I seen him. I cursed him.
Hugh Tomlinson.
Simeon made no reference to the visit or the curse, and John waited, wondering a little whether it might be possible, even now, to undo2 the consequences of the old man’s folly3.
That there was any connection between Simeon’s growing weakness and the old Scotchman’s visit did not occur to him. There were difficulties enough in the office to account for it without going outside. As the days went by and he watched the worn face, he grew more anxious. A look haunted the eyes—something almost crafty—they gazed at the simplest thing as if unseen terror lurked5 in it; and he started at any sudden noise as one pursued.... When John, leaning across the desk, pushed a book to the floor, he leaped to his feet, his hand upraised to strike, his lip drawn6 back from his teeth in quick rage.
That night John made a midnight journey, traveling all night and coming back at dawn. He had been to consult Dr. Blake, the great specialist, laying the case before him—withholding only the name of the man whose health was in question.
The physician had listened, his head a little bent7, his eyes looking out as if seeing the man whom John described. “It’s the same story—I hear it every day,” he said. “I call it Ameri-canitis—It does n’t make much difference what you call it.... He must stop work—at once.”
The physician looked at him keenly. “I suppose not—one of the symptoms. You have influence with him—?”
John shook his head slowly. “Not enough for that. I might get him to do other things, perhaps.”
The physician nodded.
“He would take medicine?”
John smiled at the picture.
“Perhaps.” He waited a little. “I ’m afraid he ’s losing his mind,” he said. “That’s really what I want to know—I don’t dare let him go on.”
The physician assented9. “If I could see him ten minutes, I could tell, perhaps—more. But not in the dark, like this. You ask too much,” he said with a smile.
John gave a quick sigh. “He will never come to you,” he said.
The physician had drawn a paper toward him and was writing on it. “I can give certain general directions. If they don’t help, he must come.”
John waited while the pen scratched on. “These baths,” said the physician, “are good. They may help.”
John’s eyes grew dubious—a little wide with anxiety.
“These other things,” went on the physician, “are for your discretion10. He ’s probably under-nourished. Raw eggs will give him what he needs—tax him least.”
“How many?” asked John.
“All you can get into him.”
The young man’s eyes grew larger—at the way before him....
“He does n’t half breathe, I suppose?”
“I—I don’t know,” said John.
“Watch him. Take him in hand. He must breathe deep—all the time, night and day. Here, I will show you.” He put his hand on the young man’s chest. “Go on—I ’ll tell you when to stop—” He held the hand in place a few minutes, then he withdrew it with a smile. “Tell him to breathe like that,” he said quietly. “He ’ll get well then.”
“Don’t everybody breathe that way?” asked the youth helplessly.
The physician laughed out. “If they did, they would n’t be nervous wrecks11.” He handed him the list of instructions. “He must be spared any nervous worry, of course. That is the most important of all. Good-by. If he gets unmanageable, send him to me.”
“I wish I could,” said John with a little smile that was half a frown. He was not appalled12 at the details of nursing thrust upon him. He had cared for his mother too long and skilfully13 to be worried by these. But Simeon—yielding gracefully14 to being dieted—told what to eat and how to breathe and little things like that—!
During the home journey he devoted15 himself to planning ambushes16 for Simeon’s obstinacy17; and when, after a vigorous bath, he arrived at the office, he was equipped with a dozen “strictly fresh” eggs in a paper bag; a small egg-beater in one pocket and a flask18 of brandy in the other. This last was a little addition of John’s own—prompted by wisdom, and a knowledge of Simeon. He put the eggs carefully on a high shelf. It would not do to rouse untimely prejudice against them by untoward19 accidents. The egg-beater and brandy he concealed20 skilfully behind a row of ledgers21. When Simeon entered a little later, irritable22 and suspicious, there was no sign that the office was to be turned into a kind of fresh air hospital.
The windows were open and a little breeze came in. John, refreshed by his bath, was hard at work, the broad, phlegmatic23 back a kind of huge mountain of strength. The little man threw himself into his chair with a grunt24. He would rest more looking at that back than he could in a bed all night, tossing and turning through the hours.
Schemes had haunted him—visions for the road—New tracks to be run—new regulations. Investments along the route, a little here and a little there, not for the corporation, but to build up the country—capital to help out feeble enterprises. And athwart the visions ran black shadows—disturbing dreams of the C., B. and L., always waiting, weapon in hand, to spring upon him.... If only they would fight fair! He had tossed restlessly, seeking a cool place for his tired head. There was no time to spend in fighting.—So much to be done—his whole life-work to build anew.... Then he had fallen again to staring at the vision as it flared25 across the night, the vision of light and wonder.... When morning came, he had slept perhaps an hour..
But here, in the cool office, he could rest. The boy came and went with quiet step, his hand everywhere, yet without hurry, and his thought running always ahead of Simeon’s, smoothing the way.
The president of the road had intended to rest, but before he knew it, he was hurrying feverishly26 to finish a letter for the ten o’clock mail. His head throbbed27 and his hand, as it dipped the pen in the ink, shook quick spatters across the paper. He swore under his breath, dabbing28 the blotter here and there.... There was a gentle shiver of egg shell, a little whirring sound that buzzed, and then, upon the air of the room, a subtle, pervasive29 odor. Simeon raised his head and sniffed30. Then he looked around. The boy was at his elbow.
“You’d better take this, sir,” he said casually31. He set it down beside him, picked up a pile of papers and returned to his own desk.
Simeon dropped an eye to the glass of yellow foam32. He looked hastily away. He particularly and fervently33 hated an egg—and an egg that foamed—“Bah!” He wrote savagely34, the gentle odor stealing up wooingly, appealingly to his nostrils35. He moved restlessly in his chair, throwing back his head, as if to shake it off. Then his hand reached out slowly—shook a little—and closed upon it.
John, with his back to him, went on slowly sorting papers. When he looked around, the glass, with its little flecks36 of foam, stood empty and Simeon was writing fiercely. The boy took the glass to the faucet37 and washed it, humming a little, gentle tune38 to himself as the water ran. The first step in a long and difficult way had been taken.
But no one knew better than John that it was only a first step and that the road ahead was strewn with difficulties.... It was at the seventh egg that Simeon rebelled openly, and John was forced to retire upon six-thankful to have achieved as much as this, and thankful to have discovered the limit. “As many as you can get into him,” the physician had said. John had not known what this number might be, until the day of the explosion—when the seventh egg was proffered39 and rejected.
He had swept up the fragments of glass and repaired damages with grateful heart.... Six a day was the limit. But there ought to be a great deal of nourishment40 in six eggs.
That there was, Simeon’s conduct proved. He rose to a kind of new, fierce strength that exhausted41 itself each day.
“He ’s just eggs!” thought the youth, watching him gloomily. “He has n’t gained an inch. It all goes into work.” And he set himself anew to spare the nervous, driven frame.
There were times when he hoped, for a little, that a permanent gain had been made. But an emergency would arise and three days would be used up in one blaze of wrath42.
The C., B. and L. was tireless in its attacks, goading43 him on, nagging44 him—now here, now there—till he shook his nervous fists, palpitating, in air.
“They’ve held back those machines on purpose,” he said, one morning, late in September.
“Those machines” were a consignment45 of harvesters, sidetracked somewhere along the C., B. and L. and not to be located. The “B. and Q.” had been telegraphing frantically46 for weeks—only to receive cool and regretful apologies. Farmers were besieging47 the road. A whole crop depended on the issue.
Simeon tossed the last telegram to John with a grunt. “We ’ll have to give it up,” he said grimly, “it’s too late. But they shall pay for it—if there is a law in the land, they shall make it good—every cent. Think of that crop—wasted for deviltry!” He groaned48 suddenly and the hand resting on the desk trembled heavily.
“You could n’t have helped it, sir,” said John. “They would have done it, anyway, and you’ve made them trouble enough.”
“I don’t know—I don’t know.” He turned his head restlessly, as if pursued. “I think any other man would have made ’em.”
The young man laughed out. “They ’re afraid of you, sir—for their life! You ’ve made the ’R. and Q.’”
The man gulped49 a little. He glanced suspiciously at the door. “I’ve ruined it, I think,” he said slowly. “There ’s a curse on everything I touch!”
“Nonsense! Look at me!” The young man threw back his head, choosing the first words at hand to banish50 the look in Simeon’s face. It was this look—the shadow haunting the eyes, that troubled him. Sometimes when he turned and caught it, his own heart seemed suddenly to stop its beat, at what it saw there. “Look at me!” he said laughing. “You have n’t ruined me!”
The man looked at him—a long, slow, hopeless look. Then he shook his head. “It’s no use, John. I’m broken—! The road has used all of me—” He stopped suddenly, his gaze fixed51 on the floor.... A memory rang in his ear. The high Scotch4 voice thrilled through it. “They’ve not gi’e their strength to the road, as I have. The road’s had all o’ me.”
That night John visited Dr. Blake again.
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1
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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2
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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3
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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4
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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5
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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6
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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7
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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9
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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11
wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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12
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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13
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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16
ambushes
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| n.埋伏( ambush的名词复数 )；伏击；埋伏着的人；设埋伏点v.埋伏( ambush的第三人称单数 )；埋伏着 | |
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17
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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18
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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20
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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21
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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22
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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23
phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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24
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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25
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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26
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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27
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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28
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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29
pervasive
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| adj.普遍的；遍布的，(到处)弥漫的；渗透性的 | |
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30
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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31
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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32
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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33
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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34
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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35
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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36
flecks
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| n.斑点，小点( fleck的名词复数 )；癍 | |
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37
faucet
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| n.水龙头 | |
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38
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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39
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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40
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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41
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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42
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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43
goading
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| v.刺激( goad的现在分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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44
nagging
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| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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45
consignment
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| n.寄售；发货；委托；交运货物 | |
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46
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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47
besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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48
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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49
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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50
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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51
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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