What had changed him was the slow daily influence of a large number of trifling4 habitual5 duties none of which fully6 strained his faculties7, and the monotony of them, and the constant watchful8 conventionality of his deportment with customers. He was still a youth, very youthful, but you had to keep an eye open for his youthfulness if you wished to find it beneath the little man that he had been transformed into. He now took his watch out of his pocket with an absent gesture and look exactly like his father’s; and his tones would be a reflection of those of the last important full-sized man with whom he had happened to have been in contact. And though he had not developed into a dandy (finance forbidding), he kept his hair unnaturally9 straight, and amiably10 grumbled11 to Maggie about his collars every fortnight or so. Yes, another Edwin! Yet it must not be assumed that he was growing in discontent, either chronic12 or acute. On the contrary, the malady13 of discontent troubled him less and less.
To the paper boy he was a real man. The paper boy accepted him with unreserved fatalism, as Edwin accepted his father. Thus the boy stood passive while Edwin brought business to a standstill by privately14 perusing15 the “Manchester Examiner.” It was Saturday morning, the morning on which the “Examiner” published its renowned16 Literary Supplement. All the children read eagerly the Literary Supplement; but Edwin, in virtue17 of his office, got it first. On the first and second pages was the serial18 story, by George MacDonald, W. Clark Russell, or Mrs Lynn Linton; then followed readable extracts from new books, and on the fourth page were selected jokes from “Punch.” Edwin somehow always began with the jokes, and in so doing was rather ashamed of his levity19. He would skim the jokes, glance at the titles of the new books, and look at the dialogue parts of the serial, while business and the boy waited. There was no hurry then, even though the year had reached 1873 and people were saying that they would soon be at the middle of the seventies; even though the Licensing20 Act had come into force and publicans were predicting the end of the world. Morning papers were not delivered till ten, eleven, or twelve o’clock in Bursley, and on Saturdays, owing to Edwin’s laudable interest in the best periodical literature, they were apt to be delivered later than usual.
Two.
On this particular morning Edwin was disturbed in his studies by a greater than the paper boy, a greater even than his father. Mr Osmond Orgreave came stamping his cold feet into the shop, the floor of which was still a little damp from the watering that preceded its sweeping21. Mr Orgreave, though as far as Edwin knew he had never been in the shop before, went straight to the coke-stove, bent22 his knees, and began to warm his hands. In this position he opened an interview with Edwin, who dropped the Literary Supplement. Miss Ingamells was momentarily absent.
“Father in?”
“No, sir.”
Edwin did not say where his father was, because he had received general instructions never to ‘volunteer information’ on that point.
“Where is he?”
“He’s out, sir.”
“Oh! Well! Has he left any instructions about those specifications23 for the Shawport Board School?”
“No, sir. I’m afraid he hasn’t. But I can ask in the printing office.”
Mr Orgreave approached the counter, smiling. His face was angular, rather stout24, and harsh, with a grey moustache and a short grey beard, and yet his demeanour and his voice had a jocular, youthful quality. And this was not the only contradiction about him. His clothes were extremely elegant and nice in detail—the whiteness of his linen25 would have struck the most casual observer—but he seemed to be perfectly oblivious26 of his clothes, indeed, to show carelessness concerning them. His finger-nails were marvellously tended. But he scribbled27 in pencil on his cuff28, and apparently29 was not offended by a grey mark on his hand due to touching30 the top of the stove. The idea in Edwin’s head was that Mr Orgreave must put on a new suit of clothes once a week, and new linen every day, and take a bath about once an hour. The man had no ceremoniousness. Thus, though he had never previously31 spoken to Edwin, he made no preliminary pretence32 of not being sure who Edwin was; he chatted with him as though they were old friends and had parted only the day before; he also chatted with him as though they were equals in age, eminence33, and wealth. A strange man!
“Now look here!” he said, as the conversation proceeded, “those specifications are at the Sytch Chapel34. If you could come along with me now—I mean now—I could give them to you and point out one or two things to you, and perhaps Big James could make a start on them this morning. You see it’s urgent.”
So he was familiar with Big James.
“Certainly,” said Edwin, excited.
And when he had curtly35 told the paper boy to do portions of the newspaper job which he had always held the paper boy was absolutely incapable36 of doing, he sent the boy to find Miss Ingamells, informed her where he was going, and followed Mr Orgreave out of the shop.
Three.
“Of course you know Charlie’s at school in France,” said Mr Orgreave, as they passed along Wedgwood Street in the direction of Saint Luke’s Square. He was really very companionable.
“Er—yes!” Edwin replied, nervously37 explosive, and buttoning up his tight overcoat with an important business air.
“At least it isn’t a school—it’s a university. Besançon, you know. They take university students much younger there. Oh! He has a rare time—a rare time. Never writes to you, I suppose?”
“No.” Edwin gave a short laugh.
Mr Orgreave laughed aloud. “And he wouldn’t to us either, if his mother didn’t make a fuss about it. But when he does write, we gather there’s no place like Besançon.”
“It must be splendid,” Edwin said thoughtfully.
“You and he were great chums, weren’t you? I know we used to hear about you every day. His mother used to say that we had Clayhanger with every meal.” Mr Orgreave again laughed heartily38.
Edwin blushed. He was quite startled, and immensely flattered. What on earth could the Sunday have found to tell them every day about him? He, Edwin Clayhanger, a subject of conversation in the household of the Orgreaves, that mysterious household which he had never entered but which he had always pictured to himself as being so finely superior! Less than a year ago Charlie Orgreave had been ‘the Sunday,’ had been ‘old Perish-in-the-attempt,’ and now he was a student in Besançon University, unapproachable, extraordinarily39 romantic; and he, Edwin, remained in his father’s shop! He had been aware that Charlie had gone to Besançon University, but he had not realised it effectively till this moment. The realisation blew discontent into a flame, which fed on the further perception that evidently the Orgreave family were a gay, jolly crowd of cronies together, not in the least like parents and children; their home life must be something fundamentally different from his.
Four.
When they had crossed the windy space of Saint Luke’s Square and reached the top of the Sytch Bank, Mr Orgreave stopped an instant in front of the Sytch Pottery40, and pointed41 to a large window at the south end that was in process of being boarded up.
“At last!” he murmured with disgust. Then he said: “That’s the most beautiful window in Bursley, and perhaps in the Five Towns; and you see what’s happening to it.”
Edwin had never heard the word ‘beautiful’ uttered in quite that tone, except by women, such as Auntie Hamps, about a baby or a valentine or a sermon. But Mr Orgreave was not a woman; he was a man of the world, he was almost the man of the world; and the subject of his adjective was a window!
“Why are they boarding it up, Mr Orgreave?” Edwin asked.
“Oh! Ancient lights! Ancient lights!”
Edwin began to snigger. He thought for an instant that Mr Orgreave was being jocular over his head, for he could only connect the phrase ‘ancient lights’ with the meaner organs of a dead animal, exposed, for example, in tripe42 shops. However, he saw his ineptitude43 almost simultaneously44 with the commission of it, and smothered45 the snigger in becoming gravity. It was clear that he had something to learn in the phraseology employed by architects.
“I should think,” said Mr Orgreave, “I should think they’ve been at law about that window for thirty years, if not more. Well, it’s over now, seemingly.” He gazed at the disappearing window. “What a shame!”
“It is,” said Edwin politely.
Mr Orgreave crossed the road and then stood still to gaze at the façade of the Sytch Pottery. It was a long two-storey building, purest Georgian, of red brick with very elaborate stone facings which contrasted admirably with the austere46 simplicity47 of the walls. The porch was lofty, with a majestic48 flight of steps narrowing to the doors. The ironwork of the basement railings was unusually rich and impressive.
“No,” said Edwin. Now that the question was put to him, he never had seen another pot-works like that.
“There are one or two pretty fine works in the Five Towns,” said Mr Orgreave. “But there’s nothing elsewhere to touch this. I nearly always stop and look at it if I’m passing. Just look at the pointing! The pointing alone—”
Edwin had to readjust his ideas. It had never occurred to him to search for anything fine in Bursley. The fact was, he had never opened his eyes at Bursley. Dozens of times he must have passed the Sytch Pottery, and yet not noticed, not suspected, that it differed from any other pot-works: he who dreamed of being an architect!
“You don’t think much of it?” said Mr Orgreave, moving on. “People don’t.”
“Oh yes! I do!” Edwin protested, and with such an air of eager sincerity50 that Mr Orgreave turned to glance at him. And in truth he did think that the Sytch Pottery was beautiful. He never would have thought so but for the accident of the walk with Mr Orgreave; he might have spent his whole life in the town, and never troubled himself a moment about the Sytch Pottery. Nevertheless he now, by an act of sheer faith, suddenly, miraculously51 and genuinely regarded it as an exquisitely52 beautiful edifice53, on a plane with the edifices54 of the capitals of Europe, and as a feast for discerning eyes. “I like architecture very much,” he added. And this too was said with such feverish55 conviction that Mr Orgreave was quite moved.
“Oh! I should like you to show it me,” said Edwin.
But he was exceedingly perturbed57 by misgivings58. Here was he wanting to be an architect, and he had never observed the Sytch Pottery! Surely that was an absolute proof that he had no vocation59 for architecture! And yet now he did most passionately60 admire the Sytch Pottery. And he was proud to be sharing the admiration61 of the fine, joyous62, superior, luxurious63, companionable man, Mr Orgreave.
Five.
They went down the Sytch Bank to the new chapel of which Mr Orgreave, though a churchman, was the architect, in that vague quarter of the world between Bursley and Turnhill. The roof was not on; the scaffolding was extraordinarily interesting and confusing; they bent their heads to pass under low portals; Edwin had the delicious smell of new mortar64; they stumbled through sand, mud, cinders65 and little pools; they climbed a ladder and stepped over a large block of dressed stone, and Mr Orgreave said—
“This is the gallery we’re in, here. You see the scheme of the place now... That hole—only a flue. Now you see what that arch carries—they didn’t like it in the plans because they thought it might be mistaken for a church—”
Edwin was receptive.
“Of course it’s a very small affair, but it’ll cost less per sitting than any other chapel in your circuit, and I fancy it’ll look less like a box of bricks.” Mr Orgreave subtly smiled, and Edwin tried to equal his subtlety66. “I must show you the elevation67 some other time—a bit later. What I’ve been after in it, is to keep it in character with the street... Hi! Dan, there!” Now, Mr Orgreave was calling across the hollow of the chapel to a fat man in corduroys. “Have you remembered about those blue bricks?”
Perhaps the most captivating phenomenon of all was a little lean-to shed with a real door evidently taken from somewhere else, and a little stove, and a table and a chair. Here Mr Orgreave had a confabulation with the corduroyed man, who was the builder, and they pored over immense sheets of coloured plans that lay on the table, and Mr Orgreave made marks and even sketches68 on the plans, and the fat man objected to his instructions, and Mr Orgreave insisted, “Yes, yes!” And it seemed to Edwin as though the building of the chapel stood still while Mr Orgreave cogitated69 and explained; it seemed to Edwin that he was in the creating-chamber. The atmosphere of the shed was inexpressibly romantic to him. After the fat man had gone Mr Orgreave took a clothes-brush off a plank70 that had been roughly nailed on two brackets to the wall, and brushed Edwin’s clothes, and Edwin brushed Mr Orgreave, and then Mr Orgreave, having run his hand through the brush, lightly brushed his hair with it. All this was part of Edwin’s joy.
“Yes,” he said, “I think the idea of that arch is splendid.”
“You do?” said Mr Orgreave quite simply and ingenuously71 pleased and interested. “You see—with the lie of the ground as it is—”
That was another point that Edwin ought to have thought of by himself—the lie of the ground—but he had not thought of it. Mr Orgreave went on talking. In the shop he had conveyed the idea that he was tremendously pressed for time; now he had apparently forgotten time.
“I’m afraid I shall have to be off,” said Edwin timidly. And he made a preliminary movement as if to depart.
“And what about those specifications, young man?” asked Mr Orgreave, drily twinkling. He unlocked a drawer in the rickety table. Edwin had forgotten the specifications as successfully as Mr Orgreave had forgotten time. Throughout the remainder of the day he smelt72 imaginary mortar.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
minion
|
|
| n.宠仆；宠爱之人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
faculties
|
|
| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
watchful
|
|
| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
unnaturally
|
|
| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
chronic
|
|
| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
malady
|
|
| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
perusing
|
|
| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
renowned
|
|
| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
serial
|
|
| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
levity
|
|
| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
licensing
|
|
| v.批准，许可，颁发执照( license的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
specifications
|
|
| n.规格；载明；详述；（产品等的）说明书；说明书( specification的名词复数 )；详细的计划书；载明；详述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
oblivious
|
|
| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
scribbled
|
|
| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
cuff
|
|
| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
eminence
|
|
| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
pottery
|
|
| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
tripe
|
|
| n.废话，肚子, 内脏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
ineptitude
|
|
| n.不适当；愚笨，愚昧的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
simultaneously
|
|
| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
miraculously
|
|
| ad.奇迹般地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
edifices
|
|
| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
perturbed
|
|
| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
misgivings
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
mortar
|
|
| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
cinders
|
|
| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
subtlety
|
|
| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
elevation
|
|
| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
sketches
|
|
| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
cogitated
|
|
| v.认真思考，深思熟虑( cogitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
70
plank
|
|
| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
ingenuously
|
|
| adv.率直地，正直地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
smelt
|
|
| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |