It was a fine morning in early May and everything was sweet and green and as familiar as it had always been. The graveyard was carpeted with thick green grass, and all around the graveyard and the church there was the incomparable green velvet6 of young wheat. And the thought came back to Gant, as it had come to him a thousand times, that the wheat around the graveyard looked greener and richer than any other wheat that he had ever seen. And beside him on his right were the great fields of the Schaefer farm, some richly carpeted with young green wheat, and some ploughed, showing great bronze-red strips of fertile nobly-swelling earth. And behind him on the great swell7 of the land, and commanding that sweet and casual scene with the majesty8 of its incomparable lay was Jacob Schaefer’s great red barn and to the right the neat brick house with the white trimming of its windows, the white picket9 fence, the green yard with its rich tapestry10 of flowers and lilac bushes and the massed leafy spread of its big maple11 trees. And behind the house the hill rose, and all its woods were just greening into May, still smoky, tender and unfledged, gold-yellow with the magic of young green. And before the woods began there was the apple orchard12 half-way up the hill; the trees were heavy with the blossoms and stood there in all their dense13 still bloom incredible.
And from the greening trees the bird-song rose, the grass was thick with the dense gold glory of the dandelions, and all about him were a thousand magic things that came and went and never could be captured. Below the church, he passed the old frame-house where Elly Spangler, who kept the church keys, lived, and there were apple trees behind the house, all dense with bloom, but the house was rickety, unpainted and dilapidated as it had always been, and he wondered if the kitchen was still buzzing with a million flies, and if Elly’s half-wit brothers, Jim and Willy, were inside. And even as he shook his head and thought, as he had thought so many times, “Poor Elly,” the back door opened and Willy Spangler, a man past thirty, wearing overalls14 and with a fond, foolish witless face, came galloping15 down across the yard toward him, flinging his arms out in exuberant16 greeting, and shouting to him the same welcome that he shouted out to everyone who passed, friends and strangers all alike —“I’ve been lookin’ fer ye! I’ve been lookin’ fer ye, Oll,” using, as was the custom of the friends and kinsmen17 of his Pennsylvania boyhood, his second name — and then, anxiously, pleadingly, again the same words that he spoke18 to everyone: “Ain’t ye goin’ to stay?”
And Gant, grinning, but touched by the indefinable sadness and pity which that kind and witless greeting had always stirred in him since his own childhood, shook his head, and said quietly:
“No, Willy. Not today. I’m meeting someone down the road”— and straightway felt, with thudding heart, a powerful and nameless excitement, the urgency of that impending19 meeting — why, where, with whom, he did not know — but all-compelling now, inevitable20.
And Willy, still with wondering, foolish, kindly21 face followed along beside him now, saying eagerly, as he said to everyone:
“Did ye bring anythin’ fer me? Have ye got a chew?”
And Gant, starting to shake his head in refusal, stopped suddenly, seeing the look of disappointment on the idiot’s face, and putting his hand in the pocket of his coat, took out a plug of apple-tobacco, saying:
“Yes. Here you are, Willy. You can have this.”
And Willy, grinning with foolish joy, had clutched the plug of tobacco and, still kind and foolish, had followed on a few steps more, saying anxiously:
“Are ye comin’ back, Oll? Will ye be comin’ back real soon?”
And Gant, feeling a strange and nameless sorrow, answered:
“I don’t know, Willy”— for suddenly he saw that he might never come this way again.
But Willy, still happy, foolish, and contented22, had turned and galloped23 away toward the house, flinging his arms out and shouting as he went:
“I’ll be waitin’ fer ye. I’ll be waitin’ fer ye, Oll.”
And Gant went on then, down the road, and there was a nameless sorrow in him that he could not understand and some of the brightness had gone out of the day.
When he got to the mill, he turned left along the road that went down by Spangler’s Run, crossed by the bridge below, and turned from the road into the wood-path on the other side. A child was standing24 in the path, and turned and went on ahead of him. In the wood the sunlight made swarming25 moths26 of light across the path and through the leafy tangle27 of the trees: the sunlight kept shifting and swarming on the child’s golden hair, and all around him were the sudden noises of the wood, the stir, the rustle28, and the bullet thrum of wings, the cool broken sound of hidden water.
The wood got denser29, darker as he went on and coming to a place where the path split away into two forks, Gant stopped, and turning to the child said, “Which one shall I take?” And the child did not answer him.
But someone was there in the wood before him. He heard footsteps on the path, and saw a footprint in the earth, and turning took the path where the footprint was and where it seemed he could hear someone walking.
And then, with the bridgeless instancy of dreams, it seemed to him that all of the bright green-gold around him in the wood grew dark and sombre, the path grew darker, and suddenly he was walking in a strange and gloomy forest, haunted by the brown and tragic30 light of dreams. The forest shapes of great trees rose around him, he could hear no bird-song now, even his own feet on the path were soundless, but he always thought he heard the sound of someone walking in the wood before him. He stopped and listened: the steps were muffled31, softly thunderous; they seemed so near that he thought that he must catch up with the one he followed in another second, and then they seemed immensely far away, receding32 in the dark mystery of that gloomy wood. And again he stopped and listened, the footsteps faded, vanished, he shouted, no one answered. And suddenly he knew that he had taken the wrong path, that he was lost. And in his heart there was an immense and quiet sadness, and the dark light of the enormous wood was all around him; no birds sang.
点击收听单词发音
1 graveyard | |
n.坟场 | |
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2 apprenticeship | |
n.学徒身份;学徒期 | |
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3 slabs | |
n.厚板,平板,厚片( slab的名词复数 );厚胶片 | |
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4 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
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5 itinerant | |
adj.巡回的;流动的 | |
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6 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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7 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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8 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
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9 picket | |
n.纠察队;警戒哨;v.设置纠察线;布置警卫 | |
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10 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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11 maple | |
n.槭树,枫树,槭木 | |
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12 orchard | |
n.果园,果园里的全部果树,(美俚)棒球场 | |
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13 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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14 overalls | |
n.(复)工装裤;长罩衣 | |
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15 galloping | |
adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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16 exuberant | |
adj.充满活力的;(植物)繁茂的 | |
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17 kinsmen | |
n.家属,亲属( kinsman的名词复数 ) | |
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18 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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19 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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20 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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21 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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22 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
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23 galloped | |
(使马)飞奔,奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 ); 快速做[说]某事 | |
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24 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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25 swarming | |
密集( swarm的现在分词 ); 云集; 成群地移动; 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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26 moths | |
n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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27 tangle | |
n.纠缠;缠结;混乱;v.(使)缠绕;变乱 | |
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28 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
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29 denser | |
adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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30 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
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31 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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32 receding | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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