the children(孩子们)-第10节
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THE CHILDREN
composed a letter to Victor Hugo； the address whereof was a matter of
some thought。 The final decision was to direct it； 〃A Victor Hugo；
Ocean。〃 It reached him。 It even received a reply： 〃I am the Past； you
are the Future； I am； etc。〃 If an English boy had had the same idea the
name of the Channel Islands would have spoilt it。 〃A Victor Hugo； La
Manche；〃 would hardly have interested the postal authorities so much； but
〃the Channel〃 would have had no respect at all。 Indeed； this last is
suggestive of nothing but steamers and of grey skies inland formless
grey skies； undesigned； with their thin cloud torn to slender rags by a
perpetual wind。
As for the children； to whom belongs the margin of the sea； machine…
bathing at eleven o'clock will hardly furnish them with a magical early
memory。 Time was when this was made penitential to them； like the rest
of life； upon a principle that no longer prevails。 It was vulgarized for
them and made violent。 A bathing woman； type of all ugliness in their
sensitive eyes； came striding； shapeless； through the unfriendly sea； seized
them if they were very young； ducked them； and returned them to the
chilly machine； generally in the futile and superfluous saltness of tears。
〃Too much of water had they；〃 poor infants。
None the less is the barren shore the children's； and St。 Augustine；
Isaac Newton； and Wordsworth had not a vision of sea…beaches without a
child there。
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THE CHILDREN
THE BOY
After an infancy of more than common docility and a young childhood
of few explicit revolts； the boy of twelve years old enters upon a phase
which the bystander may not well understand but may make shift to note
as an impression。
Like other subtle things； his position is hardly to be described but by
negatives。 Above all； he is not demonstrative。 The days are long gone
by when he said he wanted a bicycle； a top hat； and a pipe。 One or two
of these things he has； and he takes them without the least swagger。 He
avoids expression of any kind。 Any satisfaction he may feel with things
as they are is rather to be surprised in his manner than perceived in his
action。 Mr。 Jaggers； when it befell him to be astonished； showed it by a
stop of manner； for an indivisible momentnot by a pause in the thing he
chanced to be about。 In like manner the boy cannot prevent his most
innocent pleasures from arresting him。
He will not endure （albeit he does not confess so much） to be told to
do anything； at least in that citadel of his freedom； his home。 His elders
probably give him as few orders as possible。 He will almost ingeniously
evade any that are inevitably or thoughtlessly inflicted upon him； but if he
does but succeed in only postponing his obedience； he has； visibly； done
something for his own relief。 It is less convenient that he should hold mere
questions； addressed to him in all good faith； as in some sort an attempt
upon his liberty。
Questions about himself one might understand to be an outrage。 But
it is against impersonal and indifferent questions also that the boy sets his
face like a rock。 He has no ambition to give information on any point。
Older people may not dislike the opportunity； and there are even those
who bring to pass questions of a trivial kind for the pleasure of answering
them with animation。 This； the boy perhaps thinks； is 〃fuss；〃 and； if he
has any passions； he has a passionate dislike of fuss。
When a younger child tears the boy's scrapbook （which is conjectured；
though not known； to be the dearest thing he has） he betrays no emotion；
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THE CHILDREN
that was to be expected。 But when the stolen pages are rescued and put
by for him； he abstains from taking an interest in the retrieval； he will do
nothing to restore them。 To do so would mar the integrity of his reserve。
If he would do much rather than answer questions； he would suffer
something rather than ask them。
He loves his father and a friend of his father's； and he pushes them； in
order to show it without compromising his temperament。
He is a partisan in silence。 It may be guessed that he is often
occupied in comparing other people with his admired men。 Of this too
he says little； except some brief word of allusion to what other men do
NOT do。
When he speaks it is with a carefully shortened vocabulary。 As an
author shuns monotony； so does the boy shun change。 He does not
generally talk slang； his habitual words are the most usual of daily words
made useful and appropriate by certain varieties of voice。 These express
for him all that he will consent to communicate。 He reserves more by
speaking dull words with zeal than by using zealous words that might
betray him。 But his brevity is the chief thing； he has almost made an art
of it。
He is not 〃merry。〃 Merry boys have pretty manners； and it must be
owned that this boy's manners are not pretty。 But if not merry； he is
happy； there never was a more untroubled soul。 If he has an almost
grotesque reticence； he has no secrets。 Nothing that he thinks is very
much hidden。 Even if he did not push his father； it would be evident that
the boy loves him； even if he never laid his hand （and this little thing he
does rarely） on his friend's shoulder； it would be plain that he loves his
friend。 His happiness appears in his moody and charming face； his
ambition in his dumbness； and the hopes of his life to come in ungainly
bearing。 How does so much heart； how does so much sweetness； all
unexpressed； appear？ For it is not only those who know him well that
know the child's heart； strangers are aware of it。 This； which he would
not reveal； is the only thing that is quite unmistakable and quite
conspicuous。 What he thinks that he turns visibly to the world is a sense
of humour； with a measure of criticism and of indifference。 What he
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THE CHILDREN
thinks the world may divine in him is courage and an intelligence。 But
carry himself how he will； he is manifestly a tender； gentle； and even
spiritual creature； masculine and innocent〃a nice boy。〃 There is no other
way of describing him than that of his own brief language。
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THE CHILDREN
ILLNESS
The patience of young children in illness is a commonplace of some
little books； but none the less a fresh fact。 In spite of the sentimental；
children in illness remain the full sources of perpetual surprises。 Their
self…control in real suffering is a wonder。 A little turbulent girl； brilliant
and wild； and unaccustomed； it might be thought； to deal in any way with
her own impulsesa child whose way was to cry out； laugh； complain； and
triumph without bating anything of her own temperament； and without the
hesitation of a moment； struck her face； on a run； against a wall and was
cut and in a moment overwhelmed with pain and covered with blood。
〃Tell mother it's nothing！ Tell mother； quick； it's nothing！〃 cried the
magnanimous child as soon as she could speak。
The same child fell over the rail of a staircase and was obliged to lie
for some ten days on her back； so that
