lazy tour of two idle apprentices-第26节

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had　been　the　idlest　and　most　sluggish　of　his　race。　　Whatever

capacities　for　speed　he　might　possess　he　had　kept　so　strictly　to

himself；　that　no　amount　of　training　had　ever　brought　them　out。　　He

had　been　found　hopelessly　slow　as　a　racer；　and　hopelessly　lazy　as　a

hunter；　and　was　fit　for　nothing　but　a　quiet；　easy　life　of　it　with

an　old　gentleman　or　an　invalid。　　When　I　heard　this　account　of　the

horse；　I　don't　mind　confessing　that　my　heart　warmed　to　him。

Visions　of　Thomas　Idle　ambling　serenely　on　the　back　of　a　steed　as

lazy　as　himself；　presenting　to　a　restless　world　the　soothing　and

composite　spectacle　of　a　kind　of　sluggardly　Centaur；　too　peaceable

in　his　habits　to　alarm　anybody；　swam　attractively　before　my　eyes。

I　went　to　look　at　the　horse　in　the　stable。　　Nice　fellow！　he　was

fast　asleep　with　a　kitten　on　his　back。　　I　saw　him　taken　out　for　an

airing　by　the　groom。　　If　he　had　had　trousers　on　his　legs　I　should

not　have　known　them　from　my　own；　so　deliberately　were　they　lifted

up；　so　gently　were　they　put　down；　so　slowly　did　they　get　over　the

ground。　　From　that　moment　I　gratefully　accepted　my　friend's　offer。

I　went　home；　the　horse　followed　me　…　by　a　slow　train。　　Oh；　Francis；

how　devoutly　I　believed　in　that　horse　I　how　carefully　I　looked

after　all　his　little　comforts！　　I　had　never　gone　the　length　of

hiring　a　man…servant　to　wait　on　myself；　but　I　went　to　the　expense

of　hiring　one　to　wait　upon　him。　　If　I　thought　a　little　of　myself

when　I　bought　the　softest　saddle　that　could　be　had　for　money；　I

thought　also　of　my　horse。　　When　the　man　at　the　shop　afterwards

offered　me　spurs　and　a　whip；　I　turned　from　him　with　horror。　　When　I

sallied　out　for　my　first　ride；　I　went　purposely　unarmed　with　the

means　of　hurrying　my　steed。　　He　proceeded　at　his　own　pace　every

step　of　the　way；　and　when　he　stopped；　at　last；　and　blew　out　both

his　sides　with　a　heavy　sigh；　and　turned　his　sleepy　head　and　looked

behind　him；　I　took　him　home　again；　as　I　might　take　home　an　artless

child　who　said　to　me；　〃If　you　please；　sir；　I　am　tired。〃　　For　a　week

this　complete　harmony　between　me　and　my　horse　lasted　undisturbed。

At　the　end　of　that　time；　when　he　had　made　quite　sure　of　my　friendly

confidence　in　his　laziness；　when　he　had　thoroughly　acquainted

himself　with　all　the　little　weaknesses　of　my　seat　（and　their　name

is　Legion）；　the　smouldering　treachery　and　ingratitude　of　the　equine

nature　blazed　out　in　an　instant。　　Without　the　slightest　provocation

from　me；　with　nothing　passing　him　at　the　time　but　a　pony…chaise

driven　by　an　old　lady；　he　started　in　one　instant　from　a　state　of

sluggish　depression　to　a　state　of　frantic　high　spirits。　　He　kicked；

he　plunged；　he　shied；　he　pranced；　he　capered　fearfully。　　I　sat　on

him　as　long　as　I　could；　and　when　I　could　sit　no　longer；　I　fell　off。

No；　Francis！　this　is　not　a　circumstance　to　be　laughed　at；　but　to　be

wept　over。　　What　would　be　said　of　a　Man　who　had　requited　my

kindness　in　that　way？　　Range　over　all　the　rest　of　the　animal

creation；　and　where　will　you　find　me　an　instance　of　treachery　so

black　as　this？　　The　cow　that　kicks　down　the　milking…pail　may　have

some　reason　for　it；　she　may　think　herself　taxed　too　heavily　to

contribute　to　the　dilution　of　human　tea　and　the　greasing　of　human

bread。　　The　tiger　who　springs　out　on　me　unawares　has　the　excuse　of

being　hungry　at　the　time；　to　say　nothing　of　the　further

justification　of　being　a　total　stranger　to　me。　　The　very　flea　who

surprises　me　in　my　sleep　may　defend　his　act　of　assassination　on　the

ground　that　I；　in　my　turn；　am　always　ready　to　murder　him　when　I　am

awake。　　I　defy　the　whole　body　of　Natural　Historians　to　move　me；

logically；　off　the　ground　that　I　have　taken　in　regard　to　the　horse。

Receive　back　your　hat；　Brother　Francis；　and　go　to　the　chemist's；　if

you　please；　for　I　have　now　done。　　Ask　me　to　take　anything　you　like；

except　an　interest　in　the　Doncaster　races。　　Ask　me　to　look　at

anything　you　like；　except　an　assemblage　of　people　all　animated　by

feelings　of　a　friendly　and　admiring　nature　towards　the　horse。　　You

are　a　remarkably　well…informed　man；　and　you　have　heard　of　hermits。

Look　upon　me　as　a　member　of　that　ancient　fraternity；　and　you　will

sensibly　add　to　the　many　obligations　which　Thomas　Idle　is　proud　to

owe　to　Francis　Goodchild。'



Here；　fatigued　by　the　effort　of　excessive　talking；　disputatious

Thomas　waved　one　hand　languidly；　laid　his　head　back　on　the　sofa…

pillow；　and　calmly　closed　his　eyes。



At　a　later　period；　Mr。　Goodchild　assailed　his　travelling　companion

boldly　from　the　impregnable　fortress　of　common　sense。　　But　Thomas；

though　tamed　in　body　by　drastic　discipline；　was　still　as　mentally

unapproachable　as　ever　on　the　subject　of　his　favourite　delusion。





The　view　from　the　window　after　Saturday's　breakfast　is　altogether

changed。　　The　tradesmen's　families　have　all　come　back　again。　　The

serious　stationer's　young　woman　of　all　work　is　shaking　a　duster　out

of　the　window　of　the　combination　breakfast…room；　a　child　is　playing

with　a　doll；　where　Mr。　Thurtell's　hair　was　brushed；　a　sanitary

scrubbing　is　in　progress　on　the　spot　where　Mr。　Palmer's　braces　were

put　on。　　No　signs　of　the　Races　are　in　the　streets；　but　the　tramps

and　the　tumble…down…carts　and　trucks　laden　with　drinking…forms　and

tables　and　remnants　of　booths；　that　are　making　their　way　out　of　the

town　as　fast　as　they　can。　　The　Angel；　which　has　been　cleared　for

action　all　the　week；　already　begins　restoring　every　neat　and

comfortable　article　of　furniture　to　its　own　neat　and　comfortable

place。　　The　Angel's　daughters　（pleasanter　angels　Mr。　Idle　and　Mr。

Goodchild　never　saw；　nor　more　quietly　expert　in　their　business；　nor

more　superior　to　the　common　vice　of　being　above　it）；　have　a　little

time　to　rest；　and　to　air　their　cheerful　faces　among　the　flowers　in

the　yard。　　It　is　market…day。　　The　market　looks　unusually　natural；

comfortable；　and　wholesome；　the　market…people　too。　　The　town　seems

quite　restored；　when；　hark！　a　metallic　bray　…　The　Gong…donkey！



The　wretched　animal　has　not　cleared　off　with　the　rest；　but　is　here；

under　the　window。　　How　much　more　inconceivably　drunk　now；　how　much

more　begrimed　of　paw；　how　much　more　tight　of　calico　hide；　how　much

more　stained　and　daubed　and　dirty　and　dunghilly；　from　his　horrible

broom　to　his　tender　toes；　who　shall　say！　　He　cannot　even　shake　the

bray　out　of　himself　now；　without　laying　his　cheek　so　near　to　the

mud　of　the　street；　that　he　pitches　over　after　delivering　it。　　Now；

prone　in　the　mud；　and　now　backing　himself　up　against　shop…windows；

the　owners　of　which　come　out　in　terror　to　remove　him；　now；　in　the

drinking…shop；　and　now　in　the　tobacconist's；　where　he　goes　to　buy

tobacco；　and　makes　his　way　into　the　parlour；　and　where　he　gets　a

cigar；　which　in　half…a…minute　he　forgets　to　smoke；　now　dancing；　now

dozing；　now　cursing；　and　now　complimenting　My　Lord；　the　Colonel；

the　Noble　Captain；　and　Your　Honourable　Worship；　the　Gong…donkey

kicks　up　his　heels；　occasionally　braying；　until　suddenly；　he

beholds　the　dearest　friend　he　has　in　the　world　coming　down　the

street。



The　dearest　friend　the　Gong…donkey　has　in　the　world；　is　a　sort　of

Jackall；　in　a　dull；　mangy；　black　hide；　of　such　small　pieces　that　it

looks　as　if　it　were　made　of　blacking　bottles　turned　inside　out　and

cobbled　together。　　The　dearest　friend　in　the　world　（inconceivably

drunk　too）　advances　at　the　Gong…donkey；　with　a　hand　on　each　thigh；

in　a　series　of　humorous　springs　and　stops；　wagging　his　head　as　he

comes。　　The　Gong…donkey　regarding　him　with　attention　and　with　the

warmest　affection；　suddenly　perceives　that　he　is　the　greatest　enemy

he　has　in　the　world；　and　hits　him　hard　in　the　countenance。　　The

astonished　Jackall　closes　with　the　Donkey；　and　they　roll　over　and

over　in　the　mud；　pummelling　one　another。　　A　Police　Inspector；

supernaturally　endowed　with　patience；　who　has　long　been　looking　on

from　the　Guildhall…steps；　says；　to　a　myrmidon；　'Lock　'em　up！　　Bring

'em　in！'



Appropriate　finish　to　the　Grand　Race…Week。　　The　Gong…donkey；

captive　and　last　trace　of　it；　conveyed　into　limbo；　where　they

cannot　do　better　than　keep　him　until　next　Race…Week。　　The　Jackall

is　wanted　too；　and　is　much　looked　for；　over　the　way　and　up　and

down。　　But；　having　had　the　good　fortune　to　be　undermost　at　the　time

of　the　capture；　he　has　vanished　into　air。



On　Saturday　afternoon；　Mr。　Goodchild　walks　out　and　looks　at　the

Course。　　It　is　quite　deserted；　heaps　of　broken　crockery　and　bottles

are　raised　to　its　memory；　and　correct　cards　and　other　fragments　of

paper　are　blowing　about　it；　as　the　regulation　little　paper…books；

carried　by　the　French　soldiers　in　their　breasts；　were　seen；　soon

after　the　battle　was　fought；　blowing　idly　about　the　plains　of

Waterloo。



Where　will　these　present　idle　leaves　be　blown　by　the　idle　winds；

and　where　will　the　last　of　them　be　one　day　lost　and　forgotten？　　An

idle　question；　and　an　idle　thought；　and　with　it　Mr。　Idle　fitly

makes　his　bow；　and　Mr。　Goodchild　his；　and　thus　ends　the　Lazy　Tour