the story of a bad boy(顽童故事)-第7章
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museum of curiosities is the garret of a well…regulated New England house
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of fifty or sixty years' standing。 Here meet together； as if by some
preconcerted arrangement； all the broken…down chairs of the household；
all the spavined tables； all the seedy hats； all the intoxicated…looking boots；
all the split walking…sticks that have retired from business； 〃weary with the
march of life。〃 The pots； the pans； the trunks； the bottles…who may hope to
make an inventory of the numberless odds and ends collected in this
bewildering lumber…room？ But what a place it is to sit of an afternoon
with the rain pattering on the roof！ 20What a place in which to read
Gulliver's Travels； or the famous adventures of Rinaldo Rinaldini！
My grandfather's house stood a little back from the main street； in the
shadow of two handsome elms； whose overgrown boughs would dash
themselves against the gables whenever the wind blew hard。 In the rear
was a pleasant garden； covering perhaps a quarter of an acre； full of plum…
trees and gooseberry bushes。 These trees were old settlers； and are all dead
now； excepting one； which bears a purple plum as big as an egg。 This tree；
as I remark； is still standing； and a more beautiful tree to tumble out of
never grew anywhere。 In the northwestern comer of the garden were the
stables and carriage…house opening upon a narrow lane。 You may imagine
that I made an early visit to that locality to inspect Gypsy。 Indeed； I paid
her a visit every half…hour during the first day of my arrival。 At the twenty…
fourth visit she trod on my foot rather heavily； as a reminder； probably；
that I was wearing out my welcome。 She was a knowing little pony； that
Gypsy； and I shall have much to say of her in the course of these pages。
Gypsy's quarters were all that could be wished； but nothing among my
new surroundings gave me more satisfaction than the cosey sleeping
apartment that had been prepared for myself。 It was the hall room over the
front door。
I had never had a chamber all to myself before； and this one； about
twice the size of our state…room on board the Typhoon； was a marvel of
neatness and comfort。 Pretty chintz curtains hung at the window； and a
patch quilt of more colors than were in Joseph's coat covered the little
truckle…bed。 The pattern of the wall…paper left nothing to be desired in that
line。 On a gray background were small bunches of leaves； unlike any that
ever grew in this world； and on every other bunch perched a yellow…bird；
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pitted with crimson spots； as if it had just recovered from a severe attack
of the small…pox。 That no such bird ever existed did not detract from my
admiration of each one。 There were two hundred and sixty…eight of these
birds in all； not counting those split in two where the paper was badly
joined。 I counted them once when I was laid up with a fine black eye； and
falling asleep immediately dreamed that the whole flock suddenly took
wing and flew out of the window。 From that time I was never able to
regard them as merely inanimate objects。
A wash…stand in the corner； a chest of carved mahogany drawers； a
looking…glass in a filigreed frame； and a high…backed chair studded with
brass nails like a coffin； constituted the furniture。 Over the head of the bed
were two oak shelves； holding perhaps a dozen books…among which were
Theodore； or The Peruvians； Robinson Crusoe； an odd volume of Tristram
Shandy； Baxter's Saints' Rest； and a fine English edition of the Arabian
Nights； with six hundred wood…cuts by Harvey。
Shall I ever forget the hour when I first overhauled these books？ I do
not allude especially to Baxter's Saints' Rest； which is far from being a
lively work for the young； but to the Arabian Nights； and particularly
Robinson Crusoe。 The thrill that ran into my fingers' ends then has not run
out yet。 Many a time did I steal up to this nest of a room； and； taking the
dog's…eared volume from its shelf； glide off into an enchanted realm；
where there were no lessons to get and no boys to smash my kite。 In a
lidless trunk in the garret I subsequently unearthed another motley
collection of novels and romances； embracing the adventures of Baron
Trenck； Jack Sheppard； Don Quixote； Gil Blas； and Charlotte Temple…all
of which I fed upon like a bookworm。
I never come across a copy of any of those works without feeling a
certain tenderness for the yellow…haired little rascal who used to lean
above the magic pages hour after hour； religiously believing every word
he read； and no more doubting the reality of Sindbad the Sailor； or the
Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance； than he did the existence of his own
grandfather。
Against the wall at the foot of the bed hung a single…barrel shot…gun…
placed there by Grandfather Nutter； who knew what a boy loved； if ever a
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grandfather did。 As the trigger of the gun had been accidentally twisted off；
it was not； perhaps； the most dangerous weapon that could be placed in the
hands of youth。 In this maimed condition its 〃bump of destructiveness〃
was much less than that of my small brass pocket…pistol； which I at once
proceeded to suspend from one of the nails supporting the fowling…piece；
for my vagaries concerning the red man had been entirely dispelled。
Having introduced the reader to the Nutter House； a presentation to the
Nutter family naturally follows。 The family consisted of my grandfather；
his sister； Miss Abigail Nutter； and Kitty Collins； the maid…of…all…work。
Grandfather Nutter was a hale； cheery old gentleman； as straight and
as bald as an arrow。 He had been a sailor in early life； that is to say； at the
age of ten years he fled from the multiplication…table； and ran away to sea。
A single voyage satisfied him。 There never was but one of our family who
didn't run away to sea； and this one died at his birth。 My grandfather had
also been a soldier…a captain of militia in 1812。 If I owe the British nation
anything； I owe thanks to that particular British soldier who put a musket…
ball into the fleshy part of Captain Nutter's leg； causing that noble warrior
a slight permanent limp； but offsetting the injury by furnishing him with
the material for a story which the old gentleman was never weary of
telling and I never weary of listening to。 The story； in brief； was as
follows。
At the breaking out of the war； an English frigate lay for several days
off the coast near Rivermouth。 A strong fort defended the harbor； and a
regiment of minute…men； scattered at various points along…shore； stood
ready to repel the boats； should the enemy try to effect a landing。 Captain
Nutter had charge of a slight earthwork just outside the mouth of the river。
Late one thick night the sound of oars was heard； the sentinel tried to f
