酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

Lin McLean-Part5_Owen Wister(1860-1938)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
firewood.



"Look at those sorrowful toothpicks," said he: "Tommy's work."

So Lin, the excellent hearted, had angrily busied himself, and chopped a



pile of real logs that would last a week. He had also cleaned the stove,

and nailed up the bed, the pillow-end of which was on the floor. It



appeared the master of the house had been sleeping in it the reverse way

on account of the slant. Thus had Lin cooked and dined alone, supped



alone, and sat over some old newspapers until bed-time alone with his

sense of virtue. And now here it was long after breakfast, and no Tommy



yet.

"It's good yu' come this forenoon," Lin said to me. "I'd not have had the



heart to get up another dinner just for myself. Let's eat rich!"

Accordingly, we had richly eaten, Lin and I. He had gone out among the



sheds and caught some eggs (that is how he spoke of it), we had opened a

number of things in cans, and I had made my famous dish of evaporated



apricots, in which I managed to fling a suspicion of caramel throughout

the stew.



"Tommy'll be hot about these," said Lin, joyfully, as we ate the eggs.

"He don't mind what yu' use of his canned goods--pickled salmon and



truck. He is hospitable all right enough till it comes to an egg. Then

he'll tell any lie. But shucks! Yu' can read Tommy right through his



clothing. 'Make yourself at home, Lin,' says he, yesterday. And he showed

me his fresh milk and his stuff. 'Here's a new ham,' says he; 'too bad my



damned hens ain't been layin'. The sons-o'guns have quit on me ever since

Christmas.' And away he goes to Powder River for the mail. 'You swore too



heavy about them hens,' thinks I. Well, I expect he may have travelled

half a mile by the time I'd found four nests."



I am fond of eggs, and eat them constantly--and in Wyoming they were

always a luxury. But I never forget those that day, and how Lin and I



enjoyed them thinking of Tommy. Perhaps manhood was not quite established

in my own soul at that time--and perhaps that is the reason why it is the



only time I have ever known which I would live over again, those years

when people said, "You are old enough to know better"--and one didn't



care!

Salmon, apricots, eggs, we dealt with them all properly, and I had some



cigars. It was now that the news came back into my head.

"What do you think of--" I began, and stopped.



I spoke out of a long silence, the slack, luxurious silence of digestion.

I got no answer, naturally, from the torpid Lin, and then it occurred to



me that he would have asked me what I thought, long before this, had he

known. So, observing how comfortable he was, I began differently.



"What is the most important event that can happen in this country?" said

I.



Mr. McLean heard me where he lay along the floor of the cabin on his

back, dozing by the fire; but his eyes remained closed. He waggled one



limp, open hand slightly at me, and torpor resumed her dominion over him.

"I want to know what you consider the most important event that can



happen in this country," said I, again, enunciating each word with slow

clearness.



The throat and lips of Mr. McLean moved, and a sulky sound came forth

that I recognized to be meant for the word "War." Then he rolled over so



that his face was away from me, and put an arm over his eyes.

"I don't mean country in the sense of United States," said I. "I mean



this country here, and Bear Creek, and--well, the ranches southward for

fifty miles, say. Important to this section."



"Mosquitoes'll be due in about three weeks," said Lin. "Yu' might leave a

man rest till then."



"I want your opinion," said I.

"Oh, misery! Well, a raise in the price of steers."



"No."

"Yu' said yu' wanted my opinion," said Lin. "Seems like yu' merely figure



on givin' me yours."

"Very well," said I. "Very well, then."



I took up a copy of the Cheyenne Sun. It was five weeks old, and I soon

perceived that I had read it three weeks ago; but I read it again for



some minutes now.

"I expect a railroad would be more important," said Mr. McLean,



persuasively, from the floor.

"Than a rise in steers?" said I, occupied with the Cheyenne Sun. "Oh yes.



Yes, a railroad certainly would."

"It's got to be money, anyhow," stated Lin, thoroughly wakened. "Money in



some shape."

"How little you understand the real wants of the country!" said I, coming



to the point. "It's a girl."

Mr. McLean lay quite still on the floor.



"A girl," I repeated. "A new girl coming to this starved country."

The cow-puncher took a long, gradual stretch and began to smile. "Well,"






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号