第 4 节
作者:绝对零度      更新:2022-11-28 19:15      字数:9322
  And then he died。         That was the mercy。         Within the week Marvin Fiske
  was dead you remember the accident。               And in her diary; written at this
  time; I long afterward read Mitchell Kennerly's:
  〃'There   was   not   a   single   hour    We   might   have   kissed   and   did   not
  kiss。'〃
  〃Oh; the irony of it!〃 I cried out。
  And   Carquinez;   in   the   firelight   a   veritable   Mephistopheles   in   velvet
  jacket; fixed me with his black eyes。
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  〃And they won; you said?          The world's judgment!          I have told you;
  and I know。      They won as you are winning; here in your hills。〃
  〃But   you;〃   I   demanded   hotly;   〃you   with   your   orgies   of   sound   and
  sense;   with   your   mad   cities   and   madder   frolicsbethink   you   that   you
  win?〃
  He   shook   his   head   slowly。   〃Because   you   with   your   sober   bucolic
  regime; lose; is no reason that I should win。          We never win。        Sometimes
  we think we win。       That is a little pleasantry of the gods。〃
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  THE APOSTATE
  〃Now I wake me up to work;             I pray the Lord I may not shirk。           If I
  should     die   before   the   night;   I   pray   the   Lord   my    work's    all  right。
  Amen。〃
  〃If you don't git up; Johnny; I won't give you a bite to eat!〃
  The   threat   had   no   effect   on   the   boy。 He   clung   stubbornly  to   sleep;
  fighting for its oblivion as the dreamer fights for his dream。                 The boy's
  hands loosely clenched themselves; and he made feeble; spasmodic blows
  at the air。    These blows were intended for his   mother; but she   betrayed
  practised   familiarity   in   avoiding   them   as   she   shook   him   roughly   by   the
  shoulder。
  〃Lemme 'lone!〃
  It   was   a   cry   that   began;   muffled;   in   the   deeps   of   sleep;   that   swiftly
  rushed   upward;   like   a   wail;   into   passionate   belligerence;   and   that   died
  away and sank down into an inarticulate whine。               It was a bestial cry; as of
  a soul in torment; filled with infinite protest and pain。
  But she did not mind。         She was a sad…eyed; tired…faced woman; and
  she had grown used to this task; which she repeated every day of her life。
  She got a grip on the bedclothes and tried to strip them down; but the boy;
  ceasing his punching; clung to them desperately。               In a huddle; at the foot
  of   the   bed;   he  still  remained    covered。     Then     she   tried  dragging    the
  bedding to the floor。        The boy opposed her。         She braced herself。        Hers
  was    the   superior   weight;    and   the  boy    and   bedding    gave;   the   former
  instinctively following the latter in order to shelter against the chill of the
  room that bit into his body。
  As he toppled on the edge of the bed it seemed that he must fall head…
  first   to   the   floor。 But   consciousness   fluttered   up   in   him。   He   righted
  himself and for a moment perilously balanced。                Then he struck the floor
  on his feet。     On the instant his mother seized him by the shoulders and
  shook   him。   Again      his  fists   struck   out;  this   time  with  more   force   and
  directness。     At the same time his eyes opened。             She released him。        He
  was awake。
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  〃All right;〃 he mumbled。
  She caught up the lamp and hurried out; leaving him in darkness。
  〃You'll be docked;〃 she warned back to him。
  He did not mind the darkness。           When he had got into his clothes; he
  went out into the kitchen。        His tread was very heavy for so thin and light
  a    boy。    His    legs   dragged     with    their   own    weight;    which     seemed
  unreasonable   because   they   were   such   skinny   legs。       He   drew   a   broken…
  bottomed chair to the table。
  〃Johnny;〃 his mother called sharply。
  He arose as sharply from the chair; and; without a word; went to the
  sink。 It was a greasy; filthy sink。        A smell came up from the outlet。            He
  took   no   notice   of   it。 That   a   sink   should   smell   was   to   him   part   of   the
  natural order; just as it was a part of the natural order that the soap should
  be grimy with dish…water and hard to lather。             Nor did he try very hard to
  make it lather。     Several splashes of the cold water from the running faucet
  completed the function。         He did not wash his teeth。          For that matter he
  had never seen a toothbrush; nor did he know that there existed beings in
  the world who were guilty of so great a foolishness as tooth washing。
  〃You might wash yourself wunst a day without bein' told;〃 his mother
  complained。
  She   was   holding   a   broken   lid   on   the   pot   as   she   poured   two   cups   of
  coffee。 He made no remark; for this was a standing quarrel between them;
  and the one thing upon which his mother was hard as adamant。                     〃Wunst〃
  a day it was compulsory that he should wash his face。                 He dried himself
  on a greasy towel; damp and dirty and ragged; that left his face covered
  with shreds of lint。
  〃I wish we didn't live so far away;〃 she said; as he sat down。              〃I try to
  do   the   best   I   can。 You   know   that。   But   a   dollar   on   the   rent   is   such   a
  savin'; an' we've more room here。          You know that。〃
  He   scarcely   followed   her。    He   had   heard   it   all   before;   many   times。
  The range of her thought was limited; and she was ever harking back to
  the hardship worked upon them by living so far from the mills。
  〃A dollar means more grub;〃 he remarked sententiously。                   〃I'd sooner
  do the walkin' an' git the grub。〃
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  He ate hurriedly; half chewing the bread and washing the unmasticated
  chunks down with coffee。             The hot and muddy liquid went by the name
  of coffee。      Johnny thought it was coffeeand excellent coffee。                 That was
  one   of   the   few   of   life's   illusions   that   remained   to   him。  He   had   never
  drunk real coffee in his life。
  In   addition   to the   bread; there   was   a   small   piece   of   cold   pork。   His
  mother   refilled   his   cup   with   coffee。     As   he   was   finishing   the   bread;   he
  began to watch if more was forthcoming。                 She intercepted his questioning
  glance。
  〃Now;   don't   be   hoggish;   Johnny;〃   was   her   comment。            〃You've   had
  your share。 Your brothers an' sisters are smaller'n you。〃
  He did not answer the rebuke。              He was not much of a talker。             Also;
  he ceased his hungry glancing for more。                 He was uncomplaining; with a
  patience that   was   as terrible   as   the school in   which it had been   learned。
  He   finished   his   coffee;   wiped   his   mouth   on   the   back   of   his   hand;   and
  started to rise。
  〃Wait   a   second;〃   she   said   hastily。    〃I   guess   the   loaf   kin   stand   you
  another slicea thin un。〃
  There     was    legerdemain       in  her   actions。    With     all  the   seeming     of
  cutting   a   slice   from   the   loaf   for   him;   she   put   loaf   and   slice   back   in   the
  bread box and conveyed to him one of her own two slices。                       She believed
  she     had     deceived      him;     but    he    had     noted     her    sleight…of…hand。
  Nevertheless; he   took the   bread shamelessly。              He   had   a   philosophy  that
  his   mother;   because of   her   chronic   sickliness;   was   not   much   of   an   eater
  anyway。
  She   saw   that   he   was   chewing   the   bread   dry;   and   reached   over   and
  emptied her coffee cup into his。
  〃Don't      set  good     somehow        on   my     stomach      this  morning;〃       she
  explained。
  A  distant   whistle;   prolonged   and   shrieking;   brought   both   of   them   to
  their feet。     She glanced at the tin alarm…clock on the shelf。                  The hands
  stood at half…past five。         The rest of the factory world was just arousing
  from sleep。       She drew a shawl about her shoulders; and on her head put a
  dingy