the uncommercial traveller-第106部分

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Queenstown　and　up　comes　the　mail…agent　in　charge　of　the　bags；　and

up　come　the　men　who　are　to　carry　the　bags　into　the　mail…tender　that

will　come　off　for　them　out　of　the　harbour。　　Lamps　and　lanterns

gleam　here　and　there　about　the　decks；　and　impeding　bulks　are

knocked　away　with　handspikes；　and　the　port…side　bulwark；　barren　but

a　moment　ago；　bursts　into　a　crop　of　heads　of　seamen；　stewards；　and

engineers。



The　light　begins　to　be　gained　upon；　begins　to　be　alongside；　begins

to　be　left　astern。　　More　rockets；　and；　between　us　and　the　land；

steams　beautifully　the　Inman　steamship　City　of　Paris；　for　New　York；

outward　bound。　　We　observe　with　complacency　that　the　wind　is　dead

against　her　（it　being　WITH　us）；　and　that　she　rolls　and　pitches。

（The　sickest　passenger　on　board　is　the　most　delighted　by　this

circumstance。）　　Time　rushes　by　as　we　rush　on；　and　now　we　see　the

light　in　Queenstown　Harbour；　and　now　the　lights　of　the　mail…tender

coming　out　to　us。　　What　vagaries　the　mail…tender　performs　on　the

way；　in　every　point　of　the　compass；　especially　in　those　where　she

has　no　business；　and　why　she　performs　them；　Heaven　only　knows！　　At

length　she　is　seen　plunging　within　a　cable's　length　of　our　port

broadside；　and　is　being　roared　at　through　our　speaking…trumpets　to

do　this　thing；　and　not　to　do　that；　and　to　stand　by　the　other；　as　if

she　were　a　very　demented　tender　indeed。　　Then；　we　slackening　amidst

a　deafening　roar　of　steam；　this　much…abused　tender　is　made　fast　to

us　by　hawsers；　and　the　men　in　readiness　carry　the　bags　aboard；　and

return　for　more；　bending　under　their　burdens；　and　looking　just　like

the　pasteboard　figures　of　the　miller　and　his　men　in　the　theatre　of

our　boyhood；　and　comporting　themselves　almost　as　unsteadily。　　All

the　while　the　unfortunate　tender　plunges　high　and　low；　and　is

roared　at。　　Then　the　Queenstown　passengers　are　put　on　board　of　her；

with　infinite　plunging　and　roaring；　and　the　tender　gets　heaved　up

on　the　sea　to　that　surprising　extent　that　she　looks　within　an　ace

of　washing　aboard　of　us；　high　and　dry。　　Roared　at　with　contumely　to

the　last；　this　wretched　tender　is　at　length　let　go；　with　a　final

plunge　of　great　ignominy；　and　falls　spinning　into　our　wake。



The　voice　of　conscience　resumed　its　dominion　as　the　day　climbed　up

the　sky；　and　kept　by　all　of　us　passengers　into　port；　kept　by　us　as


we　passed　other　lighthouses；　and　dangerous　islands　off　the　coast；

where　some　of　the　officers；　with　whom　I　stood　my　watch；　had　gone

ashore　in　sailing…ships　in　fogs　（and　of　which　by　that　token　they

seemed　to　have　quite　an　affectionate　remembrance）；　and　past　the

Welsh　coast；　and　past　the　Cheshire　coast；　and　past　everything　and

everywhere　lying　between　our　ship　and　her　own　special　dock　in　the

Mersey。　　Off　which；　at　last；　at　nine　of　the　clock；　on　a　fair

evening　early　in　May；　we　stopped；　and　the　voice　ceased。　　A　very

curious　sensation；　not　unlike　having　my　own　ears　stopped；　ensued

upon　that　silence；　and　it　was　with　a　no　less　curious　sensation　that

I　went　over　the　side　of　the　good　Cunard　ship　'Russia'　（whom

prosperity　attend　through　all　her　voyages！）　and　surveyed　the　outer

hull　of　the　gracious　monster　that　the　voice　had　inhabited。　　So；

perhaps；　shall　we　all；　in　the　spirit；　one　day　survey　the　frame　that

held　the　busier　voice　from　which　my　vagrant　fancy　derived　this

similitude。







CHAPTER　XXXII　…　A　SMALL　STAR　IN　THE　EAST







I　had　been　looking；　yesternight；　through　the　famous　'Dance　of

Death；'　and　to…day　the　grim　old　woodcuts　arose　in　my　mind　with　the

new　significance　of　a　ghastly　monotony　not　to　be　found　in　the

original。　　The　weird　skeleton　rattled　along　the　streets　before　me；

and　struck　fiercely；　but　it　was　never　at　the　pains　of　assuming　a

disguise。　　It　played　on　no　dulcimer　here；　was　crowned　with　no

flowers；　waved　no　plume；　minced　in　no　flowing　robe　or　train；　lifted

no　wine…cup；　sat　at　no　feast；　cast　no　dice；　counted　no　gold。　　It

was　simply　a　bare；　gaunt；　famished　skeleton；　slaying　his　way　along。



The　borders　of　Ratcliff　and　Stepney；　eastward　of　London；　and　giving

on　the　impure　river；　were　the　scene　of　this　uncompromising　dance　of

death；　upon　a　drizzling　November　day。　　A　squalid　maze　of　streets；

courts；　and　alleys　of　miserable　houses　let　out　in　single　rooms。　　A

wilderness　of　dirt；　rags；　and　hunger。　　A　mud…desert；　chiefly

inhabited　by　a　tribe　from　whom　employment　has　departed；　or　to　whom

it　comes　but　fitfully　and　rarely。　　They　are　not　skilled　mechanics

in　any　wise。　　They　are　but　labourers；　…　dock…labourers；　water…side

labourers；　coal…porters；　ballast…heavers；　such…like　hewers　of　wood

and　drawers　of　water。　　But　they　have　come　into　existence；　and　they

propagate　their　wretched　race。



One　grisly　joke　alone；　methought；　the　skeleton　seemed　to　play　off

here。　　It　had　stuck　election…bills　on　the　walls；　which　the　wind　and

rain　had　deteriorated　into　suitable　rags。　　It　had　even　summed　up

the　state　of　the　poll；　in　chalk；　on　the　shutters　of　one　ruined

house。　　It　adjured　the　free　and　independent　starvers　to　vote　for

Thisman　and　vote　for　Thatman；　not　to　plump；　as　they　valued　the

state　of　parties　and　the　national　prosperity　（both　of　great

importance　to　them；　I　think）；　but；　by　returning　Thisman　and

Thatman；　each　naught　without　the　other；　to　compound　a　glorious　and

immortal　whole。　　Surely　the　skeleton　is　nowhere　more　cruelly

ironical　in　the　original　monkish　idea！



Pondering　in　my　mind　the　far…seeing　schemes　of　Thisman　and　Thatman；

and　of　the　public　blessing　called　Party；　for　staying　the

degeneracy；　physical　and　moral；　of　many　thousands　（who　shall　say

how　many？）　of　the　English　race；　for　devising　employment　useful　to

the　community　for　those　who　want　but　to　work　and　live；　for

equalising　rates；　cultivating　waste　lands；　facilitating　emigration；

and；　above　all　things；　saving　and　utilising　the　oncoming

generations；　and　thereby　changing　ever…growing　national　weakness

into　strength：　　pondering　in　my　mind；　I　say；　these　hopeful

exertions；　I　turned　down　a　narrow　street　to　look　into　a　house　or

two。



It　was　a　dark　street　with　a　dead　wall　on　one　side。　　Nearly　all　the

outer　doors　of　the　houses　stood　open。　　I　took　the　first　entry；　and

knocked　at　a　parlour…door。　　Might　I　come　in？　　I　might；　if　I　plased；

sur。



The　woman　of　the　room　（Irish）　had　picked　up　some　long　strips　of

wood；　about　some　wharf　or　barge；　and　they　had　just　now　been　thrust

into　the　otherwise　empty　grate　to　make　two　iron　pots　boil。　　There

was　some　fish　in　one；　and　there　were　some　potatoes　in　the　other。

The　flare　of　the　burning　wood　enabled　me　to　see　a　table；　and　a

broken　chair　or　so；　and　some　old　cheap　crockery　ornaments　about　the

chimney…piece。　　It　was　not　until　I　had　spoken　with　the　woman　a　few

minutes；　that　I　saw　a　horrible　brown　heap　on　the　floor　in　a　corner；

which；　but　for　previous　experience　in　this　dismal　wise；　I　might　not

have　suspected　to　be　'the　bed。'　　There　was　something　thrown　upon

it；　and　I　asked　what　that　was。



''Tis　the　poor　craythur　that　stays　here；　sur；