It was my little friend Antoinette (she was six and I seven) who was telling me the story which had been suggested to her because we were about to break and divide an apricot between us. We were at the extreme end of her garden in the lovely month of June under a branching apricot tree. We sat very close together upon the same stool in a house about as big as a bee-hive, which we had built for our exclusive use out of old planks1. Our dwelling2 was covered with pieces of foreign matting that had come from the Antilles packed about some boxes of coffee. The sunbeams pierced the roof, which was of a coarse straw-colored material, and the warm breeze that stirred the leaves of the trees about us made the sunlight dance as it fell upon our faces and aprons3. (During at least two summers it had been our favorite amusement to build, in isolated4 nooks, houses like the one described in Robinson Crusoe, and thus hidden away we would sit together and chat.) In the story of the little girl who was bitten by the big creature this phrase, “a very large fruit from the colonies,” had suddenly plunged5 me into a reverie. And I had a vision of trees, of strange fruits, and of forests filled with marvelously colored birds. Ah! how much those magical but disturbing words, “the colonies” conveyed to me in my childhood. To me they meant at that time all tropical and distant countries, which I invariably thought of as filled with giant palms, exquisite6 flowers, strange black people and great animals. Although my ideas were so confused I had an almost true conception, amounting to an intuition, of their mournful splendor7 and their enervating8 melancholy9.
I think that I saw a palm for the first time in an illustrated10 book called the “Young Naturalists,” by Madame Ulliac-Tremadeure; the book was one of my New Year's gifts, and I read some parts of it upon New Year's evening. (Green-house palms had not at that time been brought to our little town.)
The illustrator had placed two of these unfamiliar11 trees at the edge of a sea-shore along which negroes were passing. Recently I was curious enough to hunt in the little yellow, faded book for that picture, and truly I wonder how that illustration had the power to create the very least of my dreams unless it were that my immature12 mind was already leavened13 by the memory of memories.
“The colonies!” Ah! how can I give an adequate idea of all that awoke in my mind at the sound of these words? A fruit from there, a bird or a shell, had instantly the greatest charm for me.
There were a number of things from the tropics in little Antoinette's home: a parrot, birds of many colors in a cage, and collections of shells and insects. In one of her mamma's bureau drawers I had seen quaint14 necklaces of fragrant15 berries; in the garret, where we sometimes rummaged16, we found skins of animals and peculiar17 bags and cases upon which could still be made out the names of towns in the Antilles; and a faint tropical odor scented18 the entire house.
Antoinette's garden, as I have said, was separated from ours by a very low wall overgrown with roses and jasmine. And the very old pomegranate tree growing there spread its branches into our yard, and at the blooming season its coral-red petals19 were scattered20 upon our grass.
“Can I come over and play with you?” I would ask. “Will your mamma allow me?”
“No, because I have been naughty and I am being punished.” (That happened very often.)—Such an answer always grieved me a great deal; but I must confess that it was more on account of my disappointment over the parrot and the tropical things than because of her punishment.
Little Antoinette had been born in the colonies, but, curiously22 enough, she never seemed to value that fact, and they had very little charm for her, indeed she scarcely remembered them. I would have given everything I possessed23 in the world to have seen, if only for the briefest time, one of those distant countries, inaccessible24 to me, as I well knew.
With a regret that was almost anguish25 I thought, alas26! that in my life as minister, live as long as I might, I would never, never see those enchanting27 lands.
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1 planks | |
(厚)木板( plank的名词复数 ); 政纲条目,政策要点 | |
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2 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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3 aprons | |
围裙( apron的名词复数 ); 停机坪,台口(舞台幕前的部份) | |
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4 isolated | |
adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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5 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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6 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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7 splendor | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
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8 enervating | |
v.使衰弱,使失去活力( enervate的现在分词 ) | |
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9 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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10 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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11 unfamiliar | |
adj.陌生的,不熟悉的 | |
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12 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
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13 leavened | |
adj.加酵母的v.使(面团)发酵( leaven的过去式和过去分词 );在…中掺入改变的因素 | |
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14 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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15 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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16 rummaged | |
翻找,搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 ); 已经海关检查 | |
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17 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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18 scented | |
adj.有香味的;洒香水的;有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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19 petals | |
n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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20 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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21 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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22 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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23 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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24 inaccessible | |
adj.达不到的,难接近的 | |
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25 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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26 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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27 enchanting | |
a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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