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第12章

cressy-第12章

小说: cressy 字数: 每页4000字

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in them as a weakness that might in course of time produce

infirmity of homicidal purpose and become enervating of eye and

trigger…finger。  And when Mr。 McKinstry got himself appointed as

school…trustee; and was thereby obliged to mingle with certain

Eastern settlers;colleagues on the Board;this possible

weakening of the old sharply drawn sectional line between 〃Yanks〃

and themselves gave her grave doubts of Hiram's physical stamina。



〃The old man's worrits hev sorter shook out a little of his sand;〃

she had explained。  On those evenings when he attended the Board;

she sought higher consolation in prayer meeting at the Southern

Baptist Church; in whose exercises her Northern and Eastern

neighbors; thinly disguised as 〃Baal〃 and 〃Astaroth;〃 were

generally overthrown and their temples made desolate。



If Uncle Ben's progress was slower; it was no less satisfactory。

Without imagination and even without enthusiasm; he kept on with a

dull laborious persistency。  When the irascible impatience of

Rupert Filgee at last succumbed to the obdurate slowness of his

pupil; the master himself; touched by Uncle Ben's perspiring

forehead and perplexed eyebrows; often devoted the rest of the

afternoon to a gentle elucidation of the mysteries before him;

setting copies for his heavy hand; or even guiding it with his own;

like a child's; across the paper。  At times the appalling

uselessness of Uncle Ben's endeavors reminded him of Rupert's

taunting charge。  Was he really doing this from a genuine thirst

for knowledge?  It was inconsistent with all that Indian Spring

knew of his antecedents and his present ambitions; he was a simple

miner without scientific or technical knowledge; his already slight

acquaintance with arithmetic and the scrawl that served for his

signature were more than sufficient for his needs。  Yet it was with

this latter sign…manual that he seemed to take infinite pains。  The

master; one afternoon; thought fit to correct the apparent vanity

of this performance。



〃If you took as much care in trying to form your letters according

to copy; you'd do better。  Your signature is fair enough as it is。〃



〃But it don't look right; Mr。 Ford;〃 said Uncle Ben; eying it

distrustfully; 〃somehow it ain't all there。〃



〃Why; certainly it is。  Look; D A B N E Ynot very plain; it's

true; but there are all the letters。〃



〃That's just it; Mr。 Ford; them AIN'T all the letters that ORTER be

there。  I've allowed to write it D A B N E Y to save time and ink;

but it orter read DAUBIGNY;〃 said Uncle Ben; with painful

distinctness。



〃But that spells d'Aubigny!〃



〃It are。〃



〃Is that your name?〃



〃I reckon。〃



The master looked at Uncle Ben doubtfully。  Was this only another

form of the Dobell illusion?  〃Was your father a Frenchman?〃 he

asked finally。



Uncle Ben paused as if to recall the trifling circumstances of his

father's nationality。  〃No。〃



〃Your grandfather?〃



〃I reckon not。  At least ye couldn't prove it by me。〃



〃Was your father or grandfather a voyageur or trapper; or

Canadian?〃



〃They were from Pike County; Mizzoori。〃



The master regarded Uncle Ben still dubiously。  〃But you call

yourself Dabney。  What makes you think your real name is d'Aubigny?〃



〃That's the way it uster be writ in letters to me in the States。

Hold on。  I'll show ye。〃  He deliberately began to feel in his

pockets; finally extracting his old purse from which he produced a

crumpled envelope; and carefully smoothing it out; compared it with

his signature。



〃Thar; you see。  It's the samed'Aubigny。〃



The master hesitated。  After all; it was not impossible。  He

recalled other instances of the singular transformation of names in

the Californian emigration。  Yet he could not help saying; 〃Then

you concluded d'Aubigny was a better name than Dabney?〃



〃Do YOU think it's better?〃



〃Women might。  I dare say your wife would prefer to be called Mrs。

d'Aubigny rather than Dabney。〃



The chance shot told。  Uncle Ben suddenly flushed to his ears。



〃I didn't think o' that;〃 he said hurriedly。  〃I had another idee。

I reckoned that on the matter o' holdin' property and passin' in

money it would be better to hev your name put on the square; and to

sorter go down to bed rock for it; eh?  If I wanted to take a hand

in them lots or Ditch shares; for instanceit would be only law to

hev it made out in the name o' d'Aubigny。〃



Mr。 Ford listened with certain impatient contempt。  It was bad

enough for Uncle Ben to have exposed his weakness in inventing

fictions about his early education; but to invest himself now with

a contingency of capital for the sake of another childish vanity;

was pitiable as it was preposterous。  There was no doubt that he

had lied about his school experiences; it was barely probable that

his name was really d'Aubigny; and it was quite consistent with all

thiseven setting apart the fact that he was perfectly well known

to be only a poor minerthat he should lie again。  Like most

logical reasoners Mr。 Ford forgot that humanity might be illogical

and inconsistent without being insincere。  He turned away without

speaking as if indicating a wish to hear no more。



〃Some o' these days;〃 said Uncle Ben; with dull persistency; 〃I'll

tell ye suthen'。〃



〃I'd advise you just now to drop it and stick to your lessons;〃

said the master sharply。



〃That's so;〃 said Uncle Ben hurriedly; hiding himself as it were in

an all…encompassing blush。  〃In course lessons first; boys; that's

the motto。〃  He again took up his pen and assumed his old laborious

attitude。  But after a few moments it became evident that either

the master's curt dismissal of his subject or his own preoccupation

with it; had somewhat unsettled him。  He cleaned his pen

obtrusively; going to the window for a better light; and whistling

from time to time with a demonstrative carelessness and a

depressing gayety。  He once broke into a murmuring; meditative

chant evidently referring to the previous conversation; in its

〃That's soYer we goLessons the first; boys; Yo; heave O。〃  The

rollicking marine character of this refrain; despite its utter

incongruousness; apparently struck him favorably; for he repeated

it softly; occasionally glancing behind him at the master who was

coldly absorbed at his desk。  Presently he arose; carefully put his

books away; symmetrically piling them in a pyramid beside Mr。

Ford's motionless elbow; and then lifting his feet with high but

gentle steps went to the peg where his coat and hat were hanging。

As he was about to put them on he appeared suddenly struck with a

sense of indecorousness in dressing himself in the school; and

taking them on his arm to the porch resumed them outside。  Then

saying; 〃I clean disremembered I'd got to see a man。  So long; till

to…morrow;〃 he disappeared whistling softly。



The old woodland hush fell back upon the school。  It seemed very

quiet and empty。  A faint sense of remorse stole over the master。

Yet he remembered that Uncle Ben had accepted without reproach and

as a good joke much more direct accusations from Rupert Filgee; and

that he himself had acted from a conscientious sense of duty

towards the man。  But a conscientious sense of duty to inflict pain

upon a fellow…mortal for his own good does not always bring perfect

serenity to the inflicterpossibly because; in the defective

machinery of human compensation; pain is the only quality that is

apt to appear in the illustration。  Mr。 Ford felt uncomfortable;

and being so; was naturally vexed at the innocent cause。  Why

should Uncle Ben be offended because he had simply declined to

follow his weak fabrications any further?  This was his return for

having tolerated it at first!  It would be a lesson to him

henceforth。  Nevertheless he got up and went to the door。  The

figure of Uncle Ben was already indistinct among the leaves; but

from the motion of his should

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