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第49节

classic mystery and detective stories-第49节

小说: classic mystery and detective stories 字数: 每页4000字

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that which is the cause or the effect of simple jollity。  In a

word; I thought I beheld RELIGION mixing in the dance; but; as I

had never seen her so engaged; I should have looked upon it now as

one of the illusions of an imagination; which is eternally

misleading me; had not the old man; as soon as the dance ended;

said that this was their constant way; and that all his life long

he had made it a rule; after supper was over; to call out his

family to dance and rejoice; believing; he said; that a cheerful

and contented mind was the best sort of thanks to heaven that an

illiterate peasant could pay



〃Or a learned prelate either;〃 said I。



When you have gained the top of Mount Taurira; you run presently

down to Lyons。  Adieu then to all rapid movements!  It is a journey

of caution; and it fares better with sentiments not to be in a

hurry with them; so I contracted with a volturin to take his time

with a couple of mules and convey me in my own chaise safe to Turin

through Savoy。



Poor; patient; quiet; honest people; fear not!  Your poverty; the

treasury of your simple virtues; will not be envied you by the

world; nor will your values be invaded by it。  Nature; in the midst

of thy disorders; thou art still friendly to the scantiness thou

hast created; with all thy great works about thee little hast thou

left to give; either to the scythe or to the sickle; but to that

little thou grantest safety and protection; and sweet are the

dwellings which stand so sheltered!







William Makepeace Thackeray





On Being Found Out





At the close (let us say) of Queen Anne's reign; when I was a boy

at a private and preparatory school for young gentlemen; I remember

the wiseacre of a master ordering us all; one night; to march into

a little garden at the back of the house; and thence to proceed one

by one into a tool or hen house (I was but a tender little thing

just put into short clothes; and can't exactly say whether the

house was for tools or hens); and in that house to put our hands

into a sack which stood on a bench; a candle burning beside it。  I

put my hand into the sack。  My hand came out quite black。  I went

and joined the other boys in the schoolroom; and all their hands

were black too。



By reason of my tender age (and there are some critics who; I hope;

will be satisfied by my acknowledging that I am a hundred and

fifty…six next birthday) I could not understand what was the

meaning of this night excursionthis candle; this tool house; this

bag of soot。  I think we little boys were taken out of our sleep to

be brought to the ordeal。  We came; then; and showed our little

hands to the master; washed them or notmost probably; I should

say; notand so went bewildered back to bed。



Something had been stolen in the school that day; and Mr。 Wiseacre

having read in a book of an ingenious method of finding out a thief

by making him put his hand into a sack (which; if guilty; the rogue

would shirk from doing); all we boys were subjected to the trial。

Goodness knows what the lost object was; or who stole it。  We all

had black hands to show the master。  And the thief; whoever he was;

was not Found Out that time。



I wonder if the rascal is alivean elderly scoundrel he must be by

this time; and a hoary old hypocrite; to whom an old schoolfellow

presents his kindest regardsparenthetically remarking what a

dreadful place that private school was; cold; chilblains; bad

dinners; not enough victuals; and caning awful!Are you alive

still; I say; you nameless villain; who escaped discovery on that

day of crime?  I hope you have escaped often since; old sinner。

Ah; what a lucky thing it is; for you and me; my man; that we are

NOT found out in all our peccadilloes; and that our backs can slip

away from the master and the cane!



Just consider what life would be; if every rogue was found out; and

flogged coram populo!  What a butchery; what an indecency; what an

endless swishing of the rod!  Don't cry out about my misanthropy。

My good friend Mealymouth; I will trouble you to tell me; do you go

to church?  When there; do you say; or do you not; that you are a

miserable sinner; and saying so do you believe or disbelieve it?

If you are a M。 S。; don't you deserve correction; and aren't you

grateful if you are to be let off?  I say again what a blessed

thing it is that we are not all found out!



Just picture to yourself everybody who does wrong being found out;

and punished accordingly。  Fancy all the boys in all the school

being whipped; and then the assistants; and then the headmaster

(Dr。 Badford let us call him)。  Fancy the provost marshal being

tied up; having previously superintended the correction of the

whole army。  After the young gentlemen have had their turn for the

faulty exercises; fancy Dr。 Lincolnsinn being taken up for certain

faults in HIS Essay and Review。  After the clergyman has cried his

peccavi; suppose we hoist up a bishop; and give him a couple of

dozen!  (I see my Lord Bishop of Double…Gloucester sitting in a

very uneasy posture on his right reverend bench。)  After we have

cast off the bishop; what are we to say to the Minister who

appointed him?  My Lord Cinqwarden; it is painful to have to use

personal correction to a boy of your age; but really 。 。 。 Siste

tandem carnifex!  The butchery is too horrible。  The hand drops

powerless; appalled at the quantity of birch which it must cut and

brandish。  I am glad we are not all found out; I say again; and

protest; my dear brethren; against our having our deserts。



To fancy all men found out and punished is bad enough; but imagine

all the women found out in the distinguished social circle in which

you and I have the honor to move。  Is it not a mercy that a many of

these fair criminals remain unpunished and undiscovered!  There is

Mrs。 Longbow; who is forever practicing; and who shoots poisoned

arrows; too; when you meet her you don't call her liar; and charge

her with the wickedness she has done and is doing。  There is Mrs。

Painter; who passes for a most respectable woman; and a model in

society。  There is no use in saying what you really know regarding

her and her goings on。  There is Diana Hunterwhat a little

haughty prude it is; and yet WE know stories about her which are

not altogether edifying。  I say it is best for the sake of the

good; that the bad should not all be found out。  You don't want

your children to know the history of that lady in the next box; who

is so handsome; and whom they admire so。  Ah me; what would life be

if we were all found out and punished for all our faults?  Jack

Ketch would be in permanence; and then who would hang Jack Ketch?



They talk of murderers being pretty certainly found out。  Psha!  I

have heard an authority awfully competent vow and declare that

scores and hundreds of murders are committed; and nobody is the

wiser。  That terrible man mentioned one or two ways of committing

murder; which he maintained were quite common; and were scarcely

ever found out。  A man; for instance; comes home to his wife;

and 。 。 。 but I pauseI know that this Magazine has a very large

circulation。*  Hundreds and hundreds of thousandswhy not say a

million of people at once?well; say a million; read it。  And

among these countless readers; I might be teaching some monster how

to make away with his wife without being found out; some fiend of a

woman how to destroy her dear husband。  I will NOT then tell this

easy and simple way of murder; as communicated to me by a most

respectable party in the confidence of private intercourse。

Suppose some gentle reader were to try this most simple and easy

receiptit seems to me almost infallibleand come to grief in

consequence; and be found out and hanged?  Should I ever pardon

myself for having been the means of doing injury to a single one of

our esteemed subscribers?  The prescription whereof I speakthat

is to say; whereof I DON'T speakshall be buried in this bosom。

No; I am a humane man。  I am not one of your Bluebeards to go and

say to my wife; 〃My dear! I am going away for a few days to

Brighton。  Here are all the keys of the house。  You may open every

door and closet; except the one at the end of the oak room opposite

the fireplace; with the little bronze Shakespeare on the

mantelpiece (or what not)。〃  I don't say this to a womanunless;

to be sure; I want to get rid of herbecause; after such a

caution; I know she'll peep into the closet。  I say nothing about

the closet at all。  I keep the key in my pocket; and a being whom I

love; but who; as I know; has many weaknesses; out of harm's way。

You toss up your head; dear angel; drub on the ground with your

lovely little feet; on the table with your sweet rosy fingers; and

cry; 〃Oh; sneerer!  You don't know the depth of woman's feeling;

the lofty scorn of all deceit; the entire absence of mean curiosity

in the sex; or never; never would you lib

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