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Over the Sliprails-Part10_Henry Lawson(1867-1922)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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August must do it. She insisted on doing her mistress' hair every night.

In short, she tried in every way to show her gratitude.



The teacher and his wife smiled brightly at each other behind her back,

and thought how cheerful the house was since she came,



and wondered what they'd do without her. It was a settled thing

that they should take her back to the city with them, and have



a faithful and grateful retainer all their lives and a sort of Aunt Chloe

for their children, when they had any. The teacher got yards of copy



out of her for his "Maori Sketches and Characters", worked joyously

at his romance, and felt great already, and was happy. She had a bed



made up temporarily (until the teacher could get a spring mattress for her

from town) on the floor in the dining-room, and when she'd made her bed



she'd squat on it in front of the fire and sing Maori songs in a soft voice.

She'd sing the teacher and his wife, in the next room, to sleep.



Then she'd get up and have a feed, but they never heard her.

Her manners at the table (for she was treated "like one of themselves"



in the broadest sense of the term) were surprisingly good,

considering that the adults of her people were decidedly cow-like



in white society, and scoffed sea-eggs, shell-fish, and mutton-birds at home

with a gallop which was not edifying. Her appetite, it was true,



was painful at times to the poetic side of the teacher's nature;

but he supposed that she'd been half-starved at home, poor girl,



and would get over it. Anyway, the copy he'd get out of her

would repay him for this and other expenses a hundredfold.



Moreover, begging and borrowing had ceased with her advent,

and the teacher set this down to her influence.



The first jar came when she was sent on horseback to the town for groceries,

and didn't get back till late the next day. She explained



that some of her relations got hold of her and made her stay,

and wanted her to go into public-houses with them, but she wouldn't.



She said that SHE wanted to come home. But why didn't she? The teacher

let it pass, and hoped she'd gain strength of character by-and-bye.



He had waited up late the night before with her supper on the hob;

and he and his wife had been anxious for fear something had happened



to the poor girl who was under their care. He had walked

to the treacherous river-ford several times during the evening,



and waited there for her. So perhaps he was tired, and that was why

he didn't write next night.



The sugar-bag, the onion-basket, the potato-bag and the tea-chest

began to "go down" alarmingly, and an occasional pound of candles,



a pigeon, a mutton-bird (plucked and ready for Sunday's cooking),

and other little trifles went, also. August couldn't understand it,



and the teacher believed her, for falsehood and deceit are foreign

to the simple natures of the modern Maoris. There were no cats;



but no score of ordinary cats could have given colour to the cat theory,

had it been raised in this case. The breath of August advertised onions



more than once, but no human stomach could have accounted for the quantity.

She surely could not have eaten the other things raw -- and she had



no opportunities for private cooking, as far as the teacher and his wife

could see. The other Maoris were out of the question;



they were all strictly" target="_blank" title="ad.严格地">strictly honest.

Thefts and annoyances of the above description were credited to the "swaggies"



who infested the roads, and had a very bad name down that way;

so the teacher loaded his gun, and told August to rouse him at once,



if she heard a sound in the night. She said she would;

but a heavy-weight "swaggie" could have come in and sat on her and had a smoke



without waking her.

She couldn't be trusted to go a message. She'd take from three to six hours,



and come back with an excuse that sounded genuine from its very simplicity.

Another sister of hers lay ill in an isolated hut, alone and uncared for,



except by the teacher's wife, and occasionally by a poor pa outcast

who had negro blood in her veins, and a love for a white loafer.



God help her! All of which sounds strange, considering that Maoris

are very kind to each other. The mistress" target="_blank" title="n.女教师；女校长">schoolmistress sent August one night



to stay with the sick Maori woman and help her as she could,

and gave her strict instructions to come to the cottage



first thing in the morning, and tell her how the sick woman was.

August turned up at lunch-time next day. The teacher gave her



her first lecture, and said plainly that he wasn't to be taken for a fool;

then he stepped aside to get cool, and, when he returned,



the girl was sobbing as if her heart would break, and the wife comforting her.




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