the story of a bad boy(顽童故事)-第22章
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annoyance of Miss Abigail; who was constantly fancying that one of the
mice had secreted itself somewhere about her person。
I also owned a dog; a terrier; who managed in some inscrutable way to
pick a quarrel with the moon; and on bright nights kept up such a ki…yi…ing
in our back garden; that we were finally forced to dispose of him at private
sale。 He was purchased by Mr。 Oxford; the butcher。 I protested against the
arrangement and ever afterwards; when we had sausages from Mr。 Oxford…
s shop; I made believe I detected in them certain evidences that Cato had
been foully dealt with。
Of birds I had no end…robins; purple…martins; wrens; bulfinches;
bobolinks; ringdoves; and pigeons。 At one time I took solid comfort in the
iniquitous society of a dissipated old parrot; who talked so terribly; that the
Rev。 Wibird Hawkins; happening to get a sample of Poll's vituperative
powers; pronounced him 〃a benighted heathen;〃 and advised the Captain
to get rid of him。 A brace of turtles supplanted the parrot in my affections;
the turtles gave way to rabbits; and the rabbits in turn yielded to the
superior charms of a small monkey; which the Captain bought of a sailor
lately from the coast of Africa。
But Gypsy was the prime favorite; in spite of many rivals。 I never
grew weary of her。 She was the most knowing little thing in the world。 Her
proper sphere in life…and the one to which she ultimately attained…was the
saw…dust arena of a travelling circus。 There was nothing short of the three
R's; reading; 'riting; and 'rithmetic; that Gypsy couldn't be taught。 The gift
of speech was not hers; but the faculty of thought was。
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My little friend; to be sure; was not exempt from certain graceful
weaknesses; inseparable; perhaps; from the female character。 She was very
pretty; and she knew it。 She was also passionately fond of dress…by which I
mean her best harness。 When she had this on; her curvetings and prancings
were laughable; though in ordinary tackle she went along demurely
enough。 There was something in the enamelled leather and the silver…
washed mountings that chimed with her artistic sense。 To have her mane
braided; and a rose or a pansy stuck into her forelock; was to make her too
conceited for anything。
She had another trait not rare among her sex。 She liked the attentions
of young gentlemen; while the society of girls bored her。 She would drag
them; sulkily; in the cart; but as for permitting one of them in the saddle;
the idea was preposterous。 Once when Pepper Whitcomb's sister; in spite
of our remonstrances; ventured to mount her; Gypsy gave a little indignant
neigh; and tossed the gentle Emma heels over head in no time。 But with
any of the boys the mare was as docile as a lamb。
Her treatment of the several members of the family was comical。 For
the Captain she entertained a wholesome respect; and was always on her
good behavior when he was around。 As to Miss Abigail; Gypsy simply
laughed at her…literally laughed; contracting her upper lip and displaying
all her snow…white teeth; as if something about Miss Abigail struck her;
Gypsy; as being extremely ridiculous。
Kitty Collins; for some reason or another; was afraid of the pony; or
pretended to be。 The sagacious little animal knew it; of course; and
frequently; when Kitty was banging out clothes near the stable; the mare
being loose in the yard; would make short plunges at her。 Once Gypsy
seized the basket of clothespins with her teeth; and rising on her hind legs;
pawing the air with her fore feet followed Kitty clear up to the scullery
steps。
That part of the yard was shut off from the rest by a gate; but no gate
was proof against Gypsy's ingenuity。 She could let down bars; lift up
latches; draw bolts; and turn all sorts of buttons。 This accomplishment
rendered it hazardous for Miss Abigail or Kitty to leave any eatables on
the kitchen table near the window。 On one occasion Gypsy put in her head
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and lapped up six custard pies that had been placed by the casement to
cool。
An account of my young lady's various pranks would fill a thick
volume。 A favorite trick of hers; on being requested to 〃walk like Miss
Abigail;〃 was to assume a little skittish gait so true to nature that Miss
Abigail herself was obliged to admit the cleverness of the imitation。
The idea of putting Gypsy through a systematic course of instruction
was suggested to me by a visit to the circus which gave an annual
performance in Rivermouth。 This show embraced among its attractions a
number of trained Shetland ponies; and I determined that Gypsy should
likewise have the benefit of a liberal education。 I succeeded in teaching
her to waltz; to fire a pistol by tugging at a string tied to the trigger; to lie
down dead; to wink one eye; and to execute many other feats of a difficult
nature。 She took to her studies admirably; and enjoyed the whole thing as
much as anyone。
The monkey was a perpetual marvel to Gypsy。 They became bosom…
friends in an incredibly brief period; and were never easy out of each
other's sight。 Prince Zany…that's what Pepper Whitcomb and I christened
him one day; much to the disgust of the monkey; who bit a piece out of
Pepper's nose…resided in the stable; and went to roost every night on the
pony's back; where I usually found him in the morning。 Whenever I rode
out; I was obliged to secure his Highness the Prince with a stout cord to
the fence; he chattering all the time like a madman。
One afternoon as I was cantering through the crowded part of the town;
I noticed that the people in the street stopped; stared at me; and fell to
laughing。 I turned round in the saddle; and there was Zany; with a great
burdock leaf in his paw; perched up behind me on the crupper; as solemn
as a judge。
After a few months; poor Zany sickened mysteriously; and died。 The
dark thought occurred to me then; and comes back to me now with
redoubled force; that Miss Abigail must have given him some hot…drops。
Zany left a large circle of sorrowing friends; if not relatives。 Gypsy; I think;
never entirely recovered from the shock occasioned by his early demise。
She became fonder of me; though; and one of her cunningest
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demonstrations was to escape from the stable…yard; and trot up to the door
of the Temple Grammar School; where I would discover her at recess
patiently waiting for me; with her fore feet on the second step; and wisps
of straw standing out all over her; like quills upon the fretful porcupine。
I should fail if I tried to tell you how dear the pony was to me。 Even
hard; unloving men become attached to the horses they take care of; so I;
who was neither unloving nor hard; grew to love every glossy hair of the
pretty little creature that depended on me for her soft straw bed and her
daily modicum of oats。 In my prayer at night I never forgot