第 29 节
作者:
冬冬 更新:2021-02-20 15:54 字数:9320
boarding。 I finally decided; being a lover of bold methods; to let go my
largest gun firstfor moral effect。
〃So;〃 said I; as I ran alongside;〃you are the man who puts up the
signs。〃
He stopped and looked at me。
〃What signs?〃
〃Why the sign 'Rest' along this road。〃
He paused for some seconds with a perplexed expression on his face。
〃Then you are not the sign man?〃 I said。
〃No;〃 he replied; 〃I ain't any sign man。〃
I was not a little disappointed; but having made my attack; I
determined to see if there was any treasure aboardwhich; I suppose;
should be the procedure of any well…regulated pirate。
〃I'm going this way myself;〃 I said; 〃and if you have no objections〃
He stood looking at me curiously; indeed suspiciously; through his
round spectacles。
〃Have you got the passport?〃 he asked finally。
〃The passport!〃 I exclaimed; mystified in my turn。
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〃Yes;〃 said he; 〃the passport。 Let me see your hand。〃
When I held out my hand he looked at it closely for a moment; and
then took it with a quick warm pressure in one of his; and gave it a little
shake; in a way not quite American。
〃You are one of us;〃 said he; 〃you work。〃
I thought at first that it was a bit of pleasantry; and I was about to
return it in kind when I saw plainly in his face a look of solemn intent。
〃So;〃 he said; 〃we shall travel like comrades。〃
He thrust his scarred hand through my arm; and we walked up the road
side by side; his bulging pockets beating first against his legs and then
against mine; quite impartially。
〃I think;〃 said the stranger; 〃that we shall be arrested at Kilburn。〃
〃We shall!〃 I exclaimed with something; I admit; of a shock。
〃Yes;〃 he said; 〃but it is all in the day's work。〃
〃How is that?〃
He stopped in the road and faced me。 Throwing back his overcoat he
pointed to a small red button on his coat lapel。
〃They don't want me in Kilburn;〃 said he; 〃the mill men are strikin'
there; and the bosses have got armed men on every corner。 Oh; the
capitalists are watchin' for me; all right。〃
I cannot convey the strange excitement I felt。 It seemed as though
these words suddenly opened a whole new world around mea world I
had heard about for years; but never entered。 And the tone in which he had
used the word 〃capitalist!〃 I had almost to glance around to make sure that
there were no ravening capitalists hiding behind the trees。
〃So you are a Socialist;〃 I said。
〃Yes;〃 he answered。 〃I'm one of those dangerous persons。〃
First and last I have read much of Socialism; and thought about it; too;
from the quiet angle of my farm among the hills; but this was the first time
I had ever had a live Socialist on my arm。 I could not have been more
surprised if the stranger had said; 〃Yes; I am Theodore Roosevelt。〃
One of the discoveries we keep making all our life long (provided we
remain humble) is the humorous discovery of the ordinariness of the
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extraordinary。 Here was this disrupter of society; this man of the red flag
here he was with his mild spectacled eyes and his furry ears wagging as he
walked。 It was unbelievable!and the sun shining on him quite as
impartially as it shone on me。
Coming at last to a pleasant bit of woodland; where a stream ran under
the roadway; I said:
〃Stranger; let's sit down and have a bite of luncheon。〃
He began to expostulate; said he was expected in Kilburn。
〃Oh; I've plenty for two;〃 I said; 〃and I can say; at least; that I am a
firm believer in cooperation。
Without more urging he followed me into the woods; where we sat
down comfortably under a tree。
Now; when I take a fine thick sandwich out of my bag; I always feel
like making it a polite bow; and before I bite into a big brown doughnut; I
am tempted to say; 〃By your leave; madam;〃 and as for MINCE PIE
Beau Brummel himself could not outdo me in respectful consideration。
But Bill Hahn neither saw; nor smelled; nor; I think; tasted Mrs。 Ransome's
cookery。 As soon as we sat down he began talking。 From time to time he
would reach out for another sandwich or doughnut or pickle (without
knowing in the least which he was getting); and when that was gone some
reflex impulse caused him to reach out for some more。 When the last
crumb of our lunch had disappeared Bill Hahn still reached out。 His hand
groped absently about; and coming in contact with no more doughnuts or
pickles he withdrew itand did not know; I think; that the meal was
finished。 (Confidentially; I have speculated on what might have happened
if the supply had been unlimited!)
But that was Bill Hahn。 Once started on his talk; he never thought of
food or clothing or shelter; but his eyes glowed; his face lighted up with a
strange effulgence; and he quite lost himself upon the tide of his own
oratory。 I saw him afterward by a flare…light at the centre of a great crowd
of men and womenbut that is getting ahead of my story。
His talk bristled with such words as 〃capitalism;〃 〃proletariat;〃 〃class…
consciousness〃and he spoke with fluency of 〃economic determinism〃
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and 〃syndicalism。〃 It was quite wonderful! And from time to time; he
would bring in a smashing quotation from Aristotle; Napoleon; Karl Marx;
or Eugene V。 Debs; giving them all equal value; and he cited statistics!oh;
marvellous statistics; that never were on sea or land。
Once he was so swept away by his own eloquence that he sprang to his
feet and; raising one hand high above his head (quite unconscious that he
was holding up a dill pickle); he worked through one of his most thrilling
periods。
Yes; I laughed; and yet there was so brave a simplicity about this odd;
absurd little man that what I laughed at was only his outward appearance
(and that he himself had no care for); and all the time I felt a growing
respect and admiration for him。 He was not only sincere; but he was
genuinely simplea much higher virtue; as Fenelon says。 For while
sincere people do not aim at appearing anything but what they are; they
are always in fear of passing for something they are not。 They are forever
thinking about themselves; weighing all their words and thoughts and
dwelling upon what they have done; in the fear of having done too much
or too little; whereas simplicity; as Fenelon says; is an uprightness of soul
which has ceased wholly to dwell upon itself or its actions。 Thus there are
plenty of sincere folk in the world but few who are simple。
Well; the longer he talked; the less interested I was in what he said and
the more fascinated I became in what he was。 I felt a wistful interest in
him: and I wanted to know what way he took to purge himself of himself。
I think if I had been in that group nineteen hundred years ago; which
surrounded the beggar who was born blind; but whose anointed eyes now
looked out upon glories of the world; I should have been among the
questioners:
〃What did he to thee? How opened he thine eyes?〃
I tried ineffectually several times to break the swift current of his
oratory and finally succeeded (when he paused a moment to finish off a bit
of pie crust)。
〃You must have seen some hard experiences in your life;〃 I said。
〃That I have;〃 responded Bill Hahn; 〃the capitalistic system〃
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〃Did you ever work in the mills yourself?〃 I interrupted hastily。
〃Boy and man;〃 said Bill Hahn; 〃I worked in that hell for thirty…two
yearsThe class…conscious proletariat have only to exert themselves〃
〃And your wife; did she work tooand your sons and daughters?〃
A spasm of pain crossed his face。