Now, they who dine on the lotus rarely consume it plain. There is a sauce au diable that goes with it; and the distillers are the chefs who prepare it. And on Johnny's menu card it read "brandy." With a bottle between them, he and Billy Keogh would sit on the porch of the little consulate3 at night and roar out great, indecorous songs, until the natives, slipping hastily past, would shrug4 a shoulder and mutter things to themselves about the "Americanos diablos."
One day Johnny's mozo brought the mail and dumped it on the table. Johnny leaned from his hammock, and fingered the four or five letters dejectedly. Keogh was sitting on the edge of the table chopping lazily with a paper knife at the legs of a centipede that was crawling among the stationery6. Johnny was in that phase of lotus-eating when all the world tastes bitter in one's mouth.
"Same old thing!" he complained. "Fool people writing for information about the country. They want to know all about raising fruit, and how to make a fortune without work. Half of 'em don't even send stamps for a reply. They think a consul2 hasn't anything to do but write letters. Slit8 those envelopes for me, old man, and see what they want. I'm feeling too rocky to move."
Keogh, acclimated9 beyond all possibility of ill-humour, drew his chair to the table with smiling compliance10 on his rose-pink countenance11, and began to slit open the letters. Four of them were from citizens in various parts of the United States who seemed to regard the consul at Coralio as a cyclopædia of information. They asked long lists of questions, numerically arranged, about the climate, products, possibilities, laws, business chances, and statistics of the country in which the consul had the honour of representing his own government.
"Write 'em, please, Billy," said that inert12 official, "just a line, referring them to the latest consular13 report. Tell 'em the State Department will be delighted to furnish the literary gems14. Sign my name. Don't let your pen scratch, Billy; it'll keep me awake."
"Don't snore," said Keogh, amiably15, "and I'll do your work for you. You need a corps16 of assistants, anyhow. Don't see how you ever get out a report. Wake up a minute!—here's one more letter—it's from your own town, too—Dalesburg."
"That so?" murmured Johnny showing a mild and obligatory18 interest. "What's it about?"
"Postmaster writes," explained Keogh. "Says a citizen of the town wants some facts and advice from you. Says the citizen has an idea in his head of coming down where you are and opening a shoe store. Wants to know if you think the business would pay. Says he's heard of the boom along this coast, and wants to get in on the ground floor."
In spite of the heat and his bad temper, Johnny's hammock swayed with his laughter. Keogh laughed too; and the pet monkey on the top shelf of the bookcase chattered19 in shrill20 sympathy with the ironical21 reception of the letter from Dalesburg.
"Great bunions!" exclaimed the consul. "Shoe store! What'll they ask about next, I wonder? Overcoat factory, I reckon. Say, Billy—of our 3,000 citizens, how many do you suppose ever had on a pair of shoes?"
Keogh reflected judicially22.
"Let's see—there's you and me and—"
"Not me," said Johnny, promptly23 and incorrectly, holding up a foot encased in a disreputable deerskin zapato. "I haven't been a victim to shoes in months."
"But you've got 'em, though," went on Keogh. "And there's Goodwin and Blanchard and Geddie and old Lutz and Doc Gregg and that Italian that's agent for the banana company, and there's old Delgado—no; he wears sandals. And, oh, yes; there's Madama Ortiz, 'what kapes the hotel'—she had on a pair of red slippers25 at the baile the other night. And Miss Pasa, her daughter, that went to school in the States—she brought back some civilized26 notions in the way of footgear. And there's the comandante's sister that dresses up her feet on feast-days—and Mrs. Geddie, who wears a two with a Castilian instep—and that's about all the ladies. Let's see—don't some of the soldiers at the cuartel—no: that's so; they're allowed shoes only when on the march. In barracks they turn their little toeses out to grass."
"'Bout5 right," agreed the consul. "Not over twenty out of the three thousand ever felt leather on their walking arrangements. Oh, yes; Coralio is just the town for an enterprising shoe store—that doesn't want to part with its goods. Wonder if old Patterson is trying to jolly me! He always was full of things he called jokes. Write him a letter, Billy. I'll dictate27 it. We'll jolly him back a few."
Keogh dipped his pen, and wrote at Johnny's dictation. With many pauses, filled in with smoke and sundry28 travellings of the bottle and glasses, the following reply to the Dalesburg communication was perpetrated:
Mr. Obadiah Patterson,
Dalesburg, Ala.
Dear Sir: In reply to your favour of July 2d, I have the honour to inform you that, according to my opinion, there is no place on the habitable globe that presents to the eye stronger evidence of the need of a first-class shoe store than does the town of Coralio. There are 3,000 inhabitants in the place, and not a single shoe store! The situation speaks for itself. This coast is rapidly becoming the goal of enterprising business men, but the shoe business is one that has been sadly overlooked or neglected. In fact, there are a considerable number of our citizens actually without shoes at present.
Besides the want above mentioned, there is also a crying need for a brewery29, a college of higher mathematics, a coal yard, and a clean and intellectual Punch and Judy show. I have the honour to be, sir,
Your Obt. Servant,
John De Graffenreid Atwood,
U. S. Consul at Coralio.
P.S.—Hello! Uncle Obadiah. How's the old burg racking along? What would the government do without you and me? Look out for a green-headed parrot and a bunch of bananas soon, from your old friend
Johnny.
"I throw in that postscript," explained the consul, "so Uncle Obadiah won't take offence at the official tone of the letter! Now, Billy, you get that correspondence fixed30 up, and send Pancho to the post-office with it. The Ariadne takes the mail out to-morrow if they make up that load of fruit to-day."
The night programme in Coralio never varied31. The recreations of the people were soporific and flat. They wandered about, barefoot and aimless, speaking lowly and smoking cigar or cigarette. Looking down on the dimly lighted ways one seemed to see a threading maze32 of brunette ghosts tangled33 with a procession of insane fireflies. In some houses the thrumming of lugubrious34 guitars added to the depression of the triste night. Giant tree-frogs rattled35 in the foliage36 as loudly as the end man's "bones" in a minstrel troupe37. By nine o'clock the streets were almost deserted38.
Nor at the consulate was there often a change of bill. Keogh would come there nightly, for Coralio's one cool place was the little seaward porch of that official residence.
The brandy would be kept moving; and before midnight sentiment would begin to stir in the heart of the self-exiled consul. Then he would relate to Keogh the story of his ended romance. Each night Keogh would listen patiently to the tale, and be ready with untiring sympathy.
"But don't you think for a minute"—thus Johnny would always conclude his woeful narrative—"that I'm grieving about that girl, Billy. I've forgotten her. She never enters my mind. If she were to enter that door right now, my pulse wouldn't gain a beat. That's all over long ago."
"Don't I know it?" Keogh would answer. "Of course you've forgotten her. Proper thing to do. Wasn't quite O. K. of her to listen to the knocks that—er—Dink Pawson kept giving you."
"Pink Dawson!"—a world of contempt would be in Johnny's tones—"Poor white trash! That's what he was. Had five hundred acres of farming land, though; and that counted. Maybe I'll have a chance to get back at him some day. The Dawsons weren't anybody. Everybody in Alabama knows the Atwoods. Say, Billy—did you know my mother was a De Graffenreid?"
"Why, no," Keogh would say; "is that so?" He had heard it some three hundred times.
"Fact. The De Graffenreids of Hancock County. But I never think of that girl any more, do I, Billy?"
At this point Johnny would fall into a gentle slumber40, and Keogh would saunter out to his own shack41 under the calabash tree at the edge of the plaza42.
In a day or two the letter from the Dalesburg postmaster and its answer had been forgotten by the Coralio exiles. But on the 26th day of July the fruit of the reply appeared upon the tree of events.
The Andador, a fruit steamer that visited Coralio regularly, drew into the offing and anchored. The beach was lined with spectators while the quarantine doctor and the custom-house crew rowed out to attend to their duties.
An hour later Billy Keogh lounged into the consulate, clean and cool in his linen43 clothes, and grinning like a pleased shark.
"Guess what?" he said to Johnny, lounging in his hammock.
"Too hot to guess," said Johnny, lazily.
"Your shoe-store man's come," said Keogh, rolling the sweet morsel44 on his tongue, "with a stock of goods big enough to supply the continent as far down as Terra del Fuego. They're carting his cases over to the custom-house now. Six barges45 full they brought ashore46 and have paddled back for the rest. Oh, ye saints in glory! won't there be regalements in the air when he gets onto the joke and has an interview with Mr. Consul? It'll be worth nine years in the tropics just to witness that one joyful47 moment."
Keogh loved to take his mirth easily. He selected a clean place on the matting and lay upon the floor. The walls shook with his enjoyment48. Johnny turned half over and blinked.
"Don't tell me," he said, "that anybody was fool enough to take that letter seriously."
"Four-thousand-dollar stock of goods!" gasped49 Keogh, in ecstasy50. "Talk about coals to Newcastle! Why didn't he take a ship-load of palm-leaf fans to Spitzbergen while he was about it? Saw the old codger on the beach. You ought to have been there when he put on his specs and squinted51 at the five hundred or so barefooted citizens standing52 around."
"Are you telling the truth, Billy?" asked the consul, weakly.
"Am I? You ought to see the buncoed gentleman's daughter he brought along. Looks! She makes the brick-dust señoritas here look like tar-babies."
"Go on," said Johnny, "if you can stop that asinine53 giggling54. I hate to see a grown man make a laughing hyena55 of himself."
"Name is Hemstetter," went on Keogh. "He's a— Hello! what's the matter now?"
"Get up, you idiot," he said, sternly, "or I'll brain you with this inkstand. That's Rosine and her father. Gad24! what a drivelling idiot old Patterson is! Get up, here, Billy Keogh, and help me. What the devil are we going to do? Has all the world gone crazy?"
"Situation has got to be met, Johnny," he said, with some success at seriousness. "I didn't think about its being your girl until you spoke58. First thing to do is to get them comfortable quarters. You go down and face the music, and I'll trot59 out to Goodwin's and see if Mrs. Goodwin won't take them in. They've got the decentest house in town."
"Bless you, Billy!" said the consul. "I knew you wouldn't desert me. The world's bound to come to an end, but maybe we can stave it off for a day or two."
Keogh hoisted60 his umbrella and set out for Goodwin's house. Johnny put on his coat and hat. He picked up the brandy bottle, but set it down again without drinking, and marched bravely down to the beach.
In the shade of the custom-house walls he found Mr. Hemstetter and Rosine surrounded by a mass of gaping61 citizens. The customs officers were ducking and scraping, while the captain of the Andador interpreted the business of the new arrivals. Rosine looked healthy and very much alive. She was gazing at the strange scenes around her with amused interest. There was a faint blush upon her round cheek as she greeted her old admirer. Mr. Hemstetter shook hands with Johnny in a very friendly way. He was an oldish, impractical62 man—one of that numerous class of erratic63 business men who are forever dissatisfied, and seeking a change.
"I am very glad to see you, John—may I call you John?" he said. "Let me thank you for your prompt answer to our postmaster's letter of inquiry64. He volunteered to write to you on my behalf. I was looking about for something different in the way of a business in which the profits would be greater. I had noticed in the papers that this coast was receiving much attention from investors65. I am extremely grateful for your advice to come. I sold out everything that I possess, and invested the proceeds in as fine a stock of shoes as could be bought in the North. You have a picturesque66 town here, John. I hope business will be as good as your letter justifies67 me in expecting."
Johnny's agony was abbreviated68 by the arrival of Keogh, who hurried up with the news that Mrs. Goodwin would be much pleased to place rooms at the disposal of Mr. Hemstetter and his daughter. So there Mr. Hemstetter and Rosine were at once conducted and left to recuperate69 from the fatigue70 of the voyage, while Johnny went down to see that the cases of shoes were safely stored in the customs warehouse71 pending72 their examination by the officials. Keogh, grinning like a shark, skirmished about to find Goodwin, to instruct him not to expose to Mr. Hemstetter the true state of Coralio as a shoe market until Johnny had been given a chance to redeem73 the situation, if such a thing were possible.
That night the consul and Keogh held a desperate consultation74 on the breezy porch of the consulate.
"Send 'em back home," began Keogh, reading Johnny's thoughts.
"I would," said Johnny, after a little silence; "but I've been lying to you, Billy."
"All right about that," said Keogh, affably.
"I've told you hundreds of times," said Johnny, slowly, "that I had forgotten that girl, haven't I?"
"About three hundred and seventy-five," admitted the monument of patience.
"I lied," repeated the consul, "every time. I never forgot her for one minute. I was an obstinate75 ass17 for running away just because she said 'No' once. And I was too proud a fool to go back. I talked with Rosine a few minutes this evening up at Goodwin's. I found out one thing. You remember that farmer fellow who was always after her?"
"Dink Pawson?" asked Keogh.
"Pink Dawson. Well, he wasn't a hill of beans to her. She says she didn't believe a word of the things he told her about me. But I'm sewed up now, Billy. That tomfool letter we sent ruined whatever chance I had left. She'll despise me when she finds out that her old father has been made the victim of a joke that a decent school boy wouldn't have been guilty of. Shoes! Why he couldn't sell twenty pairs of shoes in Coralio if he kept store here for twenty years. You put a pair of shoes on one of these Caribs or Spanish brown boys and what'd he do? Stand on his head and squeal76 until he'd kicked 'em off. None of 'em ever wore shoes and they never will. If I send 'em back home I'll have to tell the whole story, and what'll she think of me? I want that girl worse than ever, Billy, and now when she's in reach I've lost her forever because I tried to be funny when the thermometer was at 102."
"Keep cheerful," said the optimistic Keogh. "And let 'em open the store. I've been busy myself this afternoon. We can stir up a temporary boom in foot-gear anyhow. I'll buy six pairs when the doors open. I've been around and seen all the fellows and explained the catastrophe77. They'll all buy shoes like they was centipedes. Frank Goodwin will take cases of 'em. The Geddies want about eleven pairs between 'em. Clancy is going to invest the savings78 of weeks, and even old Doc Gregg wants three pairs of alligator-hide slippers if they've got any tens. Blanchard got a look at Miss Hemstetter; and as he's a Frenchman, no less than a dozen pairs will do for him."
"A dozen customers," said Johnny, "for a $4,000 stock of shoes! It won't work. There's a big problem here to figure out. You go home, Billy, and leave me alone. I've got to work at it all by myself. Take that bottle of Three-star along with you—no, sir; not another ounce of booze for the United States consul. I'll sit here to-night and pull out the think stop. If there's a soft place on this proposition anywhere I'll land on it. If there isn't there'll be another wreck79 to the credit of the gorgeous tropics."
Keogh left, feeling that he could be of no use. Johnny laid a handful of cigars on a table and stretched himself in a steamer chair. When the sudden daylight broke, silvering the harbour ripples80, he was still sitting there. Then he got up, whistling a little tune7, and took his bath.
At nine o'clock he walked down to the dingy81 little cable office and hung for half an hour over a blank. The result of his application was the following message, which he signed and had transmitted at a cost of $33:
To Pinkney Dawson,
Dalesburg, Ala.
Draft for $100 comes to you next mail. Ship me immediately 500 pounds stiff, dry cockleburrs. New use here in arts. Market price twenty cents pound. Further orders likely. Rush.
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收听单词发音
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1
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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consulate
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| n.领事馆 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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7
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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9
acclimated
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| v.使适应新环境，使服水土服水土，适应( acclimate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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12
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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consular
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| a.领事的 | |
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gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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15
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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16
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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17
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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18
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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19
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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20
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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21
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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judicially
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| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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26
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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29
brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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30
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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33
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lugubrious
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| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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38
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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40
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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43
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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44
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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46
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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47
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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48
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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49
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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50
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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51
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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52
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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53
asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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54
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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55
hyena
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| n.土狼，鬣狗 | |
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56
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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57
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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58
spoke
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| 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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59
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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60
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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impractical
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| adj.不现实的，不实用的，不切实际的 | |
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63
erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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investors
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| n.投资者，出资者( investor的名词复数 ) | |
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66
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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67
justifies
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| 证明…有理( justify的第三人称单数 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
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68
abbreviated
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| adj. 简短的，省略的 动词abbreviate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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69
recuperate
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| v.恢复 | |
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70
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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71
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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72
pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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73
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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74
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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75
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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76
squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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77
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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78
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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79
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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80
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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81
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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