第 23 节
作者:生在秋天      更新:2023-05-17 13:24      字数:9320
  getting up early。      He wishes his friends 〃Good…night;〃 and drives down to
  the   station   comfortably   after   supper;   without   putting   the   house   to   any
  inconvenience。
  Potsdam;   the   Versailles   to   Berlin;   is   a   beautiful   little   town;   situate
  among      lakes   and   woods。      Here    in   the  shady    ways    of  its  quiet;   far…
  stretching park of Sans Souci; it is easy to imagine lean; snuffy Frederick
  〃bummeling〃 with shrill Voltaire。
  Acting on my advice; George and Harris consented not to stay long in
  Berlin; but to push on to Dresden。             Most that Berlin has to show can be
  seen better elsewhere; and we decided to be content with a drive through
  the   town。     The   hotel   porter   introduced   us   to   a   droschke   driver;   under
  whose guidance; so he assured us; we should see everything worth seeing
  in the shortest possible time。         The man himself; who called for us at nine
  o'clock   in   the   morning;   was   all   that   could   be   desired。  He   was   bright;
  intelligent; and well… informed; his German was easy to understand; and
  he knew a little English with which to eke it out on occasion。                    With the
  man himself   there was no fault to be found;  but his   horse was the   most
  unsympathetic brute I have ever sat behind。
  He took a dislike to us the moment he saw us。               I was the first to come
  out of the hotel。      He turned his head; and looked me up and down with a
  cold; glassy eye; and then he looked across at another horse; a friend of his
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  that   was    standing    facing   him。    I   knew     what   he   said。   He     had   an
  expressive head; and he made no attempt to disguise his thought。
  He said:
  〃Funny things one does come across in the summer time; don't one?〃
  George followed me out the next moment; and stood behind me。                     The
  horse again turned his head and looked。             I have never known a horse that
  could twist himself as this horse did。          I have seen a camelopard do trick's
  with his neck that compelled one's attention; but this animal was more like
  the thing one dreams of after a dusty days at Ascot; followed by a dinner
  with six old chums。         If I had seen his eyes looking at me from between
  his own hind legs; I doubt if I should have been surprised。                  He seemed
  more  amused   with   George  if   anything;   than   with   myself。       He   turned   to
  his friend again。
  〃Extraordinary; isn't it?〃 he remarked; 〃I suppose there must be some
  place where they grow them〃; and then he commenced licking flies off his
  own   left   shoulder。    I   began   to   wonder   whether   he   had   lost   his   mother
  when young; and had been brought up by a cat。
  George   and   I   climbed   in;   and   sat   waiting   for   Harris。  He   came   a
  moment later。       Myself; I thought he looked rather neat。           He wore a white
  flannel knickerbocker suit; which he had had made specially for bicycling
  in hot weather; his hat may have been a trifle out of the common; but it did
  keep the sun off。
  The horse gave one look at him; said 〃Gott in Himmel!〃 as plainly as
  ever horse spoke; and started off down Friedrich Strasse at a brisk walk;
  leaving Harris and the driver standing on the pavement。 His owner called
  to him to stop; but he took no notice。           They ran after us; and overtook us
  at the corner of the Dorotheen Strasse。 I could not catch what the man said
  to the horse; he spoke quickly and excitedly; but I gathered a few phrases;
  such as:
  〃Got   to   earn   my   living   somehow;   haven't   I?    Who   asked   for   your
  opinion?      Aye; little you care so long as you can guzzle。〃
  The   horse   cut   the   conversation   short   by   turning   up   the   Dorotheen
  Strasse on his own account。          I think what he said was:
  〃Come on then; don't talk so much。            Let's get the job over; and; where
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  possible; let's keep to the back streets。〃
  Opposite   the   Brandenburger   Thor   our   driver   hitched   the   reins   to   the
  whip; climbed down; and came round to explain things to us。                    He pointed
  out the Thiergarten; and then descanted to us of the Reichstag House。                    He
  informed us of   its exact height;  length; and breadth;  after the manner   of
  guides。     Then      he  turned    his  attention    to  the  Gate。     He    said   it  was
  constructed of sandstone; in imitation of the 〃Properleer〃 in Athens。
  At this point the horse; which had been occupying its leisure licking its
  own legs; turned round its head。           It did not say anything; it just looked。
  The man began again nervously。             This time he said it was an imitation
  of the 〃Propeyedliar。〃
  Here the horse proceeded up the Linden; and nothing would persuade
  him not to proceed up the Linden。             His owner expostulated with him; but
  he   continued   to   trot   on。  From   the   way   he   hitched   his   shoulders   as   he
  moved; I somehow felt he was saying:
  〃They've seen the Gate; haven' t they?              Very well; that's enough。 As
  for the rest; you don't know what you are talking about; and they wouldn't
  understand you if you did。          You talk German。〃
  It   was   the  same   throughout      the   length   of  the   Linden。    The    horse
  consented to stand still sufficiently long to enable us to have a good look
  at each sight; and to hear the name of it。            All explanation and description
  he cut short by the simple process of moving on。
  〃What   these   fellows   want;〃   he   seemed   to   say   to   himself;   〃is   to   go
  home and tell people they have seen these things。                If I am doing them an
  injustice;  if   they  are   more   intelligent   than they  look;   they  can   get   better
  information than this old fool of mine is giving them from the guide book。
  Who wants to know how high a steeple is?                   You don't remember it the
  next five minutes when you are told; and if you do it is because you have
  got   nothing   else   in   your   head。   He   just   tires   me   with   his   talk。 Why
  doesn't he hurry up; and let us all get home to lunch?〃
  Upon reflection; I am not sure that wall…eyed old brute had not sense
  on   its   side。  Anyhow;   I   know   there   have   been   occasions;   with   a   guide;
  when I would have been glad of its interference。
  But one is apt to 〃sin one's mercies;〃 as the Scotch say; and at the time
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  we cursed that horse instead of blessing it。
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  CHAPTER VII
  George       wondersGerman          love    of    order〃The      Band      of   the
  Schwarzwald         Blackbirds     will   perform    at   seven〃The      china   dogIts
  superiority over all other dogsThe German and the solar systemA tidy
  countryThe mountain valley as it ought to be; according to the German
  ideaHow the waters come down in GermanyThe scandal of Dresden
  Harris gives an entertainmentIt is unappreciatedGeorge and the aunt of
  himGeorge; a cushion; and three damsels。
  At a point between Berlin and Dresden; George; who had; for the last
  quarter of an hour or so; been looking very attentively out of the window;
  said:
  〃Why;   in   Germany;   is   it   the   custom   to   put   the   letter…box   up   a   tree?
  Why do they not fix it to the front door as we do?              I should hate having to
  climb up a tree to get my letters。           Besides; it is not fair to the postman。
  In   addition   to   being   most   exhausting;   the   delivery   of   letters   must   to   a
  heavy man; on windy nights; be positively dangerous work。                     If they will
  fix it to a tree; why not fix it lower down; why always among the topmost
  branches?      But;   maybe;   I   am   misjudging   the   country;〃   he   continued;   a
  new   idea   occurring   to   him。    〃Possibly   the   Germans;   who   are   in   many
  matters ahead of us; have perfected a pigeon post。              Even so; I cannot help
  thinking they  would   have   been   wiser to   train the  birds;  while  they  were
  about it; to deliver the letters nearer the ground。            Getting your letters out