第 8 节
作者:辛苦      更新:2021-02-20 16:24      字数:9320
  fed;   sheltered;   chased;   and   occasionally   run   in;   a   being   possessed   of   no
  moral sense; a being likely to set a bad example; inculcate vicious habits
  among her innocent   sisters;  and   lower   the standard   of   an   entire   poultry…
  yard。     The Young Poultry Keeper's Friend gives us no advice on this topic;
  and   we   do   not   know   whether   to   treat   Cannibal Ann   as   the   victim   of   a
  disease; or as a confirmed criminal; whether to administer remedies or cut
  her off in the flower of her youth。
  We have had a sad scene to…night。                A chick has been ailing all day;
  and when we shut up the brood we found him dead in a corner。
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  Phoebe put him on the ground while she busied herself about the coop。
  The other chicks came out and walked about the dead one again and again;
  eyeing him curiously。
  〃Poor little chap!〃 said Phoebe。           〃E's never 'ad a mother!         'E was an
  incubytor   chicken;   and   wherever   I   took   'im  'e   was   picked   at。 There   was
  somethink wrong with 'im; 'e never was a fyvorite!〃
  I put the fluffy body into a hole in the turf; and strewed a handful of
  grass    over   him。     〃Sad    little  epitaph!〃    I  thought。     〃He    never    was    a
  fyvorite!〃
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  The Diary of a Goose Girl
  CHAPTER VIII
  July 13th。
  I like to watch the Belgian hares eating their trifolium or pea… pods or
  grass;   graceful;   gentle   things   they   are;   crowding   about   Mr。   Heaven;   and
  standing prettily; not greedily; on their hind legs; to reach for the clover;
  their delicate nostrils and whiskers all a… quiver with excitement。
  As I look out of my window in the dusk I can see one of the mothers
  galloping across the enclosure; the soft white lining of her tail acting as a
  beacon…light to the eight infant hares following her; a quaint procession of
  eight   white   spots   in   it   glancing   line。  In   the   darkest   night   those   baby
  creatures could follow their mother through grass or hedge or thicket; and
  she   would   need no   warning   note   to   show   them  where   to   flee   in   case   of
  danger。     〃All you have to do is to follow the white night…light that I keep
  in the lining of my tail;〃 she  says; when she is giving her first   maternal
  lectures; and it seems a beneficent provision of Nature。                  To be sure; Mr。
  Heaven took his gun and went out to shoot wild rabbits to…day; and I noted
  that he marked them by those same self… betraying tails; as they scuttled
  toward their holes or leaped toward the protecting cover of the hedge; so it
  does     not  appear    whether     Nature    is  on   the  side   of  the   farmer    or  the
  rabbit 。 。 。
  There   is   as   much   comedy   and   as   much   tragedy   in   poultry   life   as
  anywhere;   and   already   I   see   rifts   within   lutes。     We   have   in   a   cage   a
  French gentleman partridge married to a Hungarian lady of defective sight。
  He paces back and forth in the pen restlessly; anything but content with the
  domestic      fireside。     One     can   see   plainly    that   he   is  devoted     to  the
  Boulevards; and that if left to his own inclinations he would never have
  chosen any spouse but a thorough Parisienne。
  The    Hungarian      lady   is  blind   of  one   eye;   from   some     stray   shot;  I
  suppose。      She is melancholy at all times; and occasionally goes so far as
  to beat her head against the wire netting。              If liberated; Mr。 Heaven says
  that her blindness would only expose her to death at the hands of the first
  sportsman;   and   it   always   seems   to   me   as   if   she   knows   this;   and   is   ever
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  trying to decide whether a loveless marriage is any better than the tomb。
  Then; again; the great; grey gander is; for some mysterious reason; out
  of favour with the entire family。           He is a noble and amiable bird; by far
  the   best   all…round   character   in   the   flock;   for   dignity   of   mien   and   large…
  minded       common…sense。         What     is   the  treatment     vouchsafed      to  this
  blameless husband and father?             One that puts anybody out of sorts with
  virtue and its scant rewards。         To begin with; the others will not allow him
  to go into the pond。         There is an organised cabal against it; and he sits
  solitary on the bank; calm and resigned; but; naturally; a trifle hurt。                 His
  favourite retreat is a tiny sort of island on the edge of the pool under the
  alders;   where   with   his   bent   head;   and   red…rimmed   philosophic   eyes   he
  regards   his   own   breast   and   dreams   of   happier   days。     When   the   others
  walk into the country twenty…three of them keep together; and Burd Alane
  (as I have named him from the old ballad) walks by himself。                   The lack of
  harmony is so evident here; and the slight so intentional and direct; that it
  almost moves me to tears。            The others walk soberly; always in couples;
  but even Burd Alane's rightful spouse is on the side of the majority; and
  avoids her consort。
  What     is  the   nature   of  his   offence?     There    can   be   no   connubial
  jealousies; I judge; as geese are strictly monogamous; and having chosen a
  partner of their joys and sorrows they cleave to each other until death or
  some   other   inexorable   circumstance   does   them   part。         If   they   are   ever
  mistaken in their choice; and think they might have done better; the world
  is none the wiser。       Burd Alane looks in good condition; but Phoebe thinks
  he is not quite himself; and that some day when he is in greater strength he
  will turn on his   foes   and rend   them; regaining thus his lost prestige;  for
  formerly he was king of the flock。
  * * *
  Phoebe has not a vestige of sentiment。             She just asked me if I would
  have a duckling or a gosling for dinner; that there were two quite ready
  the brown and yellow duckling; that is the last to leave the water at night;
  and the white gosling that never knows his own 'ouse。                    Which would I
  'ave; and would I 'ave it with sage and onion?
  Now; had I found a duckling on the table at dinner I should have eaten
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  it   without    thinking    at  all;   or  with  the   thought   that    it  had  come     from
  Barbury  Green。         But   eat   a   duckling that   I   have   stoned out   of the   pond;
  pursued up the bank; chased behind the wire netting; caught; screaming; in
  a corner; and carried struggling to his bed? Feed upon an idiot gosling that
  I have found in nine different coops on nine successive nightsin with the
  newly…hatched         chicks;     the   half…grown      pullets;    the   setting    hen;    the
  〃invaleed goose;〃 the drake with the gapes; the old ducks in the pen?Eat
  a gosling that I have caught and put in with his brothers and sisters (whom
  he   never   recognises)   so   frequently  and   regularly  that   I   am  familiar   with
  every joint in his body?
  In   the   first   place;   with   my   own   small   bump   of   locality   and   lack   of
  geography;   I   would   never   willingly   consume   a   creature   who   might;   by
  some   strange  process   of   assimilation;  make   me   worse   in   this   respect;   in
  the    second    place;    I  should    have    to  be   ravenous     indeed     to  sit  down
  deliberately and make a meal of an intimate friend; no matter if I had not a
  high   opinion   of   his   intelligence。     I   should   as   soon   think   of   eating   the
  Square Baby; stuffed with sage and onion and garnished with green apple…
  sauce; as the yellow duckling or the idiot gosling。
  Mrs。 Heaven has just called me into her sitting…room; ostensibly to ask
  me to order breakfast; but really for the pleasure of conversation。                       Why
  she   should   inquire   whether   I   would   relish   some   gammon   of   bacon   with
  eggs; when she knows that there has not been; is not now; and never will
  be; anything but gammon of bacon with eggs; is more than I can explain。
  〃Would you like to see my flowers; miss?〃 she asks; folding her plump
  hands   over   her   white   apron。      〃They  are   looking   beautiful