第 7 节
作者:津夏      更新:2021-02-24 22:46      字数:9322
  however   harmless   in   itself;   will   awaken   slumbering   recollections   of   the
  twins。 It is impossible to steer clear of them。 They will come uppermost;
  let the poor man do what he may。 Ned has been known to be lost sight of
  for half an hour; Dick has been forgotten; the name of Mary Anne has not
  been mentioned; but the twins will out。 Nothing can keep down the twins。
  'It's   a   very   extraordinary   thing;   Saunders;'   says   Mr。   Whiffler   to   the
  visitor; 'but … you have seen our little babies; the … the … twins?' The friend's
  heart sinks within him as he answers; 'Oh; yes … often。' 'Your talking of the
  Pyramids;' says Mr。 Whiffler; quite as a matter of course; 'reminds me of
  the twins。 It's a very extraordinary thing about those babies … what colour
  should you say their eyes were?' 'Upon my word;' the friend stammers; 'I
  hardly know how to answer' … the fact being; that except as the friend does
  not remember to have heard of any departure from the ordinary course of
  nature in   the  instance  of  these twins;  they  might   have no   eyes   at   all for
  aught he has observed to the contrary。 'You wouldn't say they were red; I
  suppose?' says   Mr。 Whiffler。 The   friend   hesitates;  and   rather  thinks   they
  are; but inferring from the expression of Mr。 Whiffler's face that red is not
  the colour; smiles with some confidence; and says; 'No; no! very different
  from that。' 'What   should you   say to blue?'  says Mr。 Whiffler。 The  friend
  glances at him; and observing a different expression in his face; ventures
  to say; 'I should say they WERE blue … a decided blue。' 'To be sure!' cries
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  Mr。 Whiffler; triumphantly; 'I knew you would! But what should you say if
  I   was   to   tell   you   that   the   boy's   eyes   are   blue   and   the   girl's   hazel;   eh?'
  'Impossible!'   exclaims   the   friend;   not   at   all   knowing   why   it   should   be
  impossible。  'A  fact;  notwithstanding;'   cries   Mr。 Whiffler;   'and   let   me   tell
  you; Saunders; THAT'S not a common thing in twins; or a circumstance
  that'll happen every day。'
  In   this   dialogue   Mrs。   Whiffler;   as   being   deeply   responsible   for   the
  twins;   their   charms   and   singularities;   has   taken   no   share;   but   she   now
  relates;   in   broken   English;   a   witticism   of   little   Dick's   bearing   upon   the
  subject just discussed; which delights Mr。 Whiffler beyond measure; and
  causes him to declare that he would have sworn that was Dick's if he had
  heard it anywhere。 Then he requests that Mrs。 Whiffler will tell Saunders
  what Tom said about mad bulls; and Mrs。 Whiffler relating the anecdote; a
  discussion ensues upon the different character of Tom's wit and Dick's wit;
  from which it appears that Dick's humour is of a lively turn; while Tom's
  style   is   the   dry   and   caustic。  This   discussion   being   enlivened   by   various
  illustrations;     lasts   a  long   time;    and   is  only    stopped     by   Mrs。    Whiffler
  instructing   the   footman   to       ring   the   nursery   bell;    as   the   children   were
  promised that they should come down and taste the pudding。
  The friend turns pale when this order is given; and paler still when it is
  followed up by a great pattering on the staircase; (not unlike the sound of
  rain upon a skylight;) a violent bursting open of the dining…room door; and
  the tumultuous appearance of six small children; closely succeeded by  a
  strong   nursery…maid   with   a   twin   in   each   arm。   As   the   whole   eight   are
  screaming; shouting; or kicking … some influenced by a ravenous appetite;
  some   by   a   horror   of   the   stranger;   and   some   by   a   conflict   of   the   two
  feelings … a pretty long space elapses before all their heads can be ranged
  round the table and anything like order restored; in bringing about which
  happy state of things both the nurse and footman are severely scratched。
  At   length   Mrs。  Whiffler   is   heard   to   say;   'Mr。   Saunders;   shall   I   give   you
  some   pudding?' A  breathless   silence   ensues;   and   sixteen   small   eyes   are
  fixed   upon   the   guest   in   expectation   of   his   reply。   A   wild   shout   of   joy
  proclaims that he has said 'No; thank you。' Spoons are waved in the  air;
  legs   appear   above   the   table…   cloth   in   uncontrollable   ecstasy;   and   eighty
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  short fingers dabble in damson syrup。
  While the pudding is being disposed of; Mr。 and Mrs。 Whiffler look on
  with beaming countenances; and Mr。 Whiffler nudging his friend Saunders;
  begs him to take notice of Tom's eyes; or Dick's chin; or Ned's nose; or
  Mary   Anne's   hair;   or   Emily's   figure;   or   little   Bob's   calves;   or   Fanny's
  mouth; or Carry's head; as the case may be。 Whatever the attention of Mr。
  Saunders is called to; Mr。 Saunders admires of course; though he is rather
  confused about the sex of the youngest branches and looks at the wrong
  children; turning to a girl when Mr。 Whiffler directs his attention to a boy;
  and falling into raptures with a boy when he ought to be enchanted with a
  girl。 Then the dessert comes; and there is a vast deal of scrambling after
  fruit; and sudden spirting forth of juice out of tight oranges into infant eyes;
  and   much   screeching   and   wailing   in   consequence。 At   length   it   becomes
  time for Mrs。 Whiffler to retire; and all the children are by force of arms
  compelled   to   kiss   and   love   Mr。   Saunders   before   going   up…stairs;   except
  Tom; who; lying on his back in the hall; proclaims that Mr。 Saunders 'is a
  naughty beast;' and Dick; who having drunk his father's wine when he was
  looking   another   way;   is   found   to   be   intoxicated   and   is   carried   out;   very
  limp and helpless。
  Mr。 Whiffler and his friend are left alone together; but Mr。 Whiffler's
  thoughts are still with his family; if his family are not with him。 'Saunders;'
  says he; after a short silence; 'if you please; we'll drink Mrs。 Whiffler and
  the children。' Mr。 Saunders feels this to be a reproach against himself for
  not proposing the same sentiment; and drinks it in some confusion。 'Ah!'
  Mr。 Whiffler sighs; 'these children; Saunders; make one quite an old man。'
  Mr。 Saunders thinks that if they were his; they would make him a very old
  man; but he says nothing。 'And yet;' pursues Mr。 Whiffler; 'what can equal
  domestic      happiness?     what    can   equal    the  engaging     ways     of  children!
  Saunders;      why    don't   you   get   married?'    Now;    this  is  an   embarrassing
  question;   because   Mr。   Saunders   has   been   thinking   that   if   he   had   at   any
  time   entertained   matrimonial   designs;   the   revelation   of   that   day   would
  surely have routed them for ever。 'I am glad; however;' says Mr。 Whiffler;
  'that you ARE a bachelor; … glad on one account; Saunders; a selfish one; I
  admit。 Will you do Mrs。 Whiffler and myself a favour?' Mr。 Saunders is
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  surprised … evidently surprised; but he replies; 'with the greatest pleasure。'
  'Then;   will   you;   Saunders;'   says   Mr。   Whiffler;   in   an   impressive   manner;
  'will you cement and consolidate our friendship by coming into the family
  (so to speak) as a godfather?' 'I shall be proud and delighted;' replies Mr。
  Saunders:   'which   of   the   children   is   it?   really;   I   thought   they   were   all
  christened;      or   …  '  'Saunders;'    Mr。    Whiffler     interposes;     'they   ARE     all
  christened; you are right。 The fact is; that Mrs。 Whiffler is … in short; we
  expect another。' 'Not a ninth!' cries the friend; all aghast at the idea。 'Yes;
  Saunders;'   rejoins   Mr。   Whiffler;   solemnly;   'a   ninth。   Did   we   drink   Mrs。
  Whiffler's health? Let us drink it again; Saunders; and wish her well over
  it!'
  Doctor Johnson used   to tell   a story  of a   man   who had   but one   idea;
  which was a wrong one。 The couple who dote upon their children are in
  the same predicament: at home or abroad; at all times; and in all places;
  their thoughts are bound up in this one subject; and have no sphere beyond。
  They  relate   the   clever things   their   offspring   say  or   do;  and   weary  every
  company with their prolixity and absurdity。 Mr。 Whiffler takes a friend by
  the button at a street corner on a windy day to tell him a BON MOT of his
  youngest   boy's;   and   Mrs。   Whiffler;   calling   to   se