silas marner(织工马南)-第42节
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was the lesser risk to incur； and on this occasion Silas； making
himself as clean and tidy as he could； appeared for the first time
within the church； and shared in the observances held sacred by
his neighbours。 He was quite unable； by means of anything he
heard or saw； to identify the Raveloe religion with his old faith； if
he could at any time in his previous life have done so； it must have
been by the aid of a strong feeling ready to vibrate with sympathy；
rather than by a comparison of phrases and ideas； and now for
long years that feeling had been dormant。 He had no distinct idea
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about the baptism and the church…going； except that Dolly had
said it was for the good of the child； and in this way； as the weeks
grew to months； the child created fresh and fresh links between
his life and the lives from which he had hitherto shrunk
continually into narrower isolation。 Unlike the gold which needed
nothing； and must be worshipped in close…locked solitude—which
was hidden away from the daylight； was deaf to the song of birds；
and started to no human tones—Eppie was a creature of endless
claims and ever…growing desires； seeking and loving sunshine and
living sounds and living movements； making trial of everything；
with trust in new joy； and stirring the human kindness in all eyes
that looked on her。 The gold had kept his thoughts in an ever…
repeated circle； leading to nothing beyond itself； but Eppie was an
object compacted of changes and hopes that forced his thoughts
onward； and carried them far away from their old eager pacing
towards the same blank limit—carried them away to the new
things that would come with the coming years； when Eppie would
have learned to understand how her father Silas cared for her； and
made him look for images of that time in the ties and charities that
bound together the families of his neighbours。 The gold had asked
that he should sit weaving longer and longer； deafened and
blinded more and more to all things except the monotony of his
loom and the repetition of his web； but Eppie called him away
from his weaving； and made him think all its pauses a holiday；
reawakening his senses with her fresh life； even to the old winter…
flies that came crawling forth in the early spring sunshine； and
warming him into joy because she had joy。
And when the sunshine grew strong and lasting； so that the
buttercups were thick in the meadows； Silas might be seen in the
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sunny midday； or in the late afternoon when the shadows were
lengthening under the hedgerows； strolling out with uncovered
head to carry Eppie beyond the Stone…pits to where the flowers
grew； till they reached some favourite bank where he could sit
down； while Eppie toddled to pluck the flowers； and make
remarks to the winged things that murmured happily above the
bright petals； calling “Dad…dad’s” attention continually by
bringing him the flowers。 Then she would turn her ear to some
sudden bird…note； and Silas learned to please her by making signs
of hushed stillness； that they might listen for the note to come
again： so that when it came； she set up her small back and laughed
with gurgling triumph。 Sitting on the banks in this way； Silas
began to look for the once familiar herbs again； and as the leaves；
with their unchanged outline and markings； lay on his palm； there
was a sense of crowding remembrances from which he turned
away timidly； taking refuge in Eppie’s little world； that lay lightly
on his enfeebled spirit。
As the child’s mind was growing into knowledge； his mind was
growing into memory； as her life unfolded； his soul； long stupefied
in a cold； narrow prison； was unfolding too； and trembling
gradually into full consciousness。
It was an influence which must gather force with every new
year： the tones that stirred Silas’s heart grew articulate； and called
for more distinct answers； shapes and sounds grew clearer for
Eppie’s eyes and ears； and there was more that “Dad…dad” was
imperatively required to notice and account for。 Also； by the time
Eppie was three years old； she developed a fine capacity for
mischief； and for devising ingenious ways of being troublesome；
which found much exercise； not only for Silas’s patience； but for
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his watchfulness and penetration。 Sorely was poor Silas puzzled
on such occasions by the incompatible demands of love。 Dolly
Winthrop told him that punishment was good for Eppie； and that；
as for rearing a child without making it tingle a little in soft and
safe places now and then； it was not to be done。
“To be sure； there’s another thing you might do； Master
Marner；” added Dolly； meditatively： “you might shut her up once i’
the coal…hole。 That was what I did wi’ Aaron； for I was that silly wi’
the youngest lad as I could never bear to smack him。 Not as I
could find i’ my heart to let him stay i’ the coal…hole more nor a
minute； but it was enough to colly him all over； so as he must be
new washed and dressed； and it was as good as a rod to him—that
was。 But I put it upo’ your conscience； Master Marner； as there’s
one of ’em you must choose—ayther smacking or the coal…hole—
else she’ll get so masterful there’ll be no holding her。”
Silas was impressed with the melancholy truth of this last
remark； but his force of mind failed before the only two penal
methods open to him； not only because it was painful to him to
hurt Eppie； but because he trembled at a moment’s contention
with her； lest she should love him the less for it。 Let even an
affectionate Goliath get himself tied to a small tender thing；
dreading to hurt it by pulling； and dreading still more to snap the
cord； and which of the two； pray； will be master？ It was clear that
Eppie； with her short toddling steps； must lead father Silas a
pretty dance on any fine morning when circumstances favoured
mischief。
For example。 He had wisely chosen a broad strip of linen as a
means of fastening her to his loom when he was busy： it made a
broad belt round her waist； and was long enough to allow of her
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reaching the truckle…bed and sitting down on it； but not long
enough for her to attempt any dangerous climbing。 One bright
summer’s morning Silas had been more engrossed than usual in
“setting up” a new piece of work； an occasion on which his scissors
were in requisition。 These scissors； owing to an especial warning
of Dolly’s； had been kept carefully out of Eppie’s reach； but the
click of them had had a peculiar attraction for her ear； and
watching the results of that click； she had derived the philosophic
lesson that the same cause would produce the same effect。 Silas
had seated himself in his loom； and the noise of weaving had
begun； but he had left his scissors on a ledge which Eppie’s arm
was long enough to reach； and now； like a small mouse； watching
he
