the bottle neck-第2节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


new　large　bottle　was　to　go；　not　the　little　one：　so　the　bottle　once

more　started　on　its　travels。　It　was　taken　on　board　（for　Peter　Jensen

was　one　of　the　crew）　the　very　same　ship　in　which　the　young　mate　was　to

sail。　But　the　mate　did　not　see　the　bottle：　indeed；　if　he　had　he

would　not　have　known　it；　or　supposed　it　was　the　one　out　of　which

they　had　drunk　to　the　felicity　of　the　betrothed　and　to　the　prospect　of

a　marriage　on　his　own　happy　return。　Certainly　the　bottle　no　longer

poured　forth　wine；　but　it　contained　something　quite　as　good；　and　so　it

happened　that　whenever　Peter　Jensen　brought　it　out；　his　messmates　gave

it　the　name　of　〃the　apothecary；〃　for　it　contained　the　best　medicine　to

cure　the　stomach；　and　he　gave　it　out　quite　willingly　as　long　as　a　drop

remained。　Those　were　happy　days；　and　the　bottle　would　sing　when　rubbed

with　a　cork；　and　it　was　called　a　great　lark；〃　〃Peter　Jensen's　lark。〃

　　　　Long　days　and　months　rolled　by；　during　which　the　bottle　stood

empty　in　a　corner；　when　a　storm　arose…　whether　on　the　passage　out　or

home　it　could　not　tell；　for　it　had　never　been　ashore。　It　was　a

terrible　storm；　great　waves　arose；　darkly　heaving　and　tossing　the

vessel　to　and　fro。　The　main　mast　was　split　asunder；　the　ship　sprang

a　leak；　and　the　pumps　became　useless；　while　all　around　was　black　as

night。　At　the　last　moment；　when　the　ship　was　sinking；　the　young　mate

wrote　on　a　piece　of　paper；　〃We　are　going　down：　God's　will　be　done。〃

Then　he　wrote　the　name　of　his　betrothed；　his　own　name；　and　that　of　the

ship。　Then　he　put　the　leaf　in　an　empty　bottle　that　happened　to　be　at

hand；　corked　it　down　tightly；　and　threw　it　into　the　foaming　sea。　He

knew　not　that　it　was　the　very　same　bottle　from　which　the　goblet　of　joy

and　hope　had　once　been　filled　for　him；　and　now　it　was　tossing　on　the

waves　with　his　last　greeting；　and　a　message　from　the　dead。　The　ship

sank；　and　the　crew　sank　with　her；　but　the　bottle　flew　on　like　a

bird；　for　it　bore　within　it　a　loving　letter　from　a　loving　heart。　And

as　the　sun　rose　and　set；　the　bottle　felt　as　at　the　time　of　its　first

existence；　when　in　the　heated　glowing　stove　it　had　a　longing　to　fly

away。　It　outlived　the　storms　and　the　calm；　it　struck　against　no　rocks；

was　not　devoured　by　sharks；　but　drifted　on　for　more　than　a　year；

sometimes　towards　the　north；　sometimes　towards　the　south；　just　as

the　current　carried　it。　It　was　in　all　other　ways　its　own　master；　but

even　of　that　one　may　get　tired。　The　written　leaf；　the　last　farewell　of

the　bridegroom　to　his　bride；　would　only　bring　sorrow　when　once　it

reached　her　hands；　but　where　were　those　hands；　so　soft　and　delicate；

which　had　once　spread　the　table…cloth　on　the　fresh　grass　in　the

green　wood；　on　the　day　of　her　betrothal？　Ah；　yes！　where　was　the

furrier's　daughter？　and　where　was　the　land　which　might　lie　nearest

to　her　home？

　　　　The　bottle　knew　not；　it　travelled　onward　and　onward；　and　at　last

all　this　wandering　about　became　wearisome；　at　all　events　it　was　not

its　usual　occupation。　But　it　had　to　travel；　till　at　length　it

reached　land…　a　foreign　country。　Not　a　word　spoken　in　this　country

could　the　bottle　understand；　it　was　a　language　it　had　never　before

heard；　and　it　is　a　great　loss　not　to　be　able　to　understand　a　language。

The　bottle　was　fished　out　of　the　water；　and　examined　on　all　sides。　The

little　letter　contained　within　it　was　discovered；　taken　out；　and

turned　and　twisted　in　every　direction；　but　the　people　could　not

understand　what　was　written　upon　it。　They　could　be　quite　sure　that　the

bottle　had　been　thrown　overboard　from　a　vessel；　and　that　something

about　it　was　written　on　this　paper：　but　what　was　written？　that　was　the

question；…　so　the　paper　was　put　back　into　the　bottle；　and　then　both

were　put　away　in　a　large　cupboard　of　one　of　the　great　houses　of　the

town。　Whenever　any　strangers　arrived；　the　paper　was　taken　out　and

turned　over　and　over；　so　that　the　address；　which　was　only　written　in

pencil；　became　almost　illegible；　and　at　last　no　one　could

distinguish　any　letters　on　it　at　all。　For　a　whole　year　the　bottle

remained　standing　in　the　cupboard；　and　then　it　was　taken　up　to　the

loft；　where　it　soon　became　covered　with　dust　and　cobwebs。　Ah！　how

often　then　it　thought　of　those　better　days…　of　the　times　when　in　the

fresh；　green　wood；　it　had　poured　forth　rich　wine；　or；　while　rocked

by　the　swelling　waves；　it　had　carried　in　its　bosom　a　secret；　a　letter；

a　last　parting　sigh。　For　full　twenty　years　it　stood　in　the　loft；　and

it　might　have　stayed　there　longer　but　that　the　house　was　going　to　be

rebuilt。　The　bottle　was　discovered　when　the　roof　was　taken　off；　they

talked　about　it；　but　the　bottle　did　not　understand　what　they　said…　a

language　is　not　to　be　learnt　by　living　in　a　loft；　even　for　twenty

years。　〃If　I　had　been　down　stairs　in　the　room；〃　thought　the　bottle；　〃I

might　have　learnt　it。〃　It　was　now　washed　and　rinsed；　which　process　was

really　quite　necessary；　and　afterwards　it　looked　clean　and

transparent；　and　felt　young　again　in　its　old　age；　but　the　paper

which　it　had　carried　so　faithfully　was　destroyed　in　the　washing。

They　filled　the　bottle　with　seeds；　though　it　scarcely　knew　what　had

been　placed　in　it。　Then　they　corked　it　down　tightly；　and　carefully

wrapped　it　up。　There　not　even　the　light　of　a　torch　or　lantern　could

reach　it；　much　less　the　brightness　of　the　sun　or　moon。　〃And　yet；〃

thought　the　bottle；　〃men　go　on　a　journey　that　they　may　see　as　much

as　possible；　and　I　can　see　nothing。〃　However；　it　did　something　quite

as　important；　it　travelled　to　the　place　of　its　destination；　and　was

unpacked。

　　　　〃What　trouble　they　have　taken　with　that　bottle　over　yonder！〃

said　one；　and　very　likely　it　is　broken　after　all。〃　But　the　bottle

was　not　broken；　and；　better　still；　it　understood　every　word　that　was

said：　this　language　it　had　heard　at　the　furnaces　and　at　the　wine

merchant's；　in　the　forest　and　on　the　ship；…　it　was　the　only　good　old

language　it　could　understand。　It　had　returned　home；　and　the　language

was　as　a　welcome　greeting。　For　very　joy；　it　felt　ready　to　jump　out

of　people's　hands；　and　scarcely　noticed　that　its　cork　had　been

drawn；　and　its　contents　emptied　out；　till　it　found　itself　carried　to　a

cellar；　to　be　left　there　and　forgotten。　〃There's　no　place　like　home；

even　if　it's　a　cellar。〃　It　never　occurred　to　him　to　think　that　he

might　lie　there　for　years；　he　felt　so　comfortable。　For　many　long　years

he　remained　in　the　cellar；　till　at　last　some　people　came　to　carry　away

the　bottles；　and　ours　amongst　the　number。

　　　　Out　in　the　garden　there　was　a　great　festival。　Brilliant　lamps　hung

in　festoons　from　tree　to　tree；　and　paper　lanterns；　through　which　the

light　shone　till　they　looked　like　transparent　tulips。　It　was　a

beautiful　evening；　and　the　weather　mild　and　clear。　The　stars　twinkled；

and　the　new　moon；　in　the　form　of　a　crescent；　was　surrounded　by　the

shadowy　disc　of　the　whole　moon；　and　looked　like　a　gray　globe　with　a

golden　rim：　it　was　a　beautiful　sight　for　those　who　had　good　eyes。

The　illumination　extended　even　to　the　most　retired　of　the　garden

walks；　at　least　not　so　retired　that　any　one　need　lose　himself　there。

In　the　borders　were　placed　bottles；　each　containing　a　light；　and　among

them　the　bottle　with　which　we　are　acquainted；　and　whose　fate　it　was；

one　day；　to　be　only　a　bottle　neck；　and　to　serve　as　a　water…glass　to

a　bird's…cage。　Everything　here　appeared　lovely　to　our　bottle；　for　it

was　again　in　the　green　wood；　amid　joy　and　feasting；　again　it　heard

music　and　song；　and　the　noise　and　murmur　of　a　crowd；　especially　in

that　part　of　the　garden　where　the　lamps　blazed；　and　the　paper　lanterns

displayed　their　brilliant　colors。　It　stood　in　a　distant　walk

certainly；　but　a　place　pleasant　for　contemplation；　and　it　carried　a

light；　and　was　at　once　useful　and　ornamental。　In　such　an　hour　it　is

easy　to　forget　that　one　has　spent　twenty　years　in　a　loft；　and　a　good

thing　it　is　to　be　able　to　do　so。　Close　before　the　bottle　passed　a

single　pair；　like　the　bridal　pair…　the　mate　and　the　furrier's

daughter…　who　had　so　long　ago　wandered　in　the　wood。　It　seemed　to　the

bottle　as　if　he　were　living　that　time　over　again。　Not　only　the

guests　but　other　people　were　walking　in　the　garden；　who　were　allowed

to　witness　the　splendor　and　the　festivities。　Among　the　latter　came

an　old　maid；　who　seemed　to　be　quite　alone　in　the　world。　She　was

thinking；　like　the　bottle；　of　the　green　wood；　and　of　a　young　betrothed

pair；　who　were　closely　connected　with　herself；　she　was　thinking　of

that　hour；　the　happiest　of　her　life；　in　which　she　had　taken　part；　when

she　had　herself　been　one　of　that　betrothed　pair；　such　hours　are

never　to　be　forgotten；　let　a　maiden　be　as　old　as　she　may。　But　she

did　not　recognize　the　bottle；　neither　did　the　bottle　notice　the　old

maid。　And　so　we　often　pass　each　other　in　the　world　when　we　meet；　as

did　these　two；　even　while　together　in　the　same　town。

　　　　The　bottle　was　taken　from　the　garden；　and　again　sent　to　a　wine

merchant；　where　it　was　once　more　filled　with　wine；　and　sold　to　an

aeronaut；　who　was　to　make　an　ascent　in　his　balloon　on　the　following

Sunday。　A　great　crowd　assembled　to　witness　the　sight；　military　music