Matilda was a little late in starting school. Most children begin Primary School at five or even just
before, but Matilda's parents, who weren't very concerned one way or the other about their
daughter's education, had forgotten to make the proper arrangements in advance. She was five and
a half when she entered school for the first time.
The village school for younger children was a bleak1 brick building called Crunchem Hall Primary
School. It had about two hundred and fifty pupils aged2 from five to just under twelve years old.
The head teacher, the boss, the supreme3 commander of this establishment was a formidable
middle-aged4 lady whose name was Miss Trunchbull.
Naturally Matilda was put in the bottom class, where there were eighteen other small boys and
girls about the same age as her. Their teacher was called Miss Honey, and she could not have been
more than twenty-three or twenty-four. She had a lovely pale oval madonna face with blue eyes
and her hair was light-brown. Her body was so slim and fragile one got the feeling that if she fell
over she would smash into a thousand pieces, like a porcelain5 figure.
Miss Jennifer Honey was a mild and quiet person who never raised her voice and was seldom seen
to smile, but there is no doubt she possessed6 that rare gift for being adored by every small child
under her care. She seemed to understand totally the bewilderment and fear that so often
overwhelms young children who for the first time in their lives are herded7 into a classroom and
told to obey orders. Some curious warmth that was almost tangible8 shone out of Miss Honey's face
when she spoke9 to a confused and homesick newcomer to the class.
Miss Trunchbull, the Headmistress, was something else altogether. She was a gigantic holy terror,
a fierce tyrannical monster who frightened the life out of the pupils and teachers alike. There was
an aura of menace about her even at a distance, and when she came up close you could almost feel
the dangerous heat radiating from her as from a red-hot rod of metal. When she marched -- Miss
Trunchbull never walked, she always marched like a storm-trooper with long strides and arms
aswinging -- when she marched along a corridor you could actually hear her snorting as she went,
and if a group of children happened to be in her path, she ploughed right on through them like a
tank, with small people bouncing off her to left and right. Thank goodness we don't meet many
people like her in this world, although they do exist and all of us are likely to come across at least
one of them in a lifetime. If you ever do, you should behave as you would if you met an enraged10
rhinoceros11 out in the bush -- climb up the nearest tree and stay there until it has gone away. This
woman, in all her eccentricities12 and in her appearance, is almost im-
possible to describe, but I shall make some attempt to do so a little later on. Let us leave her for
the moment and go back to Matilda and her first day in Miss Honey's class.
After the usual business of going through all the names of the children, Miss Honey handed out a
brand-new exercise-book to each pupil.
"You have all brought your own pencils, I hope," she said.
"Yes, Miss Honey," they chanted.
"Good. Now this is the very first day of school for each one of you. It is the beginning of at least
eleven long years of schooling13 that all of you are going to have to go through. And six of those
years will be spent right here at Crunchem Hall where, as you know, your Headmistress is Miss
Trunchbull. Let me for your own good tell you something about Miss Trunchbull. She insists upon
strict discipline throughout the school, and if you take my advice you will do your very best to
behave yourselves in her presence. Never argue with her. Never answer her back. Always do as
she says. If you get on the wrong side of Miss Trunchbull she can liquidise you like a carrot in a
kitchen blender. It's nothing to laugh about, Lavender. Take that grin off your face. All of you will
be wise to remember that Miss Trunchbull deals very very severely14 with anyone who gets out of
line in this school. Have you got the message?"
"Yes, Miss Honey," chirruped eighteen eager little voices.
"I myself", Miss Honey went on, "want to help you to learn as much as possible while you are in
this class. That is because I know it will make things easier for you later on. For example, by the
end of this week I shall expect every one of you to know the two-times table by heart. And in a
year's time I hope you will know all the multiplication15 tables up to twelve. It will help you
enormously if you do. Now then, do any of you happen to have learnt the two-times table
already?"
Matilda put up her hand. She was the only one.
Miss Honey looked carefully at the tiny girl with dark hair and a round serious face sitting in the
second row. "Wonderful," she said. "Please stand up and recite as much of it as you can."
Matilda stood up and began to say the two-times table. When she got to twice twelve is twenty-
four she didn't stop. She went right on with twice thirteen is twenty-six, twice fourteen is twenty-
eight, twice fifteen is thirty, twice sixteen is . . ."
"Stop!" Miss Honey said. She had been listening slightly spellbound to this smooth recital16, and
now she said, "How far can you go?"
"How far?" Matilda said. "Well, I don't really
know, Miss Honey. For quite a long way, I think."
Miss Honey took a few moments to let this curious statement sink in. "You mean", she said, "that
you could tell me what two times twenty-eight is?"
"Yes, Miss Honey."
"What is it?"
"Fifty-six, Miss Honey."
"What about something much harder, like two times four hundred and eighty-seven? Could you
tell me that?"
"I think so, yes," Matilda said.
"Are you sure?"
"Why yes, Miss Honey, I'm fairly sure."
"What is it then, two times four hundred and eighty-seven?"
"Nine hundred and seventy-four," Matilda said immediately. She spoke quietly and politely and
without any sign of showing off.
Miss Honey gazed at Matilda with absolute amazement17, but when next she spoke she kept her
voice level. "That is really splendid," she said. "But of course multiplying by two is a lot easier
than some of the bigger numbers. What about the other multiplication tables? Do you know any of
those?"
"I think so, Miss Honey. I think I do."
"Which ones, Matilda? How far have you got?"
"I . . . I don't quite know," Matilda said. "I don't know what you mean."
"What I mean is do you for instance know the three-times table?"
"Yes, Miss Honey."
"And the four-times?"
"Yes, Miss Honey."
"Well, how many do you know, Matilda? Do you know all the way up to the twelve-times table?"
"Yes, Miss Honey."
"What are twelve sevens?"
"Eighty-four," Matilda said.
Miss Honey paused and leaned back in her chair behind the plain table that stood in the middle of
the floor in front of the class. She was considerably18 shaken by this exchange but took care not to
show it. She had never come across a five-year-old before, or indeed a ten-year-old, who could
multiply with such facility.
"I hope the rest of you are listening to this," she said to the class. "Matilda is a very lucky girl. She
has wonderful parents who have already taught her to multiply lots of numbers. Was it your
mother, Matilda, who taught you?"
"No, Miss Honey, it wasn't."
"You must have a great father then. He must be a brilliant teacher."
"No, Miss Honey," Matilda said quietly. "My father did not teach me."
"You mean you taught yourself?"
"I don't quite know," Matilda said truthfully. "It's just that I don't find it very difficult to multiply
one number by another."
Miss Honey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked again at the small girl with bright
eyes standing19 beside her desk so sensible and solemn. "You say you don't find it difficult to
multiply one number by another," Miss Honey said. "Could you try to explain that a little bit."
"Oh dear," Matilda said. "I'm not really sure."
Miss Honey waited. The class was silent, all listening.
"For instance," Miss Honey said, "if I asked you to multiply fourteen by nineteen . . . No, that's too
difficult . . ."
"It's two hundred and sixty-six," Matilda said softly.
Miss Honey stared at her. Then she picked up a pencil and quickly worked out the sum on a piece
of paper. "What did you say it was?" she said, looking up.
"Two hundred and sixty-six," Matilda said.
Miss Honey put down her pencil and removed her spectacles and began to polish the lenses with a
piece of tissue. The class remained quiet, watching her and waiting for what was coming next.
Matilda was still standing up beside her desk.
"Now tell me, Matilda," Miss Honey said, still polishing, "try to tell me exactly what goes on
inside your head when you get a multiplication like that to do. You obviously have to work it out
in some way, but you seem able to arrive at the answer almost instantly. Take the one you've just
done, fourteen multiplied by nineteen."
"I . . . I . . . I simply put the fourteen down in my head and multiply it by nineteen," Matilda said.
"I'm afraid I don't know how else to explain it. I've always said to myself that if a little pocket
calculator can do it why shouldn't I?"
"Why not indeed," Miss Honey said. "The human brain is an amazing thing."
"I think it's a lot better than a lump of metal," Matilda said. "That's all a calculator is."
"How right you are," Miss Honey said. "Pocket calculators are not allowed in this school anyway."
Miss Honey was feeling quite quivery. There was no doubt in her mind that she had met a truly
extraordinary mathematical brain, and words like child-genius and prodigy20 went flitting through
her head. She knew that these sort of wonders do pop up in the world from time to time, but only
once or twice in a hundred years. After all, Mozart was only five when he started composing for
the piano and look what happened to him.
"It's not fair," Lavender said. "How can she do it and we can't?"
"Don't worry, Lavender, you'll soon catch up," Miss Honey said, lying through her teeth.
At this point Miss Honey could not resist the temptation of exploring still further the mind of this
astonishing child. She knew that she ought to be paying some attention to the rest of the class but
she was altogether too excited to let the matter rest.
"Well," she said, pretending to address the whole class, "let us leave sums for the moment and see
if any of you have begun to learn to spell. Hands up anyone who can spell cat."
Three hands went up. They belonged to Lavender, a small boy called Nigel and to Matilda.
"Spell cat, Nigel."
Nigel spelled it.
Miss Honey now decided21 to ask a question that normally she would not have dreamed of asking
the class on its first day. "I wonder", she said, "whether any of you three who know how to spell
cat have learned how to read a whole group of words when they are strung together in a
sentence?"
"I have," Nigel said.
"So have I," Lavender said.
Miss Honey went to the blackboard and wrote with her white chalk the sentence, I have already
begun to learn how to read long sentences. She had purposely made it difficult and she knew that
there were precious few five-year-olds around who would be able to manage it.
"Can you tell me what that says, Nigel?" she asked.
"That's too hard," Nigel said.
"Lavender?"
"The first word is I," Lavender said.
"Can any of you read the whole sentence?" Miss Honey asked, waiting for the "yes" that she felt
certain was going to come from Matilda.
"Yes," Matilda said.
"Go ahead," Miss Honey said.
Matilda read the sentence without any hesitation22 at all.
"That really is very good indeed," Miss Honey said, making the understatement of her life. "How
much can you read, Matilda?"
"I think I can read most things, Miss Honey," Matilda said, "although I'm afraid I can't always
understand the meanings."
Miss Honey got to her feet and walked smartly out of the room, but was back in thirty seconds
carrying a thick book. She opened it at random23 and placed it on Matilda's desk. "This is a book of
humorous poetry," she said. "See if you can read that one aloud."
Smoothly24, without a pause and at a nice speed, Matilda began to read:
"An epicure25 dining at Crewe
Found a rather large mouse in his stew26.
Cried the waiter, "Don't shout
And wave it about
Or the rest will be wanting one too."
Several children saw the funny side of the rhyme
and laughed. Miss Honey said, "Do you know what an epicure is, Matilda?"
"It is someone who is dainty with his eating," Matilda said.
"That is correct," Miss Honey said. "And do you happen to know what that particular type of
poetry is called?"
"It's called a limerick," Matilda said. "That's a lovely one. It's so funny."
"It's a famous one," Miss Honey said, picking up the book and returning to her table in front of the
class. "A witty27 limerick is very hard to write," she added. "They look easy but they most certainly
are not."
"I know," Matilda said. "I've tried quite a few times but mine are never any good."
"You have, have you?" Miss Honey said, more startled than ever. "Well Matilda, I would very
much like to hear one of these limericks you say you have written. Could you try to remember one
for us?"
"Well," Matilda said, hesitating. "I've actually been trying to make up one about you, Miss Honey,
while we've been sitting here."
"About me!" Miss Honey cried. "Well, we've certainly got to hear that one, haven't we?"
"I don't think I want to say it, Miss Honey."
"Please tell it," Miss Honey said. "I promise I won't mind."
"I think you will, Miss Honey, because I have to use your first name to make things rhyme and
that's why I don't want to say it."
"How do you know my first name?" Miss Honey asked.
"I heard another teacher calling you by it just before we came in," Matilda said. "She called you
Jenny."
"I insist upon hearing this limerick," Miss Honey said, smiling one of her rare smiles. "Stand up
and recite it."
Reluctantly Matilda stood up and very slowly, very nervously28, she recited her limerick:
"The thing we all ask about Jenny
Is, 'Surely there cannot be many
Young girls in the place
With so lovely a face?'
The answer to that is, 'Not any!' "
The whole of Miss Honey's pale and pleasant face blushed a brilliant scarlet29. Then once again she
smiled. It was a much broader one this time, a smile of pure pleasure.
"Why, thank you, Matilda," she said, still smiling. "Although it is
not true, it is really a very good limerick. Oh dear, oh dear, I must try to remember that one."
From the third row of desks, Lavender said, "It's good. I like it."
"It's true as well," a small boy called Rupert said.
"Of course it's true," Nigel said.
Already the whole class had begun to warm towards Miss Honey, although as yet she had hardly
taken any notice of any of them except Matilda.
"Who taught you to read, Matilda?" Miss Honey asked.
"I just sort of taught myself, Miss Honey."
"And have you read any books all by yourself, any children's books, I mean?"
"I've read all the ones that are in the public library in the High Street, Miss Honey."
"And did you like them?"
"I liked some of them very much indeed," Matilda said, "but I thought others were fairly dull."
"Tell me one that you liked."
"I liked The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," Matilda said. "I think Mr C. S. Lewis is a very
good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books."
"You are right there," Miss Honey said.
"There aren't many funny bits in Mr Tolkien either," Matilda said.
"Do you think that all children's books ought to have funny bits in them?" Miss Honey asked.
"I do," Matilda said. "Children are not so serious as grown-ups and they love to laugh."
Miss Honey was astounded30 by the wisdom of this tiny girl. She said, "And what are you going to
do now that you've read all the children's books?"
"I am reading other books," Matilda said. "I borrow them from the library. Mrs Phelps is very kind
to me. She helps me to choose them."
Miss Honey was leaning far forward over her work-table and gazing in wonder at the child. She
had completely forgotten now about the rest of the class. "What other books?" she murmured.
"I am very fond of Charles Dickens," Matilda said. "He makes me laugh a lot. Especially Mr
Pickwick."
At that moment the bell in the corridor sounded for the end of class.
点击
收听单词发音
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1
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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3
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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5
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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6
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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7
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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8
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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9
spoke
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| 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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10
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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11
rhinoceros
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| n.犀牛 | |
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12
eccentricities
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| n.古怪行为( eccentricity的名词复数 )；反常；怪癖 | |
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13
schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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14
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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15
multiplication
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| n.增加，增多，倍增；增殖，繁殖；乘法 | |
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16
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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17
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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18
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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19
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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prodigy
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| n.惊人的事物，奇迹，神童，天才，预兆 | |
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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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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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23
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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epicure
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| n.行家，美食家 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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28
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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29
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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