章节正文
mouth was large and so were her eyes, which looked green in
some lights and moods and gray in others.
So far, the ordinary observer; an extraordinaryobserver
might have seen that the chin was very pointed and
pronounced; that the big eyes were full of spirit and
vivacity; that the mouth was sweet-lipped and expressive;
that the forehead was broad and full; in short, our
discerning extraordinaryobserver might have concluded that
no commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-
child of whom shy Matthew Cuthbert was so ludicrously afraid.
Matthew, however, was spared the ordeal of speaking first,
for as soon as she concluded that he was coming to her she
stood up, grasping with one thin brown hand the handle of a
shabby, old-fashioned carpet-bag; the other she held out to him.
"I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?"
she said in a peculiarly clear, sweet voice. "I'm very
glad to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you
weren't coming for me and I was imagining all the things
that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up my
mind that if you didn't come for me to-night I'd go down the
track to that big wild cherry-tree at the bend, and climb up
into it to stay all night. I wouldn't be a bit afraid, and
it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white
with bloom in the moonshine, don't you think? You could
imagine you were dwelling in marble halls, couldn't you?
And I was quite sure you would come for me in the morning,
if you didn't to-night."
Matthew had taken the scrawny little hand awkwardly in his;
then and there he decided what to do. He could not tell
this child with the glowing eyes that there had been a
mistake; he would take her home and let Marilla do that.
She couldn't be left at Bright River anyhow, no matter what
mistake had been made, so all questions and explanations might
as well be deferred until he was safely back at Green Gables.
"I'm sorry I was late," he said shyly. "Come along.
The horse is over in the yard. Give me your bag."
"Oh, I can carry it," the child responded cheerfully. "It
isn't heavy. I've got all my worldly goods in it, but it
isn't heavy. And if it isn't carried in just a certain way
the handle pulls out--so I'd better keep it because I know
the exact knack of it. It's an extremely old carpet-bag.
Oh, I'm very glad you've come, even if it would have been
nice to sleep in a wild cherry-tree. We've got to drive a
long piece, haven't we? Mrs. Spencer said it was eight
miles. I'm glad because I love driving. Oh, it seems so
wonderful that I'm going to live with you and belong to you.
I've never belonged to anybody--not really. But the asylum
was the worst. I've only been in it four months, but that
was enough. I don't suppose you ever were an orphan in an
asylum, so you can't possibly understand what it is like.
It's worse than anything you could imagine. Mrs. Spencer
said it was wicked of me to talk like that, but I didn't
mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without
knowing it, isn't it? They were good, you know--the asylum
people. But there is so little scope for the imagination in
an asylum--only just in the other orphans. It was pretty
interesting to imagine things about them--to imagine that
perhaps the girl who sat next to you was really the daughter
of a belted earl, who had been stolen away from her parents
in her infancy by a cruel nurse who died before she could
confess. I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things
like that, because I didn't have time in the day. I guess
that's why I'm so thin--I AM dreadful thin, ain't I? There
isn't a pick on my bones. I do love to imagine I'm nice and
plump, with dimples in my elbows."
With this Matthew's companion stopped talking, partly
because she was out of breath and partly because they had
reached the buggy. Not another word did she say until they
had left the village and were driving down a steep little
hill, the road part of which had been cut so deeply into the
soft soil, that the banks, fringed with blooming wild
cherry-trees and slim white birches, were several feet
above their heads.
The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of
wild plum that brushed against the side of the buggy.
"Isn't that beautiful? What did that tree, leaning out from
the bank, all white and lacy, make you think of?" she asked.
"Well now, I dunno," said Matthew.
"Why, a bride, of course--a bride all in white with a
lovely misty veil. I've never seen one, but I can imagine
what she would look like. I don't ever expect to be a bride
myself. I'm so homely nobody will ever want to marry me--
unless it might be a foreign missionary. I suppose a
foreign missionary mightn't be very particular. But I do
hope that some day I shall have a white dress. That is my
highest ideal of earthly bliss. I just love pretty clothes.
And I've never had a pretty dress in my life that I can
remember--but of course it's all the more to look forward
to, isn't it? And then I can imagine that I'm dressed
gorgeously. This morning when I left the asylum I felt so
ashamed because I had to wear this horrid old wincey dress.
All the orphans had to wear them, you know. A merchant in
Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of wincey to
the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn't
sell it, but I'd rather believe that it was out of the
kindness of his heart, wouldn't you? When we got on the
train I felt as if everybody must be looking at me and
pitying me. But I just went to work and imagined that I had
on the most beautiful pale blue silk dress--because when you
ARE imagining you might as well imagine something worth
while--and a big hat all flowers and nodding plumes, and a
gold watch, and kid gloves and boots. I felt cheered up
right away and I enjoyed my trip to the Island with all my
might. I wasn't a bit sick coming over in the boat.
Neither was Mrs. Spencer although she generally is. She
said she hadn't time to get sick, watching to see that I
didn't fall overboard. She said she never saw the beat of
me for prowling about. But if it kept her from being
seasick it's a mercy I did prowl, isn't it? And I wanted to
see everything that was to be seen on that boat, because I
didn't know whether I'd ever have another opportunity. Oh,
there are a lot more cherry-trees all in bloom! This Island
is the bloomiest place. I just love it already, and I'm so
glad I'm going to live here. I've always heard that Prince
Edward Island was the prettiest place in the world, and I
used to imagine I was living here, but I never really
expected I would. It's delightful when your imaginations
come true, isn't it? But those red roads are so funny.
When we got into the train at Charlottetown and the red
roads began to flash past I asked Mrs. Spencer what made
them red and she said she didn't know and for pity's sake
not to ask her any more questions. She said I must have
asked her a thousand already. I suppose I had, too, but how
you going to find out about things if you don't ask
questions? And what DOES make the roads red?"
"Well now, I dunno," said Matthew.
"Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime.
Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to
find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--
it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so
interesting if we know all about everything, would it?
There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there? But
am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do.
Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I
can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult."
Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself.
Like most quiet folks he liked talkative people when they
were willing to do the talking themselves and did not expect
him to keep up his end of it. But he had never expected to
enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad enough
in all conscience, but little girls were worse. He detested
the way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise
glances, as if they expected him to gobble them up at a
mouthful if they ventured to say a word. That was the
Avonlea type of well-bred little girl. But this freckled
witch was very different, and although he found it rather
difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her
brisk mental processes he thought that he "kind of liked her
chatter." So he said as shyly as usual:
"Oh, you can talk as much as you like. I don't mind."
"Oh, I'm so glad. I know you and I are going to get along
together fine. It's such a relief to talk when one wants to
and not be told that children should be seen and not heard.
I've had that said to me a million times if I have once.
And people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you
have big ideas you have to use big words to express them,
haven't you?"
"Well now, that seems reasonable," said Matthew.
"Mrs. Spencer said that my tongue must be hung in the
middle. But it isn't--it's firmly fastened at one end.
Mrs. Spencer said your place was named Green Gables. I
asked her all about it. And she said there were trees all
around it. I was gladder than ever. I just love trees.
And there weren't any at all about the asylum, only a few
poor weeny-teeny things out in front with little whitewashed
cagey things about them. They just looked like orphans
themselves, those trees did. It used to make me want to cry
to look at them. I used to say to them, `Oh, you POOR
little things! If you were out in a great big woods with
other trees all around you and little mosses and Junebells
growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds
singing in you branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But
you can't where you are. I know just exactly how you feel,
little trees.' I felt sorry to leave them behind this morning.
You do get so attached to things like that, don't you?
Is there a brook anywhere near Green Gables? I forgot to ask
Mrs. Spencer that."
"Well now, yes, there's one right below the house."
"Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live near a
brook. I never expected I would, though. Dreams don't
often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did?
But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't
feel exactly perfectly happy because--well, what color would
you call this?"
She twitched one of her long glossy braids over her thin
shoulder and held it up before Matthew's eyes. Matthew was
not used to deciding on the tints of ladies' tresses, but in
this case there couldn't be much doubt.
"It's red, ain't it?" he said.
The girl let the braid drop back with a sigh that seemed to
come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows
of the ages.
"Yes, it's red," she said resignedly. "Now you see why I
can't be perfectly happy. Nobody could who has red hair. I
don't mind the other things so much--the freckles and the
green eyes and my skinniness. I can imagine them away. I
can imagine that I have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion and
lovely starryviolet eyes. But I CANNOT imagine that red
hair away. I do my best. I think to myself, `Now my hair
is a glorious black, black as the raven's wing.' But all
the time I KNOW it is just plain red and it breaks my heart.
some lights and moods and gray in others.
So far, the ordinary observer; an extraordinaryobserver
might have seen that the chin was very pointed and
pronounced; that the big eyes were full of spirit and
vivacity; that the mouth was sweet-lipped and expressive;
that the forehead was broad and full; in short, our
discerning extraordinaryobserver might have concluded that
no commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-
child of whom shy Matthew Cuthbert was so ludicrously afraid.
Matthew, however, was spared the ordeal of speaking first,
for as soon as she concluded that he was coming to her she
stood up, grasping with one thin brown hand the handle of a
shabby, old-fashioned carpet-bag; the other she held out to him.
"I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?"
she said in a peculiarly clear, sweet voice. "I'm very
glad to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you
weren't coming for me and I was imagining all the things
that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up my
mind that if you didn't come for me to-night I'd go down the
track to that big wild cherry-tree at the bend, and climb up
into it to stay all night. I wouldn't be a bit afraid, and
it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white
with bloom in the moonshine, don't you think? You could
imagine you were dwelling in marble halls, couldn't you?
And I was quite sure you would come for me in the morning,
if you didn't to-night."
Matthew had taken the scrawny little hand awkwardly in his;
then and there he decided what to do. He could not tell
this child with the glowing eyes that there had been a
mistake; he would take her home and let Marilla do that.
She couldn't be left at Bright River anyhow, no matter what
mistake had been made, so all questions and explanations might
as well be deferred until he was safely back at Green Gables.
"I'm sorry I was late," he said shyly. "Come along.
The horse is over in the yard. Give me your bag."
"Oh, I can carry it," the child responded cheerfully. "It
isn't heavy. I've got all my worldly goods in it, but it
isn't heavy. And if it isn't carried in just a certain way
the handle pulls out--so I'd better keep it because I know
the exact knack of it. It's an extremely old carpet-bag.
Oh, I'm very glad you've come, even if it would have been
nice to sleep in a wild cherry-tree. We've got to drive a
long piece, haven't we? Mrs. Spencer said it was eight
miles. I'm glad because I love driving. Oh, it seems so
wonderful that I'm going to live with you and belong to you.
I've never belonged to anybody--not really. But the asylum
was the worst. I've only been in it four months, but that
was enough. I don't suppose you ever were an orphan in an
asylum, so you can't possibly understand what it is like.
It's worse than anything you could imagine. Mrs. Spencer
said it was wicked of me to talk like that, but I didn't
mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without
knowing it, isn't it? They were good, you know--the asylum
people. But there is so little scope for the imagination in
an asylum--only just in the other orphans. It was pretty
interesting to imagine things about them--to imagine that
perhaps the girl who sat next to you was really the daughter
of a belted earl, who had been stolen away from her parents
in her infancy by a cruel nurse who died before she could
confess. I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things
like that, because I didn't have time in the day. I guess
that's why I'm so thin--I AM dreadful thin, ain't I? There
isn't a pick on my bones. I do love to imagine I'm nice and
plump, with dimples in my elbows."
With this Matthew's companion stopped talking, partly
because she was out of breath and partly because they had
reached the buggy. Not another word did she say until they
had left the village and were driving down a steep little
hill, the road part of which had been cut so deeply into the
soft soil, that the banks, fringed with blooming wild
cherry-trees and slim white birches, were several feet
above their heads.
The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of
wild plum that brushed against the side of the buggy.
"Isn't that beautiful? What did that tree, leaning out from
the bank, all white and lacy, make you think of?" she asked.
"Well now, I dunno," said Matthew.
"Why, a bride, of course--a bride all in white with a
lovely misty veil. I've never seen one, but I can imagine
what she would look like. I don't ever expect to be a bride
myself. I'm so homely nobody will ever want to marry me--
unless it might be a foreign missionary. I suppose a
foreign missionary mightn't be very particular. But I do
hope that some day I shall have a white dress. That is my
highest ideal of earthly bliss. I just love pretty clothes.
And I've never had a pretty dress in my life that I can
remember--but of course it's all the more to look forward
to, isn't it? And then I can imagine that I'm dressed
gorgeously. This morning when I left the asylum I felt so
ashamed because I had to wear this horrid old wincey dress.
All the orphans had to wear them, you know. A merchant in
Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of wincey to
the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn't
sell it, but I'd rather believe that it was out of the
kindness of his heart, wouldn't you? When we got on the
train I felt as if everybody must be looking at me and
pitying me. But I just went to work and imagined that I had
on the most beautiful pale blue silk dress--because when you
ARE imagining you might as well imagine something worth
while--and a big hat all flowers and nodding plumes, and a
gold watch, and kid gloves and boots. I felt cheered up
right away and I enjoyed my trip to the Island with all my
might. I wasn't a bit sick coming over in the boat.
Neither was Mrs. Spencer although she generally is. She
said she hadn't time to get sick, watching to see that I
didn't fall overboard. She said she never saw the beat of
me for prowling about. But if it kept her from being
seasick it's a mercy I did prowl, isn't it? And I wanted to
see everything that was to be seen on that boat, because I
didn't know whether I'd ever have another opportunity. Oh,
there are a lot more cherry-trees all in bloom! This Island
is the bloomiest place. I just love it already, and I'm so
glad I'm going to live here. I've always heard that Prince
Edward Island was the prettiest place in the world, and I
used to imagine I was living here, but I never really
expected I would. It's delightful when your imaginations
come true, isn't it? But those red roads are so funny.
When we got into the train at Charlottetown and the red
roads began to flash past I asked Mrs. Spencer what made
them red and she said she didn't know and for pity's sake
not to ask her any more questions. She said I must have
asked her a thousand already. I suppose I had, too, but how
you going to find out about things if you don't ask
questions? And what DOES make the roads red?"
"Well now, I dunno," said Matthew.
"Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime.
Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to
find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--
it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so
interesting if we know all about everything, would it?
There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there? But
am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do.
Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I
can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult."
Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself.
Like most quiet folks he liked talkative people when they
were willing to do the talking themselves and did not expect
him to keep up his end of it. But he had never expected to
enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad enough
in all conscience, but little girls were worse. He detested
the way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise
glances, as if they expected him to gobble them up at a
mouthful if they ventured to say a word. That was the
Avonlea type of well-bred little girl. But this freckled
witch was very different, and although he found it rather
difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her
brisk mental processes he thought that he "kind of liked her
chatter." So he said as shyly as usual:
"Oh, you can talk as much as you like. I don't mind."
"Oh, I'm so glad. I know you and I are going to get along
together fine. It's such a relief to talk when one wants to
and not be told that children should be seen and not heard.
I've had that said to me a million times if I have once.
And people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you
have big ideas you have to use big words to express them,
haven't you?"
"Well now, that seems reasonable," said Matthew.
"Mrs. Spencer said that my tongue must be hung in the
middle. But it isn't--it's firmly fastened at one end.
Mrs. Spencer said your place was named Green Gables. I
asked her all about it. And she said there were trees all
around it. I was gladder than ever. I just love trees.
And there weren't any at all about the asylum, only a few
poor weeny-teeny things out in front with little whitewashed
cagey things about them. They just looked like orphans
themselves, those trees did. It used to make me want to cry
to look at them. I used to say to them, `Oh, you POOR
little things! If you were out in a great big woods with
other trees all around you and little mosses and Junebells
growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds
singing in you branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But
you can't where you are. I know just exactly how you feel,
little trees.' I felt sorry to leave them behind this morning.
You do get so attached to things like that, don't you?
Is there a brook anywhere near Green Gables? I forgot to ask
Mrs. Spencer that."
"Well now, yes, there's one right below the house."
"Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live near a
brook. I never expected I would, though. Dreams don't
often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did?
But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't
feel exactly perfectly happy because--well, what color would
you call this?"
She twitched one of her long glossy braids over her thin
shoulder and held it up before Matthew's eyes. Matthew was
not used to deciding on the tints of ladies' tresses, but in
this case there couldn't be much doubt.
"It's red, ain't it?" he said.
The girl let the braid drop back with a sigh that seemed to
come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows
of the ages.
"Yes, it's red," she said resignedly. "Now you see why I
can't be perfectly happy. Nobody could who has red hair. I
don't mind the other things so much--the freckles and the
green eyes and my skinniness. I can imagine them away. I
can imagine that I have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion and
lovely starryviolet eyes. But I CANNOT imagine that red
hair away. I do my best. I think to myself, `Now my hair
is a glorious black, black as the raven's wing.' But all
the time I KNOW it is just plain red and it breaks my heart.
- observer [əb´zə:və]
n.遵守者；观察员 (初中英语单词) - extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- forehead [´fɔrid] n.额，前部 (初中英语单词)
- old-fashioned [´əuld´feʃənd] a.老式的；过时的 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- dwelling [´dweliŋ] n.住所；寓所 (初中英语单词)
- marble [´mɑ:bəl] n.大理石 a.大理石的 (初中英语单词)
- safely [´seifli] ad.安全地；平安地 (初中英语单词)
- extremely [ik´stri:mli] ad.极端地；非常地 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- imagination [i,mædʒi´neiʃən] n.想象(力) (初中英语单词)
- stolen [´stəulən] steal 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- partly [´pɑ:tli] ad.部分地；不完全地 (初中英语单词)
- delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- conscience [´kɔnʃəns] n.良心；道德心 (初中英语单词)
- intelligence [in´telidʒəns] n.智力；消息 (初中英语单词)
- mental [´mentl] a.精神的；心理的 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- violet [´vaiələt] n.&a.紫罗兰(的)；紫色 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- cheerfully [´tʃiəfuli] ad.高兴地，愉快地 (高中英语单词)
- orphan [´ɔ:fən] n.&a.孤儿 vt.使成孤儿 (高中英语单词)
- homely [´həumli] a.朴素的；不漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- missionary [´miʃənəri] a.传教(士)的 n.传教士 (高中英语单词)
- earthly [´ə:θli] a.地球的；世俗的 (高中英语单词)
- horrid [´hɔrid] a.令人讨厌的；极糟的 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- complexion [kəm´plekʃən] n.肤色；情况；局面 (高中英语单词)
- commonplace [´kɔmənpleis] a.平凡的；常见的 (英语四级单词)
- peculiarly [pi´kju:liəli] ad.特有地；古怪地 (英语四级单词)
- awkwardly [´ɔ:kwədli] a.笨拙地；棘手地 (英语四级单词)
- worldly [´wə:ldli] a.现世的；世俗的 (英语四级单词)
- infancy [´infənsi] n.婴儿期；初期 (英语四级单词)
- blooming [´blu:miŋ] a.正开花的；妙龄的 (英语四级单词)
- overboard [´əuvəbɔ:d] ad.向船外；到水中 (英语四级单词)
- starry [´stɑ:ri] a.星光照耀的，闪亮的 (英语四级单词)
- ordeal [ɔ:´di:l] n.严峻考验；折磨 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- spencer [´spensə] n.(羊毛)短上衣 (英语六级单词)
- asylum [ə´sailəm] n.避难所，收容所 (英语六级单词)
- timidly [´timidli] ad.胆怯地 (英语六级单词)
- gobble [´gɔbəl] v.狼吞虎咽 n.咯咯声 (英语六级单词)
- glossy [´glɔsi] a.光滑的，有光泽的 (英语六级单词)
- exhale [eks´heil] v.散出，吐出；蒸发 (英语六级单词)
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