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The Warden-Part6_Antony Trollope(1815-1882)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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that the other doubters would follow as he led them. A petition



signed by half the hospital would have but a poor effect.

It was in Skulpit's room that the petition was now lying,



waiting such additionalsignatures as Abel Handy, by his

eloquence, could obtain for it. The six marks it bore were



duly attested, thus:

his his his



Abel X Handy, Gregory X Moody, Mathew X Spriggs,

mark mark mark



&c., and places were duly designated in pencil for those

brethren who were now expected to join: for Skulpit alone



was left a spot on which his genuinesignature might be written

in fair clerk-like style. Handy had brought in the document,



and spread it out on the small deal table, and was now standing

by it persuasive and eager. Moody had followed with an



inkhorn, carefully left behind by Finney; and Spriggs bore

aloft, as though it were a sword, a well-worn ink-black pen,



which from time to time he endeavoured to thrust into

Skulpit's unwilling hand.



With the learned man were his two abettors in indecision,

William Gazy and Jonathan Crumple. If ever the petition



were to be forwarded, now was the time, so said Mr Finney;

and great was the anxiety on the part of those whose one hundred



pounds a year, as they believed, mainly depended on the

document in question.



'To be kept out of all that money,' as the avaricious Moody

had muttered to his friend Handy, 'by an old fool saying that



he can write his own name like his betters!'

'Well, job,' said Handy, trying to impart to his own sour,



ill-omened visage a smile of approbation, in which he greatly

failed; 'so you're ready now, Mr Finney says; here's the



place, d'ye see'--and he put his huge brown finger down on

the dirty paper-'name or mark, it's all one. Come along,



old boy; if so be we're to have the spending of this money,

why the sooner the better--that's my maxim.'



'To be sure,' said Moody. 'We a'n't none of us so young;

we can't stay waiting for old Catgut no longer.'



It was thus these miscreants named our excellent friend.

The nickname he could easily have forgiven, but the allusion



to the divine source of all his melodious joy would have irritated

even him. Let us hope he never knew the insult.



'Only think, old Billy Gazy,' said Spriggs, who rejoiced in

greater youth than his brethren, but having fallen into a fire



when drunk, had had one eye burnt out, one cheek burnt

through, and one arm nearly burnt off, and who, therefore,



in regard to personal appearance, was not the most prepossessing

of men, 'a hundred a year, and all to spend; only think, old



Billy Gazy'; and he gave a hideous grin that showed off his

misfortunes to their full extent.



Old Billy Gazy was not alive to much enthusiasm. Even

these golden prospects did not arouse him to do more than rub



his poor old bleared eyes with the cuff of his bedesman's gown,

and gentlymutter; 'he didn't know, not he; he didn't know.'



'But you'd know, Jonathan,' continued Spriggs, turning to

the other friend of Skulpit's, who was sitting on a stool by the



table, gazing vacantly at the petition. Jonathan Crumple was

a meek, mild man, who had known better days; his means



had been wasted by bad children, who had made his life

wretched till he had been received into the hospital, of which



he had not long been a member. Since that day he had known

neither sorrow nor trouble, and this attempt to fill him with



new hopes was, indeed, a cruelty.

'A hundred a year's a nice thing, for sartain, neighbour



Spriggs,' said he. 'I once had nigh to that myself, but it

didn't do me no good.' And he gave a low sigh, as he thought



of the children of his own loins who had robbed him.

'And shall have again, Joe,' said Handy; 'and will have



someone to keep it right and tight for you this time.'

Crumple sighed again--he had learned the impotency of



worldly wealth, and would have been satisfied, if left




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