the uncommercial traveller- 第87部分

Temeraire。　　Says　Bullfinch；　then；　to　the　youth　in　livery；　with

boldness；　'Lavatory！'



When　we　arrived　at　the　family　vault　with　a　skylight；　which　the

youth　in　livery　presented　as　the　institution　sought；　we　had　already

whisked　off　our　cravats　and　coats；　but　finding　ourselves　in　the

presence　of　an　evil　smell；　and　no　linen　but　two　crumpled　towels

newly　damp　from　the　countenances　of　two　somebody　elses；　we　put　on

our　cravats　and　coats　again；　and　fled　unwashed　to　the　coffee…room。



There　the　waiter　who　ought　to　wait　upon　us　had　set　forth　our　knives

and　forks　and　glasses；　on　the　cloth　whose　dirty　acquaintance　we　had

already　had　the　pleasure　of　making；　and　which　we　were　pleased　to

recognise　by　the　familiar　expression　of　its　stains。　　And　now　there

occurred　the　truly　surprising　phenomenon；　that　the　waiter　who　ought

not　to　wait　upon　us　swooped　down　upon　us；　clutched　our　loaf　of

bread；　and　vanished　with　the　same。



Bullfinch；　with　distracted　eyes；　was　following　this　unaccountable

figure　'out　at　the　portal；'　like　the　ghost　in　Hamlet；　when　the

waiter　who　ought　to　wait　upon　us　jostled　against　it；　carrying　a

tureen。



'Waiter！'　said　a　severe　diner；　lately　finished；　perusing　his　bill

fiercely　through　his　eye…glass。



The　waiter　put　down　our　tureen　on　a　remote　side…table；　and　went　to

see　what　was　amiss　in　this　new　direction。



'This　is　not　right；　you　know；　waiter。　　Look　here！　here's

yesterday's　sherry；　one　and　eightpence；　and　here　we　are　again；　two

shillings。　　And　what　does　sixpence　mean？'



So　far　from　knowing　what　sixpence　meant；　the　waiter　protested　that

he　didn't　know　what　anything　meant。　　He　wiped　the　perspiration　from

his　clammy　brow；　and　said　it　was　impossible　to　do　it；　…　not

particularising　what；　…　and　the　kitchen　was　so　far　off。



'Take　the　bill　to　the　bar；　and　get　it　altered；'　said　Mr。

Indignation　Cocker；　so　to　call　him。



The　waiter　took　it；　looked　intensely　at　it；　didn't　seem　to　like　the

idea　of　taking　it　to　the　bar；　and　submitted；　as　a　new　light　upon

the　case；　that　perhaps　sixpence　meant　sixpence。



'I　tell　you　again；'　said　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker；　'here's

yesterday's　sherry　…　can't　you　see　it？　…　one　and　eightpence；　and

here　we　are　again；　two　shillings。　　What　do　you　make　of　one　and

eightpence　and　two　shillings？'



Totally　unable　to　make　anything　of　one　and　eightpence　and　two

shillings；　the　waiter　went　out　to　try　if　anybody　else　could；　merely

casting　a　helpless　backward　glance　at　Bullfinch；　in　acknowledgement

of　his　pathetic　entreaties　for　our　soup…tureen。　　After　a　pause；

during　which　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker　read　a　newspaper　and　coughed

defiant　coughs；　Bullfinch　arose　to　get　the　tureen；　when　the　waiter

reappeared　and　brought　it；　…　dropping　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker's

altered　bill　on　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker's　table　as　he　came　along。



'It's　quite　impossible　to　do　it；　gentlemen；'　murmured　the　waiter；

'and　the　kitchen　is　so　far　off。'



'Well；　you　don't　keep　the　house；　it's　not　your　fault；　we　suppose。

Bring　some　sherry。'



'Waiter！'　from　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker；　with　a　new　and　burning　sense

of　injury　upon　him。



The　waiter；　arrested　on　his　way　to　our　sherry；　stopped　short；　and

came　back　to　see　what　was　wrong　now。



'Will　you　look　here？　　This　is　worse　than　before。　　DO　you

understand？　　Here's　yesterday's　sherry；　one　and　eightpence；　and

here　we　are　again　two　shillings。　　And　what　the　devil　does　ninepence

mean？'



This　new　portent　utterly　confounded　the　waiter。　　He　wrung　his

napkin；　and　mutely　appealed　to　the　ceiling。



'Waiter；　fetch　that　sherry；'　says　Bullfinch；　in　open　wrath　and

revolt。



'I　want　to　know；'　persisted　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker；　'the　meaning　of

ninepence。　　I　want　to　know　the　meaning　of　sherry　one　and　eightpence

yesterday；　and　of　here　we　are　again　two　shillings。　　Send　somebody。'



The　distracted　waiter　got　out　of　the　room　on　pretext　of　sending

somebody；　and　by　that　means　got　our　wine。　　But　the　instant　he

appeared　with　our　decanter；　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker　descended　on　him

again。



'Waiter！'



'You　will　now　have　the　goodness　to　attend　to　our　dinner；　waiter；'

said　Bullfinch；　sternly。



'I　am　very　sorry；　but　it's　quite　impossible　to　do　it；　gentlemen；'

pleaded　the　waiter；　'and　the　kitchen　…　'



'Waiter！'　said　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker。



'　…　Is；'　resumed　the　waiter；　'so　far　off；　that　…　'



'Waiter！'　persisted　Mr。　Indignation　Cocker；　'send　somebody。'



We　were　not　without　our　fears　that　the　waiter　rushed　out　to　hang

himself；　and　we　were　much　relieved　by　his　fetching　somebody；　…　in

graceful；　flowing　skirts　and　with　a　waist；　…　who　very　soon　settled

Mr。　Indignation　Cocker's　business。



'Oh！'　said　Mr。　Cocker；　with　his　fire　surprisingly　quenched　by　this

apparition；　'I　wished　to　ask　about　this　bill　of　mine；　because　it

appears　to　me　that　there's　a　little　mistake　here。　　Let　me　show　you。

Here's　yesterday's　sherry　one　and　eightpence；　and　here　we　are　again

two　shillings。　　And　how　do　you　explain　ninepence？'



However　it　was　explained；　in　tones　too　soft　to　be　overheard。　　Mr。

Cocker　was　heard　to　say　nothing　more　than　'Ah…h…h！　　Indeed；　thank

you！　　Yes；'　and　shortly　afterwards　went　out；　a　milder　man。



The　lonely　traveller　with　the　stomach…ache　had　all　this　time

suffered　severely；　drawing　up　a　leg　now　and　then；　and　sipping　hot

brandy…and…water　with　grated　ginger　in　it。　　When　we　tasted　our

（very）　mock…turtle　soup；　and　were　instantly　seized　with　symptoms　of

some　disorder　simulating　apoplexy；　and　occasioned　by　the　surcharge

of　nose　and　brain　with　lukewarm　dish…water　holding　in　solution　sour

flour；　poisonous　condiments；　and　（say）　seventy…five　per　cent。　of

miscellaneous　kitchen　stuff　rolled　into　balls；　we　were　inclined　to

trace　his　disorder　to　that　source。　　On　the　other　hand；　there　was　a

silent　anguish　upon　him　too　strongly　resembling　the　results

established　within　ourselves　by　the　sherry；　to　be　discarded　from

alarmed　consideration。　　Again；　we　observed　him；　with　terror；　to　be

much　overcome　by　our　sole's　being　aired　in　a　temporary　retreat

close　to　him；　while　the　waiter　went　out　（as　we　conceived）　to　see

his　friends。　　And　when　the　curry　made　its　appearance　he　suddenly

retired　in　great　disorder。



In　fine；　for　the　uneatable　part　of　this　little　dinner　（as

contradistinguished　from　the　undrinkable）　we　paid　only　seven

shillings　and　sixpence　each。　　And　Bullfinch　and　I　agreed

unanimously；　that　no　such　ill…served；　ill…appointed；　ill…cooked；

nasty　little　dinner　could　be　got　for　the　money　anywhere　else　under

the　sun。　　With　that　comfort　to　our　backs；　we　turned　them　on　the

dear　old　Temeraire；　the　charging　Temeraire；　and　resolved　（in　the

Scotch　dialect）　to　gang　nae　mair　to　the　flabby　Temeraire。







CHAPTER　XXXIV　…　MR。　BARLOW







A　great　reader　of　good　fiction　at　an　unusually　early　age；　it　seems

to　me　as　though　I　had　been　born　under　the　superintendence　of　the

estimable　but　terrific　gentleman　whose　name　stands　at　the　head　of

my　present　reflections。　　The　instructive　monomaniac；　Mr。　Barlow；

will　be　remembered　as　the　tutor　of　Master　Harry　Sandford　and　Master

Tommy　Merton。　　He　knew　everything；　and　didactically　improved　all

sorts　of　occasions；　from　the　consumption　of　a　plate　of　cherries　to

the　contemplation　of　a　starlight　night。　　What　youth　came　to　without

Mr。　Barlow　was　displayed　in　the　history　of　Sandford　and　Merton；　by

the　example　of　a　certain　awful　Master　Mash。　　This　young　wretch　wore

buckles　and　powder；　conducted　himself　with　insupportable　levity　at

the　theatre；　had　no　idea　of　facing　a　mad　bull　single…handed　（in

which　I　think　him　less　reprehensible；　as　remotely　reflecting　my　own

character）；　and　was　a　frightful　instance　of　the　enervating　effects

of　luxury　upon　the　human　race。



Strange　destiny　on　the　part　of　Mr。　Barlow；　to　go　down　to　posterity

as　childhood's　experience　of　a　bore！　　Immortal　Mr。　Barlow；　boring

his　way　through　the　verdant　freshness　of　ages！



My　personal　indictment　against　Mr。　Barlow　is　one　of　many　counts。　　I

will　proceed　to　set　forth　a　few　of　the　injuries　he　has　done　me。



In　the　first　place；　he　never　made　or　took　a　joke。　　This

insensibility　on　Mr。　Barlow's　part　not　only　cast　its　own　gloom　over

my　boyhood；　but　blighted　even　the　sixpenny　jest…books　of　the　time；

for；　groaning　under　a　moral　spell　constraining　me　to　refer　all

things　to　Mr。　Barlow；　I　could　not　choose　but　ask　myself　in　a

whisper　when　tickled　by　a　printed　jest；　'What　would　HE　think　of　it？

What　would　HE　see　in　it？'　　The　point　of　the　jest　immediately　became

a　sting；　and　stung　my　conscience。　　For　my　mind's　eye　saw　him

stolid；　frigid；　perchance　taking　from　its　shelf　some　dreary　Greek

book；　and　translating　at　full　length　what　some　dismal　sage　said

（and　touched　up　afterwards；　perhaps；　for　publication）；　when　he

banished　some　unlucky　joker　from　Athens。



The　incompatibility　of　Mr。　Barlow　with　all　other　portions　of　my

young　life　but　himself；　the　adamantine　inadaptability　of　the　man　to

my　favourite　fancies