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第10章

stage-land[1].(舞台)-第10章

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girl and her young man; and they always come into the drawing…room to 

do it。    They have got the kitchen; and there is the garden (with a fountain 

and mountains in the backgroundyou can see it through the window); but 

no! no place in or about the house is good enough for them to quarrel in 

except the drawing…room。            They quarrel there so vigorously that it even 

interferes with the dusting of the chair…legs。 

     She ought not to be long in saving up sufficient to marry on; for the 

generosity of people on the stage to the servants there makes one seriously 

consider   the   advisability   of   ignoring   the   unremunerative   professions   of 

ordinary   life   and   starting   a   new   and   more   promising   career   as   a   stage 

servant。 

     No   one   ever   dreams   of   tipping   the   stage   servant   with   less   than   a 

sovereign when they ask her if her mistress is at home or give her a letter 

to post; and there is quite a rush at the end of the piece to stuff five…pound 

notes into her hand。       The good old man gives her ten。 

     The stage servant is very impudent to her mistress; and the masterhe 

falls in love with her and it does upset the house so。 



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                                        STAGE…LAND。 



     Sometimes the servant…girl is good and faithful; and then she is Irish。 

All good servant…girls on the stage are Irish。 

     All the male visitors are expected to kiss the stage servant…girl when 

they come into the house; and to dig her in the ribs and to say:               〃Do you 

know; Jane; I think you're an uncommonly nice girlclick。〃               They always 

say this; and she likes it。 

     Many  years   ago;  when  we  were  young;  we  thought   we  would   see  if 

things were the same off the stage; and the next time we called at a certain 

friend's house we tried this business on。 

     She wasn't quite so dazzlingly beautiful as they are on the stage; but 

we passed that。       She showed us up into the drawing…room; and then said 

she would go and tell her mistress we were there。 

     We felt this was the time to begin。          We skipped between her and the 

door。    We held our hat in front of us; cocked our head on one side; and 

said:    〃Don't go! don't go!〃 

     The girl seemed alarmed。         We began to get a little nervous ourselves; 

but we had begun it and we meant to go through with it。 

     We said; 〃Do you know; Jane〃 (her name wasn't Jane; but that wasn't 

our fault); 〃do you know; Jane; I think you're an uncommonly nice girl;〃 

and   we   said   〃click;〃   and   dug   her   in   the   ribs   with   our   elbow;   and   then 

chucked her under the chin。          The whole thing seemed to fall flat。          There 

was nobody there to laugh or applaud。            We wished we hadn't done it。           It 

seemed stupid when you came to think of it。             We began to feel frightened。 

The business wasn't going as we expected; but we screwed up our courage 

and went on。 

     We put on the customary expression of comic imbecility and beckoned 

the girl to us。    We have never seen this fail on the stage。 

     But   this  girl  seemed     made    wrong。    She    got   behind   the   sofa  and 

screamed 〃Help!〃 

     We have never known them to do this on the stage; and it threw us out 

in our plans。     We did not know exactly what to do。            We regretted that we 

had   ever   begun   this   job   and   heartily   wished   ourselves   out   of   it。   But   it 

appeared foolish to pause then; when we were more than half…way through; 

and we made a rush to get it over。 



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                                        STAGE…LAND。 



     We chivvied the girl round the sofa and caught her near the door and 

kissed her。     She scratched   our face;  yelled police; murder;  and fire;  and 

fled from the room。 

     Our friend came in almost immediately。            He said: 

     〃I say; J。; old man; are you drunk?〃 

     We told him no; that we were only a student of the drama。                 His wife 

then entered in a towering passion。           She didn't ask us if we were drunk。 

She said: 

     〃How dare you come here in this state!〃 

     We endeavored unsuccessfully to induce her to believe that we were 

sober; and we explained that our course of conduct was what was always 

pursued on the stage。 

     She said she didn't care what was done on the stage; it wasn't going to 

be pursued in her house; and that if her husband's friends couldn't behave 

as gentlemen they had better stop away。 

     The following morning we received a letter from a firm of solicitors in 

Lincoln's Inn with reference; so they put it; to the brutal and unprovoked 

assault committed by us on the previous afternoon upon the person of their 

client; Miss Matilda Hemmings。             The letter stated that we had punched 

Miss   Hemmings   in   the   side;   struck   her   under   the   chin;   and   afterward; 

seizing   her   as   she   was   leaving   the   room;   proceeded   to   commit   a   gross 

assault; into the particulars of which it was needless for them to enter at 

greater length。 

     It added that if we were prepared to render an ample written apology 

and to pay 50 pounds compensation; they would advise their client; Miss 

Matilda     Hemmings;       to  allow   the   matter   to  drop;   otherwise     criminal 

proceedings would at once be commenced against us。 

     We     took    the   letter  to   our   own     solicitors   and    explained     the 

circumstances to them。          They said it seemed to be a very sad case; but 

advised us to pay the 50 pounds; and we borrowed the money and did so。 

     Since   then   we   have   lost   faith;   somehow;   in   the   British   drama   as   a 

guide to the conduct of life。 



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                                         STAGE…LAND。 



                                THE CHILD。 



     It is nice and quiet and it talks prettily。 

     We have come across real infants now and then in the course of visits 

to married friends; they have been brought to us from outlying parts of the 

house and introduced to us for our edification; and we have found them 

gritty and sticky。       Their boots have usually been muddy; and they have 

wiped them up against our new trousers。              And their hair has suggested the 

idea that they have been standing on their heads in the dust…bin。 

     And they have talked to usbut not prettily; not at allrather rude we 

should call it。 

     But the stage child is very different。           It is clean and tidy。       You can 

touch it anywhere and nothing comes off。                Its face glows with soap and 

water。     From the appearance of its hands it is evident that mud…pies and 

tar are joys   unknown to it。         As for  its hair; there  is something   uncanny 

about its smoothness and respectability。            Even its boot…laces are done up。 

     We   have   never   seen   anything   like   the   stage   child   outside   a   theater 

excepting   onethat   was   on   the   pavement   in   front   of   a   tailor's   shop   in 

Tottenham   Court   Road。        He   stood   on   a   bit   of   round   wood;   and   it   was 

fifteen and nine; his style。 

     We   thought   in    our   ignorance   prior   to   this   that   there   could   not   be 

anything in the world like the stage child; but you see we were mistaken。 

     The    stage   child   is  affectionate    to  its  parents   and   its  nurse   and   is 

respectful in   its   demeanor toward those whom  Providence   has placed in 

authority over it; and so far it is certainly much to be preferred to the real 

article。    It speaks of its male and

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