《the uncommercial traveller》

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the uncommercial traveller- 第48部分


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hatches and paddle…boxes is THEIR gleam on cottages and haystacks;

and the monotonous noise of the engines is the steady jingle of the

splendid team。  Anon; the intermittent funnel roar of protest at

every violent roll; becomes the regular blast of a high pressure

engine; and I recognise the exceedingly explosive steamer in which

I ascended the Mississippi when the American civil war was not; and

when only its causes were。  A fragment of mast on which the light

of a lantern falls; an end of rope; and a jerking block or so;

become suggestive of Franconi's Circus at Paris where I shall be

this very night mayhap (for it must be morning now); and they dance

to the self…same time and tune as the trained steed; Black Raven。

What may be the speciality of these waves as they come rushing on;

I cannot desert the pressing demands made upon me by the gems she

wore; to inquire; but they are charged with something about

Robinson Crusoe; and I think it was in Yarmouth Roads that he first

went a seafaring and was near foundering (what a terrific sound

that word had for me when I was a boy!) in his first gale of wind。

Still; through all this; I must ask her (who WAS she I wonder!) for

the fiftieth time; and without ever stopping; Does she not fear to

stray; So lone and lovely through this bleak way; And are Erin's

sons so good or so cold; As not to be tempted by more fellow…

creatures at the paddle…box or gold?  Sir Knight I feel not the

least alarm; No son of Erin will offer me harm; For though they

love fellow…creature with umbrella down again and golden store; Sir

Knight they what a tremendous one love honour and virtue more:  For

though they love Stewards with a bull's eye bright; they'll trouble

you for your ticket; sir…rough passage to…night!



I freely admit it to be a miserable piece of human weakness and

inconsistency; but I no sooner become conscious of those last words

from the steward than I begin to soften towards Calais。  Whereas I

have been vindictively wishing that those Calais burghers who came

out of their town by a short cut into the History of England; with

those fatal ropes round their necks by which they have since been

towed into so many cartoons; had all been hanged on the spot; I now

begin to regard them as highly respectable and virtuous tradesmen。

Looking about me; I see the light of Cape Grinez well astern of the

boat on the davits to leeward; and the light of Calais Harbour

undeniably at its old tricks; but still ahead and shining。

Sentiments of forgiveness of Calais; not to say of attachment to

Calais; begin to expand my bosom。  I have weak notions that I will

stay there a day or two on my way back。  A faded and recumbent

stranger pausing in a profound reverie over the rim of a basin;

asks me what kind of place Calais is?  I tell him (Heaven forgive

me!) a very agreeable place indeed … rather hilly than otherwise。



So strangely goes the time; and on the whole so quickly … though

still I seem to have been on board a week … that I am bumped;

rolled; gurgled; washed and pitched into Calais Harbour before her

maiden smile has finally lighted her through the Green Isle; When

blest for ever is she who relied; On entering Calais at the top of

the tide。  For we have not to land to…night down among those slimy

timbers … covered with green hair as if it were the mermaids'

favourite combing…place … where one crawls to the surface of the

jetty; like a stranded shrimp; but we go steaming up the harbour to

the Railway Station Quay。  And as we go; the sea washes in and out

among piles and planks; with dead heavy beats and in quite a

furious manner (whereof we are proud); and the lamps shake in the

wind; and the bells of Calais striking One seem to send their

vibrations struggling against troubled air; as we have come

struggling against troubled water。  And now; in the sudden relief

and wiping of faces; everybody on board seems to have had a

prodigious double…tooth out; and to be this very instant free of

the Dentist's hands。  And now we all know for the first time how

wet and cold we are; and how salt we are; and now I love Calais

with my heart of hearts!



'Hotel Dessin!' (but in this one case it is not a vocal cry; it is

but a bright lustre in the eyes of the cheery representative of

that best of inns)。  'Hotel Meurice!'  'Hotel de France!'  'Hotel

de Calais!'  'The Royal Hotel; Sir; Angaishe ouse!'  'You going to

Parry; Sir?'  'Your baggage; registair froo; Sir?'  Bless ye; my

Touters; bless ye; my commissionaires; bless ye; my hungry…eyed

mysteries in caps of a military form; who are always here; day or

night; fair weather or foul; seeking inscrutable jobs which I never

see you get!  Bless ye; my Custom House officers in green and grey;

permit me to grasp the welcome hands that descend into my

travelling…bag; one on each side; and meet at the bottom to give my

change of linen a peculiar shake up; as if it were a measure of

chaff or grain!  I have nothing to declare; Monsieur le Douanier;

except that when I cease to breathe; Calais will be found written

on my heart。  No article liable to local duty have I with me;

Monsieur l'Officier de l'Octroi; unless the overflowing of a breast

devoted to your charming town should be in that wise chargeable。

Ah! see at the gangway by the twinkling lantern; my dearest brother

and friend; he once of the Passport Office; he who collects the

names!  May he be for ever changeless in his buttoned black

surtout; with his note…book in his hand; and his tall black hat;

surmounting his round; smiling; patient face!  Let us embrace; my

dearest brother。  I am yours e tout jamais … for the whole of ever。



Calais up and doing at the railway station; and Calais down and

dreaming in its bed; Calais with something of 'an ancient and fish…

like smell' about it; and Calais blown and sea…washed pure; Calais

represented at the Buffet by savoury roast fowls; hot coffee;

cognac; and Bordeaux; and Calais represented everywhere by flitting

persons with a monomania for changing money … though I never shall

be able to understand in my present state of existence how they

live by it; but I suppose I should; if I understood the currency

question … Calais EN GROS; and Calais EN DETAIL; forgive one who

has deeply wronged you。 … I was not fully aware of it on the other

side; but I meant Dover。



Ding; ding!  To the carriages; gentlemen the travellers。  Ascend

then; gentlemen the travellers; for Hazebroucke; Lille; Douai;

Bruxelles; Arras; Amiens; and Paris!  I; humble representative of

the uncommercial interest; ascend with the rest。  The train is

light to…night; and I share my compartment with but two fellow…

travellers; one; a compatriot in an obsolete cravat; who thinks it

a quite unaccountable thing that they don't keep 'London time' on a

French railway; and who is made angry by my modestly suggesting the

possibility of Paris time being more in their way; the other; a

young priest; with a very small bird in a very small cage; who

feeds the small bird with a quill; and then puts him up in the

network above his head; where he advances twittering; to his front

wires; and seems to address me in an electioneering manner。  The

compatriot (who crossed in the boat; and whom I judge to be some

person of distinction; as he was shut up; like a stately species of

rabbit; in a private hutch on deck) and the young priest (who

joined us at Calais) are soon asleep; and then the bird and I have

it all to ourselves。



A stormy night still; a night that sweeps the wires of the electric

telegraph with a wild and fitful hand; a night so very stormy; with

the added storm of the train…progress through it; that when the

Guard comes clambering round to mark the tickets while we are at

full speed (a really horrible performance in an express train;

though he holds on to the open window by his elbows in the most

deliberate manner); he stands in such a whirlwind that I grip him

fast by the collar; and feel it next to manslaughter to let him go。

Still; when he is gone; the small; small bird remains at his front

wires feebly twittering to me … twittering and twittering; until;

leaning back in my place and looking at him in drowsy fascination;

I find that he seems to jog my memory as we rush along。



Uncommercial travels (thus the small; small bird) have lain in

their idle thriftless way through all this range of swamp and dyke;

as through many other odd places; and about here; as you very well

know; are the queer old stone farm…houses; approached by

drawbridges; and the windmills that you get at by boats。  Here; are

the lands where the women hoe and dig; paddling canoe…wise from

field to field; and here are the cabarets and other peasant…houses

where the stone dove…cotes in the littered yards are as strong as

warders' towers in old castles。  Here; are the long monotonous

miles of canal; with the great Dutch…built barges garishly painted;
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