章节正文
have given you a bath; but you know everybody in the house is
miserable about you, and it would be cruel to keep them so all
night. You must go downstairs.'
'I'm so glad, grandmother, you didn't say "Go home," for this is my
home. Mayn't I call this my home?'
'You may, my child. And I trust you will always think it your
home. Now come. I must take you back without anyone seeing you.'
'Please, I want to ask you one question more,' said Irene. 'Is it
because you have your crown on that you look so young?'
'No, child,' answered her grandmother; 'it is because I felt so
young this evening that I put my crown on. And I thought you would
like to see your old grandmother in her best.'
'Why do you call yourself old? You're not old, grandmother.'
'I am very old indeed. It is so silly of people - I don't mean
you, for you are such a tiny, and couldn't know better - but it is
so silly of people to fancy that old age means crookedness and
witheredness and feebleness and sticks and spectacles and
rheumatism and forgetfulness! It is so silly! Old age has nothing
whatever to do with all that. The right old age means strength and
beauty and mirth and courage and clear eyes and strong painless
limbs. I am older than you are able to think, and -'
'And look at you, grandmother!' cried Irene, jumping up and
flinging her arms about her neck. 'I won't be so silly again, I
promise you. At least - I'm rather afraid to promise - but if I
am, I promise to be sorry for it - I do. I wish I were as old as
you, grandmother. I don't think you are ever afraid of anything.'
'Not for long, at least, my child. Perhaps by the time I am two
thousand years of age, I shall, indeed, never be afraid of
anything. But I confess I have sometimes been afraid about my
children - sometimes about you, Irene.'
'Oh, I'm so sorry, grandmother! Tonight, I suppose, you mean.'
'Yes - a little tonight; but a good deal when you had all but made
up your mind that I was a dream, and no real
great-great-grandmother. You must not suppose I am blaming you for
that. I dare say you could not help it.'
'I don't know, grandmother,' said the princess, beginning to cry.
'I can't always do myself as I should like. And I don't always
try. I'm very sorry anyhow.'
The lady stooped, lifted her in her arms, and sat down with her in
her chair, holding her close to her bosom. In a few minutes the
princess had sobbed herself to sleep. How long she slept I do not
know. When she came to herself she was sitting in her own high
chair at the nursery table, with her doll's house before her.
CHAPTER 16
The Ring
The same moment her nurse came into the room, sobbing. When she
saw her sitting there she started back with a loud cry of amazement
and joy. Then running to her, she caught her in her arms and
covered her with kisses.
'My precious darlingprincess! where have you been? What has
happened to you? We've all been crying our eyes out, and searching
the house from top to bottom for you.'
'Not quite from the top,' thought Irene to herself; and she might
have added, 'not quite to the bottom', perhaps, if she had known
all. But the one she would not, and the other she could not say.
'Oh, Lootie! I've had such a dreadful adventure!' she replied, and
told her all about the cat with the long legs, and how she ran out
upon the mountain, and came back again. But she said nothing of
her grandmother or her lamp.
'And there we've been searching for you all over the house for more
than an hour and a half!' exclaimed the nurse. 'But that's no
matter, now we've got you! Only, princess, I must say,' she added,
her mood changing, 'what you ought to have done was to call for
your own Lootie to come and help you, instead of running out of the
house, and up the mountain, in that wild, I must say, foolish
fashion.'
'Well, Lootie,' said Irene quietly, 'perhaps if you had a big cat,
all legs, running at you, you might not exactly know what was the
wisest thing to do at the moment.'
'I wouldn't run up the mountain, anyhow,' returned Lootie.
'Not if you had time to think about it. But when those creatures
came at you that night on the mountain, you were so frightened
yourself that you lost your way home.'
This put a stop to Lootie's reproaches. She had been on the point
of saying that the long-legged cat must have been a twilight fancy
of the princess's, but the memory of the horrors of that night, and
of the talking-to which the king had given her in consequence,
prevented her from saying what after all she did not half believe
- having a strong suspicion that the cat was a goblin; for she knew
nothing of the difference between the goblins and their creatures:
she counted them all just goblins.
Without another word she went and got some fresh tea and bread and
butter for the princess. Before she returned, the whole household,
headed by the housekeeper, burst into the nursery to exult over
their darling. The gentlemen-at-arms followed, and were ready
enough to believe all she told them about the long-legged cat.
Indeed, though wise enough to say nothing about it, they
remembered, with no little horror, just such a creature amongst
those they had surprised at their gambols upon the princess's lawn.
In their own hearts they blamed themselves for not having kept
better watch. And their captain gave orders that from this night
the front door and all the windows on the ground floor should be
locked immediately the sun set, and opened after upon no pretence
whatever. The men-at-arms redoubled their vigilance, and for some
time there was no further cause of alarm.
When the princess woke the next morning, her nurse was bending over
her. 'How your ring does glow this morning, princess! - just like
a fiery rose!' she said.
'Does it, Lootie?' returned Irene. 'Who gave me the ring, Lootie?
I know I've had it a long time, but where did I get it? I don't
remember.'
'I think it must have been your mother gave it you, princess; but
really, for as long as you have worn it, I don't remember that ever
I heard,' answered her nurse.
'I will ask my king-papa the next time he comes,' said Irene.
CHAPTER 17
Springtime
The spring so dear to all creatures, young and old, came at last,
and before the first few days of it had gone, the king rode through
its budding valleys to see his little daughter. He had been in a
distant part of his dominions all the winter, for he was not in the
habit of stopping in one great city, or of visiting only his
favourite country houses, but he moved from place to place, that
all his people might know him. Wherever he journeyed, he kept a
constant look-out for the ablest and best men to put into office;
and wherever he found himself mistaken, and those he had appointed
incapable or unjust, he removed them at once. Hence you see it was
his care of the people that kept him from seeing his princess so
often as he would have liked. You may wonder why he did not take
her about with him; but there were several reasons against his
doing so, and I suspect her great-great-grandmother had had a
principal hand in preventing it. Once more Irene heard the
bugle-blast, and once more she was at the gate to meet her father
as he rode up on his great white horse.
After they had been alone for a little while, she thought of what
she had resolved to ask him.
'Please, king-papa,' she said, 'Will you tell me where I got this
pretty ring? I can't remember.'
The king looked at it. A strange beautiful smile spread like
sunshine over his face, and an answering smile, but at the same
time a questioning one, spread like moonlight over Irene's. 'It
was your queen-mamma's once,' he said.
'And why isn't it hers now?' asked Irene.
'She does not want it now,' said the king, looking grave.
'Why doesn't she want it now?'
'Because she's gone where all those rings are made.'
'And when shall I see her?' asked the princess.
'Not for some time yet,' answered the king, and the tears came into
his eyes.
Irene did not remember her mother and did not know why her father
looked so, and why the tears came in his eyes; but she put her arms
round his neck and kissed him, and asked no more questions.
The king was much disturbed on hearing the report of the
gentlemen-at-arms concerning the creatures they had seen; and I
presume would have taken Irene with him that very day, but for what
the presence of the ring on her finger assured him of. About an
hour before he left, Irene saw him go up the old stair; and he did
not come down again till they were just ready to start; and she
thought with herself that he had been up to see the old lady. When
he went away he left other six gentlemen behind him, that there
might be six of them always on guard.
And now, in the lovely spring weather, Irene was out on the
mountain the greater part of the day. In the warmer hollows there
were lovely primroses, and not so many that she ever got tired of
them. As often as she saw a new one opening an eye of light in the
blind earth, she would clap her hands with gladness, and unlike
some children I know, instead of pulling it, would touch it as
tenderly as if it had been a new baby, and, having made its
acquaintance, would leave it as happy as she found it. She treated
the plants on which they grew like birds' nests; every fresh flower
was like a new little bird to her. She would pay visits to all the
flower-nests she knew, remembering each by itself. She would go
down on her hands and knees beside one and say: 'Good morning! Are
you all smelling very sweet this morning? Good-bye!' and then she
would go to another nest, and say the same. It was a favourite
amusement with her. There were many flowers up and down, and she
loved them all, but the primroses were her favourites.
'They're not too shy, and they're not a bit forward,' she would say
to Lootie.
There were goats too about, over the mountain, and when the little
kids came she was as pleased with them as with the flowers. The
goats belonged to the miners mostly-a few of them to Curdie's
mother; but there were a good many wild ones that seemed to belong
to nobody. These the goblins counted theirs, and it was upon them
partly that they lived. They set snares and dug pits for them; and
did not scruple to take what tame ones happened to be caught; but
they did not try to steal them in any other manner, because they
were afraid of the dogs the hill-people kept to watch them, for the
knowing dogs always tried to bite their feet. But the goblins had
a kind of sheep of their own - very queer creatures, which they
drove out to feed at night, and the other goblin creatures were
wise enough to keep good watch over them, for they knew they should
have their bones by and by.
CHAPTER 18
Curdie's Clue
Curdie was as watchful as ever, but was almost getting tired of his
ill success. Every other night or so he followed the goblins
about, as they went on digging and boring, and getting as near them
as he could, watched them from behind stones and rocks; but as yet
he seemed no nearer finding out what they had in view. As at
first, he always kept hold of the end of his string, while his
pickaxe, left just outside the hole by which he entered the
goblins' country from the mine, continued to serve as an anchor and
hold fast the other end. The goblins, hearing no more noise in
that quarter, had ceased to apprehend an immediate invasion, and
kept no watch.
One night, after dodging about and listening till he was nearly
falling asleep with weariness, he began to roll up his ball, for he
had resolved to go home to bed. It was not long, however, before
he began to feel bewildered. One after another he passed goblin
houses, caves, that is, occupied by goblin families, and at length
miserable about you, and it would be cruel to keep them so all
night. You must go downstairs.'
'I'm so glad, grandmother, you didn't say "Go home," for this is my
home. Mayn't I call this my home?'
'You may, my child. And I trust you will always think it your
home. Now come. I must take you back without anyone seeing you.'
'Please, I want to ask you one question more,' said Irene. 'Is it
because you have your crown on that you look so young?'
'No, child,' answered her grandmother; 'it is because I felt so
young this evening that I put my crown on. And I thought you would
like to see your old grandmother in her best.'
'Why do you call yourself old? You're not old, grandmother.'
'I am very old indeed. It is so silly of people - I don't mean
you, for you are such a tiny, and couldn't know better - but it is
so silly of people to fancy that old age means crookedness and
witheredness and feebleness and sticks and spectacles and
rheumatism and forgetfulness! It is so silly! Old age has nothing
whatever to do with all that. The right old age means strength and
beauty and mirth and courage and clear eyes and strong painless
limbs. I am older than you are able to think, and -'
'And look at you, grandmother!' cried Irene, jumping up and
flinging her arms about her neck. 'I won't be so silly again, I
promise you. At least - I'm rather afraid to promise - but if I
am, I promise to be sorry for it - I do. I wish I were as old as
you, grandmother. I don't think you are ever afraid of anything.'
'Not for long, at least, my child. Perhaps by the time I am two
thousand years of age, I shall, indeed, never be afraid of
anything. But I confess I have sometimes been afraid about my
children - sometimes about you, Irene.'
'Oh, I'm so sorry, grandmother! Tonight, I suppose, you mean.'
'Yes - a little tonight; but a good deal when you had all but made
up your mind that I was a dream, and no real
great-great-grandmother. You must not suppose I am blaming you for
that. I dare say you could not help it.'
'I don't know, grandmother,' said the princess, beginning to cry.
'I can't always do myself as I should like. And I don't always
try. I'm very sorry anyhow.'
The lady stooped, lifted her in her arms, and sat down with her in
her chair, holding her close to her bosom. In a few minutes the
princess had sobbed herself to sleep. How long she slept I do not
know. When she came to herself she was sitting in her own high
chair at the nursery table, with her doll's house before her.
CHAPTER 16
The Ring
The same moment her nurse came into the room, sobbing. When she
saw her sitting there she started back with a loud cry of amazement
and joy. Then running to her, she caught her in her arms and
covered her with kisses.
'My precious darlingprincess! where have you been? What has
happened to you? We've all been crying our eyes out, and searching
the house from top to bottom for you.'
'Not quite from the top,' thought Irene to herself; and she might
have added, 'not quite to the bottom', perhaps, if she had known
all. But the one she would not, and the other she could not say.
'Oh, Lootie! I've had such a dreadful adventure!' she replied, and
told her all about the cat with the long legs, and how she ran out
upon the mountain, and came back again. But she said nothing of
her grandmother or her lamp.
'And there we've been searching for you all over the house for more
than an hour and a half!' exclaimed the nurse. 'But that's no
matter, now we've got you! Only, princess, I must say,' she added,
her mood changing, 'what you ought to have done was to call for
your own Lootie to come and help you, instead of running out of the
house, and up the mountain, in that wild, I must say, foolish
fashion.'
'Well, Lootie,' said Irene quietly, 'perhaps if you had a big cat,
all legs, running at you, you might not exactly know what was the
wisest thing to do at the moment.'
'I wouldn't run up the mountain, anyhow,' returned Lootie.
'Not if you had time to think about it. But when those creatures
came at you that night on the mountain, you were so frightened
yourself that you lost your way home.'
This put a stop to Lootie's reproaches. She had been on the point
of saying that the long-legged cat must have been a twilight fancy
of the princess's, but the memory of the horrors of that night, and
of the talking-to which the king had given her in consequence,
prevented her from saying what after all she did not half believe
- having a strong suspicion that the cat was a goblin; for she knew
nothing of the difference between the goblins and their creatures:
she counted them all just goblins.
Without another word she went and got some fresh tea and bread and
butter for the princess. Before she returned, the whole household,
headed by the housekeeper, burst into the nursery to exult over
their darling. The gentlemen-at-arms followed, and were ready
enough to believe all she told them about the long-legged cat.
Indeed, though wise enough to say nothing about it, they
remembered, with no little horror, just such a creature amongst
those they had surprised at their gambols upon the princess's lawn.
In their own hearts they blamed themselves for not having kept
better watch. And their captain gave orders that from this night
the front door and all the windows on the ground floor should be
locked immediately the sun set, and opened after upon no pretence
whatever. The men-at-arms redoubled their vigilance, and for some
time there was no further cause of alarm.
When the princess woke the next morning, her nurse was bending over
her. 'How your ring does glow this morning, princess! - just like
a fiery rose!' she said.
'Does it, Lootie?' returned Irene. 'Who gave me the ring, Lootie?
I know I've had it a long time, but where did I get it? I don't
remember.'
'I think it must have been your mother gave it you, princess; but
really, for as long as you have worn it, I don't remember that ever
I heard,' answered her nurse.
'I will ask my king-papa the next time he comes,' said Irene.
CHAPTER 17
Springtime
The spring so dear to all creatures, young and old, came at last,
and before the first few days of it had gone, the king rode through
its budding valleys to see his little daughter. He had been in a
distant part of his dominions all the winter, for he was not in the
habit of stopping in one great city, or of visiting only his
favourite country houses, but he moved from place to place, that
all his people might know him. Wherever he journeyed, he kept a
constant look-out for the ablest and best men to put into office;
and wherever he found himself mistaken, and those he had appointed
incapable or unjust, he removed them at once. Hence you see it was
his care of the people that kept him from seeing his princess so
often as he would have liked. You may wonder why he did not take
her about with him; but there were several reasons against his
doing so, and I suspect her great-great-grandmother had had a
principal hand in preventing it. Once more Irene heard the
bugle-blast, and once more she was at the gate to meet her father
as he rode up on his great white horse.
After they had been alone for a little while, she thought of what
she had resolved to ask him.
'Please, king-papa,' she said, 'Will you tell me where I got this
pretty ring? I can't remember.'
The king looked at it. A strange beautiful smile spread like
sunshine over his face, and an answering smile, but at the same
time a questioning one, spread like moonlight over Irene's. 'It
was your queen-mamma's once,' he said.
'And why isn't it hers now?' asked Irene.
'She does not want it now,' said the king, looking grave.
'Why doesn't she want it now?'
'Because she's gone where all those rings are made.'
'And when shall I see her?' asked the princess.
'Not for some time yet,' answered the king, and the tears came into
his eyes.
Irene did not remember her mother and did not know why her father
looked so, and why the tears came in his eyes; but she put her arms
round his neck and kissed him, and asked no more questions.
The king was much disturbed on hearing the report of the
gentlemen-at-arms concerning the creatures they had seen; and I
presume would have taken Irene with him that very day, but for what
the presence of the ring on her finger assured him of. About an
hour before he left, Irene saw him go up the old stair; and he did
not come down again till they were just ready to start; and she
thought with herself that he had been up to see the old lady. When
he went away he left other six gentlemen behind him, that there
might be six of them always on guard.
And now, in the lovely spring weather, Irene was out on the
mountain the greater part of the day. In the warmer hollows there
were lovely primroses, and not so many that she ever got tired of
them. As often as she saw a new one opening an eye of light in the
blind earth, she would clap her hands with gladness, and unlike
some children I know, instead of pulling it, would touch it as
tenderly as if it had been a new baby, and, having made its
acquaintance, would leave it as happy as she found it. She treated
the plants on which they grew like birds' nests; every fresh flower
was like a new little bird to her. She would pay visits to all the
flower-nests she knew, remembering each by itself. She would go
down on her hands and knees beside one and say: 'Good morning! Are
you all smelling very sweet this morning? Good-bye!' and then she
would go to another nest, and say the same. It was a favourite
amusement with her. There were many flowers up and down, and she
loved them all, but the primroses were her favourites.
'They're not too shy, and they're not a bit forward,' she would say
to Lootie.
There were goats too about, over the mountain, and when the little
kids came she was as pleased with them as with the flowers. The
goats belonged to the miners mostly-a few of them to Curdie's
mother; but there were a good many wild ones that seemed to belong
to nobody. These the goblins counted theirs, and it was upon them
partly that they lived. They set snares and dug pits for them; and
did not scruple to take what tame ones happened to be caught; but
they did not try to steal them in any other manner, because they
were afraid of the dogs the hill-people kept to watch them, for the
knowing dogs always tried to bite their feet. But the goblins had
a kind of sheep of their own - very queer creatures, which they
drove out to feed at night, and the other goblin creatures were
wise enough to keep good watch over them, for they knew they should
have their bones by and by.
CHAPTER 18
Curdie's Clue
Curdie was as watchful as ever, but was almost getting tired of his
ill success. Every other night or so he followed the goblins
about, as they went on digging and boring, and getting as near them
as he could, watched them from behind stones and rocks; but as yet
he seemed no nearer finding out what they had in view. As at
first, he always kept hold of the end of his string, while his
pickaxe, left just outside the hole by which he entered the
goblins' country from the mine, continued to serve as an anchor and
hold fast the other end. The goblins, hearing no more noise in
that quarter, had ceased to apprehend an immediate invasion, and
kept no watch.
One night, after dodging about and listening till he was nearly
falling asleep with weariness, he began to roll up his ball, for he
had resolved to go home to bed. It was not long, however, before
he began to feel bewildered. One after another he passed goblin
houses, caves, that is, occupied by goblin families, and at length
- grandmother [´græn,mʌðə]
n.(外)祖母 (初中英语单词) - confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- darling [´dɑ:liŋ] n.爱人 a.亲爱的 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- twilight [´twailait] n.黎明；黄昏 (初中英语单词)
- suspicion [sə´spiʃən] n.怀(猜)疑；嫌疑 (初中英语单词)
- horror [´hɔrə] n.恐怖；战栗 (初中英语单词)
- wherever [weər´evə] conj.无论在哪里 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- moonlight [´mu:nlait] n.&a.月光(的) (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- anchor [´æŋkə] n.锚 v.抛锚 (初中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- nursery [´nə:səri] n.托儿所；苗床；养鱼场 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- goblin [´gɔblin] n.恶鬼，小妖精 (高中英语单词)
- housekeeper [´haus,ki:pə] n.主妇，女管家 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- hearing [´hiəriŋ] n.听力；听证会；审讯 (高中英语单词)
- concerning [kən´sə:niŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- theirs [ðeəz] pron.他们的 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- invasion [in´veiʒən] n.入侵；侵害；侵犯 (高中英语单词)
- unjust [ʌn´dʒʌst] a.不公平(正)的 (英语四级单词)
- resolved [ri´zɔlvd] a.决心的；坚定的 (英语四级单词)
- gladness [´glædnis] n.愉快，高兴，喜悦 (英语四级单词)
- watchful [´wɔtʃfəl] a.注意的；戒备的 (英语四级单词)
- apprehend [,æpri´hend] vt.理解；忧虑；逮捕 (英语四级单词)
- weariness [wiərinis] n.疲倦；厌烦 (英语四级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- vigilance [´vidʒiləns] n.警惕，警戒 (英语六级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
- scruple [´skru:pəl] n.&v.犹豫；顾忌 (英语六级单词)
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