three men on the bummel(三个闲逛的人)-第14节
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It was not that my uncle did not rise early enough； it was that troubles
came to him at the last moment。 The first thing he would do after
breakfast would be to lose his newspaper。 We always knew when Uncle
Podger had lost anything； by the expression of astonished indignation with
which； on such occasions； he would regard the world in general。 It never
occurred to my Uncle Podger to say to himself：
〃I am a careless old man。 I lose everything： I never know where I
have put anything。 I am quite incapable of finding it again for myself。
In this respect I must be a perfect nuisance to everybody about me。 I
must set to work and reform myself。〃
On the contrary； by some peculiar course of reasoning； he had
convinced himself that whenever he lost a thing it was everybody else's
fault in the house but his own。
〃I had it in my hand here not a minute ago！〃 he would exclaim。
From his tone you would have thought he was living surrounded by
conjurers； who spirited away things from him merely to irritate him。
〃Could you have left it in the garden？〃 my aunt would suggest。
〃What should I want to leave it in the garden for？ I don't want a
paper in the garden； I want the paper in the train with me。〃
〃You haven't put it in your pocket？〃
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THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL
〃God bless the woman！ Do you think I should be standing here at
five minutes to nine looking for it if I had it in my pocket all the while？
Do you think I'm a fool？〃
Here somebody would explain； 〃What's this？〃 and hand him from
somewhere a paper neatly folded。
〃I do wish people would leave my things alone；〃 he would growl；
snatching at it savagely。
He would open his bag to put it in； and then glancing at it； he would
pause； speechless with sense of injury。
〃What's the matter？〃 aunt would ask。
〃The day before yesterday's！〃 he would answer； too hurt even to shout；
throwing the paper down upon the table。
If only sometimes it had been yesterday's it would have been a change。
But it was always the day before yesterday's； except on Tuesday； then it
would be Saturday's。
We would find it for him eventually； as often as not he was sitting on it。
And then he would smile； not genially； but with the weariness that comes
to a man who feels that fate has cast his lot among a band of hopeless
idiots。
〃All the time； right in front of your noses！〃 He would not finish the
sentence； he prided himself on his self…control。
This settled； he would start for the hall； where it was the custom of my
Aunt Maria to have the children gathered； ready to say good… bye to him。
My aunt never left the house herself； if only to make a call next door；
without taking a tender farewell of every inmate。 One never knew； she
would say； what might happen。
One of them； of course； was sure to be missing； and the moment this
was noticed all the other six； without an instant's hesitation； would scatter
with a whoop to find it。 Immediately they were gone it would turn up by
itself from somewhere quite near； always with the most reasonable
explanation for its absence； and would at once start off after the others to
explain to them that it was found。 In this way； five minutes at least would
be taken up in everybody's looking for everybody else； which was just
sufficient time to allow my uncle to find his umbrella and lose his hat。
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THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL
Then； at last； the group reassembled in the hall； the drawing…room clock
would commence to strike nine。 It possessed a cold； penetrating chime
that always had the effect of confusing my uncle。 In his excitement he
would kiss some of the children twice over； pass by others； forget whom
he had kissed and whom he hadn't； and have to begin all over again。 He
used to say he believed they mixed themselves up on purpose； and I am
not prepared to maintain that the charge was altogether false。 To add to
his troubles； one child always had a sticky face； and that child would
always be the most affectionate。
If things were going too smoothly； the eldest boy would come out with
some tale about all the clocks in the house being five minutes slow； and of
his having been late for school the previous day in consequence。 This
would send my uncle rushing impetuously down to the gate； where he
would recollect that he had with him neither his bag nor his umbrella。
All the children that my aunt could not stop would charge after him； two
of them struggling for the umbrella； the others surging round the bag。
And when they returned we would discover on the hall table the most
important thing of all that he had forgotten； and wondered what he would
say about it when he came home。
We arrived at Waterloo a little after nine； and at once proceeded to put
George's experiment into operation。 Opening the book at the chapter
entitled 〃At the Cab Rank；〃 we walked up to a hansom； raised our hats；
and wished the driver 〃Good…morning。〃
This man was not to be outdone in politeness by any foreigner； real or
imitation。 Calling to a friend named 〃Charles〃 to 〃hold the steed；〃 he
sprang from his box； and returned to us a bow； that would have done credit
to Mr。 Turveydrop himself。 Speaking apparently in the name of the
nation； he welcomed us to England； adding a regret that Her Majesty was
not at the moment in London。
We could not reply to him in kind。 Nothing of this sort had been
anticipated by the book。 We called him 〃coachman；〃 at which he again
bowed to the pavement； and asked him if he would have the goodness to
drive us to the Westminster Bridge road。
He laid his hand upon his heart； and said the pleasure would be his。
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Taking the third sentence in the chapter； George asked him what his
fare would be。
The question； as introducing a sordid element into the conversation；
seemed to hurt his feelings。 He said he never took money from
distinguished strangers； he suggested a souvenira diamond scarf pin； a
gold snuffbox； some little trifle of that sort by which he could remember
us。
As a small crowd had collected； and as the joke was drifting rather too
far in the cabman's direction； we climbed in without further parley； and
were driven away amid cheers。 We stopped the cab at a boot shop a little
past Astley's Theatre that looked the sort of place we wanted。 It was one
of those overfed shops that the moment their shutters are taken down in
the morning disgorge their goods all round them。 Boxes of boots stood
piled on the pavement or in the gutter opposite。 Boots hung in festoons
about its doors and windows。 Its sun…blind was as some grimy vine；
bearing bunches of black and brown boots。 Inside； the shop was a bower
of boots。 The man； when we entered； was busy with a chisel and
hammer opening a new crate full of boots。
George raised his hat； and said 〃Good…morning。〃
The man did not even turn round。 He struck me from the first as a
disagreeable man。 He grunted something which might have been 〃Good…
morning；〃 or might not； and went on with his work。
George said： 〃I have been recommended to your shop by my friend；
Mr。 X。〃
In response； the man should have said： 〃Mr。 X。 is a most worthy
gentleman； it will give me the greatest pleasure to serve any friend of his。〃
What he did say was： 〃Don't know him； never heard of him。〃
This was disconcerting。 The book gave three or four methods of
buying boots； George had carefully selected the one centred round 〃Mr。
X；〃 as being
