When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit1 consisted of a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel2, a small lunch in a paper box, and a yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap3 of paper with her sister's address in Van Buren Street, and four dollars in money. It was in August, 1889. She was eighteen years of age, bright, timid, and full of the illusions of ignorance and youth. Whatever touch of regret at parting characterised her thoughts, it was certainly not for advantages now being given up. A gush4 of tears at her mother's farewell kiss, a touch in her throat when the cars clacked by the flour mill where her father worked by the day, a pathetic sigh as the familiar green environs of the village passed in review, and the threads which bound her so lightly to girlhood and home were irretrievably broken.
To be sure there was always the next station, where one might descend5 and return. There was the great city, bound more closely by these very trains which came up daily. Columbia City was not so very far away, even once she was in Chicago. What, pray, is a few hours--a few hundred miles? She looked at the little slip bearing her sister's address and wondered. She gazed at the green landscape, now passing in swift review, until her swifter thoughts replaced its impression with vague conjectures6 of what Chicago might be.
When a girl leaves her home at eighteen, she does one of two things. Either she falls into saving hands and becomes better, or she rapidly assumes the cosmopolitan7 standard of virtue8 and becomes worse. Of an intermediate balance, under the circumstances, there is no possibility. The city has its cunning wiles9, no less than the infinitely10 smaller and more human tempter. There are large forces which allure11 with all the soulfulness of expression possible in the most cultured human. The gleam of a thousand lights is often as effective as the persuasive12 light in a wooing and fascinating eye. Half the undoing13 of the unsophisticated and natural mind is accomplished14 by forces wholly superhuman. A blare of sound, a roar of life, a vast array of human hives, appeal to the astonished senses in equivocal terms. Without a counsellor at hand to whisper cautious interpretations15, what falsehoods may not these things breathe into the unguarded ear! Unrecognised for what they are, their beauty, like music, too often relaxes, then weakens, then perverts16 the simpler human perceptions.
Caroline, or Sister Carrie, as she had been half affectionately termed by the family, was possessed17 of a mind rudimentary in its power of observation and analysis. Self-interest with her was high, but not strong. It was, nevertheless, her guiding characteristic. Warm with the fancies of youth, pretty with the insipid18 prettiness of the formative period, possessed of a figure promising19 eventual20 shapeliness and an eye alight with certain native intelligence, she was a fair example of the middle American class--two generations removed from the emigrant21. Books were beyond her interest--knowledge a sealed book. In the intuitive graces she was still crude. She could scarcely toss her head gracefully22. Her hands were almost ineffectual. The feet, though small, were set flatly. And yet she was interested in her charms, quick to understand the keener pleasures of life, ambitious to gain in material things. A half-equipped little knight23 she was, venturing to reconnoitre the mysterious city and dreaming wild dreams of some vague, far-off supremacy24, which should make it prey25 and subject--the proper penitent26, groveling at a woman's slipper27.
"That," said a voice in her ear, "is one of the prettiest little resorts in Wisconsin."
"Is it?" she answered nervously28.
The train was just pulling out of Waukesha. For some time she had been conscious of a man behind. She felt him observing her mass of hair. He had been fidgetting, and with natural intuition she felt a certain interest growing in that quarter. Her maidenly29 reserve, and a certain sense of what was conventional under the circumstances, called her to forestall30 and deny this familiarity, but the daring and magnetism31 of the individual, born of past experiences and triumphs, prevailed. She answered.
He leaned forward to put his elbows upon the back of her seat and proceeded to make himself volubly agreeable.
"Yes, that is a great resort for Chicago people. The hotels are swell32. You are not familiar with this part of the country, are you?"
"Oh, yes, I am," answered Carrie. "That is, I live at Columbia City. I have never been through here, though."
"And so this is your first visit to Chicago," he observed.
All the time she was conscious of certain features out of the side of her eye. Flush, colourful cheeks, a light moustache, a grey fedora hat. She now turned and looked upon him in full, the instincts of self-protection and coquetry mingling33 confusedly in her brain.
"I didn't say that," she said.
"Oh," he answered, in a very pleasing way and with an assumed air of mistake, "I thought you did."
Here was a type of the travelling canvasser34 for a manufacturing house--a class which at that time was first being dubbed35 by the slang of the day "drummers." He came within the meaning of a still newer term, which had sprung into general use among Americans in 1880, and which concisely36 expressed the thought of one whose dress or manners are calculated to elicit37 the admiration38 of susceptible39 young women--a "masher." His suit was of a striped and crossed pattern of brown wool, new at that time, but since become familiar as a business suit. The low crotch of the vest revealed a stiff shirt bosom40 of white and pink stripes. From his coat sleeves protruded41 a pair of linen42 cuffs43 of the same pattern, fastened with large, gold plate buttons, set with the common yellow agates44 known as "cat's-eyes." His fingers bore several rings--one, the ever-enduring heavy seal--and from his vest dangled45 a neat gold watch chain, from which was suspended the secret insignia of the Order of Elks46. The whole suit was rather tight-fitting, and was finished off with heavy-soled tan shoes, highly polished, and the grey fedora hat. He was, for the order of intellect represented, attractive, and whatever he had to recommend him, you may be sure was not lost upon Carrie, in this, her first glance.
Lest this order of individual should permanently47 pass, let me put down some of the most striking characteristics of his most successful manner and method. Good clothes, of course, were the first essential, the things without which he was nothing. A strong physical nature, actuated by a keen desire for the feminine, was the next. A mind free of any consideration of the problems or forces of the world and actuated not by greed, but an insatiable love of variable pleasure. His method was always simple. Its principal element was daring, backed, of course, by an intense desire and admiration for the sex. Let him meet with a young woman once and he would approach her with an air of kindly48 familiarity, not unmixed with pleading, which would result in most cases in a tolerant acceptance. If she showed any tendency to coquetry he would be apt to straighten her tie, or if she "took up" with him at all, to call her by her first name. If he visited a department store it was to lounge familiarly over the counter and ask some leading questions. In more exclusive circles, on the train or in waiting stations, he went slower. If some seemingly vulnerable object appeared he was all attention--to pass the compliments of the day, to lead the way to the parlor49 car, carrying her grip, or, failing that, to take a seat next her with the hope of being able to court her to her destination. Pillows, books, a footstool, the shade lowered; all these figured in the things which he could do. If, when she reached her destination he did not alight and attend her baggage for her, it was because, in his own estimation, he had signally failed.
A woman should some day write the complete philosophy of clothes. No matter how young, it is one of the things she wholly comprehends. There is an indescribably faint line in the matter of man's apparel which somehow divides for her those who are worth glancing at and those who are not. Once an individual has passed this faint line on the way downward he will get no glance from her. There is another line at which the dress of a man will cause her to study her own. This line the individual at her elbow now marked for Carrie. She became conscious of an inequality. Her own plain blue dress, with its black cotton tape trimmings, now seemed to her shabby. She felt the worn state of her shoes.
"Let's see," he went on, "I know quite a number of people in your town. Morgenroth the clothier and Gibson the dry goods man."
"Oh, do you?" she interrupted, aroused by memories of longings50 their show windows had cost her.
At last he had a clew to her interest, and followed it deftly51. In a few minutes he had come about into her seat. He talked of sales of clothing, his travels, Chicago, and the amusements of that city.
"If you are going there, you will enjoy it immensely. Have you relatives?"
"I am going to visit my sister," she explained.
"You want to see Lincoln Park," he said, "and Michigan Boulevard. They are putting up great buildings there. It's a second New York--great. So much to see--theatres, crowds, fine houses--oh, you'll like that."
There was a little ache in her fancy of all he described. Her insignificance52 in the presence of so much magnificence faintly affected53 her. She realised that hers was not to be a round of pleasure, and yet there was something promising in all the material prospect54 he set forth55. There was something satisfactory in the attention of this individual with his good clothes. She could not help smiling as he told her of some popular actress of whom she reminded him. She was not silly, and yet attention of this sort had its weight.
"You will be in Chicago some little time, won't you?" he observed at one turn of the now easy conversation.
"I don't know," said Carrie vaguely--a flash vision of the possibility of her not securing employment rising in her mind.
"Several weeks, anyhow," he said, looking steadily56 into her eyes.
There was much more passing now than the mere57 words indicated. He recognised the indescribable thing that made up for fascination58 and beauty in her. She realised that she was of interest to him from the one standpoint which a woman both delights in and fears. Her manner was simple, though for the very reason that she had not yet learned the many little affectations with which women conceal59 their true feelings. Some things she did appeared bold. A clever companion--had she ever had one--would have warned her never to look a man in the eyes so steadily.
"Why do you ask?" she said.
"Well, I'm going to be there several weeks. I'm going to study stock at our place and get new samples. I might show you 'round."
"I don't know whether you can or not. I mean I don't know whether I can. I shall be living with my sister, and----""Well, if she minds, we'll fix that." He took out his pencil and a little pocket note-book as if it were all settled. "What is your address there?"
She fumbled60 her purse which contained the address slip.
He reached down in his hip61 pocket and took out a fat purse. It was filled with slips of paper, some mileage62 books, a roll of greenbacks. It impressed her deeply. Such a purse had never been carried by any one attentive63 to her. Indeed, an experienced traveller, a brisk man of the world, had never come within such close range before. The purse, the shiny tan shoes, the smart new suit, and the air with which he did things, built up for her a dim world of fortune, of which he was the centre. It disposed her pleasantly toward all he might do.
He took out a neat business card, on which was engraved64 Bartlett, Caryoe & Company, and down in the left-hand corner, Chas. H. Drouet.
"That's me," he said, putting the card in her hand and touching65 his name. "It's pronounced Drew-eh. Our family was French, on my father's side."
She looked at it while he put up his purse. Then he got out a letter from a bunch in his coat pocket. "This is the house I travel for," he went on, pointing to a picture on it, "corner of State and Lake." There was pride in his voice. He felt that it was something to be connected with such a place, and he made her feel that way.
"What is your address?" he began again, fixing his pencil to write.
She looked at his hand.
"Carrie Meeber," she said slowly. "Three hundred and fifty-four West Van Buren Street, care S. C. Hanson."
He wrote it carefully down and got out the purse again. "You'll be at home if I come around Monday night?" he said.
"I think so," she answered.
How true it is that words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes. Here were these two, bandying little phrases, drawing purses, looking at cards, and both unconscious of how inarticulate all their real feelings were. Neither was wise enough to be sure of the working of the mind of the other. He could not tell how his luring66 succeeded.
She could not realise that she was drifting, until he secured her address. Now she felt that she had yielded something--he, that he had gained a victory. Already they felt that they were somehow associated. Already he took control in directing the conversation. His words were easy. Her manner was relaxed.
They were nearing Chicago. Signs were everywhere numerous. Trains flashed by them. Across wide stretches of flat, open prairie they could see lines of telegraph poles stalking across the fields toward the great city. Far away were indications of suburban67 towns, some big smokestacks towering high in the air.
Frequently there were two-story frame houses standing68 out in the open fields, without fence or trees, lone69 outposts of the approaching army of homes.
To the child, the genius with imagination, or the wholly untravelled, the approach to a great city for the first time is a wonderful thing. Particularly if it be evening--that mystic period between the glare and gloom of the world when life is changing from one sphere or condition to another. Ah, the promise of the night. What does it not hold for the weary! What old illusion of hope is not here forever repeated! Says the soul of the toiler71 to itself, "I shall soon be free. I shall be in the ways and the hosts of the merry. The streets, the lamps, the lighted chamber72 set for dining, are for me. The theatre, the halls, the parties, the ways of rest and the paths of song-these are mine in the night." Though all humanity be still enclosed in the shops, the thrill runs abroad. It is in the air. The dullest feel something which they may not always express or describe. It is the lifting of the burden of toil70.
Sister Carrie gazed out of the window. Her companion, affected by her wonder, so contagious73 are all things, felt anew some interest in the city and pointed74 out its marvels75.
"This is Northwest Chicago," said Drouet. "This is the Chicago River," and he pointed to a little muddy creek76, crowded with the huge masted wanderers from far-off waters nosing the black-posted banks. With a puff77, a clang, and a clatter78 of rails it was gone. "Chicago is getting to be a great town," he went on. "It's a wonder. You'll find lots to see here."
She did not hear this very well. Her heart was troubled by a kind of terror. The fact that she was alone, away from home, rushing into a great sea of life and endeavour, began to tell. She could not help but feel a little choked for breath--a little sick as her heart beat so fast. She half closed her eyes and tried to think it was nothing, that Columbia City was only a little way off.
"Chicago! Chicago!" called the brakeman, slamming open the door. They were rushing into a more crowded yard, alive with the clatter and clang of life. She began to gather up her poor little grip and closed her hand firmly upon her purse. Drouet arose, kicked his legs to straighten his trousers, and seized his clean yellow grip.
"I suppose your people will be here to meet you?" he said. "Let me carry your grip."
"Oh, no," she said. "I'd rather you wouldn't. I'd rather you wouldn't be with me when I meet my sister."
"All right," he said in all kindness. "I'll be near, though, in case she isn't here, and take you out there safely."
"You're so kind," said Carrie, feeling the goodness of such attention in her strange situation.
"Chicago!" called the brakeman, drawing the word out long. They were under a great shadowy train shed, where the lamps were already beginning to shine out, with passenger cars all about and the train moving at a snail's pace. The people in the car were all up and crowding about the door.
"Well, here we are," said Drouet, leading the way to the door. "Good-bye, till I see you Monday."
"Good-bye," she answered, taking his proffered79 hand.
"Remember, I'll be looking till you find your sister."
She smiled into his eyes.
They filed out, and he affected to take no notice of her. A lean-faced, rather commonplace woman recognised Carrie on the platform and hurried forward.
"Why, Sister Carrie!" she began, and there was embrace of welcome.
Carrie realised the change of affectional atmosphere at once. Amid all the maze80, uproar81, and novelty she felt cold reality taking her by the hand. No world of light and merriment. No round of amusement. Her sister carried with her most of the grimness of shift and toil.
"Why, how are all the folks at home?" she began; "how is father, and mother?"
Carrie answered, but was looking away. Down the aisle82, toward the gate leading into the waiting-room and the street, stood Drouet. He was looking back. When he saw that she saw him and was safe with her sister he turned to go, sending back the shadow of a smile. Only Carrie saw it. She felt something lost to her when he moved away. When he disappeared she felt his absence thoroughly83. With her sister she was much alone, a lone figure in a tossing, thoughtless sea.
收听单词发音 |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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wiles
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| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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allure
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| n.诱惑力，魅力；vt.诱惑，引诱，吸引 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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interpretations
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| n.解释( interpretation的名词复数 )；表演；演绎；理解 | |
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perverts
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| n.性变态者( pervert的名词复数 )v.滥用( pervert的第三人称单数 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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eventual
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| adj.最后的，结局的，最终的 | |
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emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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forestall
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| vt.抢在…之前采取行动；预先阻止 | |
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magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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canvasser
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| n.挨户推销商品的推销员 | |
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dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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concisely
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| adv.简明地 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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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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agates
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| n.玛瑙( agate的名词复数 )；玛瑙制（或装有玛瑙的）工具； （小孩玩的）玛瑙纹玩具弹子；5。5磅铅字 | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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elks
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| n.麋鹿( elk的名词复数 ) | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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mileage
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| n.里程，英里数；好处，利润 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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luring
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的现在分词形式） | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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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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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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toiler
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| 辛劳者，勤劳者 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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