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以下歐美電影榜英文介紹
Nell had scarcely settled herself on a little heap of straw in one
corner, when she fell asleep, for the first time that day.
She was awakened by the stopping of the cart, which was about
to turn up a bye-lane. The driver kindly got down to help her out,
and pointing to some trees at a very short distance before them,
said that the town lay there, and that they had better take the path
which they would see leading through the churchyard.
Accordingly, towards this spot, they directed their weary steps.
Ch
trouble, and partly because it spoils their appetites and comes
cheaper than breakfast and dinner. So, it does them good and us
good at the same time, and that’s fair enough I’m sure.』
Having given this explanation, Mrs Squeers put her head into
the closet and instituted a stricter search after the spoon, in which
Mr Squeers assisted. A few words passed between them while they
were thus engaged, but as their voices were partially stifled by the
cupboard, all that Nicholas could distinguish was, that Mr Squeers
said what Mrs Squeers had said, was injudicious, and that Mrs
Squeers said what Mr Squeers said, was 『stuff.』
A vast deal of searching and rummaging ensued, and it proving
fruitless, Smike was called in, and pushed by Mrs Squeers, and
boxed by Mr Squeers; which course of treatment brightening his
intellects, enabled him to suggest that possibly Mrs Squeers might
have the spoon in her pocket, as indeed turned out to be the case.
As Mrs Squeers had previously protested, however, that she was
quite certain she had not got it, Smike received another box on the
ear for presuming to contradict his mistress, together with a
promise of a sound thrashing if he were not more respectful in
future; so that he took nothing very advantageous by his motion.
『A most invaluable woman, that, Nickleby,』 said Squeers when
his consort had hurried away, pushing the drudge before her.
『Indeed, sir!』 observed Nicholas.
『I don’t know her equal,』 said Squeers; 『I do not know her equal.
That woman, Nickleby, is always the same—always the same
bustling, lively, active, saving creetur that you see her now.』
Nicholas sighed involuntarily at the thought of the agreeable
domestic prospect thus opened to him; but Squeers was,
fortunately, too much occupied with his own reflections to
perceive it.
『It’s my way to say, when I am up in London,』 continued
Squeers, 『that to them boys she is a mother. But she is more than a
mother to them; ten times more. She does things for them boys,
Nickleby, that I don’t believe half the mothers going, would do for
their own sons.』
『I should think they would not, sir,』 answered Nicholas.
Now, the fact was, that both Mr and Mrs Squeers viewed the
boys in the light of their proper and natural enemies; or, in other
words, they held and considered that their business and
profession was to get as much from every boy as could by
possibility be screwed out of him. On this point they were both
agreed, and behaved in unison accordingly. The only difference
between them was, that Mrs Squeers waged war against the
enemy openly and fearlessly, and that Squeers covered his
rascality, even at home, with a spice of his habitual deceit; as if he
really had a notion of someday or other being able to take himself
in, and persuade his own mind that he was a very good fellow.
『But come,』 said Squeers, interrupting the progress of some
thoughts to this effect in the mind of his usher, 『let’s go to the
schoolroom; and lend me a hand with my school-coat, will you?』
Nicholas assisted his master to put on an old fustian shootingjacket, which he took down from a peg in the passage; and
Squeers, arming himself with his cane, led the way across a yard,
to a door in the rear of the house.
『There,』 said the schoolmaster as they stepped in together; 『this
is our shop, Nickleby!』
It was such a crowded scene, and there were so many objects to
attract attention, that, at first, Nicholas stared about him, really
Charles Dickens
arles Dickens
he sun was setting when they reached the wicket-gate at
which the path began, and, as the rain falls upon the just
and unjust alike, it shed its warm tint even upon the
resting-places of the dead, and bade them be of good hope for its
rising on the morrow. The church was old and grey, with ivy
clinging to the walls, and round the porch. Shunning the tombs, it
crept about the mounds, beneath which slept poor humble men:
twining for them the first wreaths they had ever won, but wreaths
less liable to wither and far more lasting in their kind, than some
which were graven deep in stone and marble, and told in pompous
terms of virtues meekly hidden for many a year, and only revealed
at last to executors and mourning legatees.
The clergyman’s horse, stumbling with a dull blunt sound
among the graves, was cropping the grass; at once deriving
orthodox consolation from the dead parishioners, and enforcing
last Sunday’s text that this was what all flesh came to; a lean ass
who had sought to expound it also, without being qualified and
ordained, was pricking his ears in an empty pound hard by, and
looking with hungry eyes upon his priestly neighbour.
The old man and the child quitted the gravel path, and strayed
among the tombs; for there the ground was soft, and easy to their
tired feet. As they passed behind the church, they heard voices
near at hand, and presently came on those who had spoken.
They were two men who were seated in easy attitudes upon the
grass, and so busily engaged as to be at first unconscious of
intruders. It was not difficult to divine that they were of a class of
itinerant showmen—exhibitors of the freaks of Punch—for,
perched cross-legged upon a tombstone behind them, was a figure
of that hero himself, his nose and chin as hooked and his face as
beaming as usual. Perhaps his imperturbable character was never
more strikingly developed, for he preserved his usual equable
smile notwithstanding that his body was dangling in a most
uncomfortable position, all loose and limp and shapeless, while his
long peaked cap, unequally balanced against his exceedingly slight
legs, threatened every instant to bring him toppling down.
In part scattered upon the ground at the feet of the two men,
and in part jumbled together in a long flat box, were the other
persons of the Drama. The hero’s wife and one child, the hobbyhorse, the doctor, the foreign gentleman who not being familiar
with the language is unable in the representation to express his
ideas otherwise than by the utterance of the word 『Shallabalah』
three distinct times, the radical neighbour who will by no means
admit that a tin bell is an organ, the executioner, and the devil,
were all here. Their owners had evidently come to that spot to
make some needful repairs in the stage arrangements, for one of
them was engaged in binding together a small gallows with thread,
while the other was intent upon fixing a new black wig, with the
aid of a small hammer and some tacks, upon the head of the
radical neighbour, who had been beaten bald.
They raised their eyes when the old man and his young
companion were close upon them, and pausing in their work,
returned their looks of curiosity. One of them, the actual exhibitor
no doubt, was a little merry-faced man with a twinkling eye and a
red nose, who seemed to have unconsciously imbibed something
of his hero’s character. The other—that was he who took the
money—had rather a careful and cautious look, which was
Charles Dickens
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