One day my English lessons ceased abruptly1. The weather was getting hot and one of my pupils, feeling too lazy to go on with his lessons, dismissed me. The other disappeared from his lodgings2 without notice, owing me twelve francs. I was left with only thirty centimes and no tobacco. For a day and a half I had nothing to cat or smoke, and then, too hungry to put it off any longer, I packed my remaining clothes into my suitcase and took them to the pawnshop. This put an end to all pretence3 of being in funds, for I could not take my clothes out of the hotel without asking Madame F.‘s leave. I remember, however, how surprised she was at my asking her instead of removing the clothes on the sly, shooting the moon being a common trick in our quarter.
It was the first time that I had been in a French pawnshop. One went through grandiose4 stone portals (marked, of course, ‘LIBERTE, EGATITE, FRATERNITE’ they write that even over the police stations in France) into a large, bare room like a school classroom, with a counter and rows of benches. Forty or fifty people were waiting. One handed one’s pledge over the counter and sat down. Presently, when the clerk had assessed its value he would call out, ‘NUMERO such and such, will you take fifty francs?’ Sometimes it was only fifteen francs, or ten, or five — whatever it was, the whole room knew it. As I Came in the clerk called with an air of offence, ‘NUMERO 83 — here!’ and gave a little whistle and a beckon5, as though calling a dog. NUMERO 83 stepped to the counter; he was an old bearded man, with an overcoat buttoned up at the neck and frayed6 trouser-ends. Without a word the clerk shot the bundle across the counter — evidently it was worth nothing. It fell to the ground and came open, displaying four pairs of men’s woollen pants. No one could help laughing. Poor NUMERO 83 gathered up his pants and shambled out, muttering to himself.
The clothes I was pawning7, together with the suitcase, had cost over twenty pounds, and were in good condition. I thought they must be worth ten pounds, and a quarter of this (one expects quarter value at a pawnshop) was two hundred and fifty or three hundred francs. I waited without anxiety, expecting two hundred francs at the worst.
At last the clerk called my number: ‘NUMERO 97!’
‘Seventy francs?’
Seventy francs for ten pounds’ worth of clothes! But it was no use arguing; I had seen someone else attempt to argue, and the clerk had instantly refused the pledge. I took the money and the pawnticket and walked out. I had now no clothes except what I stood up in — the coat badly out at the elbow — an overcoat, moderately pawnable, and one spare shirt. Afterwards, when it was too late, I learned that it was wiser to go to a pawnshop in the afternoon. The clerks are French, and, like most French people, are in a bad temper till they have eaten their lunch.
When I got home, Madame F. was sweeping10 the BISTRO floor. She came up the steps to meet me. I could see in her eye that she was uneasy about my rent.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘what did you get for your clothes? Not much, eh?’
‘Two hundred francs,’ I said promptly11.
‘TIENS!’ she said, surprised; ‘well, THAT’S not bad. How expensive those English clothes must be!’
The lie saved a lot of trouble, and, strangely enough, it came true. A few days later I did receive exactly two hundred francs due to me for a newspaper article, and, though it hurt to do it, I at once paid every penny of it in rent. So, though I came near to starving in the following weeks, I was hardly ever without a roof.
It was now absolutely necessary to find work, and I remembered a friend of mine, a Russian waiter named Boris, who might be able to help me. I had first met him in the public ward9 of a hospital, where he was being treated for arthritis13 in the left leg. He had told me to come to him if I were ever in difficulties.
I must say something about Boris, for he was a curious character and my close friend for a long time. He was a big, soldierly man of about thirty-five, and had been good looking, but since his illness he had grown immensely fat from lying in bed. Like most Russian refugees, he had had an adventurous14 life. His parents, killed in the Revolution, had been rich people, and he had served through the war in the Second Siberian Rifles, which, according to him, was the best regiment15 in the Russian Army. After the war he had first worked in a brush factory, then as a porter at Les Halles, then had become a dishwasher, and had finally worked his way up to be a waiter. When he fell ill he was at the Hotel Scribe, and taking a hundred francs a day in tips. His ambition was to become a MAITRE D’HOTEL, save fifty thousand francs, and set up a small, select restaurant on the Right Bank.
Boris always talked of the war as the happiest time of his life. War and soldiering were his passion; he had read innumerable books of strategy and military history, and could tell you all about the theories of Napoleon, Kutuzof, Clausewitz, Moltke and Foch. Anything to do with soldiers pleased him. His favourite cafe was the Gloserie des Lilas in Montparnasse, simply because the statue of Marshal Ney stands outside it. Later on, Boris and I sometimes went to the rue12 du Commerce together. If we went by Metro16, Boris always got out at Cambronne station instead of Commerce, though Commerce was nearer; he liked the association with General Cambronne, who was called on to surrender at Waterloo, and answered simply, ‘MERDE!’
The only things left to Boris by the Revolution were his medals and some photographs of his old regiment; he had kept these when everything else went to the pawnshop. Almost every day he would spread the photographs out on the bed and talk about them:
‘VOILA, MON AMI. There you see me at the head of my company. Fine big men, eh? Not like these little rats of Frenchmen. A captain at twenty — not bad, eh? Yes, a captain in the Second Siberian Rifles; and my father was a colonel.
‘AH, MAIS, MON AMI, the ups and downs of life! A captain in the Russian Army, and then, piff! the Revolution — every penny gone. In 1916 I stayed a week at the Hotel Edouard Sept; in 1920 I was trying for a job as night watchman there. I have been night watchman, cellarman, floor scrubber, dishwasher, porter, lavatory17 attendant. I have tipped waiters, and I have been tipped by waiters.
‘Ah, but I have known what it is to live like a gentleman, MON AMI. I do not say it to boast, but the other day I was trying to compute18 how many mistresses I have had in my life, and I made it out to be over two hundred. Yes, at least two hundred . . . Ah, well, CA REVIENDRA. Victory is to him who fights the longest. Courage!’ etc. etc.
Boris had a queer, changeable nature. He always wished himself back in the army, but he had also been a waiter long enough to acquire the waiter’s outlook. Though he had never saved more than a few thousand francs, he took it for granted that in the end he would be able to set up his own restaurant and grow rich. All waiters, I afterwards found, talk and think of this; it is what reconciles them to being waiters. Boris used to talk interestingly about Hotel life:
‘Waiting is a gamble,’ he used to say; ‘you may die poor, you may make your fortune in a year. You are not paid wages, you depend on tips — ten per cent of the bill, and a commission from the wine companies on champagne19 corks20. Sometimes the tips are enormous. The barman at Maxim’s, for instance, makes five hundred francs a day. More than five hundred, in the season . . . I have made two hundred francs a day myself. It was at a Hotel in Biarritz, in the season. The whole staff, from the manager down to the PLONGEURS, was working twenty-one hours a day. Twenty-one hours’ work and two and a half hours in bed, for a month on end. Still, it was worth it, at two hundred francs a day.
‘You never know when a stroke of luck is coming. Once when I was at the Hotel Royal an American customer sent for me before dinner and ordered twenty-four brandy cocktails21. I brought them all together on a tray, in twenty-four glasses. “Now, GUARCON,” said the customer (he was drunk), “I’ll drink twelve and you’ll drink twelve, and if you can walk to the door afterwards you get a hundred francs.” I walked to the door, and he gave me a hundred francs. And every night for six days he did the same thing; twelve brandy cocktails, then a hundred francs. A few months later I heard he had been extradited by the American Government — embezzlement22. There is something fine, do you not think, about these Americans?’
I liked Boris, and we had interesting times together, playing chess and talking about war and Hotels. Boris used often to suggest that I should become a waiter. ‘The life would suit you,’ he used to say; ‘when you are in work, with a hundred francs a day and a nice mistress, it’s not bad. You say you go in for writing. Writing is bosh. There is only one way to make money at writing, and that is to marry a publisher’s daughter. But you would make a good waiter if you shaved that moustache off. You are tall and you speak English — those are the chief things a waiter needs. Wait till I can bend this accursed leg, MON AMI. And then, if you are ever out of a job, come to me.’
Now that I was short of my rent, and getting hungry, I remembered Boris’s promise, and decided23 to look him up at once. I did not hope to become a waiter so easily as he had promised, but of course I knew how to scrub dishes, and no doubt he could get me a job in the kitchen. He had said that dishwashing jobs were to be had for the asking during the summer. It was a great relief to remember that I had after all one influential24 friend to fall back on.
1 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 grandiose | |
adj.宏伟的,宏大的,堂皇的,铺张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 beckon | |
v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意,召唤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 frayed | |
adj.磨损的v.(使布、绳等)磨损,磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 pawning | |
v.典当,抵押( pawn的现在分词 );以(某事物)担保 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 arthritis | |
n.关节炎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 adventurous | |
adj.爱冒险的;惊心动魄的,惊险的,刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 metro | |
n.地铁;adj.大都市的;(METRO)麦德隆(财富500强公司之一总部所在地德国,主要经营零售) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 lavatory | |
n.盥洗室,厕所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 compute | |
v./n.计算,估计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 champagne | |
n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 corks | |
n.脐梅衣;软木( cork的名词复数 );软木塞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 cocktails | |
n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 );餐前开胃菜;混合物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 embezzlement | |
n.盗用,贪污 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 influential | |
adj.有影响的,有权势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |