father and son-第14章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　waited　for。　This　worthy　was　a　tall　and　bony　Jersey　Protestant　with　a　raucous　voice；　who　strode　up　our　street　several　times　a　week；　carrying　a　yoke　across　his　shoulders；　from　the　ends　of　which　hung　ropes　of　onions。　He　used　to　shout；　at　abrupt　intervals；　in　a　tone　which　might　wake　the　dead：

Here's　your　rope　。　。　。　。　To　hang　the　Pope　。　。　。　。　And　a　penn'orth　of　cheese　to　choke　him。

The　cheese　appeared　to　be　legendary；　he　sold　only　onions。　My　Father　did　not　eat　onions；　but　he　encouraged　this　terrible　fellow；　with　his　wild　eyes　and　long　strips　of　hair；　because　of　his　godly　attitude　towards　the　'Papacy'；　and　I　used　to　watch　him　dart　out　of　the　front　door；　present　his　penny；　and　retire；　graciously　waving　back　the　proffered　onion。　On　the　other　hand；　my　Father　did　not　approve　of　a　fat　sailor；　who　was　a　constant　passer…by。　This　man；　who　was　probably　crazed；　used　to　wall　very　slowly　up　the　centre　of　our　street；　vociferating　with　the　voice　of　a　bull；

Wa…a…atch　and　pray…hay！　Night　and　day…hay！

This　melancholy　admonition　was　the　entire　business　of　his　life。　He　did　nothing　at　all　but　walk　up　and　down　the　streets　of　Islington　exhorting　the　inhabitants　to　watch　and　pray。　I　do　not　recollect　that　this　sailor…man　stopped　to　collect　pennies；　and　my　impression　is　that　he　was；　after　his　fashion；　a　volunteer　evangelist。

The　tragedy　of　Mr。　Punch　was　another；　and　a　still　greater　delight。　I　was　never　allowed　to　go　out　into　the　street　to　mingle　with　the　little　crowd　which　gathered　under　the　stage；　and　as　I　was　extremely　near…sighted；　the　impression　I　received　was　vague。　But　when；　by　happy　chance；　the　show　stopped　opposite　our　door；　I　saw　enough　of　that　ancient　drama　to　be　thrilled　with　terror　and　delight。　I　was　much　affected　by　the　internal　troubles　of　the　Punch　family；　I　thought　that　with　a　little　more　tact　on　the　part　of　Mrs。　Punch　and　some　restraint　held　over　a　temper；　naturally　violent；　by　Mr。　Punch；　a　great　deal　of　this　sad　misunderstanding　might　have　been　prevented。

The　momentous　close；　when　a　figure　of　shapeless　horror　appears　on　the　stage；　and　quells　the　hitherto　undaunted　Mr。　Punch；　was　to　me　the　bouquet　of　the　entire　performance。　When　Mr　Punch；　losing　his　nerve；　points　to　this　shape　and　says　in　an　awestruck；　squeaking　whisper；　'　Who's　that？　Is　it　the　butcher？　and　the　stern　answer　comes；　'No；　Mr。　Punch！'　And　then；　'Is　it　the　baker？〃　No；　Mr。　Punch！　〃Who　is　it　then？'　（this　in　a　squeak　trembling　with　emotion　and　terror）；　and　then　the　full；　loud　reply；　booming　like　a　judgement…bell；　'It　is　the　Devil　come　to　take　you　down　to　Hell；'　and　the　form　of　Punch；　with　kicking　legs；　sunken　in　epilepsy　on　the　floor；　all　this　was　solemn　and　exquisite　to　me　beyond　words。　I　was　not　amused　I　was　deeply　moved　and　exhilarated；　'purged'；　as　the　old　phrase　hath　it；　'with　pity　and　terror'。

Another　joy；　in　a　lighter　key；　was　watching　a　fantastic　old　man　who　came　slowly　up　the　street；　hung　about　with　drums　and　flutes　and　kites　and　coloured　balls；　and　bearing　over　his　shoulders　a　great　sack。　Children　and　servant…girls　used　to　bolt　up　out　of　areas；　and　chaffer　with　this　gaudy　person；　who　would　presently　trudge　on；　always　repeating　the　same　set　of　words

Here's　your　toys　For　girls　and　boys；　For　bits　of　brass　And　broken　glass；　（these　four　lines　being　spoken　in　a　breathless　hurry）　A　penny　or　a　vial…bottell　。　。　。　。　（this　being　drawled　out　in　an　endless　wail）。

I　was　not　permitted　to　go　forth　and　trade　with　this　old　person；　but　sometimes　our　servant…maid　did；　thereby　making　me　feel　that　if　I　did　not　hold　the　rose　of　merchandise；　I　was　very　near　it。　My　experiences　with　my　cousins　at　Clifton　had　given　me　the　habit　of　looking　out　into　the　world　even　though　it　was　only　into　the　pale　world　of　our　quiet　street。

My　Father　and　I　were　now　great　friends。　I　do　not　doubt　that　he　felt　his　responsibility　to　fill　as　far　as　might　be　the　gap　which　the　death　of　my　Mother　had　made　in　my　existence。　I　spent　a　large　portion　of　my　time　in　his　study　while　he　was　writing　or　drawing；　and　though　very　little　conversation　passed　between　us；　I　think　that　each　enjoyed　the　companionship　of　the　other。　Them　were　two；　and　sometimes　three　aquaria　in　the　room；　tanks　of　sea…water；　with　glass　sides；　inside　which　all　sorts　of　creatures　crawled　and　swam；　these　were　sources　of　endless　pleasure　to　me；　and　at　this　time　began　to　be　laid　upon　me　the　occasional　task　of　watching　and　afterwards　reporting　the　habits　of　animals。

At　other　times；　I　dragged　a　folio　volume　of　the　Penny　Cyclopaedia　up　to　the　study　with　me；　and　sat　there　reading　successive　articles　on　such　subjects　as　Parrots；　Parthians；　Passion…flowers；　Passover　and　Pastry；　without　any　invidious　preferences；　all　information　being　equally　welcome；　and　equally　fugitive。　That　something　of　all　this　loose　stream　of　knowledge　clung　to　odd　cells　of　the　back　of　my　brain　seems　to　be　shown　by　the　fact　that　to　this　day；　I　occasionally　find　myself　aware　of　some　stray　useless　fact　about　peonies　or　pemmican　or　pepper；　which　I　can　only　trace　back　to　the　Penny　Cyclopaedia　of　my　infancy。

It　will　be　asked　what　the　attitude　of　my　Father's　mind　was　to　me；　and　of　mine　to　his；　as　regards　religion；　at　this　time；　when　we　were　thrown　together　alone　so　much。　It　is　difficult　to　reply　with　exactitude。　But　so　far　as　the　former　is　concerned；　I　thinly　that　the　extreme　violence　of　the　spiritual　emotions　to　which　my　Father　had　been　subjected；　had　now　been　followed　by　a　certain　reaction。　He　had　not　changed　his　views　in　any　respect；　and　he　was　prepared　to　work　out　the　results　of　them　with　greater　zeal　than　ever；　but　just　at　present　his　religious　nature；　like　his　physical　nature；　was　tired　out　with　anxiety　and　sorrow。　Ho　accepted　the　supposition　that　I　was　entirely　with　him　in　all　respects；　so　far；　that　is　to　say；　as　a　being　so　rudimentary　and　feeble　as　a　little　child　could　be。　My　Mother；　in　her　last　hours；　had　dwelt　on　our　unity　in　God；　we　were　drawn　together；　she　said；　elect　from　the　world；　in　a　triplicity　of　faith　and　joy。　She　had　constantly　repeated　the　words：　'We　shall　be　one　family；　one　song。　One　song！　one　family！'　My　Father；　I　think；　accepted　this　as　a　prophecy；　he　felt　no　doubt　of　our　triple　unity；　my　Mother　had　now　merely　passed　before　us；　through　a　door；　into　a　world　of　light；　where　we　should　presently　join　her；　where　all　things　would　be　radiant　and　blissful；　but　where　we　three　would；　in　some　unknown　way；　be　particularly　drawn　together　in　a　tie　of　inexpressible　beatitude。　He　fretted　at　the　delay；　he　would　have　taken　me　by　the　hand；　and　have　joined　her　in　the　realms　of　holiness　and　light；　at　once；　without　this　dreary　dalliance　with　earthly　cares。

He　held　this　confidence　and　vision　steadily　before　him；　but　nothing　availed　against　the　melancholy　of　his　natural　state。　He　was　conscious　of　his　dull　and　solitary　condition；　and　he　saw；　too；　that　it　enveloped　me。　I　think　his　heart　was；　at　this　time；　drawn　out　towards　me　in　an　immense　tenderness。　Sometimes；　when　the　early　twilight　descended　upon　us　in　the　study；　and　he　could　no　longer　peer　with　advantage　into　the　depths　of　his　microscope；　he　would　beckon　me　to　him　silently；　and　fold　me　closely　in　his　arms。　I　used　to　turn　my　face　up　to　his；　patiently　and　wonderingly；　while　the　large；　unwilling　tears　gathered　in　the　corners　of　his　eyelids。　My　training　had　given　me　a　preternatural　faculty　of　stillness；　and　we　would　stay　so；　without　a　word　or　a　movement；　until　the　darkness　filled　the　room。　And　then；　with　my　little　hand　in　his；　we　would　walk　sedately　downstairs　to　the　parlour；　where　we　would　find　that　the　lamp　was　lighted；　and　that　our　melancholy　vigil　was　ended。　I　do　not　think　that　at　any　part　of　our　lives　my　Father　and　I　were　drawn　so　close　to　one　another　as　we　were　in　that　summer　of　1857。　Yet　we　seldom　spoke　of　what　lay　so　warm　and　fragrant　between　us；　the　flower…like　thought　of　our　Departed。

The　visit　to　my　cousins　had　made　one　considerable　change　in　me。　Under　the　old　solitary　discipline；　my　intelligence　had　grown　at　the　expense　of　my　sentiment。　I　was　innocent；　but　inhuman。　The　long　suffering　and　the　death　of　my　Mother　had　awakened　my　heart；　had　taught　me　what　pain　was；　but　had　left　me　savage　and　morose。　I　had　still　no　idea　of　the　relations　of　human　beings　to　one　another；　I　had　learned　no　word　of　that　philosophy　which　come