I explained that I had been drifting, that I was really on my way to New York but taking my time about it. Only a few days before I had been reading of a certain Indo-English newspaper man, fresh out of India with his books and short stories, who was making a great stir. His name was Rudyard Kipling, and the enthusiasm with which he was being received made me not jealous but wishful for a career for myself. The tributes to his brilliance3 were so unanimous, and he was a mere4 youth as yet, not more than twenty-seven or -eight. He was coming to America, or was even then on his way, and the wonder of such a success filled my mind. I decided5 then and there that I would go, must go, and accordingly gave notice of my intention. My city editor merely looked at me as much as to say, “Well, I thought so,” then said: “Well, I think you’ll do better there myself, but I’m not glad to have you go. You can refer to us any time you want to.”
On Saturday I drew my pay at noon and by four o’clock had once more boarded the express which deposited me in New York the following morning at seven. My brother had long since left New York and would not be back until the following Spring. I had exchanged a word or two with my sister and found that she was not prospering6. Since Paul had left she had been forced to resort to letting rooms, H—— not having found anything to do. I wired her that I was coming, and walked in on her the next morning.
My sister, on seeing me again, was delighted. I did not know then, and perhaps if I had I should not have been so pleased, that I was looked upon by her as the possible way out of a very difficult and trying crisis which she and her two children were then facing. For H——, from being a one-time fairly resourceful and successful and aggressive man, had slipped into a most disconcerting attitude of weakness and all but indifference7 before the onslaughts of the great city.
My brother Paul, being away, saw no reason why he should be called upon to help them, since H—— was as physically8 able as himself. Aside from renting their rooms there was apparently no other source of income here, at least none which H—— troubled to provide. He appeared to be done for, played out. Like so many who have fought a fair battle and then lost, he had wearied of the game and was drifting. And my sister, like so many of the children of ordinary families the world over, had received no practical education or training and knew nothing other than housework, that profitless trade. In consequence, within a very short time after my arrival, I found myself faced by one of two alternatives: that of retiring and leaving her to shift as best she might (a step which, in view of what followed, would have been wiser but which my unreasoning sympathy would not permit me to do), or of assisting her with what means I had. But this would be merely postponing9 the day of reckoning for all of them and bringing a great deal of trouble upon myself. For, finding me willing to pay for my room and board here, and in addition to advance certain sums which had nothing to do with my obligations, H—— felt that he could now drift a little while longer and so did, accepting through his wife such doles10 as I was willing to make. My sister, fumbling11, impractical12 soul, flowing like water into any crevice13 of opportunity, accepted this sacrifice on my part.
But despite these facts, which developed very slowly, I was very much alive to the possibilities which the city then held for me. At last I was here. I told myself I had a comfortable place to stay and would remain, and from this vantage point I could now sally forth14 and reconnoiter the city at my leisure. And as in all previous instances, I devoted15 a day or two to rambling16 about, surveying the world which I was seeking to manipulate to my advantage, and then on the second or third afternoon began to investigate those newspaper offices with which I was most anxious to connect.
I can never forget the shock I received when on entering first the World, then the Sun, and later the Herald17, I discovered that one could not so much as get in to see the city editor, that worthy18 being guarded by lobby or anteroom, in which were posted as lookouts19 and buffers20 or men-at-arms as cynical21 and contemptuous a company of youths and hall boys as it has ever been my lot to meet. They were not only self-sufficient, but supercilious22, scoffing23 and ribald. Whenever I entered one of these offices there were two or three on guard, sometimes four or five in the World office, wrestling for the possession of an ink-well or a pencil or an apple, or slapping each other on the back. But let a visitor arrive with an inquiry24 of some kind, and these young banditti would cease their personal brawling25 long enough at least to place themselves as a barricade26 between the newcomer and the door to the editorial sanctum, whereupon would ensue the following routine formula, each and every one of them chewing gum or eating an apple.
“Whoja wanta see?”
“The city editor.”
“Wha’ja wanta see him about?”
“A job.”
“No vacancies27. No; no vacancies today. He says to say no vacancies today, see? You can’t go in there. He says no vacancies.”
“But can’t I even see him?”
“No; he don’t wanta see anybody. No vacancies.”
“Well, how about taking my name in to him?”
“Not if you’re lookin’ for a job. He says no vacancies.”
The tone and the manner were most disconcerting. To me, new to the city and rather overawed by the size of the buildings as well as the reputation of the editors and the publications themselves, this was all but final. For a little while after each rebuff I did not quite see how I was to overcome this difficulty. Plainly they were overrun with applicants28, and in so great a city why would they not be? But what was I to do? One must get in or write or call up on the telephone, but would any city editor worthy the name discuss a man’s fitness or attempt to judge him by a telephone conversation or a letter?
Rather dourly29 and speculatively30, therefore, after I had visited four or five of these offices with exactly the same result in each instance, I went finally to City Hall Park, which fronted the majority of them—the Sun, the Tribune, the Times, the World, the Press—and stared at their great buildings. About me was swirling31 the throng32 which has always made that region so interesting, the vast mass that bubbles upward from the financial district and the regions south of it and crosses the plaza33 to Brooklyn Bridge and the elevated roads (the subways had not come yet). About me on the benches of the park was, even in this gray, chill December weather, that large company of bums34, loafers, tramps, idlers, the flotsam and jetsam of the great city’s whirl and strife35 to be seen there today. I presume I looked at them and then considered myself and these great offices, and it was then that the idea of Hurstwood was born. The city seemed so huge and cruel. I recalled gay Broadway of the preceding summer, and the baking, isolated36, exclusive atmosphere of Fifth Avenue, all boarded up. And now I was here and it was winter, with this great newspaper world to be conquered, and I did not see how it was to be done. At four in the afternoon I dubiously37 turned my steps northward38 along the great, bustling39, solidly commercial Broadway to Fifteenth Street, walking all the way and staring into the shops. Those who recall Sister Carrie’s wanderings may find a taste of it here. In union Square, before Tiffany’s, I stared at an immense Christmas throng. Then in the darkness I wandered across to my sister’s apartment, and in the warmth and light there set me down thinking what to do. My sister noticed my mood and after a little while said:
“You’re worrying, aren’t you?”
“Oh no, I’m not,” I said rather pretentiously40.
“Oh yes, you are too. You’re wondering how you’re going to get along. I know how you are. We’re all that way. But you mustn’t worry. Paul says you can write wonderfully. You’ve only been here a day or two. You must wait until you’ve tried a little while and then see. You’re sure to get along. New York isn’t so bad, only you have to get started.”
I decided that this was true enough and proposed to give myself time to think.
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收听单词发音
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1
muzzled
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| 给（狗等）戴口套( muzzle的过去式和过去分词 )； 使缄默，钳制…言论 | |
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2
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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3
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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8
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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postponing
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| v.延期，推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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10
doles
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| 救济物( dole的名词复数 )； 失业救济金 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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impractical
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| adj.不现实的，不实用的，不切实际的 | |
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crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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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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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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19
lookouts
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| n.寻找（ 某人/某物）( lookout的名词复数 )；是某人（自己）的问题；警戒；瞭望台 | |
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20
buffers
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| 起缓冲作用的人（或物）( buffer的名词复数 )； 缓冲器； 减震器； 愚蠢老头 | |
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21
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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23
scoffing
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| n. 嘲笑, 笑柄, 愚弄 v. 嘲笑, 嘲弄, 愚弄, 狼吞虎咽 | |
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24
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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27
vacancies
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| n.空房间( vacancy的名词复数 )；空虚；空白；空缺 | |
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28
applicants
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| 申请人，求职人( applicant的名词复数 ) | |
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29
dourly
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speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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31
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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33
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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34
bums
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| n. 游荡者，流浪汉，懒鬼，闹饮，屁股 adj. 没有价值的，不灵光的，不合理的 vt. 令人失望，乞讨 vi. 混日子，以乞讨为生 | |
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35
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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36
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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38
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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39
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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40
pretentiously
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