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小说: the uncommercial traveller 字数: 每页4000字

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same floor; there lived a man of law who pursued his business

elsewhere; and used those chambers as his place of residence。  For

three or four years; Parkle rather knew of him than knew him; but

after that … for Englishmen … short pause of consideration; they

began to speak。  Parkle exchanged words with him in his private

character only; and knew nothing of his business ways; or means。

He was a man a good deal about town; but always alone。  We used to

remark to one another; that although we often encountered him in

theatres; concert…rooms; and similar public places; he was always

alone。  Yet he was not a gloomy man; and was of a decidedly

conversational turn; insomuch that he would sometimes of an evening

lounge with a cigar in his mouth; half in and half out of Parkle's

rooms; and discuss the topics of the day by the hour。  He used to

hint on these occasions that he had four faults to find with life;

firstly; that it obliged a man to be always winding up his watch;

secondly; that London was too small; thirdly; that it therefore

wanted variety; fourthly; that there was too much dust in it。

There was so much dust in his own faded chambers; certainly; that

they reminded me of a sepulchre; furnished in prophetic

anticipation of the present time; which had newly been brought to

light; after having remained buried a few thousand years。  One dry;

hot autumn evening at twilight; this man; being then five years

turned of fifty; looked in upon Parkle in his usual lounging way;

with his cigar in his mouth as usual; and said; 'I am going out of

town。'  As he never went out of town; Parkle said; 'Oh indeed!  At

last?'  'Yes;' says he; 'at last。  For what is a man to do?  London

is so small!  If you go West; you come to Hounslow。  If you go

East; you come to Bow。  If you go South; there's Brixton or

Norwood。  If you go North; you can't get rid of Barnet。  Then; the

monotony of all the streets; streets; streets … and of all the

roads; roads; roads … and the dust; dust; dust!'  When he had said

this; he wished Parkle a good evening; but came back again and

said; with his watch in his hand; 'Oh; I really cannot go on

winding up this watch over and over again; I wish you would take

care of it。'  So; Parkle laughed and consented; and the man went

out of town。  The man remained out of town so long; that his

letter…box became choked; and no more letters could be got into it;

and they began to be left at the lodge and to accumulate there。  At

last the head…porter decided; on conference with the steward; to

use his master…key and look into the chambers; and give them the

benefit of a whiff of air。  Then; it was found that he had hanged

himself to his bedstead; and had left this written memorandum:  'I

should prefer to be cut down by my neighbour and friend (if he will

allow me to call him so); H。 Parkle; Esq。'  This was an end of

Parkle's occupancy of chambers。  He went into lodgings immediately。



Third。  While Parkle lived in Gray's Inn; and I myself was

uncommercially preparing for the Bar … which is done; as everybody

knows; by having a frayed old gown put on in a pantry by an old

woman in a chronic state of Saint Anthony's fire and dropsy; and;

so decorated; bolting a bad dinner in a party of four; whereof each

individual mistrusts the other three … I say; while these things

were; there was a certain elderly gentleman who lived in a court of

the Temple; and was a great judge and lover of port wine。  Every

day he dined at his club and drank his bottle or two of port wine;

and every night came home to the Temple and went to bed in his

lonely chambers。  This had gone on many years without variation;

when one night he had a fit on coming home; and fell and cut his

head deep; but partly recovered and groped about in the dark to

find the door。  When he was afterwards discovered; dead; it was

clearly established by the marks of his hands about the room that

he must have done so。  Now; this chanced on the night of Christmas

Eve; and over him lived a young fellow who had sisters and young

country friends; and who gave them a little party that night; in

the course of which they played at Blindman's Buff。  They played

that game; for their greater sport; by the light of the fire only;

and once; when they were all quietly rustling and stealing about;

and the blindman was trying to pick out the prettiest sister (for

which I am far from blaming him); somebody cried; Hark!  The man

below must be playing Blindman's Buff by himself to…night!  They

listened; and they heard sounds of some one falling about and

stumbling against furniture; and they all laughed at the conceit;

and went on with their play; more light…hearted and merry than

ever。  Thus; those two so different games of life and death were

played out together; blindfolded; in the two sets of chambers。



Such are the occurrences; which; coming to my knowledge; imbued me

long ago with a strong sense of the loneliness of chambers。  There

was a fantastic illustration to much the same purpose implicitly

believed by a strange sort of man now dead; whom I knew when I had

not quite arrived at legal years of discretion; though I was

already in the uncommercial line。



This was a man who; though not more than thirty; had seen the world

in divers irreconcilable capacities … had been an officer in a

South American regiment among other odd things … but had not

achieved much in any way of life; and was in debt; and in hiding。

He occupied chambers of the dreariest nature in Lyons Inn; his

name; however; was not up on the door; or door…post; but in lieu of

it stood the name of a friend who had died in the chambers; and had

given him the furniture。  The story arose out of the furniture; and

was to this effect:… Let the former holder of the chambers; whose

name was still upon the door and door…post; be Mr。 Testator。



Mr。 Testator took a set of chambers in Lyons Inn when he had but

very scanty furniture for his bedroom; and none for his sitting…

room。  He had lived some wintry months in this condition; and had

found it very bare and cold。  One night; past midnight; when he sat

writing and still had writing to do that must be done before he

went to bed; he found himself out of coals。  He had coals down…

stairs; but had never been to his cellar; however the cellar…key

was on his mantelshelf; and if he went down and opened the cellar

it fitted; he might fairly assume the coals in that cellar to be

his。  As to his laundress; she lived among the coal…waggons and

Thames watermen … for there were Thames watermen at that time … in

some unknown rat…hole by the river; down lanes and alleys on the

other side of the Strand。  As to any other person to meet him or

obstruct him; Lyons Inn was dreaming; drunk; maudlin; moody;

betting; brooding over bill…discounting or renewing … asleep or

awake; minding its own affairs。  Mr。 Testator took his coal…scuttle

in one hand; his candle and key in the other; and descended to the

dismallest underground dens of Lyons Inn; where the late vehicles

in the streets became thunderous; and all the water…pipes in the

neighbourhood seemed to have Macbeth's Amen sticking in their

throats; and to be trying to get it out。  After groping here and

there among low doors to no purpose; Mr。 Testator at length came to

a door with a rusty padlock which his key fitted。  Getting the door

open with much trouble; and looking in; he found; no coals; but a

confused pile of furniture。  Alarmed by this intrusion on another

man's property; he locked the door again; found his own cellar;

filled his scuttle; and returned up…stairs。



But the furniture he had seen; ran on castors across and across Mr。

Testator's mind incessantly; when; in the chill hour of five in the

morning; he got to bed。  He particularly wanted a table to write

at; and a table expressly made to be written at; had been the piece

of furniture in the foreground of the heap。  When his laundress

emerged from her burrow in the morning to make his kettle boil; he

artfully led up to the subject of cellars and furniture; but the

two ideas had evidently no connexion in her mind。  When she left

him; and he sat at his breakfast; thinking about the furniture; he

recalled the rusty state of the padlock; and inferred that the

furniture must have been stored in the cellars for a long time …

was perhaps forgotten … owner dead; perhaps?  After thinking it

over; a few days; in the course of which he could pump nothing out

of Lyons Inn about the furniture; he became desperate; and resolved

to borrow that table。  He did so; that night。  He had not had the

table long; when he determined to borrow an easy…chair; he had not

had that long; when he made up his mind to borrow a bookcase; then;

a couch; then; a carpet and rug。  By that time; he felt he was 'in

furniture stepped in so far;' as that it could be no worse to

borrow it all。  Consequently; he borrowed it all; and locked u

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