idle ideas in 1905-第10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！


photo　frames　and　Japanese　fans。　　I　did　not　want　to　make　a　mess。　　I
removed　the　house　neatly　into　a　dust…pan；　and　wiped　the　street　clear
of　every　trace　of　it。　　I　had　just　put　back　the　ladder　when　Mrs。
Sparrow　returned　with　a　piece　of　pink　cotton…wool　in　her　mouth。　　That
was　her　idea　of　a　colour　scheme：　　apple…blossom　pink　and　Reckitt's
blue　side　by　side。　　She　dropped　her　wool　and　sat　on　the　waterspout；
and　tried　to　understand　things。

〃Number　one；　number　two；　number　four；　where　the　blazes〃sparrows　are
essentially　common；　and　the　women　are　as　bad　as　the　men〃is　number
three？〃

Mr。　Sparrow　came　up　from　behind；　over　the　roof。　　He　was　carrying　a
piece　of　yellow…fluff；　part　of　a　lamp…shade；　as　far　as　I　could　judge。

〃Move　yourself；〃　he　said；　〃what's　the　sense　of　sitting　there　in　the
rain？〃

〃I　went　out　just　for　a　moment；〃　replied　Mrs。　Sparrow；　〃I　could　not
have　been　gone；　no；　not　a　couple　of　minutes。　　When　I　came　back〃

〃Oh；　get　indoors；〃　said　Mr。　Sparrow；　〃talk　about　it　there。〃

〃It's　what　I'm　telling　you；〃　continued　Mrs。　Sparrow；　〃if　you　would
only　listen。　　There　isn't　any　door；　there　isn't　any　house〃

〃Isn't　any〃　Mr。　Sparrow；　holding　on　to　the　rim　of　the　spout；　turned
himself　topsy…turvy　and　surveyed　the　street。　　From　where　I　was
standing　behind　the　laurel　bushes　I　could　see　nothing　but　his　back。

He　stood　up　again；　looking　angry　and　flushed。

〃What　have　you　done　with　the　house？　　Can't　I　turn　my　back　a　minute〃

〃I　ain't　done　nothing　with　it。　　As　I　keep　on　telling　you；　I　had　only
just　gone〃

〃Oh；　bother　where　you　had　gone。　　Where's　the　darned　house　gone？
that's　what　I　want　to　know。〃

They　looked　at　one　another。　　If　ever　astonishment　was　expressed　in
the　attitude　of　a　bird　it　was　told　by　the　tails　of　those　two
sparrows。　　They　whispered　wickedly　together。　　The　idea　occurred　to
them　that　by　force　or　cunning　they　might　perhaps　obtain　possession　of
one　of　the　other　nests。　　But　all　the　other　nests　were　occupied；　and
even　gentle　Jenny　Swallow；　once　in　her　own　home　with　the　children
round　about　her；　is　not　to　be　trifled　with。　　Mr。　Sparrow　called　at
number　two；　put　his　head　in　at　the　door；　and　then　returned　to　the
waterspout。

〃Lady　says　we　don't　live　there；〃　he　explained　to　Mrs。　Sparrow。　　There
was　silence　for　a　while。

〃Not　what　I　call　a　classy　street；〃　commented　Mrs。　Sparrow。

〃If　it　were　not　for　that　terrible　tired　feeling　of　mine；〃　said　Mr。
Sparrow；　〃blame　if　I　wouldn't　build　a　house　of　my　own。〃

〃Perhaps；〃　said　Mrs。　Sparrow；　〃I　have　heard　it　said　that　a　little
bit　of　work；　now　and　then；　does　you　good。〃

〃All　sorts　of　wild　ideas　about　in　the　air　nowadays；〃　said　Mr。
Sparrow；　〃it　don't　do　to　listen　to　everybody。〃

〃And　it　don't　do　to　sit　still　and　do　nothing　neither；〃　snapped　Mrs。
Sparrow。　　〃I　don't　want　to　have　to　forget　I'm　a　lady；　butwell；　any
man　who　was　a　man　would　see　things　for　himself。〃

〃Why　did　I　every　marry？〃　retorted　Mr。　Sparrow。

They　flew　away　together；　quarrelling。



DO　WRITERS　WRITE　TOO　MUCH？



On　a　newspaper　placard；　the　other　day；　I　saw　announced　a　new　novel　by
a　celebrated　author。　　I　bought　a　copy　of　the　paper；　and　turned
eagerly　to　the　last　page。　　I　was　disappointed　to　find　that　I　had
missed　the　first　six　chapters。　　The　story　had　commenced　the　previous
Saturday；　this　was　Friday。　　I　say　I　was　disappointed　and　so　I　was；　at
first。　　But　my　disappointment　did　not　last　long。　　The　bright　and
intelligent　sub…editor；　according　to　the　custom　now　in　vogue；　had
provided　me　with　a　short　synopsis　of　those　first　six　chapters；　so
that　without　the　trouble　of　reading　them　I　knew　what　they　were　all
about。

〃The　first　instalment；〃　I　learned；　〃introduces　the　reader　to　a
brilliant　and　distinguished　company；　assembled　in　the　drawing…room　of
Lady　Mary's　maisonette　in　Park　Street。　　Much　smart　talk　is　indulged
in。〃

I　know　that　〃smart　talk〃　so　well。　　Had　I　not　been　lucky　enough　to
miss　that　first　chapter　I　should　have　had　to　listen　to　it　once　again。
Possibly；　here　and　there；　it　might　have　been　new　to　me；　but　it　would
have　read；　I　know；　so　very　like　the　old。　　A　dear；　sweet　white…haired
lady　of　my　acquaintance　is　never　surprised　at　anything　that　happens。

〃Something　very　much　of　the　same　kind　occurred；〃　she　will　remember；
〃one　winter　when　we　were　staying　in　Brighton。　　Only　on　that　occasion
the　man's　name；　I　think；　was　Robinson。〃

We　do　not　live　new　storiesnor　write　them　either。　　The　man's　name　in
the　old　story　was　Robinson；　we　alter　it　to　Jones。　　It　happened；　in
the　old　forgotten　tale；　at　Brighton；　in　the　winter　time；　we　change　it
to　Eastbourne；　in　the　spring。　　It　is　new　and　originalto　those　who
have　not　heard　〃something　very　like　it〃　once　before。

〃Much　smart　talk　is　indulged　in；〃　so　the　sub…editor　has　explained。
There　is　absolutely　no　need　to　ask　for　more　than　that。　　There　is　a
Duchess　who　says　improper　things。　　Once　she　used　to　shock　me。　　But　I
know　her　now。　　She　is　really　a　nice　woman；　she　doesn't　mean　them。
And　when　the　heroine　is　in　trouble；　towards　the　middle　of　the　book；
she　is　just　as　amusing　on　the　side　of　virtue。　　Then　there　is　a
younger　lady　whose　speciality　is　proverbs。　　Apparently　whenever　she
hears　a　proverb　she　writes　it　down　and　studies　it　with　the　idea　of
seeing　into　how　many　different　forms　it　can　be　twisted。　　It　looks
clever；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　it　is　extremely　easy。

Be　virtuous　and　you　will　be　happy。

She　jots　down　all　the　possible　variations：　　Be　virtuous　and　you　will
be　unhappy。

〃Too　simple　that　one；〃　she　tells　herself。　　Be　virtuous　and　your
friends　will　be　happy　if　you　are　not。

〃Better；　but　not　wicked　enough。　　Let　us　think　again。　　Be　happy　and
people　will　jump　to　the　conclusion　that　you　are　virtuous。

〃That's　good；　I'll　try　that　one　at　to…morrow's　party。〃

She　is　a　painstaking　lady。　　One　feels　that；　better　advised；　she　might
have　been　of　use　in　the　world。

There　is　likewise　a　disgraceful　old　Peer　who　tells　naughty　stories；
but　who　is　good　at　heart；　and　one　person　so　very　rude　that　the　wonder
is　who　invited　him。

Occasionally　a　slangy　girl　is　included；　and　a　clergyman；　who　takes
the　heroine　aside　and　talks　sense　to　her；　flavoured　with　epigram。
All　these　people　chatter　a　mixture　of　Lord　Chesterfield　and　Oliver
Wendell　Holmes；　of　Heine；　Voltaire；　Madame　de　Stael；　and　the　late
lamented　H。　J。　Byron。　　〃How　they　do　it　beats　me；〃　as　I　once　overheard
at　a　music　hall　a　stout　lady　confess　to　her　friend　while　witnessing
the　performance　of　a　clever　troup；　styling　themselves　〃The　Boneless
Wonders　of　the　Universe。〃

The　synopsis　added　that：　　〃Ursula　Bart；　a　charming　and
unsophisticated　young　American　girl　possessed　of　an　elusive
expression　makes　her　first　acquaintance　with　London　society。〃

Here　you　have　a　week's　unnecessary　work　on　the　part　of　the　author
boiled　down　to　its　essentials。　　She　was　young。　　One　hardly　expects　an
elderly　heroine。　　The　〃young〃　might　have　been　dispensed　with；
especially　seeing　it　is　told　us　that　she　was　a　girl。　　But　maybe　this
is　carping。　　There　are　young　girls　and　old　girls。　　Perhaps　it　is　as
well　to　have　it　in　black　and　white；　she　was　young。　　She　was　an
American　young　girl。　　There　is　but　one　American　young　girl　in　English
fiction。　　We　know　by　heart　the　unconventional　things　that　she　will
do；　the　startlingly　original　things　that　she　will　say；　the　fresh
illuminating　thoughts　that　will　come　to　her　as；　clad　in　a　loose　robe
of　some　soft　clinging　stuff；　she　sits　before　the　fire；　in　the
solitude　of　her　own　room。

To　complete　her　she　had　an　〃elusive　expression。〃　　The　days　when　we
used　to　catalogue　the　heroine's　〃points〃　are　past。　　Formerly　it　was
possible。　　A　man　wrote　perhaps　some　half…a…dozen　novels　during　the
whole　course　of　his　career。　　He　could　have　a　dark　girl　for　the　first；
a　light　girl　for　the　second；　sketch　a　merry　little　wench　for　the
third；　and　draw　you　something　stately　for　the　fourth。　　For　the
remaining　two　he　could　go　abroad。　　Nowadays；　when　a　man　turns　out　a
novel　and　six　short　stories　once　a　year；　description　has　to　be
dispensed　with。　　It　is　not　the　writer's　fault。　　There　is　not
sufficient　variety　in　the　sex。　　We　used　to　introduce　her　thus：

〃Imagine　to　yourself；　dear　reader；　an　exquisite　and　gracious　creature
of　five　feet　three。　　Her　golden　hair　of　that　peculiar　shade〃here
would　follow　directions　enabling　the　reader　to　work　it　out　for
himself。　　He　was　to　pour　some　particular　wine　into　some　particular
sort　of　glass；　and　wave　it　about　before　some　particular　sort　of　a
light。　　Or　he　was　to　get　up　at　five　o'clock　on　a　March　morning　and　go
into　a　wood。　　In　this　way　he　could　satisfy　himself　as　to　the
particular　shade　of　gold　the　heroine's　hair　might　happen　to　be。　　If
he　were　a　careless　or　lazy　reader　he　could　save　himself　time　and
trouble　by　taking　the　author's　word　for　it。　　Many　of　them　did。

〃Her　eyes！〃　　They　were　invariably　deep　and　liquid。　　They　had　to　be
pretty　deep　to　hold　all　the　odds　and　ends　that　were　hidden　in　them；
sunlight　and　shadow；　mischief；　unsuspected　possibilities；　assorted
emotions；　strange　wild　yearnings。　　Anything　we　didn't　know　where　else
to　put　we　said　was　hidden　in　her　eyes。

〃Her　nose！〃　　You　could　have　made　it　for　yourself　out　of　a　pen'orth　of
putty　after　reading　our　description　of　it。

〃Her　fo