything is safe, and all ready for a start the next morning, I can see no possible objection to a jollification. Come, master, rouse out; the lighter’s abreast of the Hospital almost by this time, and we must put you on shore.”
The Dominie, whose clothes were all on, turned out of his bed-place and went with us on deck. Young Tom, who was at the helm, as soon as we made our appearance, wished him a good-morning very respectfully. Indeed, I always observed that Tom, with all his impudence32 and waggery, had a great deal of consideration and kindness. He had overheard the Dominie’s conversation with me, and would not further wound his feelings with a jest. Old Tom resumed his place at the helm, while his son prepared the breakfast, and I drew a bucket of water for the Dominie to wash his face and hands. Of his nose not a word was said; and the Dominie made no remarks to me on the subject, although I am persuaded it must have been very painful, from the comfort he appeared to derive33 in bathing it with the freezing water. A bowl of tea was a great solace34 to him, and he had hardly finished it when the lighter was abreast the Hospital stairs. Tom jumped into the boat and hauled it alongside. I took the other oar4, and the Dominie, shaking hands with old Tom, said, “Thou didst mean kindly35, and therefore I wish thee a kind farewell, good Dux.”
“God be with you, master,” replied old Tom; “shall we call for you as we come back?”
“Nay, nay,” replied the Dominie, “the travelling by land is more expensive, but less dangerous. I thank thee for thy songs, and—for all thy kindness, good Dux. Are my paraphernalia36 in the boat, Jacob?”
I replied in the affirmative. The Dominie stepped in, and we pulled him on shore. He landed, took his bundle and umbrella under his arm, shook hands with Tom and then with me, without speaking, and I perceived the tears start in his eyes as he turned and walked away.
“Well, now,” said Tom, looking after the Dominie, “I wish I had been drunk instead of he. He does so take it to heart, poor old gentleman!”
“He has lost his self-esteem, Tom,” replied I. “It should be a warning to you. Come, get your oar to pass.”
“Well, some people he fashioned one way and some another. I’ve been tipsy more than once, and I never lost anything but my reason, and that came back as soon as the grog left my head. I can’t understand that fretting37 about having had a glass too much. I only frets38 when I can’t get enough. Well, of all the noses I ever saw, his bests them by chalks; I did so want to laugh at it, but I knew it would pain him.”
“It is very kind of you, Tom, to hold your tongue, and I thank you very much.”
“And yet that old dad of mine swears I’ve got no fellow-feeling, which I consider a very undutiful thing for him to say. What’s the reason, Jacob, that sons be always cleverer than their fathers?”
“I didn’t know that was the case, Tom.”
“But it is so now, if it wasn’t in olden time. The proverb says, ‘Young people think old people to be fools, but old people know young people to be fools.’ We must alter that, for I says, ‘Old people think young people to be fools, but young people know old people to be fools.’”
“Have it your own way, Tom, that will do, rowed of all.”
We tossed in our oars39, made the boat fast, and gained the deck, where old Tom still remained at the helm. “Well,” said he, “Jacob, I never thought I should be glad to see the old gentleman clear of the lighter, but I was—devilish glad; he was like a load on my conscience this morning; he was trusted to my charge by Mr Drummond, and I had no right to persuade him to make a fool of himself. But, however, what’s done can’t be helped, as you say sometimes; and it’s no use crying; still it was a pity, for he be, for all the world, like a child. There’s a fancy kind of lass in that wherry, crossing our bows; look at the streamers from her top-gallant.
“Come o’er the sea,
Mine through sunshine, storm, and snows,
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same wherever it goes
Then come o’er the sea,
Maiden, with me.”
“See you hanged first, you underpinned41 old hulk!” replied the female in the boat, which was then close under our bows.
“Well, that be civil, for certain,” said old Tom, laughing.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bout
|
|
| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
stumping
|
|
| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的现在分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
oar
|
|
| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
loomed
|
|
| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
swelled
|
|
| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
veered
|
|
| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
rime
|
|
| n.白霜；v.使蒙霜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
barge
|
|
| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
snug
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
rascal
|
|
| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
glossy
|
|
| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
repentance
|
|
| n.懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
brutes
|
|
| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
affront
|
|
| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
partially
|
|
| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
precept
|
|
| n.戒律；格言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
heeded
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
humbled
|
|
| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
canine
|
|
| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
intoxication
|
|
| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
almighty
|
|
| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
derive
|
|
| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
solace
|
|
| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
paraphernalia
|
|
| n.装备；随身用品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fretting
|
|
| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
frets
|
|
| 基质间片； 品丝（吉他等指板上定音的）( fret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
oars
|
|
| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
underpinned
|
|
| v.用砖石结构等从下面支撑（墙等）( underpin的过去式和过去分词 )；加固（墙等）的基础；为（论据、主张等）打下基础；加强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |