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小说: the uncommercial traveller 字数: 每页4000字

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a revived spirit; thinking that perchance I might behold there some

remains of the old times of the town's greatness。  There was only

one man at work … a dry man; grizzled; and far advanced in years;

but tall and upright; who; becoming aware of me looking on;

straightened his back; pushed up his spectacles against his brown…

paper cap; and appeared inclined to defy me。  To whom I pacifically

said:



'Good day; sir!'



'What?' said he。



'Good day; sir。'



He seemed to consider about that; and not to agree with me。 … 'Was

you a looking for anything?' he then asked; in a pointed manner。



'I was wondering whether there happened to be any fragment of an

old stage…coach here。'



'Is that all?'



'That's all。'



'No; there ain't。'



It was now my turn to say 'Oh!' and I said it。  Not another word

did the dry and grizzled man say; but bent to his work again。  In

the coach…making days; the coach…painters had tried their brushes

on a post beside him; and quite a Calendar of departed glories was

to be read upon it; in blue and yellow and red and green; some

inches thick。  Presently he looked up again。



'You seem to have a deal of time on your hands;' was his querulous

remark。



I admitted the fact。



'I think it's a pity you was not brought up to something;' said he。



I said I thought so too。



Appearing to be informed with an idea; he laid down his plane (for

it was a plane he was at work with); pushed up his spectacles

again; and came to the door。



'Would a po…shay do for you?' he asked。



'I am not sure that I understand what you mean。'



'Would a po…shay;' said the coachmaker; standing close before me;

and folding his arms in the manner of a cross…examining counsel …

'would a po…shay meet the views you have expressed?  Yes; or no?'



'Yes。'



'Then you keep straight along down there till you see one。  YOU'LL

see one if you go fur enough。'



With that; he turned me by the shoulder in the direction I was to

take; and went in and resumed his work against a background of

leaves and grapes。  For; although he was a soured man and a

discontented; his workshop was that agreeable mixture of town and

country; street and garden; which is often to be seen in a small

English town。



I went the way he had turned me; and I came to the Beer…shop with

the sign of The First and Last; and was out of the town on the old

London road。  I came to the Turnpike; and I found it; in its silent

way; eloquent respecting the change that had fallen on the road。

The Turnpike…house was all overgrown with ivy; and the Turnpike…

keeper; unable to get a living out of the tolls; plied the trade of

a cobbler。  Not only that; but his wife sold ginger…beer; and; in

the very window of espial through which the Toll…takers of old

times used with awe to behold the grand London coaches coming on at

a gallop; exhibited for sale little barber's…poles of sweetstuff in

a sticky lantern。



The political economy of the master of the turnpike thus expressed

itself。



'How goes turnpike business; master?' said I to him; as he sat in

his little porch; repairing a shoe。



'It don't go at all; master;' said he to me。  'It's stopped。'



'That's bad;' said I。



'Bad?' he repeated。  And he pointed to one of his sunburnt dusty

children who was climbing the turnpike…gate; and said; extending

his open right hand in remonstrance with Universal Nature。  'Five

on 'em!'



'But how to improve Turnpike business?' said I。



'There's a way; master;' said he; with the air of one who had

thought deeply on the subject。



'I should like to know it。'



'Lay a toll on everything as comes through; lay a toll on walkers。

Lay another toll on everything as don't come through; lay a toll on

them as stops at home。'



'Would the last remedy be fair?'



'Fair?  Them as stops at home; could come through if they liked;

couldn't they?'



'Say they could。'



'Toll 'em。  If they don't come through; it's THEIR look out。

Anyways; … Toll 'em!'



Finding it was as impossible to argue with this financial genius as

if he had been Chancellor of the Exchequer; and consequently the

right man in the right place; I passed on meekly。



My mind now began to misgive me that the disappointed coach…maker

had sent me on a wild…goose errand; and that there was no post…

chaise in those parts。  But coming within view of certain

allotment…gardens by the roadside; I retracted the suspicion; and

confessed that I had done him an injustice。  For; there I saw;

surely; the poorest superannuated post…chaise left on earth。



It was a post…chaise taken off its axletree and wheels; and plumped

down on the clayey soil among a ragged growth of vegetables。  It

was a post…chaise not even set straight upon the ground; but tilted

over; as if it had fallen out of a balloon。  It was a post…chaise

that had been a long time in those decayed circumstances; and

against which scarlet beans were trained。  It was a post…chaise

patched and mended with old tea…trays; or with scraps of iron that

looked like them; and boarded up as to the windows; but having A

KNOCKER on the off…side door。  Whether it was a post…chaise used as

tool…house; summer…house; or dwelling…house; I could not discover;

for there was nobody at home at the post…chaise when I knocked; but

it was certainly used for something; and locked up。  In the wonder

of this discovery; I walked round and round the post…chaise many

times; and sat down by the post…chaise; waiting for further

elucidation。  None came。  At last; I made my way back to the old

London road by the further end of the allotment…gardens; and

consequently at a point beyond that from which I had diverged。  I

had to scramble through a hedge and down a steep bank; and I nearly

came down a…top of a little spare man who sat breaking stones by

the roadside。



He stayed his hammer; and said; regarding me mysteriously through

his dark goggles of wire:



'Are you aware; sir; that you've been trespassing?'



'I turned out of the way;' said I; in explanation; 'to look at that

odd post…chaise。  Do you happen to know anything about it?'



'I know it was many a year upon the road;' said he。



'So I supposed。  Do you know to whom it belongs?'



The stone…breaker bent his brows and goggles over his heap of

stones; as if he were considering whether he should answer the

question or not。  Then; raising his barred eyes to my features as

before; he said:



'To me。'



Being quite unprepared for the reply; I received it with a

sufficiently awkward 'Indeed!  Dear me!'  Presently I added; 'Do

you … ' I was going to say 'live there;' but it seemed so absurd a

question; that I substituted 'live near here?'



The stone…breaker; who had not broken a fragment since we began to

converse; then did as follows。  He raised himself by poising his

finger on his hammer; and took his coat; on which he had been

seated; over his arm。  He then backed to an easier part of the bank

than that by which I had come down; keeping his dark goggles

silently upon me all the time; and then shouldered his hammer;

suddenly turned; ascended; and was gone。  His face was so small;

and his goggles were so large; that he left me wholly uninformed as

to his countenance; but he left me a profound impression that the

curved legs I had seen from behind as he vanished; were the legs of

an old postboy。  It was not until then that I noticed he had been

working by a grass…grown milestone; which looked like a tombstone

erected over the grave of the London road。



My dinner…hour being close at hand; I had no leisure to pursue the

goggles or the subject then; but made my way back to the Dolphin's

Head。  In the gateway I found J。 Mellows; looking at nothing; and

apparently experiencing that it failed to raise his spirits。



'I don't care for the town;' said J。 Mellows; when I complimented

him on the sanitary advantages it may or may not possess; 'I wish I

had never seen the town!'



'You don't belong to it; Mr。 Mellows?'



'Belong to it!' repeated Mellows。  'If I didn't belong to a better

style of town than this; I'd take and drown myself in a pail。'  It

then occurred to me that Mellows; having so little to do; was

habitually thrown back on his internal resources … by which I mean

the Dolphin's cellar。



'What we want;' said Mellows; pulling off his hat; and making as if

he emptied it of the last load of Disgust that had exuded from his

brain; before he put it on again for another load; 'what we want;

is a Branch。  The Petition for the Branch Bill is in the coffee…

room。  Would you put your name to it?  Every little helps。'



I found the document in question stretched out flat on the coffee…

room table by the aid of certain weights from the kitchen; and I

gave it the additional weight of my uncommercial signature。  To the

best of my belief; I bound m

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