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

The Silverado Squatters-Part15_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_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
Crickets were not wanting. I thought I could make out

exactly four of them, each with a corner of his own, who used



to make night musical at Silverado. In the matter of voice,

they far excelled the birds, and their ringing whistle



sounded from rock to rock, calling and replying the same

thing, as in a meaningless opera. Thus, children in full



health and spirits shout together, to the dismay of

neighbours; and their idle, happy, deafening vociferations



rise and fall, like the song of the crickets. I used to sit

at night on the platform, and wonder why these creatures were



so happy; and what was wrong with man that he also did not

wind up his days with an hour or two of shouting; but I



suspect that all long-lived animals are solemn. The dogs

alone are hardly used by nature; and it seems a manifest



injustice for poor Chuchu to die in his teens, after a life

so shadowed and troubled, continuallyshaken with alarm, and



the tear of elegantsentimentpermanently in his eye.

There was another neighbour of ours at Silverado, small but



very active, a destructive fellow. This was a black, ugly

fly - a bore, the Hansons called him - who lived by hundreds



in the boarding of our house. He entered by a round hole,

more neatly pierced than a man could do it with a gimlet, and



he seems to have spent his life in cutting out the interior

of the plank, but whether as a dwelling or a store-house, I



could never find. When I used to lie in bed in the morning

for a rest - we had no easy-chairs in Silverado - I would



hear, hour after hour, the sharp cutting sound of his

labours, and from time to time a daintyshower of sawdust



would fall upon the blankets. There lives no more

industrious creature than a bore.



And now that I have named to the reader all our animals and

insects without exception - only I find I have forgotten the



flies - he will be able to appreciate the singular privacy

and silence of our days. It was not only man who was



excluded: animals, the song of birds, the lowing of cattle,

the bleating of sheep, clouds even, and the variations of the



weather, were here also wanting; and as, day after day, the

sky was one dome of blue, and the pines below us stood



motionless in the still air, so the hours themselves were

marked out from each other only by the series of our own



affairs, and the sun's great period as he ranged westward

through the heavens. The two birds cackled a while in the



early morning; all day the water tinkled in the shaft, the

bores ground sawdust in the planking of our crazy palace -



infinitesimal sounds; and it was only with the return of

night that any change would fall on our surroundings, or the



four crickets begin to flute together in the dark.

Indeed, it would be hard to exaggerate the pleasure that we



took in the approach of evening. Our day was not very long,

but it was very tiring. To trip along unsteady planks or



wade among shifting stones, to go to and fro for water, to

clamber down the glen to the Toll House after meat and



letters, to cook, to make fires and beds, were all exhausting

to the body. Life out of doors, besides, under the fierce



eye of day, draws largely on the animal spirits. There are

certain hours in the afternoon when a man, unless he is in



strong health or enjoys a vacant mind, would rather creep

into a cool corner of a house and sit upon the chairs of



civilization. About that time, the sharp stones, the planks,

the upturned boxes of Silverado, began to grow irksome to my



body; I set out on that hopeless, never-ending quest for a

more comfortable posture; I would be fevered and weary of the



staring sun; and just then he would begin courteously to

withdraw his countenance, the shadows lengthened, the



aromatic airs awoke, and an indescribable but happy change

announced the coming of the night.



The hours of evening, when we were once curtained in the

friendly dark, sped lightly. Even as with the crickets,






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