crome yellow(克罗姆·耶娄)-第7章
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highway to divinity。 And to think that I'm only just beginning to see
through the silliness of the whole thing！ It's incredible to me that anyone
should have escaped these horrors。〃
〃It's still more incredible to me；〃 said Anne； 〃that anyone should have
been a victim to them。 I should like to see myself believing that men are
the highway to divinity。〃 The amused malice of her smile planted two
little folds on either side of her mouth； and through their half…closed lids
her eyes shone with laughter。 〃What you need； Denis； is a nice plump
young wife； a fixed income； and a little congenial but regular work。〃
〃What I need is you。〃 That was what he ought to have retorted； that
was what he wanted passionately to say。 He could not say it。 His desire
fought against his shyness。 〃What I need is you。〃 Mentally he shouted
the words； but not a sound issued from his lips。 He looked at her
despairingly。 Couldn't she see what was going on inside him？ Couldn't
she understand？ 〃What I need is you。〃 He would say it； he wouldhe
would。
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〃I think I shall go and bathe；〃 said Anne。 〃It's so hot。〃 The
opportunity had passed。
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CHAPTER V。
Mr。 Wimbush had taken them to see the sights of the Home Farm； and
now they were standing； all six of themHenry Wimbush； Mr。 Scogan；
Denis； Gombauld； Anne； and Maryby the low wall of the piggery；
looking into one of the styes。
〃This is a good sow；〃 said Henry Wimbush。 〃She had a litter of
fourteen。
〃Fourteen？〃 Mary echoed incredulously。 She turned astonished blue
eyes towards Mr。 Wimbush； then let them fall onto the seething mass of
elan vital that fermented in the sty。
An immense sow reposed on her side in the middle of the pen。 Her
round； black belly； fringed with a double line of dugs； presented itself to
the assault of an army of small； brownish…black swine。 With a frantic
greed they tugged at their mother's flank。 The old sow stirred sometimes
uneasily or uttered a little grunt of pain。 One small pig； the runt； the
weakling of the litter； had been unable to secure a place at the banquet。
Squealing shrilly； he ran backwards and forwards； trying to push in among
his stronger brothers or even to climb over their tight little black backs
towards the maternal reservoir。
〃There ARE fourteen；〃 said Mary。 〃You're quite right。 I counted。
It's extraordinary。〃 〃The sow next door；〃 Mr。 Wimbush went on； 〃has
done very badly。 She only had five in her litter。 I shall give her another
chance。 If she does no better next time； I shall fat her up and kill her。
There's the boar；〃 he pointed towards a farther sty。 〃Fine old beast； isn't he？
But he's getting past his prime。 He'll have to go too。〃
〃How cruel！〃 Anne exclaimed。
〃But how practical； how eminently realistic！〃 said Mr。 Scogan。 〃In this
farm we have a model of sound paternal government。 Make them breed；
make them work； and when they're past working or breeding or begetting；
slaughter them。〃
〃Farming seems to be mostly indecency and cruelty；〃 said Anne。
With the ferrule of his walking…stick Denis began to scratch the boar's
long bristly back。 The animal moved a little so as to bring himself within
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easier range of the instrument that evoked in him such delicious sensations；
then he stood stock still； softly grunting his contentment。 The mud of
years flaked off his sides in a grey powdery scurf。
〃What a pleasure it is；〃 said Denis； 〃to do somebody a kindness。 I
believe I enjoy scratching this pig quite as much as he enjoys being
scratched。 If only one could always be kind with so little expense or
trouble。。。〃
A gate slammed； there was a sound of heavy footsteps。
〃Morning； Rowley！〃 said Henry Wimbush。
〃Morning； sir；〃 old Rowley answered。 He was the most venerable of
the labourers on the farma tall； solid man； still unbent； with grey side…
whiskers and a steep； dignified profile。 Grave； weighty in his manner；
splendidly respectable； Rowley had the air of a great English statesman of
the mid…nineteenth century。 He halted on the outskirts of the group； and
for a moment they all looked at the pigs in a silence that was only broken
by the sound of grunting or the squelch of a sharp hoof in the mire。
Rowley turned at last； slowly and ponderously and nobly； as he did
everything； and addressed himself to Henry Wimbush。
〃Look at them； sir；〃 he said； with a motion of his hand towards the
wallowing swine。 〃Rightly is they called pigs。〃
〃Rightly indeed；〃 Mr。 Wimbush agreed。
〃I am abashed by that man；〃 said Mr。 Scogan； as old Rowley plodded
off slowly and with dignity。 〃What wisdom； what judgment； what a
sense of values！ 'Rightly are they called swine。' Yes。 And I wish I
could； with as much justice； say； 'Rightly are we called men。'〃
They walked on towards the cowsheds and the stables of the cart…
horses。 Five white geese； taking the air this fine morning； even as they
were doing； met them in the way。 They hesitated； cackled； then；
converting their lifted necks into rigid； horizontal snakes； they rushed off
in disorder； hissing horribly as they went。 Red calves paddled in the
dung and mud of a spacious yard。 In another enclosure stood the bull；
massive as a locomotive。 He was a very calm bull； and his face wore an
expression of melancholy stupidity。 He gazed with reddish…brown eyes
at his visitors； chewed thoughtfully at the tangible memories of an earlier
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meal； swallowed and regurgitated； chewed again。 His tail lashed
savagely from side to side； it seemed to have nothing to do with his
impassive bulk。 Between his short horns was a triangle of red curls；
short and dense。
〃Splendid animal；〃 said Henry Wimbush。 〃Pedigree stock。 But he's
getting a little old； like the boar。〃
〃Fat him up and slaughter him；〃 Mr。 Scogan pronounced； with a
delicate old…maidish precision of utterance。
〃Couldn't you give the animals a little holiday from producing
children？〃 asked Anne。 〃I'm so sorry for the poor things。〃
Mr。 Wimbush shook his head。 〃Personally；〃 he said； 〃I rather like
seeing fourteen pigs grow where only one grew before。 The spectacle of
so much crude life is refreshing。〃
〃I'm glad to hear you say so；〃 Gomba
