He had a shock of black hair and a snub nose, and the tan and freckles1 on his face were an inch thick, but he had a pair of black eyes so soft and bright and appealing that they might have belonged to one of the houris of Paradise. His wide mouth was full of sharp, white teeth, and when he smiled, which was very often, his smile began with his black eyes and ended with his white teeth.
At ten years of age Toni was a complete man of the world—of his world, that is. This consisted of a gay, sunny little old garrison2 town, Bienville by name, in the south of France.
He had his friends, his foes3, his lady-love, and also he had arranged his plan of life. He knew himself to be the most fortunate person in all Bie[Pg 2]nville. In the first place, his mother, Madame Marcel, kept the only candy shop in the town, and Toni, being the only child of his mother, and she a widow, enjoyed all the advantages of this envied position. He had no father such as other boys had—Paul Verney, for example, the advocate’s son—to make him go to school when he would rather lie on his stomach in the meadow down by the river, and watch the butterflies dancing in the sun and the foolish bumblebees stumbling like drunkards among the clover blossoms.
Paul Verney was his best friend,—that is, except Jacques. Toni, owing to his exceptional position, as the only son of the house of Marcel, candy manufacturer, would have had no lack of friends among boys of his own age, but he was afraid of other boys, except Paul Verney. This was pure cowardice5 on Toni’s part, because, although short for his age, he was well built and had as good legs and arms and was as well able to take care of himself as any boy in Bienville. Paul Verney was a pink-cheeked, clean, well set up boy two years older than Toni, and as industrious6 as Toni was idle, as anxious to learn as Toni was determined7 not to learn, as honest with his father, the lawyer, as Toni was unscrupulous with his mother about the amount of candy he consumed, and as full of quiet courage with other boys as Toni was an arrant8 and shameless poltroon9 about some things. Toni was classed as a bad boy and Paul Verney as a good boy, yet the two formed one of those strange kinships of the soul which are stronger than blood ties and last as long as life itself.
Toni, being of a shrewd and discerning mind, realized that Paul Verney would have loved him just as much if Madame Marcel had not kept a candy shop, and this differentiated10 him from all the other boys in Bienville, and although Paul often severely11 reprobated Toni, and occasionally gave him kicks and cuffs12, which Toni could have resented but did not, he had no fear whatever of Paul.
Toni’s other friend, Jacques, was a soldier. Jacques was about three inches high and was made of tin. He had once been a very smart soldier, with red trousers and an imposing13 shako, and a musket14 as big as himself, but the paint had been worn off the trousers and shako long ago; and as for the musket, only the butt4 remained. Jacques lived in Toni’s pocket and he was even more intimate with him than with Paul Verney. There were seasons when Paul Verney’s kicks and cuffs caused a temporary estrangement15 from him on Toni’s part, but there was never any estrangement between Toni and Jacques. Jacques never remonstrated16 with Toni, never contradicted him, never wanted any share of the candy which Toni abstracted under his mother’s nose and ran down in the meadow to munch17. There were some things Toni could say to Jacques that he could not say to any human being in the world, not even to Paul Verney, and Jacques never showed the least surprise or disgust. It is a great thing to have a perfectly18 complaisant19, unvarying friend always close to one, and such was Jacques to Toni.
Toni had heard something about the war which occurred a long time ago, when the soldiers went a great way off from Bienville to a place called Russia, where it was very cold. In Toni’s mind, Jacques had been to that place, and that was where he lost the red paint off his trousers, and the black paint off his shako, and the barrel of his musket. Toni had a way of talking to Jacques, and imagined that Jacques talked back to him, a notion which, when Toni repeated what Jacques had said to him, Paul Verney thought quite ridiculous. Jacques told Toni long stories about that cold place called Russia. Toni knew that there was another place, very hot, called Algeria, and Jacques had been there, too. Jacques had been everywhere that the soldiers had been, and he told Toni long tales about these places in the summer nights, when Toni was in his little bed under the roof, with the stars peeping in roguishly at the window, and Madame Marcel’s tongue and knitting needles clacking steadily20 down stairs at the open door of the shop. And on winter days, when Toni left home for school and changed his mind and went snow-balling instead, Jacques encouraged him by telling him that it was very like Russia.
Toni also found another use for Jacques. When he wished to say things which his mother occasionally and properly cuffed21 him for, he could talk it all out with Jacques. This seemed supremely22 absurd to Paul Verney and the other boys in the neighborhood, notably23 the five sons of Clery, the tailor, who jeered24 at Toni when they discovered his relations with Jacques. But Toni was as insensible to ridicule25 as to reproof26. The only thing that really moved him was when his mother had rheumatism27 and her knees swelled28. Then Toni would cry as if his heart would break, the big tears running down his dirty face as he sobbed29 and buried his fists in his hair, and would not be comforted, even though his mother could sit in her chair by the stove, and stir the candy kettle, and would give him the kettle to lick, after she had poured the candy out. But this was never more than once or twice a year, and the rest of the time Toni was as happy and as free from care as the birdlings in spring that sang under the linden trees in the park.
Toni had already arranged a marriage of convenience for himself, which was of the most advantageous30 description. Across the street from Madame Marcel’s shop was the baking establishment of Mademoiselle Duval, and Denise, the niece and idol31 of Mademoiselle Duval, was just two years younger than Toni and as pretty as a pink and white bonbon32—in fact, she looked not unlike a bonbon. She had very pink cheeks, and very blue eyes, and a long plait of yellow hair, like the yellow candy of mélasse which Madame Marcel made every Saturday morning.
Denise was as correct as Toni was incorrect. She always said, “Oui, Monsieur,” and “Non, Madame,” in the sweetest little voice imaginable, with her eyes cast down and her plump hands crossed before her. Not a hair of her blond head was ever out of place, and the blue-checked apron33 which extended from her neck to her heels was as speckless34 as the white muslin frock she wore in church on Sundays. She was the most obedient of children, and Madame Marcel, when she wept and scolded Toni for his numerous misdeeds, often told him that she wished he were only half as good as Denise Duval, who had never disobeyed her aunt in her life. Toni smiled mysteriously whenever his mother said this, and chuckled35 inwardly at something known only to Jacques and himself, namely, that when he grew to be a man he meant to marry Denise. What could be better than the combination of a candy shop and a cook shop and bakery?
And then there were other advantages connected with the match. Many of the little girls that Toni knew had large and dangerous-looking fathers, some of them soldiers with fierce mustaches, and these fathers sometimes kicked and cuffed idle little boys who should have been at school or at home instead of lying in the meadow or loitering upon the bench under the acacia tree by Mademoiselle Duval’s shop, inhaling36 the delicious odors of the bakery kitchen. Denise had a father who was, indeed, large and dangerous-looking and was a soldier, too; nay37, a sergeant38, and had the fiercest mustache Toni had ever seen, but he only came to Bienville once a year for a few days on his annual leave, and seemed to Toni a most irrational39 and singular person. For although he could, if he wished, have eaten all the cakes in his sister’s shop, Toni never saw him so much as look at one of them.
On this annual reappearance of Sergeant Duval, Toni kept carefully out of the way. Once when he was hiding under the counter of the shop he had overheard the sergeant asking Madame Marcel why she did not make that little rascal40 of hers go to school, and when Madame Marcel, a pretty, plump widow of forty, tearfully admitted that she could not, of herself, manage Toni, the sergeant promptly41 offered to give Toni a good thrashing as a favor to Madame Marcel. This, Madame Marcel, in a panic, declined, and then the sergeant made a proposition still more shocking to Toni’s feelings.
“Then why, Madame,” he said gallantly42, twirling his mustache, “do you not marry again? If I were young and handsome enough I should offer myself, and then, I warrant you, I would make that young rogue43 of yours behave himself.”
Whether this were an offer or not, Madame Marcel could not determine. She might have fancied the dashing, fierce-looking sergeant, with his five medals on his breast, but that proposition to thrash Toni robbed the proposal of all its charm. And besides that, Madame Marcel, although she praised Denise, felt a secret jealousy44 of the little girl’s perfections. Toni, as a rule, was less afraid of soldiers than any other people, especially if they were cavalrymen, for Toni dearly loved horses and was not the least cowardly about them, and felt a secret bond of sympathy between himself and all who had to do with the cult46 of the horse.
Bienville had been a place of considerable military consequence, in the old, far-off days, and still retained evidences of having had ten thousand troops quartered there in long rows of tumble-down barrack buildings. But not much remained of this former consequence except the old barracks, a hideous47 war monument in the public square, and a very grim old woman, the widow of a soldier in the Napoleonic Wars. Toni regarded the monument and old Marie, in her mob cap and spectacles, sitting proud and stern on a bench in the public square, as belonging to each other. All the soldiers, and even the officers, saluted48 old Marie as they passed—tributes which were received with proud composure.
Everything else in the town of Bienville was gay and cheerful, except the monument and old Marie. It was now garrisoned49 by one cavalry45 regiment50 only, and was a depot51 for horses and cavalry recruits. There was a big riding-school with a tan-bark floor, where the new recruits were broken in and taught to ride. It was Toni’s delight to crawl in by the window or the small side door, and, hiding under a pile of horse furniture in a corner, watch the horses gallop52 around, their hoofs53 beating softly on the tan-bark, their eyes bright and glistening54, their crests55 up, and their coats shining like satin with much currying56 at the hands of brawny57 troopers.
Toni did not know what it was to be afraid of a horse, and loved nothing better than to hang about the barracks stables and riding-school and take cheerfully the cuffs and kicks he got from the soldiers for being in the way. Especially was this true on Sundays when he did not have Paul Verney’s company, for Paul went to church obediently, while Toni, after submitting to be washed and dressed clean, was almost certain to run away, disregarding his mother’s frantic58 cries after him, and spend the whole morning in the delightful59 precincts of the barracks stables. Jacques liked it, too, and told Toni it reminded him of those glorious old days when his trousers and shako were new and he carried his musket jauntily60, in the long red line that set out for Russia. So Toni haunted the barracks stables to please Jacques as well as himself.
One glorious and never-to-be-forgotten day, a good-natured trooper had hoisted61 Toni on the back of a steady-going old charger, who knew as much about teaching recruits to ride as any soldier in the regiment. The old charger, being offended at finding the small, wriggling62 object upon his back, took it into his head, for the first time since his colthood, to plunge63 and kick violently, and ended by bolting out of the barracks yard and making straight across the edge of the town, through the meadow to the old stone bridge that spanned the river. The trooper, who had meant to oblige Toni, suddenly realized that the boy was the only son of his mother and she a widow. Jumping on another horse, he galloped64 after Toni, down the stony65 street, into the green lane and across the bridge.
The old charger, who was eighteen years old, gave out at the end of the bridge and came down to a sober trot66. He had not, with all his efforts, got rid of the small, wriggling object on his back. As for Toni, he had the time of his life. It was the one full draft of riotous67 joy that he had tasted. It was better even than licking the candy kettle on Saturday mornings. The wild flight through the air, as it seemed to Toni, the snorting breath of the old charger, the delicious sense of bumping up and down, lifted him into an ecstasy68. When the trooper came up the horse was sedately69 browsing70 by the wayside, and Toni, with his arms clasped around the horse’s neck and his black head down on his mane, was in a little Heaven of his own. The trooper, who had expected to find Toni lying by the roadside, mangled71, was immensely relieved and swore at him out of pure joy, and, as a reward for not having got his neck broken, allowed Toni to ride the old charger back into the town. This was not to be compared with that wild flight through space, that glorious bumping up and down, that sense of delight in feeling the horse panting under him; but it was something.
Toni, trotting72 soberly home, concluded that he would not tell his mother, but he meant to tell Jacques all about it, and, putting his hand in his pocket, Jacques was not there! Oh, what agony was Toni’s then! He burst into a fit of weeping, and, rushing back to the riding-school, crawled around frantically73 everywhere the troopers would let him go, searching for his loved and lost Jacques. The story of his ride had got out by that time and he was not kicked and cuffed when he searched, with streaming eyes and loud sobs74, for his dearly loved Jacques. But Jacques could not be found, not even along the stone street, nor by the lanes, nor across the old stone bridge, and the day grew dark to Toni. He searched all day, and when he went home at night and told his mother of his loss, Madame Marcel wept, too. It was no good to promise him a whole company of tin soldiers. They were only tin soldiers, but Jacques was his friend, his confidant, his other self, his oversoul. Toni cried himself to sleep that night. It was so lonely up in the little garret without Jacques! And Toni knew that Jacques was lonely without him. Toni pictured poor Jacques, alone and forlorn, lost in the tan-bark, or trampled75 under foot in the street, or floating down the darkling river, or perhaps being chewed up by the goats that browsed76 on the other side of the bridge. In the middle of the night Madame Marcel was awakened77 by Toni’s groans78 and cries.
“Oh, mama, mama!” he cried, “how lonely Jacques must be! What is he thinking of now? He has no musket to take care of himself. Oh, mama!”—and then Toni howled again.
The next day Toni was up at dawn searching for his beloved. He searched all the morning, but he could not find the lost one. When he came home to dinner at twelve o’clock, he met Paul Verney, and Paul saw by Toni’s woebegone look and tear-stained face that some calamity79 had befallen him. Toni had looked forward with triumphant80 pleasure to telling Paul about that wild ride on the old horse’s back, but he could give it no thought. Paul was kind and sympathetic and understood Toni’s sorrow, which was of some little comfort to the bereaved81 one. While the two boys sat together on the bench under the acacia tree, close to Madame Marcel’s shop, up came little Denise, as neat and pink and white as ever. One of her hands was closed, and, as she approached Toni, she said, in the sweetest small voice in the world:
“Toni, is this yours? I found it in the street,”—and, opening her little hand—oh, joy!—there was Jacques, his shako a little crooked82, one of his legs out of plumb83, but it was Jacques. Toni, without a word of thanks, seized Jacques, and, rushing off, flew to his favorite spot for meditation—a little corner on one of the abutments of the old stone bridge. Once there, he kissed Jacques and held him to his breast, and told him of the heart-breaking search made for him, and Jacques, as usual, was silently sympathetic and understood all that Toni had suffered.
Meanwhile Paul Verney, ashamed for Toni’s want of manners in not thanking Denise and all unaware84 of the great wave of gratitude85 that was surging through Toni’s whole being, went into the shop and told Madame Marcel of Toni’s good fortune. Madame Marcel was so overjoyed that she not only invited Paul to help himself to whatever he wanted in the way of sweets, but ran out and, catching86 Denise in her arms, kissed her and brought her into the shop and invited her, as she had invited Paul Verney, to select what she wished. Denise, with characteristic modesty87, took two small sticks of candy, but Madame Marcel gave her, as well as Paul, a large bag of very beautiful bonbons88.
It was late in the afternoon before Toni appeared, his eyes shining like the stars that peeped in at his little window, his wide mouth showing all his white teeth. Madame Marcel took him by the hand, and they went over with state and ceremony to thank Denise for restoring the loved and lost Jacques. Toni felt indignant that Mademoiselle Duval, a tall, thin, elderly, heartless, maiden89 lady, should laugh at Jacques when Toni displayed him, and tell Madame Marcel she could have bought a couple of boxes of tin soldiers for one-half the bonbons she had given Denise. But Toni had known all the time that very few grown people know anything about boys, and was simply filled with contempt for Mademoiselle Duval. She was thin and ugly, too, not round and plump like his own mother, and had the bad taste to prefer clean, well-mannered little girls to dirty and greedy boys. Up to that time, Toni’s feelings toward Denise had been purely90 of a mercenary character, but from the day she restored Jacques a little seedling91 sentiment sprang up in Toni’s heart; the great master of all passions had planted it there. It was something like what he felt for Paul Verney—a sense of well-being92, even of protection, when Denise was near. She had acted the part of a guardian93 angel, she had restored Jacques to him, and she did not seem to mind his dirty face and grimy hands. She acquired a bewitching habit of dividing with Toni the stale apple tarts94 her aunt gave her, and, beckoning95 to him across the street, she would have him sit by her on the bench under the acacia tree and always give him at least two-thirds of the tarts.
A few days after the tragedy of Jacques’ loss and return, Sergeant Duval, Denise’s father, appeared for his annual visit to Bienville. The story of Jacques was told to him, and when he came over to pay his call of ceremony on Madame Marcel, he was so rude as to twit Toni about Jacques. Toni, much displeased96 at this, retired97 to his usual place of refuge under the counter, and concluded that when he married Denise he would contrive98 to be absent during Sergeant Duval’s annual visit.
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1
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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arrant
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| adj.极端的；最大的 | |
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poltroon
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| n.胆怯者；懦夫 | |
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differentiated
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| 区分，区别，辨别( differentiate的过去式和过去分词 )； 区别对待； 表明…间的差别，构成…间差别的特征 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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estrangement
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| n.疏远，失和，不和 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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munch
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| v.用力嚼，大声咀嚼 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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complaisant
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| adj.顺从的，讨好的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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bonbon
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| n.棒棒糖；夹心糖 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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speckless
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| adj.无斑点的，无瑕疵的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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irrational
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| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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44
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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45
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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48
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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49
garrisoned
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| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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51
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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52
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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53
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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55
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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currying
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| 加脂操作 | |
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brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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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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riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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browsing
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| v.吃草( browse的现在分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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bonbons
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| n.小糖果( bonbon的名词复数 ) | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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seedling
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| n.秧苗，树苗 | |
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well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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