It was autumn in London, that blessed season between the harshness of winter and the insincerities of summer; a trustful season when one buys bulbs and sees to the registration1 of one’s vote, believing perpetually in spring and a change of Government.
Morton Crosby sat on a bench in a secluded2 corner of Hyde Park, lazily enjoying a cigarette and watching the slow grazing promenade3 of a pair of snow-geese, the male looking rather like an albino edition of the russet-hued female. Out of the corner of his eye Crosby also noted4 with some interest the hesitating hoverings of a human figure, which had passed and repassed his seat two or three times at shortening intervals5, like a wary6 crow about to alight near some possibly edible7 morsel8. Inevitably9 the figure came to an anchorage on the bench, within easy talking distance of its original occupant. The uncared-for clothes, the aggressive, grizzled beard, and the furtive10, evasive eye of the new-comer bespoke11 the professional cadger12, the man who would undergo hours of humiliating tale-spinning and rebuff rather than adventure on half a day’s decent work.
For a while the new-comer fixed13 his eyes straight in front of him in a strenuous14, unseeing gaze; then his voice broke out with the insinuating15 inflection of one who has a story to retail16 well worth any loiterer’s while to listen to.
“It’s a strange world,” he said.
As the statement met with no response he altered it to the form of a question.
“I daresay you’ve found it to be a strange world, mister?”
“As far as I am concerned,” said Crosby, “the strangeness has worn off in the course of thirty-six years.”
“Ah,” said the greybeard, “I could tell you things that you’d hardly believe. Marvellous things that have really happened to me.”
“Nowadays there is no demand for marvellous things that have really happened,” said Crosby discouragingly; “the professional writers of fiction turn these things out so much better. For instance, my neighbours tell me wonderful, incredible things that their Aberdeens and chows and borzois have done; I never listen to them. On the other hand, I have read ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ three times.”
The greybeard moved uneasily in his seat; then he opened up new country.
“I take it that you are a professing17 Christian,” he observed.
“I am a prominent and I think I may say an influential18 member of the Mussulman community of Eastern Persia,” said Crosby, making an excursion himself into the realms of fiction.
The greybeard was obviously disconcerted at this new check to introductory conversation, but the defeat was only momentary19.
“Persia. I should never have taken you for a Persian,” he remarked, with a somewhat aggrieved20 air.
“I am not,” said Crosby; “my father was an Afghan.”
“An Afghan!” said the other, smitten21 into bewildered silence for a moment. Then he recovered himself and renewed his attack.
“Afghanistan. Ah! We’ve had some wars with that country; now, I daresay, instead of fighting it we might have learned something from it. A very wealthy country, I believe. No real poverty there.”
He raised his voice on the word “poverty” with a suggestion of intense feeling. Crosby saw the opening and avoided it.
“It possesses, nevertheless, a number of highly talented and ingenious beggars,” he said; “if I had not spoken so disparagingly22 of marvellous things that have really happened I would tell you the story of Ibrahim and the eleven camel-loads of blotting-paper. Also I have forgotten exactly how it ended.”
“My own life-story is a curious one,” said the stranger, apparently23 stifling24 all desire to hear the history of Ibrahim; “I was not always as you see me now.”
“We are supposed to undergo complete change in the course of every seven years,” said Crosby, as an explanation of the foregoing announcement.
“I mean I was not always in such distressing25 circumstances as I am at present,” pursued the stranger doggedly26.
“That sounds rather rude,” said Crosby stiffly, “considering that you are at present talking to a man reputed to be one of the most gifted conversationalists of the Afghan border.”
“I don’t mean in that way,” said the greybeard hastily; “I’ve been very much interested in your conversation. I was alluding27 to my unfortunate financial situation. You mayn’t hardly believe it, but at the present moment I am absolutely without a farthing. Don’t see any prospect28 of getting any money, either, for the next few days. I don’t suppose you’ve ever found yourself in such a position,” he added.
“In the town of Yom,” said Crosby, “which is in Southern Afghanistan, and which also happens to be my birthplace, there was a Chinese philosopher who used to say that one of the three chiefest human blessings29 was to be absolutely without money. I forget what the other two were.”
“Ah, I daresay,” said the stranger, in a tone that betrayed no enthusiasm for the philosopher’s memory; “and did he practise what he preached? That’s the test.”
“He lived happily with very little money or resources,” said Crosby.
“Then I expect he had friends who would help him liberally whenever he was in difficulties, such as I am in at present.”
“In Yom,” said Crosby, “it is not necessary to have friends in order to obtain help. Any citizen of Yom would help a stranger as a matter of course.”
The greybeard was now genuinely interested.
The conversation had at last taken a favourable30 turn.
“If someone, like me, for instance, who was in undeserved difficulties, asked a citizen of that town you speak of for a small loan to tide over a few days’ impecuniosity31 — five shillings, or perhaps a rather larger sum — would it be given to him as a matter of course?”
“There would be a certain preliminary,” said Crosby; “one would take him to a wine-shop and treat him to a measure of wine, and then, after a little high-flown conversation, one would put the desired sum in his hand and wish him good-day. It is a roundabout way of performing a simple transaction, but in the East all ways are roundabout.”
The listener’s eyes were glittering.
“Ah,” he exclaimed, with a thin sneer32 ringing meaningly through his words, “I suppose you’ve given up all those generous customs since you left your town. Don’t practise them now, I expect.”
“No one who has lived in Yom,” said Crosby fervently33, “and remembers its green hills covered with apricot and almond trees, and the cold water that rushes down like a caress34 from the upland snows and dashes under the little wooden bridges, no one who remembers these things and treasures the memory of them would ever give up a single one of its unwritten laws and customs. To me they are as binding35 as though I still lived in that hallowed home of my youth.”
“Then if I was to ask you for a small loan —” began the greybeard fawningly36, edging nearer on the seat and hurriedly wondering how large he might safely make his request, “if I was to ask you for, say —”
“At any other time, certainly,” said Crosby; “in the months of November and December, however, it is absolutely forbidden for anyone of our race to give or receive loans or gifts; in fact, one does not willingly speak of them. It is considered unlucky. We will therefore close this discussion.”
“But it is still October!” exclaimed the adventurer with an eager, angry whine37, as Crosby rose from his seat; “wants eight days to the end of the month!”
“The Afghan November began yesterday,” said Crosby severely38, and in another moment he was striding across the Park, leaving his recent companion scowling39 and muttering furiously on the seat.
“I don’t believe a word of his story,” he chattered40 to himself; “pack of nasty lies from beginning to end. Wish I’d told him so to his face. Calling himself an Afghan!”
The snorts and snarls41 that escaped from him for the next quarter of an hour went far to support the truth of the old saying that two of a trade never agree.
收听单词发音 |
1
registration
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| n.登记，注册，挂号 | |
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2
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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3
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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12
cadger
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| n.乞丐；二流子；小的油容量；小型注油器 | |
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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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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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18
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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20
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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28
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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29
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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31
impecuniosity
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| n.（经常）没有钱，身无分文，贫穷 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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33
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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34
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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35
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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fawningly
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| adv.奉承地，讨好地 | |
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37
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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38
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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39
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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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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41
snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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