A story with a moral appended is like the bill of a mosquito. It bores you, and then injects a stinging drop to irritate your conscience. Therefore let us have the moral first and be done with it. All is not gold that glitters, but it is a wise child that keeps the stopper in his bottle of testing acid.
Where Broadway skirts the corner of the square presided over by George the Veracious1 is the Little Rialto. Here stand the actors of that quarter, and this is their shibboleth2: "'Nit,' says I to Frohman, 'you can't touch me for a kopeck less than two-fifty per,' and out I walks."
Westward3 and southward from the Thespian4 glare are one or two streets where a Spanish-American colony has huddled5 for a little tropical warmth in the nipping North. The centre of life in this precinct is "El Refugio," a cafe and restaurant that caters6 to the volatile7 exiles from the South. Up from Chili8, Bolivia, Colombia, the rolling republics of Central America and the ireful islands of the Western Indies flit the cloaked and sombreroed senores, who are scattered9 like burning lava10 by the political eruptions11 of their several countries.
Hither they come to lay counterplots, to bide12 their time, to solicit13 funds, to enlist14 filibusterers, to smuggle15 out arms and ammunitions, to play the game at long taw. In El Refugio, they find the atmosphere in which they thrive.
In the restaurant of El Refugio are served compounds delightful17 to the palate of the man from Capricorn or Cancer. Altruism18 must halt the story thus long. On, diner, weary of the culinary subterfuges19 of the Gallic chef, hie thee to El Refugio! There only will you find a fish - bluefish, shad or pompano from the Gulf20 - baked after the Spanish method. Tomatoes give it color, individuality and soul; chili colorado bestows21 upon it zest22, originality23 and fervor24; unknown herbs furnish piquancy25 and mystery, and - but its crowning glory deserves a new sentence. Around it, above it, beneath it, in its vicinity - but never in it - hovers26 an ethereal aura, an effluvium so rarefied and delicate that only the Society for Psychical27 Research could note its origin. Do not say that garlic is in the fish at El Refugio. It is not otherwise than as if the spirit of Garlic, flitting past, has wafted28 one kiss that lingers in the parsley-crowned dish as haunting as those kisses in life, "by hopeless fancy feigned29 on lips that are for others." And then, when Conchito, the waiter, brings you a plate of brown frijoles and carafe30 of wine that has never stood still between Oporto and El Refugio - ah, Dios!
One day a Hamburg-American liner deposited upon Pier31 No. 55 Gen. Perrico Ximenes Villablanca Falcon32, a passenger from Cartagena. The General was between a claybank and bay in complexion33, had a 42-inch waist and stood 5 feet 4 with his Du Barry heels. He had the mustache of a shooting-gallery proprietor34, he wore the full dress of a Texas congressman35 and had the important aspect of an uninstructed delegate.
Gen. Falcon had enough English under his hat to enable him to inquire his way to the street in which El Refugio stood. When he reached that neighborhood he saw a sign before a respectable red-brick house that read, "Hotel Espanol." In the window was a card in Spanish, "Aqui se habla Espanol." The General entered, sure of a congenial port.
In the cozy36 office was Mrs. O'Brien, the proprietress. She had blond - oh, unimpeachably37 blond hair. For the rest she was amiability38, and ran largely to inches around. Gen. Falcon brushed the floor with his broad-brimmed hat, and emitted a quantity of Spanish, the syllables39 sounding like firecrackers gently popping their way down the string of a bunch.
"Spanish or Dago?" asked Mrs. O'Brien, pleasantly.
"I am a Colombian, madam," said the General, proudly. "I speak the Spanish. The advisment in your window say the Spanish he is spoken here. How is that?"
"Well, you've been speaking it, ain't you?" said the madam. "I'm sure I can't."
At the Hotel Espanol General Falcon engaged rooms and established himself. At dusk he sauntered out upon the streets to view the wonders of this roaring city of the North. As he walked he thought of the wonderful golden hair of Mme. O'Brien. "It is here," said the General to himself, no doubt in his own language, "that one shall find the most beautiful senoras in the world. I have not in my Colombia viewed among our beauties one so fair. But no! It is not for the General Falcon to think of beauty. It is my country that claims my devotion."
At the corner of Broadway and the Little Rialto the General became involved. The street cars bewildered him, and the fender of one upset him against a pushcart40 laden41 with oranges. A cab driver missed him an inch with a hub, and poured barbarous execrations upon his head. He scrambled42 to the sidewalk and skipped again in terror when the whistle of a peanut-roaster puffed43 a hot scream in his ear. V'algame Dios! What devil's city is this?"
As the General fluttered out of the streamers of passers like a wounded snipe he was marked simultaneously44 as game by two hunters. One was "Bully45" McGuire, whose system of sport required the use of a strong arm and the misuse46 of an eight-inch piece of lead pipe. The other Nimrod of the asphalt was "Spider" Kelley, a sportsman with more refined methods.
In pouncing47 upon their self-evident prey48, Mr. Kelley was a shade the quicker. His elbow fended49 accurately50 the onslaught of Mr. McGuire.
"G'wan!" he commanded harshly. "I saw it first." McGuire slunk away, awed51 by superior intelligence.
"Pardon me," said Mr. Kelley, to the General, "but you got balled up in the shuffle52, didn't you? Let me assist you." He picked up the General's hat and brushed the dust from it.
The ways of Mr. Kelley could not but succeed. The General, bewildered and dismayed by the resounding53 streets, welcomed his deliverer as a caballero with a most disinterested54 heart.
"I have a desire," said the General, "to return to the hotel of O'Brien, in which I am stop. Caramba! senor, there is a loudness and rapidness of going and coming in the city of this Nueva York."
Mr. Kelley's politeness would not suffer the distinguished55 Colombian to brave the dangers of the return unaccompanied. At the door of the Hotel Espanol they paused. A little lower down on the opposite side of the street shone the modest illuminated56 sign of El Refugio. Mr. Kelley, to whom few streets were unfamiliar57, knew the place exteriorly58 as a "Dago joint59." All foreigners, Mr. Kelley classed under the two heads of "Dagoes" and Frenchmen. He proposed to the General that they repair thither60 and substantiate61 their acquaintance with a liquid foundation.
An hour later found General Falcon and Mr. Kelley seated at a table in the conspirator's corner of El Refugio. Bottles and glasses were between them. For the tenth time the General confided62 the secret of his mission to the Estados Unidos. He was here, he declared, to purchase arms - 2,000 stands of Winchester rifles - for the Colombian revolutionists. He had drafts in his pocket drawn63 by the Cartagena Bank on its New York correspondent for $25,000. At other tables other revolutionists were shouting their political secrets to their fellow-plotters; but none was as loud as the General. He pounded the table; he hallooed for some wine; he roared to his friend that his errand was a secret one, and not to be hinted at to a living soul. Mr. Kelley himself was stirred to sympathetic enthusiasm. He grasped the General's hand across the table.
"Monseer," he said, earnestly, "I don't know where this country of yours is, but I'm for it. I guess it must be a branch of the United States, though, for the poetry guys and the schoolmarms call us Columbia, too, sometimes. It's a lucky thing for you that you butted64 into me to-night. I'm the only man in New York that can get this gun deal through for you. The Secretary of War of the United States is me best friend. He's in the city now, and I'll see him for you to-morrow. In the meantime, monseer, you keep them drafts tight in your inside pocket. I'll call for you to-morrow, and take you to see him. Say! that ain't the District of Columbia you're talking about, is it?" concluded Mr. Kelley, with a sudden qualm. "You can't capture that with no 2,000 guns - it's been tried with more."
"No, no, no!" exclaimed the General. "It is the Republic of Colombia - it is a g-r-reat republic on the top side of America of the South. Yes. Yes."
"All right," said Mr. Kelley, reassured66. "Now suppose we trek67 along home and go by-by. I'll write to the Secretary to-night and make a date with him. It's a ticklish68 job to get guns out of New York. McClusky himself can't do it."
They parted at the door of the Hotel Espanol. The General rolled his eyes at the moon and sighed.
"It is a great country, your Nueva York," he said. "Truly the cars in the streets devastate69 one, and the engine that cooks the nuts terribly makes a squeak70 in the ear. But, ah, Senor Kelley - the senoras with hair of much goldness, and admirable fatness - they are magnificas! Muy magnificas!"
Kelley went to the nearest telephone booth and called up McCrary's cafe, far up on Broadway. He asked for Jimmy Dunn.
"Is that Jimmy Dunn?" asked Kelley.
"Yes," came the answer.
"You're a liar," sang back Kelley, joyfully71. "Your'e the Secretary of War. Wait there till I come up. I've got the finest thing down here in the way of a fish you ever baited for. It's a Colorado-maduro, with a gold band around it and free coupons72 enough to buy a red hall lamp and a statuette of Psyche73 rubbering in the brook74. I'll be up on the next car."
Jimmy Dunn was an A. M. of Crookdom. He was an artist in the confidence line. He never saw a bludgeon in his life; and he scorned knockout drops. In fact, he would have set nothing before an intended victim but the purest of drinks, if it had been possible to procure75 such a thing in New York. It was the ambition of "Spider" Kelley to elevate himself into Jimmy's class.
These two gentlemen held a conference that night at McCrary's. Kelley explained.
"He's as easy as a gumshoe. He's from the Island of Colombia, where there's a strike, or a feud76, or something going on, and they've sent him up here to buy 2,000 Winchesters to arbitrate the thing with. He showed me two drafts for $10,000 each, and one for $5,000 on a bank here. 'S truth, Jimmy, I felt real mad with him because he didn't have it in thousand-dollar bills, and hand it to me on a silver waiter. Now, we've got to wait till he goes to the bank and gets the money for us."
They talked it over for two hours, and then Dunn said; "Bring him to No. __ Broadway, at four o'clock to-morrow afternoon."
In due time Kelley called at the Hotel Espanol for the General. He found the wily warrior77 engaged in delectable78 conversation with Mrs. O'Brien.
"The Secretary of War is waitin' for us," said Kelley.
The General tore himself away with an effort.
"Ay, senor," he said, with a sigh, "duty makes a call. But, senor, the senoras of your Estados Unidos - how beauties! For exemplification, take you la Madame O'Brien - que magnifica! She is one goddess - one Juno - what you call one ox-eyed Juno."
Now Mr. Kelley was a wit; and better men have been shriveled by the fire of their own imagination.
"Sure!" he said with a grin; "but you mean a peroxide Juno, don't you?"
Mrs. O'Brien heard, and lifted an auriferous head. Her businesslike eye rested for an instant upon the disappearing form of Mr. Kelley. Except in street cars one should never be unnecessarily rude to a lady.
When the gallant79 Colombian and his escort arrived at the Broadway address, they were held in an anteroom for half an hour, and then admitted into a well-equipped office where a distinguished looking man, with a smooth face, wrote at a desk. General Falcon was presented to the Secretary of War of the United States, and his mission made known by his old friend, Mr. Kelley.
"Ah - Colombia!" said the Secretary, significantly, when he was made to understand; "I'm afraid there will be a little difficutly in that case. The President and I differ in our sympathies there. He prefers the established government, while I -" the secretary gave the General a mysterious but encouraging smile. "You, of course, know, General Falcon, that since the Tammany war, an act of Congress has been passed requiring all manufactured arms and ammunition16 exported from this country to pass through the War Department. Now, if I can do anything for you I will be glad to do so to oblige my old friend, Mr. Kelley. But it must be in absolute secrecy80, as the President, as I have said, does not regard favorably the efforts of your revolutionary party in Colombia. I will have my orderly bring a list of the available arms now in the warehouse81."
The Secretary struck a bell, and an orderly with the letters A. D. T. on his cap stepped promptly82 into the room.
"Bring me Schedule B of the small arms inventory," said the Secretary.
The orderly quickly returned with a printed paper. The Secretary studied it closely.
"I find," he said, "that in Warehouse 9, of Government stores, there is shipment of 2,000 stands of Winchester rifles that were ordered by the Sultan of Morocco, who forgot to send the cash with his order. Our rule is that legal-tender must be paid down at the time of purchase. My dear Kelley, your friend, General Falcon, shall have this lot of arms, if he desires it, at the manufacturer's price. And you will forgive me, I am sure, if I curtail83 our interview. I am expecting the Japanese Minister and Charles Murphy every moment!"
As one result of this interview, the General was deeply grateful to his esteemed84 friend, Mr. Kelley. As another, the nimble Secretary of War was extremely busy during the next two days buying empty rifle cases and filling them with bricks, which were then stored in a warehouse rented for that purpose. As still another, when the General returned to the Hotel Espanol, Mrs. O'Brien went up to him, plucked a thread from his lapel, and said:
"Say, senor, I don't want to 'butt65 in,' but what does that monkey-faced, cat-eyed, rubber-necked tin horn tough want with you?"
"Sangre de mi vida!" exclaimed the General. "Impossible it is that you speak of my good friend, Senor Kelley."
"Come into the summer garden," said Mrs. O'Brien. "I want to have a talk with you."
Let us suppose that an hour has elapsed.
"And you say," said the General, "that for the sum of $18,000 can be purchased the furnishment of the house and the lease of one year with this garden so lovely - so resembling unto the patios85 of my cara Colombia?"
"And dirt cheap at that," sighed the lady.
"Ah, Dios!" breathed General Falcon. "What to me is war and politics? This spot is one paradise. My country it have other brave heroes to continue the fighting. What to me should be glory and the shooting of mans? Ah! no. It is here I have found one angel. Let us buy the Hotel Espanol and you shall be mine, and the money shall not be waste on guns."
Mrs. O'Brien rested her blond pompadour against the shoulder of the Colombian patriot86.
"Oh, senor," she sighed, happily, "ain't you terrible!"
Two days later was the time appointed for the delivery of the arms to the General. The boxes of supposed rifles were stacked in the rented warehouse, and the Secretary of War sat upon them, waiting for his friend Kelley to fetch the victim.
Mr. Kelley hurried, at the hour, to the Hotel Espanol. He found the General behind the desk adding up accounts.
"I have decide," said the General, "to buy not guns. I have to-day buy the insides of this hotel, and there shall be marrying of the General Perrico Ximenes Villablanca Falcon with la Madame O'Brien."
Mr. Kelley almost strangled.
"Say, you old bald-headed bottle of shoe polish," he spluttered, "you're a swindler - that's what you are! You've bought a boarding house with money belonging to your infernal country, wherever it is."
"Ah," said the General, footing up a column, "that is what you call politics. War and revolution they are not nice. Yes. It is not best that one shall always follow Minerva. No. It is of quite desirable to keep hotels and be with that Juno - that ox-eyed Juno. Ah! what hair of the gold it is that she have!"
Mr. Kelley choked again.
"Ah, Senor Kelley!" said the General, feelingly and finally, "is it that you have never eaten of the corned beef hash that Madame O'Brien she make?"
收听单词发音 |
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veracious
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| adj.诚实可靠的 | |
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shibboleth
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| n.陈规陋习；口令；暗语 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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thespian
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| adj.戏曲的；n.演员；悲剧演员 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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caters
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| 提供饮食及服务( cater的第三人称单数 )； 满足需要，适合 | |
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volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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chili
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| n.辣椒 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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lava
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eruptions
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| n.喷发，爆发( eruption的名词复数 ) | |
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bide
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solicit
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| vi.勾引；乞求；vt.请求，乞求；招揽(生意) | |
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enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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smuggle
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| vt.私运；vi.走私 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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altruism
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| n.利他主义，不自私 | |
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subterfuges
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| n.（用说谎或欺骗以逃脱责备、困难等的）花招，遁词( subterfuge的名词复数 ) | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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bestows
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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piquancy
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| n.辛辣，辣味，痛快 | |
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hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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psychical
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| adj.有关特异功能现象的；有关特异功能官能的；灵魂的；心灵的 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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carafe
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| n.玻璃水瓶 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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Congressman
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| n.（美）国会议员 | |
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cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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unimpeachably
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| adv.无可怀疑地，可靠地；无可指责地 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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pushcart
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| n.手推车 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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misuse
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| n.误用，滥用；vt.误用，滥用 | |
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pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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fended
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| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的过去式和过去分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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resounding
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| adj. 响亮的 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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exteriorly
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| adv.从外部，表面上 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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substantiate
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| v.证实；证明...有根据 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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63
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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butted
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| 对接的 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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66
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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67
trek
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| vi.作长途艰辛的旅行；n.长途艰苦的旅行 | |
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68
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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69
devastate
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| v.使荒芜，破坏，压倒 | |
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70
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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71
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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72
coupons
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| n.礼券( coupon的名词复数 )；优惠券；订货单；参赛表 | |
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73
psyche
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| n.精神；灵魂 | |
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74
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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75
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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78
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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80
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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81
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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82
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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83
curtail
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| vt.截短，缩短；削减 | |
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84
esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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85
patios
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| n.露台，平台( patio的名词复数 ) | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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