when god laughs and other stories(当上帝发笑时)-第5节
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from sleep。 She drew a shawl about her shoulders； and on her head put a
dingy hat； shapeless and ancient。
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WHEN GOD LAUGHS； AND OTHER STORIES
〃We've got to run；〃 she said； turning the wick of the lamp and blowing
down the chimney。
They groped their way out and down the stairs。 It was clear and cold；
and Johnny shivered at the first contact with the outside air。 The stars
had not yet begun to pale in the sky； and the city lay in blackness。 Both
Johnny and his mother shuffled their feet as they walked。 There was no
ambition in the leg muscles to swing the feet clear of the ground。
After fifteen silent minutes； his mother turned off to the right。
〃Don't be late；〃 was her final warning from out of the dark that was
swallowing her up。
He made no response； steadily keeping on his way。 In the factory
quarter； doors were opening everywhere； and he was soon one of a
multitude that pressed onward through the dark。 As he entered the
factory gate the whistle blew again。 He glanced at the east。 Across a
ragged sky…line of housetops a pale light was beginning to creep。 This
much he saw of the day as he turned his back upon it and joined his work
gang。
He took his place in one of many long rows of machines。 Before him；
above a bin filled with small bobbins； were large bobbins revolving
rapidly。 Upon these he wound the jute…twine of the small bobbins。 The
work was simple。 All that was required was celerity。 The small bobbins
were emptied so rapidly； and there were so many large bobbins that did the
emptying； that there were no idle moments。
He worked mechanically。 When a small bobbin ran out； he used his
left hand for a brake； stopping the large bobbin and at the same time； with
thumb and forefinger； catching the flying end of twine。 Also； at the same
time； with his right hand； he caught up the loose twine…end of a small
bobbin。 These various acts with both hands were performed
simultaneously and swiftly。 Then there would come a flash of his hands as
he looped the weaver's knot and released the bobbin。 There was nothing
difficult about weaver's knots。 He once boasted he could tie them in his
sleep。 And for that matter； he sometimes did； toiling centuries long in a
single night at tying an endless succession of weaver's knots。
Some of the boys shirked； wasting time and machinery by not
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WHEN GOD LAUGHS； AND OTHER STORIES
replacing the small bobbins when they ran out。 And there was an
overseer to prevent this。 He caught Johnny's neighbour at the trick； and
boxed his ears。
〃Look at Johnny therewhy ain't you like him？〃 the overseer
wrathfully demanded。
Johnny's bobbins were running full blast； but he did not thrill at the
indirect praise。 There had been a time 。 。 。 but that was long ago； very
long ago。 His apathetic face was expressionless as he listened to himself
being held up as a shining example。 He was the perfect worker。 He
knew that。 He had been told so； often。 It was a commonplace； and
besides it didn't seem to mean anything to him any more。 From the
perfect worker he had evolved into the perfect machine。 When his work
went wrong； it was with him as with the machine； due to faulty material。
It would have been as possible for a perfect nail…die to cut imperfect nails
as for him to make a mistake。
And small wonder。 There had never been a time when he had not
been in intimate relationship with machines。 Machinery had almost been
bred into him； and at any rate he had been brought up on it。 Twelve years
before； there had been a small flutter of excitement in the loom room of
this very mill。 Johnny's mother had fainted。 They stretched her out on
the floor in the midst of the shrieking machines。 A couple of elderly
women were called from their looms。 The foreman assisted。 And in a
few minutes there was one more soul in the loom room than had entered
by the doors。 It was Johnny； born with the pounding； crashing roar of the
looms in his ears； drawing with his first breath the warm； moist air that
was thick with flying lint。 He had coughed that first day in order to rid
his lungs of the lint； and for the same reason he had coughed ever since。
The boy alongside of Johnny whimpered and sniffed。 The boy's face
was convulsed with hatred for the overseer who kept a threatening eye on
him from a distance； but every bobbin was running full。 The boy yelled
terrible oaths into the whirling bobbins before him； but the sound did not
carry half a dozen feet； the roaring of the room holding it in and
containing it like a wall。
Of all this Johnny took no notice。 He had a way of accepting things。
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WHEN GOD LAUGHS； AND OTHER STORIES
Besides； things grow monotonous by repetition； and this particular
happening he had witnessed many times。 It seemed to him as useless to
oppose the overseer as to defy the will of a machine。 Machines were
made to go in certain ways and to perform certain tasks。 It was the same
with the overseer。
But at eleven o'clock there was excitement in the room。 In an
apparently occult way the excitement instantly permeated everywhere。
The one…legged boy who worked on the other side of Johnny bobbed
swiftly across the floor to a bin truck that stood empty。 Into this he dived
out of sight； crutch and all。 The superintendent of the mill was coming
along； accompanied by a young man。 He was well dressed and wore a
starched shirta gentleman； in Johnny's classification of men； and also；
〃the Inspector。〃
He looked sharply at the boys as he passed along。 Sometimes he
stopped and asked questions。 When he did so； he was compelled to shout
at the top of his lungs； at which moments his face was ludicrously
contorted with the strain of making himself heard。 His quick eye noted
the empty machine alongside of Johnny's； but he said nothing。 Johnny
also caught his eye； and he stopped abruptly。 He caught Johnny by the
arm to draw him back a step from the machine； but with an exclamation of
surprise he released the arm。
〃Pretty skinny；〃 the superintendent laughed anxiously。
〃Pipe stems；〃 was the answer。 〃Look at those legs。 The boy's got
the ricketsincipient； but he's got them。 If epilepsy doesn't get him in the
end； it will be because tuberculosis gets him first。〃
Johnny listened； but did not understand。 Furthermore he was not
interested in future ills。 There was an immediate and more serious ill that
threatened him in the form of the inspector。
〃Now； my boy； I want you to tell me the truth；〃 the inspector said； or
shouted； bending close to the boy's ear to make him hear。 〃How old are
you？〃
〃Fourteen；〃 Johnny lied； and he lied with the full force of his lungs。
So loudly did he lie that it started him off in a dry； hacking cough that
lifted the lint which had been settling in his lungs all morning。
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〃Looks sixteen at least；〃 said the superintendent。
〃Or sixty；〃 snapped the inspector。
〃He's always looked that way。〃
〃How long？〃 asked the inspector； quickly。
〃For years。 Never gets a bit older。〃
〃Or younger； I dare say。 I suppose he's worked here all those years？〃
〃Off and onbut that was before the new law was passed；〃 the
superintendent hastened to add。
