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Penelope's Experiences in Scotland-Part1_Kate Douglas Wiggin(1856-1923)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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In the matter of breakfasts, when we have leisure to assert our

individual tastes, Salemina prefers tea, Francesca cocoa, and I,



coffee. We can never, therefore, be served with a large comfortable

pot of anything, but are confronted instead with a caravan of silver



jugs, china jugs, bowls of hard and soft sugar, hot milk, cold milk,

hot water, and cream, while each in her secret heart wishes that the



other two were less exigeante in the matter of diet and beverages.

This does not sound promising, but it works perfectly well in



practice by the exercise of a little flexibility.

As we left dear old Dovermarle Street and Smith's Private Hotel



behind, and drove to the station to take the Flying Scotsman, we

indulged in floods of reminiscence over the joys of travel we had



tasted together in the past, and talked with livelyanticipation of

the new experiences awaiting us in the land of heather.



While Salemina went to purchase the three first-class tickets, I

superintended the porters as they disposed our luggage in the van,



and in so doing my eye lighted upon a third-class carriage which

was, for a wonder, clean, comfortable, and vacant. Comparing it



hastily with the first-classcompartment being held by Francesca, I

found that it differed only in having no carpet on the floor, and a



smaller number of buttons in the upholstering. This was really

heartrending when the difference in fare for three persons would be



at least twenty dollars. What a delightful sum to put aside for a

rainy day!--that is, be it understood, what a delightful sum to put



aside and spend on the first rainy day! for that is the way we

always interpret the expression.



When Salemina returned with the tickets, she found me, as usual,

bewailing our extravagance.



Francesca descended suddenly from her post, and, wresting the

tickets from her duenna, exclaimed, "'I know that I can save the



country, and I know no other man can!' as William Pitt said to the

Duke of Devonshire. I have had enough of this argument. For six



months of last year we discussed travelling third class and

continued to travel first. Get into that clean hard-seated, ill-



upholstered third-class carriage immediately, both of you; save room

enough for a mother with two babies, and man carrying a basket of



fish, and an old woman with five pieces of hand-luggage and a dog;

meanwhile I will exchange the tickets."



So saying, she disappeared rapidly among the throng of passengers,

guards, porters, newspaper boys, golfers with bags of clubs, young



ladies with bicycles, and old ladies with tin hat-boxes.

"What decision, what swiftness of judgment, what courage and



energy!" murmured Salemina. "Isn't she wonderfully improved since

that unexpected turning of the Worm?"



Francesca rejoined us just as the guard was about to lock us in, and

flung herself down, quite breathless from her unusual exertion.



"Well, we are travelling third for once, and the money is saved, or

at least it is ready to spend again at the first opportunity. The



man didn't wish to exchange the tickets at all. He says it is never

done. I told him they were bought by a very inexperienced American



lady (that is you, Salemina) who knew almost nothing of the

distinctions between first and third class, and naturally took the



best, believing it to be none too good for a citizen of the greatest

republic on the face of the earth. He said the tickets had been



stamped on. I said so should I be if I returned without exchanging

them. He was a very dense person, and didn't see my joke at all,



but then, it is true, there were thirteen men in line behind me,

with the train starting in three minutes, and there is nothing so



debilitating to a naturally weak sense of humour as selling tickets

behind a grating, so I am not really vexed with him. There! we are



quite comfortable, pending the arrival of the babies, the dog, and

the fish, and certainly no vendor of periodic literature will dare



approach us while we keep these books in evidence."

She had Laurence Hutton's Literary Landmarks and Royal Edinburgh, by



Mrs. Oliphant; I had Lord Cockburn's Memorials of his Time; and

somebody had given Salemina, at the moment of leaving London, a work



on `Scotias's darling seat,' in three huge volumes. When all this

printed matter was heaped on the top of Salemina's hold-all on the



platform, the guard had asked, "Do you belong to these books,

ma'am?"



"We may consider ourselves injured in going from London to Edinburgh

in a third-class carriage in eight or ten hours, but listen to






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