“We’ll get the stuff into the house before the old gal1 comes along,” said Mr. Voules, “if you’ll hold the hoss.”
“How about the key?” asked Mr. Polly.
“I got the key, coming.”
And while Mr. Polly held the sweating horse and dodged2 the foam3 that dripped from its bit, the house absorbed Miriam and Mr. Voules altogether. Mr. Voules carried in the various hampers4 he had brought with him, and finally closed the door behind him.
For some time Mr. Polly remained alone with his charge in the little blind alley5 outside the Larkins’ house, while the neighbours scrutinised him from behind their blinds. He reflected that he was a married man, that he must look very like a fool, that the head of a horse is a silly shape and its eye a bulger; he wondered what the horse thought of him, and whether it really liked being held and patted on the neck or whether it only submitted out of contempt. Did it know he was married? Then he wondered if the clergyman had thought him much of an ass6, and then whether the individual lurking7 behind the lace curtains of the front room next door was a man or a woman. A door opened over the way, and an elderly gentleman in a kind of embroidered8 fez appeared smoking a pipe with a quiet satisfied expression. He regarded Mr. Polly for some time with mild but sustained curiosity. Finally he called: “Hi!”
“Hullo!” said Mr. Polly.
“You needn’t ‘old that ‘orse,” said the old gentleman.
“Spirited beast,” said Mr. Polly. “And,”— with some faint analogy to ginger9 beer in his mind —“he’s up today.”
“‘E won’t turn ‘isself round,” said the old gentleman, “anyow. And there ain’t no way through for ’im to go.”
“Verbum sap,” said Mr. Polly, and abandoned the horse and turned, to the door. It opened to him just as Mrs. Larkins on the arm of Johnson, followed by Annie, Minnie, two friends, Mrs. Punt and her son and at a slight distance Uncle Pentstemon, appeared round the corner.
“They’re coming,” he said to Miriam, and put an arm about her and gave her a kiss.
She was kissing him back when they were startled violently by the shying of two empty hampers into the passage. Then Mr. Voules appeared holding a third.
“Here! you’ll ‘ave plenty of time for that presently,” he said, “get these hampers away before the old girl comes. I got a cold collation10 here to make her sit up. My eye!”
Miriam took the hampers, and Mr. Polly under compulsion from Mr. Voules went into the little front room. A profuse11 pie and a large ham had been added to the modest provision of Mrs. Larkins, and a number of select-looking bottles shouldered the bottle of sherry and the bottle of port she had got to grace the feast. They certainly went better with the iced wedding cake in the middle. Mrs. Voules, still impassive, stood by the window regarding these things with a faint approval.
“Makes it look a bit thicker, eh?” said Mr. Voules, and blew out both his cheeks and smacked12 his hands together violently several times. “Surprise the old girl no end.”
He stood back and smiled and bowed with arms extended as the others came clustering at the door.
“Why, Un-cle Voules!” cried Annie, with a rising note.
It was his reward.
And then came a great wedging and squeezing and crowding into the little room. Nearly everyone was hungry, and eyes brightened at the sight of the pie and the ham and the convivial13 array of bottles. “Sit down everyone,” cried Mr. Voules, “leaning against anything counts as sitting, and makes it easier to shake down the grub!”
The two friends from Miriam’s place of business came into the room among the first, and then wedged themselves so hopelessly against Johnson in an attempt to get out again and take off their things upstairs that they abandoned the attempt. Amid the struggle Mr. Polly saw Uncle Pentstemon relieve himself of his parcel by giving it to the bride. “Here!” he said and handed it to her. “Weddin’ present,” he explained, and added with a confidential14 chuckle15, “I never thought I’d ‘ave to give you one — ever.”
“Who says steak and kidney pie?” bawled16 Mr. Voules. “Who says steak and kidney pie? You ‘ave a drop of old Tommy, Martha. That’s what you want to steady you. . . . Sit down everyone and don’t all speak at once. Who says steak and kidney pie? . . . ”
“Vocificeratious,” whispered Mr. Polly. “Convivial vocificerations.”
“Bit of ‘am with it,” shouted Mr. Voules, poising17 a slice of ham on his knife. “Anyone ‘ave a bit of ‘am with it? Won’t that little man of yours, Mrs. Punt — won’t ‘e ‘ave a bit of ‘am? . . . ”
“And now ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Voules, still standing18 and dominating the crammed19 roomful, “now you got your plates filled and something I can warrant you good in your glasses, wot about drinking the ‘ealth of the bride?”
“Eat a bit fust,” said Uncle Pentstemon, speaking with his mouth full, amidst murmurs20 of applause. “Eat a bit fust.”
So they did, and the plates clattered21 and the glasses chinked.
Mr. Polly stood shoulder to shoulder with Johnson for a moment.
“In for it,” said Mr. Polly cheeringly. “Cheer up, O’ Man, and peck a bit. No reason why you shouldn’t eat, you know.”
The Punt boy stood on Mr. Polly’s boots for a minute, struggling violently against the compunction of Mrs. Punt’s grip.
“Pie,” said the Punt boy, “Pie!”
“You sit ’ere and ‘ave ‘am, my lord!” said Mrs. Punt, prevailing22. “Pie you can’t ‘ave and you won’t.”
“Lor bless my heart, Mrs. Punt!” protested Mr. Voules, “let the boy ‘ave a bit if he wants it — wedding and all!”
“You ‘aven’t ‘ad ’im sick on your ‘ands, Uncle Voules,” said Mrs. Punt. “Else you wouldn’t want to humour his fancies as you do. . . . ”
“I can’t help feeling it’s a mistake, O’ Man,” said Johnson, in a confidential undertone. “I can’t help feeling you’ve been Rash. Let’s hope for the best.”
“Always glad of good wishes, O’ Man,” said Mr. Polly. “You’d better have a drink of something. Anyhow, sit down to it.”
Johnson subsided23 gloomily, and Mr. Polly secured some ham and carried it off and sat himself down on the sewing machine on the floor in the corner to devour24 it. He was hungry, and a little cut off from the rest of the company by Mrs. Voules’ hat and back, and he occupied himself for a time with ham and his own thoughts. He became aware of a series of jangling concussions25 on the table. He craned his neck and discovered that Mr. Voules was standing up and leaning forward over the table in the manner distinctive26 of after-dinner speeches, tapping upon the table with a black bottle. “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Voules, raising his glass solemnly in the empty desert of sound he had made, and paused for a second or so. “Ladies and gentlemen,— The Bride.” He searched his mind for some suitable wreath of speech, and brightened at last with discovery. “Here’s Luck to her!” he said at last.
“Here’s Luck!” said Johnson hopelessly but resolutely27, and raised his glass. Everybody murmured: “Here’s luck.”
“Luck!” said Mr. Polly, unseen in his corner, lifting a forkful of ham.
“That’s all right,” said Mr. Voules with a sigh of relief at having brought off a difficult operation. “And now, who’s for a bit more pie?”
For a time conversation was fragmentary again. But presently Mr. Voules rose from his chair again; he had subsided with a contented28 smile after his first oratorical29 effort, and produced a silence by renewed hammering. “Ladies and gents,” he said, “fill up for the second toast:— the happy Bridegroom!” He stood for half a minute searching his mind for the apt phrase that came at last in a rush. “Here’s (hic) luck to him,” said Mr. Voules.
“Luck to him!” said everyone, and Mr. Polly, standing up behind Mrs. Voules, bowed amiably30, amidst enthusiasm.
“He may say what he likes,” said Mrs. Larkins, “he’s got luck. That girl’s a treasure of treasures, and always has been ever since she tried to nurse her own little sister, being but three at the time, and fell the full flight of stairs from top to bottom, no hurt that any outward eye ‘as even seen, but always ready and helpful, always tidying and busy. A treasure, I must say, and a treasure I will say, giving no more than her due. . . . ”
She was silenced altogether by a rapping sound that would not be denied. Mr. Voules had been struck by a fresh idea and was standing up and hammering with the bottle again.
“The third Toast, ladies and gentlemen,” he said; “fill up, please. The Mother of the bride. I— er. . . . Uoo. . . . Ere! . . . Ladies and gem31, ‘Ere’s Luck to ‘er! . . . ”
收听单词发音 |
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gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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hampers
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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collation
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| n.便餐；整理 | |
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profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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convivial
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| adj.狂欢的，欢乐的 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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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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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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concussions
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| n.震荡( concussion的名词复数 )；脑震荡；冲击；震动 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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oratorical
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| adj.演说的，雄辩的 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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