章节正文
"But why do you go to bed?" persisted the
Patchwork Girl.
"Here, here! You are making altogether too
much noise," cried the Voice they had heard
before. "Keep quiet, strangers, and go to bed."
The cat, which could see in the dark, looked
sharply around for the owner of the Voice, hut
could discover no one, although the Voice had
seemed close beside them. She arched her back
a little and seemed afraid. Then she whispered
to Ojo: "Come!" and led him to a bed.
With his hands the boy felt of the bed and
found it was big and soft, with feather pillows
and plenty of blankets. So he took off his shoes
and hat and crept into the bed. Then the cat
led Scraps to another bed and the Patchwork
Girl was puzzled to know what to do with it.
"Lie down and keep quiet," whispered the
cat, warningly.
"Can't I sing?" asked Scraps.
"Can't I whistle?" asked Scraps.
"Can't I dance till morning, if I want to?"
asked Scraps.
"You must keep quiet," said the cat, in a soft
voice.
"I don't want to," replied the Patchwork Girl,
speaking as loudly as usual. "What right have you
to order me around? If I want to talk, or yell, or
whistle--"
Before she could say anything more an unseen
hand seized her firmly and threw her out of the
door, which closed behind her with a sharp
slam. She found herself bumping and rolling in
the road and when she got up and tried to open
the door of the house again she found it locked.
"What has happened to Scraps?" asked Ojo.
"Never mind. Let's go to sleep, or something
will happen to us," answered the Glass Cat.
So Ojo snuggled down in his bed and fell
asleep, and he was so tired that he never
wakened until broad daylight.
Chapter Seven
The Troublesome Phonograph
When the boy opened his eyes next morning he
looked carefully around the room. These small
Munchkin houses seldom had more than one room in
them. That in which Ojo now found himself had
three beds, set all in a row on one side of it.
The Glass Cat lay asleep on one bed, Ojo was in
the second, and the third was neatly made up and
smoothed for the day. On the other side of the
room was a round table on which breakfast was
already placed, smoking hot. Only one chair was
drawn up to the table, where a place was set for
one person. No one seemed to be in the room except
the boy and Bungle.
Ojo got up and put on his shoes. Finding a
toilet stand at the head of his bed he washed his
face and hands and brushed his hair. Then he
went to the table and said:
"I wonder if this is my breakfast?"
"Eat it!" commanded a Voice at his side, so
near that Ojo jumped; But no person could he
see.
He was hungry, and the breakfast looked
good; so he sat down and ate all he wanted.
Then, rising, he took his hat and wakened the
Glass Cat.
"Come on, Bungle," said he; "we must go.
He cast another glance about the room and,
speaking to the air, he said: "Whoever lives here
has been kind to me, and I'm much obliged."
There was no answer, so he took his basket
and went out the door, the cat following him.
In the middle of the path sat the Patchwork
Girl, playing with pebbles she had picked up.
"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed cheerfully.
"I thought you were never coming out. It has been
daylight a long time."
"What did you do all night?" asked the boy.
"Sat here and watched the stars and the
moon," she replied. "They're interesting. I never
saw them before, you know."
"Of course not," said Ojo.
"You were crazy to act so badly and get
thrown outdoors," remarked Bungle, as they
renewed their journey.
"That's all right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't
been thrown out I wouldn't have seen the stars,
nor the big gray wolf."
"What wolf?" inquired Ojo.
"The one that came to the door of the house
three times during the night."
"I don't see why that should be," said the
boy, thoughtfully; "there was plenty to eat in
that house, for I had a fine breakfast, and I
slept in a nice bed."
"Don't you feel tired?" asked the Patchwork
Girl, noticing that the boy yawned.
"Why, yes; I'm as tired as I was last night;
and yet I slept very well."
"And aren't you hungry?"
"It's strange," replied Ojo. "I had a good
breakfast, and yet I think I'll now eat some of
my crackers and cheese."
Scraps danced up and down the path. Then
she sang:
"Kizzle-kazzle-kore;
The wolf is at the door,
There's nothing to eat but a bone without meat,
And a bill from the grocery store."
"What does that mean?" asked Ojo.
"Don't ask me," replied Scraps. "I say what
comes into my head, but of course I know nothing
of a grocery store or bones without meat or
very much else."
"No," said the cat; "she's stark, staring,
raving crazy, and her brains can't be pink, for
they don't work properly."
"Bother the brains!" cried Scraps. "Who cares
for 'em, anyhow? Have you noticed how beautiful my
patches are in this sunlight?"
Just then they heard a sound as of footsteps
pattering along the path behind them and all three
turned to see what was coming. To their
astonishment they beheld a small round table
running as fast as its four spindle legs could
carry it, and to the top was screwed fast a
phonograph with a big gold horn.
"Hold on!" shouted the phonograph. "Wait for
me!"
"Goodness me; it's that music thing which the
Crooked Magician scattered the Powder of Life
over," said Ojo.
"So it is," returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of
voice; and then, as the phonographovertook them,
the Glass Cat added sternly: "What are you doing
here, anyhow?"
"I've run away," said the music thing. "After
you left, old Dr. Pipt and I had a dreadful
quarrel and he threatened to smash me to pieces if
I didn't keep quiet. Of course I wouldn't do that,
because a talking-machine is supposed to talk and
make a noise--and sometimes music. So I slipped out
of the house while the Magician was stirring his
four kettles and I've been running after you all
night. Now that I've found such pleasant company,
I can talk and play tunes all I want to."
Ojo was greatly annoyed by this unwelcome
addition to their party. At first he did not know
what to say to the newcomer, but a little thought
decided him not to make friends.
"We are traveling on important business," he
declared, "and you'll excuse me if I say we can't
be bothered."
"How very impolite!" exclaimed the phonograph.
"I'm sorry; but it's true," said the boy. "You'll
have to go somewhere else."
"This is very unkindtreatment, I must say,
whined the phonograph, in an injured tone.
"Everyone seems to hate me, and yet I was intended
to amuse people."
"It isn't you we hate, especially," observed
the Glass Cat; "it's your dreadful music. When
I lived in the same room with you I was much
annoyed by your squeaky horn. It growls and
grumbles and clicks and scratches so it spoils
the music, and your machinery rumbles so that
the racket drowns every tune you attempt."
"That isn't my fault; it's the fault of my
records. I must admit that I haven't a clear
record," answered the machine.
"Just the same, you'll have to go away," said
Ojo.
"Wait a minute," cried Scraps. "This music
thing interests me. I remember to have heard
music when I first came to life, and I would like
to hear it again. What is your name, my poor
abused phonograph?"
"Victor Columbia Edison," it answered.
"Well, I shall call you 'Vic' for short," said
the Patchwork Girl. "Go ahead and play something."
"It'll drive you crazy," warned the cat.
"I'm crazy now, according to your statement.
Loosen up and reel out the music, Vic."
"The only record I have with me," explained
the phonograph, "is one the Magician attached
just before we had our quarrel. It's a highly
classical composition."
"A what?" inquired Scraps.
"It is classical music, and is considered the
best and most puzzling ever manufactured.
You're supposed to like it, whether you do or
not, and if you don't, the proper thing is to look
as if you did. Understand?"
"Not in the least," said Scraps.
"Then, listen!"
At once the machine began to play and in a
few minutes Ojo put his hands to his ears to
shut out the sounds and the cat snarled and
Scraps began to Jaugh.
Patchwork Girl.
"Here, here! You are making altogether too
much noise," cried the Voice they had heard
before. "Keep quiet, strangers, and go to bed."
The cat, which could see in the dark, looked
sharply around for the owner of the Voice, hut
could discover no one, although the Voice had
seemed close beside them. She arched her back
a little and seemed afraid. Then she whispered
to Ojo: "Come!" and led him to a bed.
With his hands the boy felt of the bed and
found it was big and soft, with feather pillows
and plenty of blankets. So he took off his shoes
and hat and crept into the bed. Then the cat
led Scraps to another bed and the Patchwork
Girl was puzzled to know what to do with it.
"Lie down and keep quiet," whispered the
cat, warningly.
"Can't I sing?" asked Scraps.
"Can't I whistle?" asked Scraps.
"Can't I dance till morning, if I want to?"
asked Scraps.
"You must keep quiet," said the cat, in a soft
voice.
"I don't want to," replied the Patchwork Girl,
speaking as loudly as usual. "What right have you
to order me around? If I want to talk, or yell, or
whistle--"
Before she could say anything more an unseen
hand seized her firmly and threw her out of the
door, which closed behind her with a sharp
slam. She found herself bumping and rolling in
the road and when she got up and tried to open
the door of the house again she found it locked.
"What has happened to Scraps?" asked Ojo.
"Never mind. Let's go to sleep, or something
will happen to us," answered the Glass Cat.
So Ojo snuggled down in his bed and fell
asleep, and he was so tired that he never
wakened until broad daylight.
Chapter Seven
The Troublesome Phonograph
When the boy opened his eyes next morning he
looked carefully around the room. These small
Munchkin houses seldom had more than one room in
them. That in which Ojo now found himself had
three beds, set all in a row on one side of it.
The Glass Cat lay asleep on one bed, Ojo was in
the second, and the third was neatly made up and
smoothed for the day. On the other side of the
room was a round table on which breakfast was
already placed, smoking hot. Only one chair was
drawn up to the table, where a place was set for
one person. No one seemed to be in the room except
the boy and Bungle.
Ojo got up and put on his shoes. Finding a
toilet stand at the head of his bed he washed his
face and hands and brushed his hair. Then he
went to the table and said:
"I wonder if this is my breakfast?"
"Eat it!" commanded a Voice at his side, so
near that Ojo jumped; But no person could he
see.
He was hungry, and the breakfast looked
good; so he sat down and ate all he wanted.
Then, rising, he took his hat and wakened the
Glass Cat.
"Come on, Bungle," said he; "we must go.
He cast another glance about the room and,
speaking to the air, he said: "Whoever lives here
has been kind to me, and I'm much obliged."
There was no answer, so he took his basket
and went out the door, the cat following him.
In the middle of the path sat the Patchwork
Girl, playing with pebbles she had picked up.
"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed cheerfully.
"I thought you were never coming out. It has been
daylight a long time."
"What did you do all night?" asked the boy.
"Sat here and watched the stars and the
moon," she replied. "They're interesting. I never
saw them before, you know."
"Of course not," said Ojo.
"You were crazy to act so badly and get
thrown outdoors," remarked Bungle, as they
renewed their journey.
"That's all right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't
been thrown out I wouldn't have seen the stars,
nor the big gray wolf."
"What wolf?" inquired Ojo.
"The one that came to the door of the house
three times during the night."
"I don't see why that should be," said the
boy, thoughtfully; "there was plenty to eat in
that house, for I had a fine breakfast, and I
slept in a nice bed."
"Don't you feel tired?" asked the Patchwork
Girl, noticing that the boy yawned.
"Why, yes; I'm as tired as I was last night;
and yet I slept very well."
"And aren't you hungry?"
"It's strange," replied Ojo. "I had a good
breakfast, and yet I think I'll now eat some of
my crackers and cheese."
Scraps danced up and down the path. Then
she sang:
"Kizzle-kazzle-kore;
The wolf is at the door,
There's nothing to eat but a bone without meat,
And a bill from the grocery store."
"What does that mean?" asked Ojo.
"Don't ask me," replied Scraps. "I say what
comes into my head, but of course I know nothing
of a grocery store or bones without meat or
very much else."
"No," said the cat; "she's stark, staring,
raving crazy, and her brains can't be pink, for
they don't work properly."
"Bother the brains!" cried Scraps. "Who cares
for 'em, anyhow? Have you noticed how beautiful my
patches are in this sunlight?"
Just then they heard a sound as of footsteps
pattering along the path behind them and all three
turned to see what was coming. To their
astonishment they beheld a small round table
running as fast as its four spindle legs could
carry it, and to the top was screwed fast a
phonograph with a big gold horn.
"Hold on!" shouted the phonograph. "Wait for
me!"
"Goodness me; it's that music thing which the
Crooked Magician scattered the Powder of Life
over," said Ojo.
"So it is," returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of
voice; and then, as the phonographovertook them,
the Glass Cat added sternly: "What are you doing
here, anyhow?"
"I've run away," said the music thing. "After
you left, old Dr. Pipt and I had a dreadful
quarrel and he threatened to smash me to pieces if
I didn't keep quiet. Of course I wouldn't do that,
because a talking-machine is supposed to talk and
make a noise--and sometimes music. So I slipped out
of the house while the Magician was stirring his
four kettles and I've been running after you all
night. Now that I've found such pleasant company,
I can talk and play tunes all I want to."
Ojo was greatly annoyed by this unwelcome
addition to their party. At first he did not know
what to say to the newcomer, but a little thought
decided him not to make friends.
"We are traveling on important business," he
declared, "and you'll excuse me if I say we can't
be bothered."
"How very impolite!" exclaimed the phonograph.
"I'm sorry; but it's true," said the boy. "You'll
have to go somewhere else."
"This is very unkindtreatment, I must say,
whined the phonograph, in an injured tone.
"Everyone seems to hate me, and yet I was intended
to amuse people."
"It isn't you we hate, especially," observed
the Glass Cat; "it's your dreadful music. When
I lived in the same room with you I was much
annoyed by your squeaky horn. It growls and
grumbles and clicks and scratches so it spoils
the music, and your machinery rumbles so that
the racket drowns every tune you attempt."
"That isn't my fault; it's the fault of my
records. I must admit that I haven't a clear
record," answered the machine.
"Just the same, you'll have to go away," said
Ojo.
"Wait a minute," cried Scraps. "This music
thing interests me. I remember to have heard
music when I first came to life, and I would like
to hear it again. What is your name, my poor
abused phonograph?"
"Victor Columbia Edison," it answered.
"Well, I shall call you 'Vic' for short," said
the Patchwork Girl. "Go ahead and play something."
"It'll drive you crazy," warned the cat.
"I'm crazy now, according to your statement.
Loosen up and reel out the music, Vic."
"The only record I have with me," explained
the phonograph, "is one the Magician attached
just before we had our quarrel. It's a highly
classical composition."
"A what?" inquired Scraps.
"It is classical music, and is considered the
best and most puzzling ever manufactured.
You're supposed to like it, whether you do or
not, and if you don't, the proper thing is to look
as if you did. Understand?"
"Not in the least," said Scraps.
"Then, listen!"
At once the machine began to play and in a
few minutes Ojo put his hands to his ears to
shut out the sounds and the cat snarled and
Scraps began to Jaugh.
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə]
ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词) - feather [´feðə] n.羽毛 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- beheld [bi´held] behold的过去式(分词) (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- treatment [´tri:tmənt] n.待遇；对待；治疗 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- columbia [kə´lʌmbiə] n.哥伦比亚 (初中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtfully [´θɔ:tfuli] ad.深思地；体贴地 (高中英语单词)
- grocery [´grəusəri] n.食品杂货店 (高中英语单词)
- magician [mə´dʒiʃən] n.魔法师；妖道；术士 (高中英语单词)
- sternly [´stə:nli] ad.严厉地；坚定地 (高中英语单词)
- newcomer [´nju:,kʌmə] n.新来的人；移民 (高中英语单词)
- racket [´rækit] n.(网球等的)拍；球拍 (高中英语单词)
- spindle [´spindl] n.纱锭；锭子；轴 (英语四级单词)
- phonograph [´fəunəgrɑ:f] n.留声机 (英语四级单词)
- overtook [,əuvə´tuk] overtake的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- stirring [´stə:riŋ] a.活跃的；热闹的 (英语四级单词)
- unkind [,ʌn´kaind] a.不客气的；不和善的 (英语四级单词)
- classical [´klæsikəl] a.经典的；传统的 (英语四级单词)
- arched [´ɑ:tʃid] a.弓形(结构)的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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