lazy tour of two idle apprentices-第16节
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It was a Junction…Station; where the wooden razors before mentioned
shaved the air very often; and where the sharp electric…telegraph
bell was in a very restless condition。 All manner of cross…lines
of rails came zig…zagging into it; like a Congress of iron vipers;
and; a little way out of it; a pointsman in an elevated signal…box
was constantly going through the motions of drawing immense
quantities of beer at a public…house bar。 In one direction;
confused perspectives of embankments and arches were to be seen
from the platform; in the other; the rails soon disentangled
themselves into two tracks and shot away under a bridge; and curved
round a corner。 Sidings were there; in which empty luggage…vans
and cattle…boxes often butted against each other as if they
couldn't agree; and warehouses were there; in which great
quantities of goods seemed to have taken the veil (of the
consistency of tarpaulin); and to have retired from the world
without any hope of getting back to it。 Refreshment…rooms were
there; one; for the hungry and thirsty Iron Locomotives where their
coke and water were ready; and of good quality; for they were
dangerous to play tricks with; the other; for the hungry and
thirsty human Locomotives; who might take what they could get; and
whose chief consolation was provided in the form of three terrific
urns or vases of white metal; containing nothing; each forming a
breastwork for a defiant and apparently much…injured woman。
Established at this Station; Mr。 Thomas Idle and Mr。 Francis
Goodchild resolved to enjoy it。 But; its contrasts were very
violent; and there was also an infection in it。
First; as to its contrasts。 They were only two; but they were
Lethargy and Madness。 The Station was either totally unconscious;
or wildly raving。 By day; in its unconscious state; it looked as
if no life could come to it; … as if it were all rust; dust; and
ashes … as if the last train for ever; had gone without issuing any
Return…Tickets … as if the last Engine had uttered its last shriek
and burst。 One awkward shave of the air from the wooden razor; and
everything changed。 Tight office…doors flew open; panels yielded;
books; newspapers; travelling…caps and wrappers broke out of brick
walls; money chinked; conveyances oppressed by nightmares of
luggage came careering into the yard; porters started up from
secret places; ditto the much…injured women; the shining bell; who
lived in a little tray on stilts by himself; flew into a man's hand
and clamoured violently。 The pointsman aloft in the signal…box
made the motions of drawing; with some difficulty; hogsheads of
beer。 Down Train! More bear! Up Train! More beer。 Cross
junction Train! More beer! Cattle Train! More beer。 Goods
Train! Simmering; whistling; trembling; rumbling; thundering。
Trains on the whole confusion of intersecting rails; crossing one
another; bumping one another; hissing one another; backing to go
forward; tearing into distance to come close。 People frantic。
Exiles seeking restoration to their native carriages; and banished
to remoter climes。 More beer and more bell。 Then; in a minute;
the Station relapsed into stupor as the stoker of the Cattle Train;
the last to depart; went gliding out of it; wiping the long nose of
his oil…can with a dirty pocket…handkerchief。
By night; in its unconscious state; the Station was not so much as
visible。 Something in the air; like an enterprising chemist's
established in business on one of the boughs of Jack's beanstalk;
was all that could be discerned of it under the stars。 In a moment
it would break out; a constellation of gas。 In another moment;
twenty rival chemists; on twenty rival beanstalks; came into
existence。 Then; the Furies would be seen; waving their lurid
torches up and down the confused perspectives of embankments and
arches … would be heard; too; wailing and shrieking。 Then; the
Station would be full of palpitating trains; as in the day; with
the heightening difference that they were not so clearly seen as in
the day; whereas the Station walls; starting forward under the gas;
like a hippopotamus's eyes; dazzled the human locomotives with the
sauce…bottle; the cheap music; the bedstead; the distorted range of
buildings where the patent safes are made; the gentleman in the
rain with the registered umbrella; the lady returning from the ball
with the registered respirator; and all their other embellishments。
And now; the human locomotives; creased as to their countenances
and purblind as to their eyes; would swarm forth in a heap;
addressing themselves to the mysterious urns and the much…injured
women; while the iron locomotives; dripping fire and water; shed
their steam about plentifully; making the dull oxen in their cages;
with heads depressed; and foam hanging from their mouths as their
red looks glanced fearfully at the surrounding terrors; seem as
though they had been drinking at half…frozen waters and were hung
with icicles。 Through the same steam would be caught glimpses of
their fellow…travellers; the sheep; getting their white kid faces
together; away from the bars; and stuffing the interstices with
trembling wool。 Also; down among the wheels; of the man with the
sledge…hammer; ringing the axles of the fast night…train; against
whom the oxen have a misgiving that he is the man with the pole…axe
who is to come by…and…by; and so the nearest of them try to get
back; and get a purchase for a thrust at him through the bars。
Suddenly; the bell would ring; the steam would stop with one hiss
and a yell; the chemists on the beanstalks would be busy; the
avenging Furies would bestir themselves; the fast night…train would
melt from eye and ear; the other trains going their ways more
slowly would be heard faintly rattling in the distance like old…
fashioned watches running down; the sauce…bottle and cheap music
retired from view; even the bedstead went to bed; and there was no
such visible thing as the Station to vex the cool wind in its
blowing; or perhaps the autumn lightning; as it found out the iron
rails。
The infection of the Station was this:… When it was in its raving
state; the Apprentices found it impossible to be there; without
labouring under the delusion that they were in a hurry。 To Mr。
Goodchild; whose ideas of idleness were so imperfect; this was no
unpleasant hallucination; and accordingly that gentleman went
through great exertions in yielding to it; and running up and down
the platform; jostling everybody; under the impression that he had
a highly important mission somewhere; and had not a moment to lose。
But; to Thomas Idle; this contagion was so very unacceptable an
incident of the situation; that he struck on the fourth day; and
requested to be moved。
'This place fills me with a dreadful sensation;' said Thomas; 'of
having something to do。 Remove me; Francis。'
'Where would you like to go next?' was the question of the ever…
engaging Goodchild。
'I have heard there is a good old Inn at Lancaster; established in
a fine old house: an Inn where they give you Bride…cake every day
after dinner;' said Thomas Idle。 'Let us eat Bride…cake without
the trouble of being married; or of knowing anybody in that
ridiculous dilemma。'
Mr。 Goodchild; with a lover's sigh; assented。 They departed from
the Station in a violent hurry (for which; it is unnecessary to
observe; there was not the least occasion); and were delivered at
the fine old house at Lancaster; on the same night。
It is Mr。 Goodchild's opinion; that if a visitor on his arrival at
Lancaster could be accommodated with a pole which would push the
opposite side of the street some yards farther off; it would be
better for all parties。 Protesting against being required to live
in a trench; and obliged to speculate all day upon what the people
can possibly be doing within a mysterious opposite window; which is
a shop…window to look at; but not a shop…window in respect of its
offering nothing for sale and declining to give any account
whatever of itself; Mr。 Goodchild concedes Lancaster to be a
pleasant place。 A place dropped in the midst of a charming
landscape; a place with a fine ancient fragment of castle; a place
of lovely walks; a place possessing staid old houses richly fitted
with old Honduras mahogany; which has grown so dark with time that
it seems to have got something of a retrospective mirror…quality
into itself; and to show the visitor; in the depth of its grain;
through all its polish; the hue of the wretched slaves who groaned
long ago under old Lancaster merchants。 And Mr。 Goodchild adds
that the stones of Lancaster do sometimes whisper; even yet; of
rich men passed away … upon whose great prosperity some of these
old doorways frowned sullen in the brightest weather … that their
slave…gain turned to curses; as the Arabian Wizard's money turned
to leaves; and that