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lavengro-第116部分
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raised the pitcher to my lips。
The tinker; for such I supposed him to be; without altering his
posture; raised his eyes; looked at me for a moment; gave a slight
nod; and then once more fixed his eyes upon the table。 I took a
draught of the ale; which I found excellent; 'Won't you drink?'
said I; holding the pitcher to the tinker。
The man again lifted up his eyes; looked at me; and then at the
pitcher; and then at me again。 I thought at one time that he was
about to shake his head in sign of refusal; but no; he looked once
more at the pitcher; and the temptation was too strong。 Slowly
removing his head from his arms; he took the pitcher; sighed;
nodded; and drank a tolerable quantity; and then set the pitcher
down before me upon the table。
'You had better mend your draught;' said I to the tinker; 'it is a
sad heart that never rejoices。'
'That's true;' said the tinker; and again raising the pitcher to
his lips; he mended his draught as I had bidden him; drinking a
larger quantity than before。
'Pass it to your wife;' said I。
The poor woman took the pitcher from the man's hand; before;
however; raising it to her lips; she looked at the children。 True
mother's heart; thought I to myself; and taking the half…pint mug;
I made her fill it; and then held it to the children; causing each
to take a draught。 The woman wiped her eyes with the corner of her
gown; before she raised the pitcher and drank to my health。
In about five minutes none of the family looked half so
disconsolate as before; and the tinker and I were in deep
discourse。
Oh; genial and gladdening is the power of good ale; the true and
proper drink of Englishmen。 He is not deserving of the name of
Englishman who speaketh against ale; that is good ale; like that
which has just made merry the hearts of this poor family; and yet
there are beings; calling themselves Englishmen; who say that it is
a sin to drink a cup of ale; and who; on coming to this passage
will be tempted to fling down the book and exclaim; 'The man is
evidently a bad man; for behold; by his own confession; he is not
only fond of ale himself; but is in the habit of tempting other
people with it。' Alas! alas! what a number of silly individuals
there are in this world; I wonder what they would have had me do in
this instance … given the afflicted family a cup of cold water? go
to! They could have found water in the road; for there was a
pellucid spring only a few yards distant from the house; as they
were well aware … but they wanted not water; what should I have
given them? meat and bread? go to! They were not hungry; there was
stifled sobbing in their bosoms; and the first mouthful of strong
meat would have choked them。 What should I have given them?
Money! what right had I to insult them by offering them money?
Advice! words; words; words; friends; there is a time for
everything; there is a time for a cup of cold water; there is a
time for strong meat and bread; there is a time for advice; and
there is a time for ale; and I have generally found that the time
for advice is after a cup of ale。 I do not say many cups; the
tongue then speaketh more smoothly; and the ear listeneth more
benignantly; but why do I attempt to reason with you? do I not know
you for conceited creatures; with one idea … and that a foolish
one; … a crotchet; for the sake of which ye would sacrifice
anything; religion if required … country? There; fling down my
book; I do not wish ye to walk any farther in my company; unless
you cast your nonsense away; which ye will never do; for it is the
breath of your nostrils; fling down my book; it was not written to
support a crotchet; for know one thing; my good people; I have
invariably been an enemy to humbug。
'Well;' said the tinker; after we had discoursed some time; 'little
thought; when I first saw you; that you were of my own trade。'
MYSELF。 Nor am I; at least not exactly。 There is not much
difference; 'tis true; between a tinker and a smith。
TINKER。 You are a whitesmith then?
MYSELF。 Not I; I'd scorn to be anything so mean; no; friend;
black's the colour; I am a brother of the horse…shoe。 Success to
the hammer and tongs。
TINKER。 Well; I shouldn't have thought you had been a blacksmith
by your hands。
MYSELF。 I have seen them; however; as black as yours。 The truth
is; I have not worked for many a day。
TINKER。 Where did you serve first?
MYSELF。 In Ireland。
TINKER。 That's a good way off; isn't it?
MYSELF。 Not very far; over those mountains to the left; and the
run of salt water that lies behind them; there's Ireland。
TINKER。 It's a fine thing to be a scholar。
MYSELF。 Not half so fine as to be a tinker。
TINKER。 How you talk!
MYSELF。 Nothing but the truth; what can be better than to be one's
own master? Now a tinker is his own master; a scholar is not。 Let
us suppose the best of scholars; a schoolmaster for example; for I
suppose you will admit that no one can be higher in scholarship
than a schoolmaster; do you call his a pleasant life? I don't; we
should call him a school…slave; rather than a schoolmaster。 Only
conceive him in blessed weather like this; in his close school;
teaching children to write in copy…books; 'Evil communication
corrupts good manners;' or 'You cannot touch pitch without
defilement;' or to spell out of Abedariums; or to read out of Jack
Smith; or Sandford and Merton。 Only conceive him; I say; drudging
in such guise from morning till night; without any rational
enjoyment but to beat the children。 Would you compare such a dog's
life as that with your own … the happiest under heaven … true Eden
life; as the Germans would say; … pitching your tent under the
pleasant hedgerows; listening to the song of the feathered tribes;
collecting all the leaky kettles in the neighbourhood; soldering
and joining; earning your honest bread by the wholesome sweat of
your brow … making ten holes … hey; what's this? what's the man
crying for?
Suddenly the tinker had covered his face with his hands; and begun
to sob and moan like a man in the deepest distress; the breast of
his wife was heaved with emotion; even the children were agitated;
the youngest began to roar。
MYSELF。 What's the matter with you; what are you all crying about?
TINKER (uncovering his face)。 Lord; why to hear you talk; isn't
that enough to make anybody cry … even the poor babes? Yes; you
said right; 'tis life in the garden of Eden … the tinker's; I see
so now that I'm about to give it up。
MYSELF。 Give it up! you must not think of such a thing。
TINKER。 No; I can't bear to think of it; and yet I must; what's to
be done? How hard to be frightened to death; to be driven off the
roads。
MYSELF。 Who has driven you off the roads?
TINKER。 Who! the Fl
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