第 16 节
作者:
莫莫言 更新:2021-02-18 23:43 字数:9322
wheelbarrow。 I find it difficult to describe him other than vaguely; possibly
because Wilbird had no expression whatever in his countenance。 With his
vacant white face lifted to the clouds; seemingly oblivious of everything;
yet going with a sort of heaven…given instinct straight to his destination; he
trundled that rattling wheelbarrow for many a year over Portsmouth
cobblestones。 He was so unconscious of his environment that sometimes a
small boy would pop into the empty wheelbarrow and secure a ride
without Wibird arriving at any very clear knowledge of the fact。 His
employment in life was to deliver groceries and other merchandise to
purchasers。 This he did in a dreamy; impersonal kind of way。 It was as if a
spirit had somehow go hold of an earthly wheelbarrow and was trundling
it quite unconsciously; with no sense of responsibility。 One day he
appeared at a kitchen door with a two…gallon molasses jug; the top of
which was wanting。 It was not longer a jug; but a tureen。 When the
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recipient of the damaged article remonstrated with 〃Goodness gracious;
Wibird! You have broken the jug;〃 his features lighted up; and he seemed
immensely relieved。 〃I thought; 〃 He remarked; 〃I heerd somethink
crack!〃
Wibird Penhallow's heaviest patron was the keeper of a variety store;
and the first specimen of a pessimist I ever encountered。 He was an
excellent specimen。 He took exception to everything。 He objected to the
telegraph; to the railway; to steam in all its applications。 Some of his
arguments; I recollect; made a deep impression on my mind。 〃Nowadays;〃
he once observed to me; 〃if your son or your grandfather drops dead at the
other end of creation; you know of it in ten minutes。 What's the use?
Unless you are anxious to know he's dead; you've got just two or three
weeks more to be miserable in。〃 He scorned the whole business; and was
faithful to his scorn。 When he received a telegram; which was rare; he
made a point of keeping it awhile unopened。 Through the exercise of this
whim he once missed an opportunity of buying certain goods to great
advantage。 〃There!〃 he exclaimed; 〃if the telegraph hadn't been invented
the idiot would have written to me; and I'd have sent a letter by return
coach; and got the goods before he found out prices had gone up in
Chicago。 If that boy brings me another of those tapeworm telegraphs; I'll
throw an axe…handle at him。〃 His pessimism extended up; or down; to
generally recognized canons of orthography。 They were all iniquitous。 If
k…n…i…f…e spelled knife; then; he contended; k…n…i…f…e…s was the plural。
Diverting tags; written by his own hand in conformity with this theory;
were always attached to articles in his shop window。 He is long since ded;
as he himself would have put it; but his phonetic theory appears to have
survived him in crankish brains here and there。 As my discouraging old
friend was not exactly a public character; like the town crier or Wibird
Penhallow; I have intentionally thrown a veil over his identity。 I have; so
to speak; dropped into his pouch a grain or two of that magical fern…seed
which was supposed by our English ancestors; in Elizabeth's reign; to
possess the quality of rendering a man invisible。
Another person who singularly interested me at this epoch was a
person with whom I had never exchanged a word; whose voice I had never
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heard; but whose face was as familiar to me as every day could make it。
For each morning as I went to school; and each afternoon as I returned; I
saw this face peering out of a window in the second story of a shambling
yellow house situated in Washington Street; not far from the corner of
State。 Whether some malign disease had fixed him to the chair he sat on;
or whether he had lost the use of his legs; or; possible; had none (the upper
part of him was that of a man in admirable health); presented a problem
which; with that curious insouciance of youth I made no attempt to solve。
It was an established fact; however; that he never went out of that house。 I
cannot vouch so confidently for the cobwebby legend which wove itself
about him。 It was to this effect: He had formerly been the master of a large
merchantman running between New York and Calcutta; while still in his
prime he had abruptly retired from the quarter…deck; and seated himself at
that windowwhere the outlook must have been the reverse of
exhilarating; for not ten persons passed in the course of the day; and the
hurried jingle of the bells on Parry's bakery…cart was the only sound that
ever shattered the silence。 Whether it was an amatory or a financial
disappointment that turned him into a hermit was left to ingenious
conjecture。 But there he sat; year in and year out; with his cheek so close
to the window that the nearest pane became permanently blurred with his
breath; for after his demise the blurr remained。
In this Arcadian era it was possible; in provincial places; for an
undertaker to assume the dimensions of a personage。 There was a sexton
in Portsmouthhis name escapes me; but his attributes do notwhose
impressiveness made him own brother to the massive architecture of the
Stone Church。 On every solemn occasion he was the striking figure; even
to the eclipsing of the involuntary object of the ceremony。 His occasions;
happily; were not exclusively solemn; he added to his other public services
that of furnishing ice…cream for the evening parties。 I always thought
perhaps it was the working of an unchastened imaginationthat he
managed to throw into his ice…creams a peculiar chill not attained by either
Dunyon or Peduzziarcades ambothe rival confectioners。
Perhaps I should not say rival; for Mr。 Dunyon kept a species of
restaurant; while Mr。 Peduzzi restricted himself to preparing confections to
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be discussed elsewhere than on his premises。 Both gentlemen achieved
great popularity in their respective lines; but neither offered to the juvenile
population quite the charm of those prim; white…capped old ladies who
presided over certain snuffy little shops; occurring unexpectedly in silent
side…streets where the football of commerce seemed an incongruous thing。
These shops were never intended in nature。 They had an impromptu and
abnormal air about them。 I do not recall one that was not located in a
private residence; and was not evidently the despairing expedient of some
pathetic financial crisis; similar to that which overtook Miss Hepzibah
Pyrcheon in The House of the Seven Gables。 The horizontally divided
street doorthe upper section left open in summerushered you; with a
sudden jangle of bell that turned your heart over; into a strictly private hall;
haunted by the delayed aroma of thousands of family dinners。 Thence;
through another door; you passed into what had formerly been the front
parlor; but was now a shop; with a narrow; brown; wooden counter; and
several rows of little drawers built up against the picture…papered wall
behind it。 Through much use the paint on these drawers was worn off in
circles round the polished brass knobs。 Here was stored almost every small
article required by humanity; from an inflamed emery cushion to a
peppermint Gibraltarthe latter a kind of adamantine confectionery which;
when I reflect upon it; raises in me the wonder that any Portsmouth boy or
girl ever reached the age of fifteen with a single tooth left unbroken。 The
proprietors of these little knick…knack establishments were th