章节正文
"I hope your friends are not dignified,"
observed Scraps.
"Some are, and some are not," he answered;
"but I never criticise my friends. If they are
really true friends; they may be anything they
like, for all of me."
"There's some sense in that," said Scraps,
nodding her queer head in approval. "Come on, and
let's get to the Emerald City as soon as
possible." With this she ran up the path, skipping
and dancing, and then turned to await them.
"It is quite a distance from here to the Emerald
City," remarked the Shaggy Man, "so we shall not
get there to-day, nor to-morrow. Therefore let us
take the jaunt in an easy manner. I'm an old
traveler and have found that I never gain anything
by being in a hurry. 'Take it easy' is my motto.
If you can't take it easy, take it as easy as you
can."
After walking some distance over the road of
yellow bricks Ojo said he was hungry and would
stop to eat some bread and cheese. He offered a
portion of the food to the Shaggy Man, who thanked
him but refused it.
"When I start out on my travels," said he,
"I carry along enough square meals to last me
several weeks. Think I'll indulge in one now,
as long as we're stopping anyway."
Saying this, he took a bottle from his pocket
and shook from it a tablet about the size of one
of Ojo's finger-nails.
"That," announced the Shaggy Man, "is a square
meal, in condensed form. Invention of the great
Professor Woggle-Bug, of the Royal College of
Athletics. It contains soup, fish, roast meat,
salad, apple-dumplings, ice cream and chocolate-
drops, all boiled down to this small size, so it
can be conveniently carried and swallowed when you
are hungry and need a square meal."
"I'm square," said the Woozy. "Give me one,
please."
So the Shaggy Man gave the Woozy a tablet from
his bottle and the beast ate it in a twinkling.
"You have now had a six course dinner,"
declared the Shaggy Man.
"Pshaw!" said the Woozy, ungratefully, "I
want to taste something. There's no fun in that
sort of eating."
"One should only eat to sustain life," replied
the Shaggy Man, "and that tablet is equal to a
peck of other food."
"I don't care for it. I want something I can
chew and taste," grumbled the Woozy.
"You are quite wrong, my poor beast," said
the Shaggy Man in a tone of pity. "Think how
tired your jaws would get chewing a square
meal like this, if it were not condensed to the
size of a small tablet--which you can swallow
in a jiffy."
"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun, maintained
the Woozy. "I always chew the honey-bees when I
catch them. Give me some bread and cheese, Ojo."
"No, no! You've already eaten a big dinner!"
protested the Shaggy Man.
"May be," answered the Woozy; "but I guess
I'll fool myself by munching some bread and
cheese. I may not be hungry, having eaten all
those things you gave me, but I consider this
eating business a matter of taste, and I like to
realize what's going into me."
Ojo gave the beast what he wanted, but the
Shaggy Man shook his shaggy head reproachfully and
said there was no animal so obstinate or hard to
convince as a Woozy.
At this moment a patter of footsteps was heard,
and looking up they saw the live phonograph
standing before them. It seemed to have passed
through many adventures since Ojo and his comrades
last saw the machine, for the varnish of its
wooden case was all marred and dented and
scratched in a way that gave it an aged and
disreputable appearance.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Ojo, staring hard.
"What has happened to you?"
"Nothing much," replied the phonograph in
a sad and depressed voice. "I've had enough
things thrown at me, since I left you, to stock
a department store and furnish half a dozen
bargain-counters."
"Are you so broken up that you can't play?"
asked Scraps.
"No; I still am able to grind out delicious
music. Just now I've a record on tap that is
really superb," said the phonograph, growing more
cheerful.
"That is too bad," remarked Ojo. "We've no
objection to you as a machine, you know; but
as a music-maker we hate you."
"Then why was I ever invented?" demanded
the machine, in a tone of indignant protest.
They looked at one another inquiringly, but
no one could answer such a puzzling question.
Finally the Shaggy Man said:
"I'd like to hear the phonograph play."
Ojo sighed. "We've been very happy since we
met you, sir," he said.
"I know. But a little misery, at times, makes
one appreciate happiness more. Tell me, Phony,
what is this record like, which you say you have
on tap?"
"It's a popular song, sir. In all civilized lands
the common people have gone wild over it."
"Makes civilized folks wild folks, eh? Then
it's dangerous."
"Wild with joy, I mean," explained the
phonograph. "Listen. This song will prove a
rare treat to you, I know. It made the author
rich--for an author. It is called 'My Lulu.'"
Then the phonograph began to play. A strain
of odd, jerky sounds was followed by these
words, sung by a man through his nose with
great vigor of expression:
"Ah wants mah Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu;
Ah wants mah loo-loo, loo-loo, loo-loo, Lu!
Ah loves mah Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu,
There ain't nobody else loves loo-loo, Lu!"
"Here-shut that off!" cried the Shaggy Man,
springing to his feet. "What do you mean by
such impertinence?"
"It's the latest popular song," declared the
phonograph, speaking in a sulky tone of voice.
"A popular song?"
"Yes. One that the feeble-minded can remember
the words of and those ignorant of music can
whistle or sing. That makes a popular song
popular, and the time is coming when it will take
the place of all other songs."
"That time won't come to us, just yet," said
the Shaggy Man, sternly: "I'm something of a
singer myself, and I don't intend to be throttled
by any Lulus like your coal-black one. I shall
take you all apart, Mr. Phony, and scatter your
pieces far and wide over the country, as a matter
of kindness to the people you might meet if
allowed to run around loose. Having performed
this painful duty I shall--"
But before he could say more the phonograph
turned and dashed up the road as fast as its four
table-legs could carry it, and soon it had entirely
disappeared from their view.
The Shaggy Man sat down again and seemed
well pleased. "Some one else will save me the
trouble of scattering that phonograph," said he;
"for it is not possible that such a music-maker
can last long in the Land of Oz. When you are
rested, friends, let us go on our way."
During the afternoon the travelers found
themselves in a lonely and uninhabited part of the
country. Even the fields were no longer cultivated
and the country began to resemble a wilderness.
The road of yellow bricks seemed to have been
neglected and became uneven and more difficult to
walk upon. Scrubby under-brush grew on either side
of the way. while huge rocks were scattered around
in abundance.
But this did not deter Ojo and his friends from
trudging on, and they beguiled the journey with
jokes and cheerful conversation. Toward evening
they reached a crystal spring which gushed from a
tall rock by the roadside and near this spring
stood a deserted cabin. Said the Shaggy Man,
halting here:
"We may as well pass the night here, where
there is shelter for our heads and good water to
drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst
we shall have to travel; so let's wait until
morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to this and Ojo found some brushwood
in the cabin and made a fire on the hearth. The
fire delighted Scraps, who danced before it until
Ojo warned her she might set fire to herself and
burn up. After that the Patchwork Girl kept at a
respectful distance from the darting flames, but
the Woozy lay down before the fire like a big dog
and seemed to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the Shaggy Man ate one of his
tablets, but Ojo stuck to his bread and cheese as
the most satisfying food. He also gave a portion
to the Woozy.
When darkness came on and they sat in a circle
on the cabin floor, facing the firelight--there
being no furniture of any sort in the place--Ojo
said to the Shaggy Man:
"Won't you tell us a story?"
"I'm not good at stories," was the reply; "but
I sing like a bird."
"Raven, or crow?" asked the Glass Cat.
"Like a song bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song
I composed myself. Don't tell anyone I'm a poet;
they might want me to write a book. Don't tell
'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make
observed Scraps.
"Some are, and some are not," he answered;
"but I never criticise my friends. If they are
really true friends; they may be anything they
like, for all of me."
"There's some sense in that," said Scraps,
nodding her queer head in approval. "Come on, and
let's get to the Emerald City as soon as
possible." With this she ran up the path, skipping
and dancing, and then turned to await them.
"It is quite a distance from here to the Emerald
City," remarked the Shaggy Man, "so we shall not
get there to-day, nor to-morrow. Therefore let us
take the jaunt in an easy manner. I'm an old
traveler and have found that I never gain anything
by being in a hurry. 'Take it easy' is my motto.
If you can't take it easy, take it as easy as you
can."
After walking some distance over the road of
yellow bricks Ojo said he was hungry and would
stop to eat some bread and cheese. He offered a
portion of the food to the Shaggy Man, who thanked
him but refused it.
"When I start out on my travels," said he,
"I carry along enough square meals to last me
several weeks. Think I'll indulge in one now,
as long as we're stopping anyway."
Saying this, he took a bottle from his pocket
and shook from it a tablet about the size of one
of Ojo's finger-nails.
"That," announced the Shaggy Man, "is a square
meal, in condensed form. Invention of the great
Professor Woggle-Bug, of the Royal College of
Athletics. It contains soup, fish, roast meat,
salad, apple-dumplings, ice cream and chocolate-
drops, all boiled down to this small size, so it
can be conveniently carried and swallowed when you
are hungry and need a square meal."
"I'm square," said the Woozy. "Give me one,
please."
So the Shaggy Man gave the Woozy a tablet from
his bottle and the beast ate it in a twinkling.
"You have now had a six course dinner,"
declared the Shaggy Man.
"Pshaw!" said the Woozy, ungratefully, "I
want to taste something. There's no fun in that
sort of eating."
"One should only eat to sustain life," replied
the Shaggy Man, "and that tablet is equal to a
peck of other food."
"I don't care for it. I want something I can
chew and taste," grumbled the Woozy.
"You are quite wrong, my poor beast," said
the Shaggy Man in a tone of pity. "Think how
tired your jaws would get chewing a square
meal like this, if it were not condensed to the
size of a small tablet--which you can swallow
in a jiffy."
"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun, maintained
the Woozy. "I always chew the honey-bees when I
catch them. Give me some bread and cheese, Ojo."
"No, no! You've already eaten a big dinner!"
protested the Shaggy Man.
"May be," answered the Woozy; "but I guess
I'll fool myself by munching some bread and
cheese. I may not be hungry, having eaten all
those things you gave me, but I consider this
eating business a matter of taste, and I like to
realize what's going into me."
Ojo gave the beast what he wanted, but the
Shaggy Man shook his shaggy head reproachfully and
said there was no animal so obstinate or hard to
convince as a Woozy.
At this moment a patter of footsteps was heard,
and looking up they saw the live phonograph
standing before them. It seemed to have passed
through many adventures since Ojo and his comrades
last saw the machine, for the varnish of its
wooden case was all marred and dented and
scratched in a way that gave it an aged and
disreputable appearance.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Ojo, staring hard.
"What has happened to you?"
"Nothing much," replied the phonograph in
a sad and depressed voice. "I've had enough
things thrown at me, since I left you, to stock
a department store and furnish half a dozen
bargain-counters."
"Are you so broken up that you can't play?"
asked Scraps.
"No; I still am able to grind out delicious
music. Just now I've a record on tap that is
really superb," said the phonograph, growing more
cheerful.
"That is too bad," remarked Ojo. "We've no
objection to you as a machine, you know; but
as a music-maker we hate you."
"Then why was I ever invented?" demanded
the machine, in a tone of indignant protest.
They looked at one another inquiringly, but
no one could answer such a puzzling question.
Finally the Shaggy Man said:
"I'd like to hear the phonograph play."
Ojo sighed. "We've been very happy since we
met you, sir," he said.
"I know. But a little misery, at times, makes
one appreciate happiness more. Tell me, Phony,
what is this record like, which you say you have
on tap?"
"It's a popular song, sir. In all civilized lands
the common people have gone wild over it."
"Makes civilized folks wild folks, eh? Then
it's dangerous."
"Wild with joy, I mean," explained the
phonograph. "Listen. This song will prove a
rare treat to you, I know. It made the author
rich--for an author. It is called 'My Lulu.'"
Then the phonograph began to play. A strain
of odd, jerky sounds was followed by these
words, sung by a man through his nose with
great vigor of expression:
"Ah wants mah Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu;
Ah wants mah loo-loo, loo-loo, loo-loo, Lu!
Ah loves mah Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu,
There ain't nobody else loves loo-loo, Lu!"
"Here-shut that off!" cried the Shaggy Man,
springing to his feet. "What do you mean by
such impertinence?"
"It's the latest popular song," declared the
phonograph, speaking in a sulky tone of voice.
"A popular song?"
"Yes. One that the feeble-minded can remember
the words of and those ignorant of music can
whistle or sing. That makes a popular song
popular, and the time is coming when it will take
the place of all other songs."
"That time won't come to us, just yet," said
the Shaggy Man, sternly: "I'm something of a
singer myself, and I don't intend to be throttled
by any Lulus like your coal-black one. I shall
take you all apart, Mr. Phony, and scatter your
pieces far and wide over the country, as a matter
of kindness to the people you might meet if
allowed to run around loose. Having performed
this painful duty I shall--"
But before he could say more the phonograph
turned and dashed up the road as fast as its four
table-legs could carry it, and soon it had entirely
disappeared from their view.
The Shaggy Man sat down again and seemed
well pleased. "Some one else will save me the
trouble of scattering that phonograph," said he;
"for it is not possible that such a music-maker
can last long in the Land of Oz. When you are
rested, friends, let us go on our way."
During the afternoon the travelers found
themselves in a lonely and uninhabited part of the
country. Even the fields were no longer cultivated
and the country began to resemble a wilderness.
The road of yellow bricks seemed to have been
neglected and became uneven and more difficult to
walk upon. Scrubby under-brush grew on either side
of the way. while huge rocks were scattered around
in abundance.
But this did not deter Ojo and his friends from
trudging on, and they beguiled the journey with
jokes and cheerful conversation. Toward evening
they reached a crystal spring which gushed from a
tall rock by the roadside and near this spring
stood a deserted cabin. Said the Shaggy Man,
halting here:
"We may as well pass the night here, where
there is shelter for our heads and good water to
drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst
we shall have to travel; so let's wait until
morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to this and Ojo found some brushwood
in the cabin and made a fire on the hearth. The
fire delighted Scraps, who danced before it until
Ojo warned her she might set fire to herself and
burn up. After that the Patchwork Girl kept at a
respectful distance from the darting flames, but
the Woozy lay down before the fire like a big dog
and seemed to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the Shaggy Man ate one of his
tablets, but Ojo stuck to his bread and cheese as
the most satisfying food. He also gave a portion
to the Woozy.
When darkness came on and they sat in a circle
on the cabin floor, facing the firelight--there
being no furniture of any sort in the place--Ojo
said to the Shaggy Man:
"Won't you tell us a story?"
"I'm not good at stories," was the reply; "but
I sing like a bird."
"Raven, or crow?" asked the Glass Cat.
"Like a song bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song
I composed myself. Don't tell anyone I'm a poet;
they might want me to write a book. Don't tell
'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:]
ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词) - cheese [tʃi:z] n.干酪，乳酪 (初中英语单词)
- invention [in´venʃən] n.创造；发明；虚构 (初中英语单词)
- sustain [sə´stein] vt.支撑；蒙受；确认 (初中英语单词)
- misery [´mizəri] n.痛苦；悲惨；穷困 (初中英语单词)
- appreciate [ə´pri:ʃieit] v.评价；珍惜；感激 (初中英语单词)
- ignorant [´ignərənt] a.无知的，愚昧的 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- resemble [ri´zembəl] vt.类似，象 (初中英语单词)
- cheerful [´tʃiəful] a.快乐的；高兴的 (初中英语单词)
- crystal [´kristəl] n.水晶 a.水晶的 (初中英语单词)
- criticise [´kritisaiz] v.批评；批判；评论 (高中英语单词)
- approval [ə´pru:vəl] n.赞成，批准，认可 (高中英语单词)
- indulge [in´dʌldʒ] v.(使)沉迷；沉溺；放任 (高中英语单词)
- tablet [´tæblit] n.碑；牌；匾额 (高中英语单词)
- civilized [´sivilaizd] a.先进的；文明的 (高中英语单词)
- sternly [´stə:nli] ad.严厉地；坚定地 (高中英语单词)
- painful [´peinfəl] a.痛(苦)的；费力的 (高中英语单词)
- tackle [´tækəl] n.用具；装置 vt.处理 (高中英语单词)
- hearth [hɑ:θ] n.炉边；家庭(生活) (高中英语单词)
- emerald [´emərəld] n.纯绿宝石；翠绿色 (英语四级单词)
- shaggy [´ʃægi] a.蓬乱的；多粗毛的 (英语四级单词)
- conveniently [kən´vi:njəntli] ad.方便地；合宜地 (英语四级单词)
- tiresome [´taiəsəm] a.令人厌倦的；讨厌的 (英语四级单词)
- obstinate [´ɔbstinit] a.顽固的；(病)难治的 (英语四级单词)
- patter [´pætə] n.行话 v.喋喋不休 (英语四级单词)
- phonograph [´fəunəgrɑ:f] n.留声机 (英语四级单词)
- indignant [in´dignənt] a.义愤的，愤慨的 (英语四级单词)
- uneven [ʌn´i:vən] a.崎岖的；不匀的 (英语四级单词)
- roadside [´rəudsaid] n.&a.路边(的) (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- composed [kəm´pəuzd] a.镇静自若的 (英语四级单词)
- varnish [´vɑ:niʃ] n.清漆 vt.上清漆；粉饰 (英语六级单词)
- depressed [di´prest] a.消沉的；萧条的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
