第 3 节
作者:白寒      更新:2021-04-30 16:59      字数:9321
  straight; son。〃
  〃Yes; sir;〃 the lad promised; a lump in his throat。
  It was more than ten years before he saw Captain Chunn again。
  PART 2
  As an urchin Jeff had taken things as they came without understanding
  causes。     Thoughts     had   come     to  him   in   flashes;   without    any   orderly
  sequence; often illogically。 As a gangling boy he still took for granted the
  hard knocks of a world he did not attempt to synthesize。
  Even his mother looked upon him as 〃queer。〃 She worried plaintively
  because he was so careless about his clothes and because his fondness for
  the outdoors sometimes led him to play truant。 Constantly she set before
  him  as   a   model his   cousin;  James;  who   was   a  good…looking   boy;   polite;
  always well dressed; with a shrewd idea of how to get along easily。
  〃Why can't you be like Cousin James? He isn't always in trouble;〃 she
  would urge in her tired way。
  It  was   quite   true  that   the  younger    cousin    was   more    of  a  general
  favorite than harum…scarum Jeff; but the mother might as well have asked
  her boy to be like Socrates。 It was not that he could not learn or that he did
  not want to study。 He simply did not fit into the school groove。 Its routine
  of   work    and   discipline;   its  tendency    to  stifle  individuality;   to  run   all
  children   through   the   same   hopper   like   grist   through   a   mill;   put   a   clamp
  upon his spirits and his imagination。 Even thus early he was a rebel。
  Jeff   scrambled   up   through   the   grades   in   haphazard   fashion   until   he
  reached the seventh。 Here his teacher made a discovery。 She was a faded
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  little woman of fifty; but she had that loving insight to which all children
  respond。   Under   her   guidance   for   one   year   the   boy   blossomed。   His   odd
  literary    fancy   for   Don    Quixote;    for  Scott's   poems     and   romances      she
  encouraged;        quietly     eliminating      the    dime     novels     he    had     read
  indiscriminately with these。 She broke through the shell of his shyness to
  find    out   that  his   diffidence    was    not  sulkiness     nor  his   independence
  impudence。
  The boy was a dreamer。 He lived largely in a world of his own; where
  Quentin Durward and Philip Farnum and Robert E。 Lee were enshrined as
  heroes。 From it he would emerge all hot for action; for adventure。 Into his
  games then he would throw a poetic imagination that transfigured   them。
  Outwardly   he   lived   merely   in   that   boys'   world   made   to   his   hand。   He
  adopted   its   shibboleths;   fought   when   he   must;   went   through   the   annual
  routine of marbles; tops; kites; hop scotch; and baseball。 From his fellows
  he   guarded   jealously   the   knowledge   of   even   the   existence   of   his   secret
  world of fancy。
  His progress through the grades and the high school was intermittent。
  Often he had to stop for months at a time to earn money for their living。 In
  turn he was newsboy; bootblack; and messenger boy。 He drove a delivery
  wagon   for   a   grocer;   ushered   at   a   theater;   was   even   a   copyholder   in   the
  proofroom of a newspaper。 Hard work kept him thin; but he was like a lath
  for toughness。
  Seven weeks after he was graduated from the high school his mother
  died。   The   day   of   the   funeral   a   real   estate   dealer   called   to   offer   three;
  hundred dollars for the lots in the river bottom bought some years earlier
  by Mrs。 Farnum。
  Jeff put the man off。 It was too late now to do his mother any good。
  She had had to struggle to the last for the bread she ate。 He wondered why
  the good things in life were so unevenly distributed。
  Twice   during   the  next   week   Jeff   was   approached   with   offers   for   his
  lots。 The boy was no fool。
  He found out that the land was wanted by a new railroad pushing into
  Verden。 Within three days he had sold direct to the agent of the company
  for nine hundred dollars。 With what he could earn on the side and in his
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  summers he thought that sum would take him through college。
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  CHAPTER 2
  I   wonder   if   Morgan;   the   Pirate; When   plunder   had   glutted   his   heart;
  Gave part of the junk from the ships he had sunk To help some Museum of
  Art; If he gave up the role of 〃collector of toll〃 And became a Collector of
  Art?
  I wonder if Genghis; the Butcher; When he'd trampled down nations
  like grass; Retired with his share when he'd lost all his hair And started a
  Sunday…school class; If he turned his past under and used half his plunder
  In running a Sunday…school class?
  I   wonder   if   Roger;   the   Rover;   When   millions   in   looting   he'd   made;
  Built   libraries   grand   on   the   jolly   mainland   To   honor   success   and   〃free
  trade〃; If he founded a college of nautical knowledge Where Pirates could
  study their trade?
  I   wonder;   I   wonder;   I   wonder;   If   Pirates   were   ever   the   same;   Ever
  trying to lend a respectable trend To the jaunty old buccaneer game Or is it
  because     of  our   Piracy   Laws     That   philanthropists    enter   the  game?
  Wallace Irwin; in Life。
  THE REBEL IS INSTRUCTED IN THE WORSHIP OF THE GOD…
  OF…THINGS…AS… THEY…ARE
  PART 1
  Jeff was   digging   out   a   passage   in the   〃Apology〃   when there   came   a
  knock at the door of his room。 The visitor was his cousin; James; and he
  radiated such   an air   of prosperity  that   the plain   little bedroom  shrank   to
  shabbiness。
  James nodded in offhand fashion as he took off his overcoat。 〃Hello;
  Jeff! Thought I'd look you up。 Got settled in your diggings; eh?〃 Before
  his host   could   answer he   rattled   on: 〃Just ran  in   for   a   moment。  Had   the
  devil   of   a   time   to   find   you。   What's   the   object   in   getting   clear   off   the
  earth?〃
  〃Cheaper;〃 Jeff explained。
  〃Should   think   it   would   be;〃   James   agreed   after   he   had   let   his   eyes
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  wander critically around the room。 〃But you can't afford to save that way。
  Get a good suite。 And for heaven's sake see a tailor; my boy。 In college a
  man is judged by the company he keeps。〃
  〃What have my room and my clothes to do with that?〃 Jeff wanted to
  know; with a smile。
  〃Everything。 You've got to put up a good front。 The best fellows won't
  go   around   with   a   longhaired   guy   who   doesn't   know   how   to   dress。   No
  offense; Jeff。〃
  His cousin laughed。 〃I'll see a barber to…morrow。〃
  〃And you must have a room where the fellows can come to see you。〃
  〃What's the matter with this one?〃
  A hint of friendly patronage crept into the manner of the junior。 〃My
  dear   chap;   college   isn't   worth   doing   at   all   unless   you   do   it   right。 You're
  here to get in with the best fellows and to make connections that will help
  you later。 That sort of thing; you know。〃
  Into   Jeff's   face   came   the   light   that   always   transfigured   its   plainness
  when he was in the grip of an idea。 〃Hold on; J。 K。 Let's get at this right。 Is
  that what I'm here for? I didn't know it。 There's a hazy notion in my noodle
  that I'm here to develop myself。〃
  〃That's what I'm telling you。 Go in for the things that count。 Make a
  good frat。 Win out at football or debating。 I don't give a hang what you go
  after; but follow the ball and keep on the jump。 I'm strong with the crowd
  that runs things and I'll see they take you in and make   you a cog of the
  machine。 But you'll have to measure up to specifications。〃
  〃But; hang it; I don't want to be a cog in any machine。 I'm here to give
  myself   a   chance   to   growsit   out   in the   sun   and   hatch   an   individuality
  give myself lots of free play。〃
  〃Then you've come to the wrong shop;〃 James informed him dryly。 〃If
  you   want   to   succeed   at   college   you've   got   to   do   the   things   the   other
  fellows do and you've got to do them the same way。〃
  〃You mean I've got to travel in a rut?〃
  〃Oh; well! That's a way of putting it。 I mean that you have to accept
  customs and