All the preparations for the funeral ran easily and happily under Mrs. Johnson’s skilful1 hands. On the eve of the sad event she produced a reserve of black sateen, the kitchen steps and a box of tin-tacks, and decorated the house with festoons and bows of black in the best possible taste. She tied up the knocker with black crape, and put a large bow over the corner of the steel engraving2 of Garibaldi, and swathed the bust3 of Mr. Gladstone, that had belonged to the deceased, with inky swathings. She turned the two vases that had views of Tivoli and the Bay of Naples round, so that these rather brilliant landscapes were hidden and only the plain blue enamel4 showed, and she anticipated the long-contemplated purchase of a tablecloth5 for the front room, and substituted a violet purple cover for the now very worn and faded raptures6 and roses in plushette that had hitherto done duty there. Everything that loving consideration could do to impart a dignified7 solemnity to her little home was done.
She had released Mr. Polly from the irksome duty of issuing invitations, and as the moments of assembly drew near she sent him and Mr. Johnson out into the narrow long strip of garden at the back of the house, to be free to put a finishing touch or so to her preparations. She sent them out together because she had a queer little persuasion8 at the back of her mind that Mr. Polly wanted to bolt from his sacred duties, and there was no way out of the garden except through the house.
Mr. Johnson was a steady, successful gardener, and particularly good with celery and peas. He walked slowly along the narrow path down the centre pointing out to Mr. Polly a number of interesting points in the management of peas, wrinkles neatly9 applied10 and difficulties wisely overcome, and all that he did for the comfort and propitiation of that fitful but rewarding vegetable. Presently a sound of nervous laughter and raised voices from the house proclaimed the arrival of the earlier guests, and the worst of that anticipatory11 tension was over.
When Mr. Polly re-entered the house he found three entirely12 strange young women with pink faces, demonstrative manners and emphatic13 mourning, engaged in an incoherent conversation with Mrs. Johnson. All three kissed him with great gusto after the ancient English fashion. “These are your cousins Larkins,” said Mrs. Johnson; “that’s Annie (unexpected hug and smack), that’s Miriam (resolute hug and smack), and that’s Minnie (prolonged hug and smack).”
“Right-O,” said Mr. Polly, emerging a little crumpled15 and breathless from this hearty16 introduction. “I see.”
“Here’s Aunt Larkins,” said Mrs. Johnson, as an elderly and stouter17 edition of the three young women appeared in the doorway18.
Mr. Polly backed rather faint-heartedly, but Aunt Larkins was not to be denied. Having hugged and kissed her nephew resoundingly she gripped him by the wrists and scanned his features. She had a round, sentimental19, freckled20 face. “I should ‘ave known ’im anywhere,” she said with fervour.
“Hark at mother!” said the cousin called Annie. “Why, she’s never set eyes on him before!”
“I should ‘ave known ’im anywhere,” said Mrs. Larkins, “for Lizzie’s child. You’ve got her eyes! It’s a Resemblance! And as for never seeing ’im — I’ve dandled him, Miss Imperence. I’ve dandled him.”
“You couldn’t dandle him now, Ma!” Miss Annie remarked with a shriek21 of laughter.
All the sisters laughed at that. “The things you say, Annie!” said Miriam, and for a time the room was full of mirth.
Mr. Polly felt it incumbent22 upon him to say something. “My dandling days are over,” he said.
The reception of this remark would have convinced a far more modest character than Mr. Polly that it was extremely witty24.
Mr. Polly followed it up by another one almost equally good. “My turn to dandle,” he said, with a sly look at his aunt, and convulsed everyone.
“Not me,” said Mrs. Larkins, taking his point, “thank you,” and achieved a climax25.
It was queer, but they seemed to be easy people to get on with anyhow. They were still picking little ripples26 and giggles27 of mirth from the idea of Mr. Polly dandling Aunt Larkins when Mr. Johnson, who had answered the door, ushered28 in a stooping figure, who was at once hailed by Mrs. Johnson as “Why! Uncle Pentstemon!” Uncle Pentstemon was rather a shock. His was an aged14 rather than venerable figure; Time had removed the hair from the top of his head and distributed a small dividend29 of the plunder30 in little bunches carelessly and impartially31 over the rest of his features; he was dressed in a very big old frock coat and a long cylindrical32 top hat, which he had kept on; he was very much bent23, and he carried a rush basket from which protruded33 coy intimations of the lettuces34 and onions he had brought to grace the occasion. He hobbled into the room, resisting the efforts of Johnson to divest35 him of his various encumbrances36, halted and surveyed the company with an expression of profound hostility37, breathing hard. Recognition quickened in his eyes.
“You here,” he said to Aunt Larkins and then; “You would be. . . . These your gals38?”
“They are,” said Aunt Larkins, “and better gals ——”
“That Annie?” asked Uncle Pentstemon, pointing a horny thumb-nail.
“Fancy your remembering her name!”
“She mucked up my mushroom bed, the baggage!” said Uncle Pentstemon ungenially, “and I give it to her to rights. Trounced her I did — fairly. I remember her. Here’s some green stuff for you, Grace. Fresh it is and wholesome39. I shall be wanting the basket back and mind you let me have it. . . . Have you nailed him down yet? You always was a bit in front of what was needful.”
His attention was drawn40 inward by a troublesome tooth, and he sucked at it spitefully. There was something potent41 about this old man that silenced everyone for a moment or so. He seemed a fragment from the ruder agricultural past of our race, like a lump of soil among things of paper. He put his basket of vegetables very deliberately42 on the new violet tablecloth, removed his hat carefully and dabbled43 his brow, and wiped out his hat brim with a crimson44 and yellow pocket handkerchief.
“I’m glad you were able to come, Uncle,” said Mrs. Johnson.
“Oh, I came“ said Uncle Pentstemon. “I came.”
He turned on Mrs. Larkins. “Gals in service?” he asked.
“They aren’t and they won’t be,” said Mrs. Larkins.
“No,” he said with infinite meaning, and turned his eye on Mr. Polly.
“You Lizzie’s boy?” he said.
Mr. Polly was spared much self-exposition by the tumult45 occasioned by further arrivals.
“Ah! here’s May Punt!” said Mrs. Johnson, and a small woman dressed in the borrowed mourning of a large woman and leading a very small long-haired observant little boy — it was his first funeral — appeared, closely followed by several friends of Mrs. Johnson who had come to swell46 the display of respect and made only vague, confused impressions upon Mr. Polly’s mind. (Aunt Mildred, who was an unexplained family scandal, had declined Mrs. Johnson’s hospitality.)
Everybody was in profound mourning, of course, mourning in the modern English style, with the dyer’s handiwork only too apparent, and hats and jackets of the current cut. There was very little crape, and the costumes had none of the goodness and specialisation and genuine enjoyment47 of mourning for mourning’s sake that a similar continental48 gathering49 would have displayed. Still that congestion50 of strangers in black sufficed to stun51 and confuse Mr. Polly’s impressionable mind. It seemed to him much more extraordinary than anything he had expected.
“Now, gals,” said Mrs. Larkins, “see if you can help,” and the three daughters became confusingly active between the front room and the back.
“I hope everyone’ll take a glass of sherry and a biscuit,” said Mrs. Johnson. “We don’t stand on ceremony,” and a decanter appeared in the place of Uncle Pentstemon’s vegetables.
Uncle Pentstemon had refused to be relieved of his hat; he sat stiffly down on a chair against the wall with that venerable headdress between his feet, watching the approach of anyone jealously. “Don’t you go squashing my hat,” he said. Conversation became confused and general. Uncle Pentstemon addressed himself to Mr. Polly. “You’re a little chap,” he said, “a puny52 little chap. I never did agree to Lizzie marrying him, but I suppose by-gones must be bygones now. I suppose they made you a clerk or something.”
“Outfitter,” said Mr. Polly.
“I remember. Them girls pretend to be dressmakers.”
“They are dressmakers,” said Mrs. Larkins across the room.
“I will take a glass of sherry. They ‘old to it, you see.”
He took the glass Mrs. Johnson handed him, and poised53 it critically between a horny finger and thumb. “You’ll be paying for this,” he said to Mr. Polly. “Here’s to you. . . . Don’t you go treading on my hat, young woman. You brush your skirts against it and you take a shillin’ off its value. It ain’t the sort of ‘at you see nowadays.”
He drank noisily.
The sherry presently loosened everybody’s tongue, and the early coldness passed.
“There ought to have been a post-mortem,” Polly heard Mrs. Punt remarking to one of Mrs. Johnson’s friends, and Miriam and another were lost in admiration54 of Mrs. Johnson’s decorations. “So very nice and refined,” they were both repeating at intervals55.
The sherry and biscuits were still being discussed when Mr. Podger, the undertaker, arrived, a broad, cheerfully sorrowful, clean-shaven little man, accompanied by a melancholy-faced assistant. He conversed56 for a time with Johnson in the passage outside; the sense of his business stilled the rising waves of chatter57 and carried off everyone’s attention in the wake of his heavy footsteps to the room above.
1 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
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2 engraving | |
n.版画;雕刻(作品);雕刻艺术;镌版术v.在(硬物)上雕刻(字,画等)( engrave的现在分词 );将某事物深深印在(记忆或头脑中) | |
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3 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
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4 enamel | |
n.珐琅,搪瓷,瓷釉;(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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5 tablecloth | |
n.桌布,台布 | |
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6 raptures | |
极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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7 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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8 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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9 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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10 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
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11 anticipatory | |
adj.预想的,预期的 | |
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12 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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13 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
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14 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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15 crumpled | |
adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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16 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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17 stouter | |
粗壮的( stout的比较级 ); 结实的; 坚固的; 坚定的 | |
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18 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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19 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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20 freckled | |
adj.雀斑;斑点;晒斑;(使)生雀斑v.雀斑,斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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22 incumbent | |
adj.成为责任的,有义务的;现任的,在职的 | |
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23 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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24 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
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25 climax | |
n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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26 ripples | |
逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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27 giggles | |
n.咯咯的笑( giggle的名词复数 );傻笑;玩笑;the giggles 止不住的格格笑v.咯咯地笑( giggle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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28 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29 dividend | |
n.红利,股息;回报,效益 | |
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30 plunder | |
vt.劫掠财物,掠夺;n.劫掠物,赃物;劫掠 | |
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31 impartially | |
adv.公平地,无私地 | |
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32 cylindrical | |
adj.圆筒形的 | |
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33 protruded | |
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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34 lettuces | |
n.莴苣,生菜( lettuce的名词复数 );生菜叶 | |
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35 divest | |
v.脱去,剥除 | |
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36 encumbrances | |
n.负担( encumbrance的名词复数 );累赘;妨碍;阻碍 | |
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37 hostility | |
n.敌对,敌意;抵制[pl.]交战,战争 | |
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38 gals | |
abbr.gallons (复数)加仑(液量单位)n.女孩,少女( gal的名词复数 ) | |
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39 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
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40 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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41 potent | |
adj.强有力的,有权势的;有效力的 | |
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42 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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43 dabbled | |
v.涉猎( dabble的过去式和过去分词 );涉足;浅尝;少量投资 | |
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44 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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45 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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46 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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47 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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48 continental | |
adj.大陆的,大陆性的,欧洲大陆的 | |
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49 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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50 congestion | |
n.阻塞,消化不良 | |
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51 stun | |
vt.打昏,使昏迷,使震惊,使惊叹 | |
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52 puny | |
adj.微不足道的,弱小的 | |
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53 poised | |
a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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54 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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55 intervals | |
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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56 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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57 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
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