章节正文
Chimney-pots fell, and tiles flew from the roofs; but it looked
to him as if they were left behind by the roofs and the chimneys
as they scudded away. There was a great roaring, for the wind was
dashing against London like a sea; but at North Wind's back Diamond,
of course, felt nothing of it all. He was in a perfect calm.
He could hear the sound of it, that was all.
By and by he raised himself and looked over the edge of his nest.
There were the houses rushing up and shooting away below him,
like a fiercetorrent of rocks instead of water. Then he
looked up to the sky, but could see no stars; they were hidden
by the blinding masses of the lady's hair which swept between.
He began to wonder whether she would hear him if he spoke.
He would try.
"Please, North Wind," he said, "what is that noise?"
From high over his head came the voice of North Wind,
answering him, gently--
"The noise of my besom. I am the old woman that sweeps the cobwebs
from the, sky; only I'm busy with the floor now."
"What makes the houses look as if they were running away?"
"I am sweeping so fast over them."
"But, please, North Wind, I knew London was very big, but I didn't
know it was so big as this. It seems as if we should never get
away from it."
"We are going round and round, else we should have left it long ago."
"Is this the way you sweep, North Wind?"
"Yes; I go round and round with my great besom."
"Please, would you mind going a little slower, for I want to see
the streets?"
"You won't see much now."
"Why?"
"Because I have nearly swept all the people home."
"Oh! I forgot," said Diamond, and was quiet after that, for he
did not want to be troublesome.
But she dropped a little towards the roofs of the houses,
and Diamond could see down into the streets. There were very few
people about, though. The lamps flickered and flared again,
but nobody seemed to want them.
Suddenly Diamond espied a little girl coming along a street. She was
dreadfully blown by the wind, and a broom she was trailing behind her
was very troublesome. It seemed as if the wind had a spite at her--
it kept worrying her like a wild beast, and tearing at her rags.
She was so lonely there!
"Oh! please, North Wind," he cried, "won't you help that little girl?"
"No, Diamond; I mustn't leave my work."
"But why shouldn't you be kind to her?"
"I am kind to her. I am sweeping the wicked smells away."
"But you're kinder to me, dear North Wind. Why shouldn't you
be as kind to her as you are to me?"
"There are reasons, Diamond. Everybody can't be done to all the same.
Everybody is not ready for the same thing."
"But I don't see why I should be kinder used than she."
"Do you think nothing's to be done but what you can see, Diamond,
you silly! It's all right. Of course you can help her if you like.
You've got nothing particular to do at this moment; I have."
"Oh! do let me help her, then. But you won't be able to wait, perhaps?"
"No, I can't wait; you must do it yourself. And, mind, the wind
will get a hold of you, too."
"Don't you want me to help her, North Wind?"
"Not without having some idea what will happen. If you break
down and cry, that won't be much of a help to her, and it will
make a goose of little Diamond."
"I want to go," said Diamond. "Only there's just one thing--
how am I to get home?"
"If you're anxious about that, perhaps you had better go with me.
I am bound to take you home again, if you do."
"There!" cried Diamond, who was still looking after the little girl.
"I'm sure the wind will blow her over, and perhaps kill her.
Do let me go."
They had been sweeping more slowly along the line of the street.
There was a lull in the roaring.
"Well, though I cannot promise to take you home," said North Wind,
as she sank nearer and nearer to the tops of the houses, "I can promise
you it will be all right in the end. You will get home somehow.
Have you made up your mind what to do?"
"Yes; to help the little girl," said Diamond firmly.
The same moment North Wind dropt into the street and stood,
only a tall lady, but with her hair flying up over the housetops.
She put her hands to her back, took Diamond, and set him down in
the street. The same moment he was caught in the fierce coils of
the blast, and all but blown away. North Wind stepped back a step,
and at once towered in stature to the height of the houses.
A chimney-pot clashed at Diamond's feet. He turned in terror,
but it was to look for the little girl, and when he turned again
the lady had vanished, and the wind was roaring along the street
as if it had been the bed of an invisibletorrent. The little girl
was scudding before the blast, her hair flying too, and behind her
she dragged her broom. Her little legs were going as fast as ever
they could to keep her from falling. Diamond crept into the shelter
of a doorway, thinking to stop her; but she passed him like a bird,
crying gently and pitifully.
"Stop! stop! little girl," shouted Diamond, starting in pursuit.
"I can't," wailed the girl, "the wind won't leave go of me."
Diamond could run faster than she, and he had no broom. In a few
moments he had caught her by the frock, but it tore in his hand,
and away went the little girl. So he had to run again, and this
time he ran so fast that he got before her, and turning round caught
her in his arms, when down they went both together, which made
the little girl laugh in the midst of her crying.
"Where are you going?" asked Diamond, rubbing the elbow that had
stuck farthest out. The arm it belonged to was twined round
a lamp-post as he stood between the little girl and the wind.
"Home," she said, gasping for breath.
"Then I will go with you," said Diamond.
And then they were silent for a while, for the wind blew worse
than ever, and they had both to hold on to the lamp-post.
"Where is your crossing?" asked the girl at length.
"I don't sweep," answered Diamond.
"What do you do, then?" asked she. "You ain't big enough
for most things."
"I don't know what I do do," answered he, feeling rather ashamed.
"Nothing, I suppose. My father's Mr. Coleman's coachman."
"Have you a father?" she said, staring at him as if a boy with
a father was a natural curiosity.
"Yes. Haven't you?" returned Diamond.
"No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got." And she began
to cry again.
"I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me," said Diamond.
"But you must go somewheres."
"Move on," said the voice of a policeman behind them.
"I told you so," said the girl. "You must go somewheres.
They're always at it."
"But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?"
"I wish she would."
"What do you mean?" asked Diamond, quite bewildered.
"She would if she was my mother. But she wouldn't lie abed a-cuddlin'
of her ugly old bones, and laugh to hear me crying at the door."
"You don't mean she won't let you in to-night?"
"It'll be a good chance if she does."
"Why are you out so late, then?" asked Diamond.
"My crossing's a long way off at the West End, and I had been indulgin'
in door-steps and mewses."
"We'd better have a try anyhow," said Diamond. "Come along."
As he spoke Diamond thought he caught a glimpse of North Wind turning
a corner in front of them; and when they turned the corner too,
they found it quiet there, but he saw nothing of the lady.
"Now you lead me," he said, taking her hand, "and I'll take care
of you."
The girl withdrew her hand, but only to dry her eyes with her frock,
for the other had enough to do with her broom. She put it in
his again, and led him, turning after turning, until they stopped
at a cellar-door in a very dirty lane. There she knocked.
"I shouldn't like to live here," said Diamond.
"Oh, yes, you would, if you had nowhere else to go to,"
answered the girl. "I only wish we may get in."
"I don't want to go in," said Diamond.
"Where do you mean to go, then?"
"Home to my home."
"Where's that?"
"I don't exactly know."
"Then you're worse off than I am."
"Oh no, for North Wind--" began Diamond, and stopped, he hardly
knew why.
"What?" said the girl, as she held her ear to the door listening.
But Diamond did not reply. Neither did old Sal.
"I told you so," said the girl. "She is wide awake hearkening.
But we don't get in."
"What will you do, then?" asked Diamond.
"Move on," she answered.
"Where?"
"Oh, anywheres. Bless you, I'm used to it."
"Hadn't you better come home with me, then?"
"That's a good joke, when you don't know where it is. Come on."
"But where?"
"Oh, nowheres in particular. Come on."
Diamond obeyed. The wind had now fallen considerably. They wandered
on and on, turning in this direction and that, without any reason
for one way more than another, until they had got out of the thick
of the houses into a waste kind of place. By this time they were both
very tired. Diamond felt a good deal inclined to cry, and thought
he had been very silly to get down from the back of North Wind;
not that he would have minded it if he had done the girl any good;
but he thought he had been of no use to her. He was mistaken there,
for she was far happier for having Diamond with her than if she had
been wandering about alone. She did not seem so tired as he was.
"Do let us rest a bit," said Diamond.
"Let's see," she answered. "There's something like a railway there.
Perhaps there's an open arch."
They went towards it and found one, and, better still, there was
an empty barrel lying under the arch.
"Hallo! here we are!" said the girl. "A barrel's the jolliest
bed going--on the tramp, I mean. We'll have forty winks, and then
go on again."
She crept in, and Diamond crept in beside her. They put their arms
round each other, and when he began to grow warm, Diamond's courage
began to come back.
"This is jolly!" he said. "I'm so glad!"
"I don't think so much of it," said the girl. "I'm used to it,
I suppose. But I can't think how a kid like you comes to be out
all alone this time o' night."
She called him a kid, but she was not really a month older than he was;
only she had had to work for her bread, and that so soon makes
people older.
"But I shouldn't have been out so late if I hadn't got down
to help you," said Diamond. "North Wind is gone home long ago."
"I think you must ha' got out o' one o' them Hidget Asylms,"
said the girl. "You said something about the north wind afore
that I couldn't get the rights of."
So now, for the sake of his character, Diamond had to tell her
the whole story.
She did not believe a word of it. She said he wasn't such a flat
as to believe all that bosh. But as she spoke there came a great
to him as if they were left behind by the roofs and the chimneys
as they scudded away. There was a great roaring, for the wind was
dashing against London like a sea; but at North Wind's back Diamond,
of course, felt nothing of it all. He was in a perfect calm.
He could hear the sound of it, that was all.
By and by he raised himself and looked over the edge of his nest.
There were the houses rushing up and shooting away below him,
like a fiercetorrent of rocks instead of water. Then he
looked up to the sky, but could see no stars; they were hidden
by the blinding masses of the lady's hair which swept between.
He began to wonder whether she would hear him if he spoke.
He would try.
"Please, North Wind," he said, "what is that noise?"
From high over his head came the voice of North Wind,
answering him, gently--
"The noise of my besom. I am the old woman that sweeps the cobwebs
from the, sky; only I'm busy with the floor now."
"What makes the houses look as if they were running away?"
"I am sweeping so fast over them."
"But, please, North Wind, I knew London was very big, but I didn't
know it was so big as this. It seems as if we should never get
away from it."
"We are going round and round, else we should have left it long ago."
"Is this the way you sweep, North Wind?"
"Yes; I go round and round with my great besom."
"Please, would you mind going a little slower, for I want to see
the streets?"
"You won't see much now."
"Why?"
"Because I have nearly swept all the people home."
"Oh! I forgot," said Diamond, and was quiet after that, for he
did not want to be troublesome.
But she dropped a little towards the roofs of the houses,
and Diamond could see down into the streets. There were very few
people about, though. The lamps flickered and flared again,
but nobody seemed to want them.
Suddenly Diamond espied a little girl coming along a street. She was
dreadfully blown by the wind, and a broom she was trailing behind her
was very troublesome. It seemed as if the wind had a spite at her--
it kept worrying her like a wild beast, and tearing at her rags.
She was so lonely there!
"Oh! please, North Wind," he cried, "won't you help that little girl?"
"No, Diamond; I mustn't leave my work."
"But why shouldn't you be kind to her?"
"I am kind to her. I am sweeping the wicked smells away."
"But you're kinder to me, dear North Wind. Why shouldn't you
be as kind to her as you are to me?"
"There are reasons, Diamond. Everybody can't be done to all the same.
Everybody is not ready for the same thing."
"But I don't see why I should be kinder used than she."
"Do you think nothing's to be done but what you can see, Diamond,
you silly! It's all right. Of course you can help her if you like.
You've got nothing particular to do at this moment; I have."
"Oh! do let me help her, then. But you won't be able to wait, perhaps?"
"No, I can't wait; you must do it yourself. And, mind, the wind
will get a hold of you, too."
"Don't you want me to help her, North Wind?"
"Not without having some idea what will happen. If you break
down and cry, that won't be much of a help to her, and it will
make a goose of little Diamond."
"I want to go," said Diamond. "Only there's just one thing--
how am I to get home?"
"If you're anxious about that, perhaps you had better go with me.
I am bound to take you home again, if you do."
"There!" cried Diamond, who was still looking after the little girl.
"I'm sure the wind will blow her over, and perhaps kill her.
Do let me go."
They had been sweeping more slowly along the line of the street.
There was a lull in the roaring.
"Well, though I cannot promise to take you home," said North Wind,
as she sank nearer and nearer to the tops of the houses, "I can promise
you it will be all right in the end. You will get home somehow.
Have you made up your mind what to do?"
"Yes; to help the little girl," said Diamond firmly.
The same moment North Wind dropt into the street and stood,
only a tall lady, but with her hair flying up over the housetops.
She put her hands to her back, took Diamond, and set him down in
the street. The same moment he was caught in the fierce coils of
the blast, and all but blown away. North Wind stepped back a step,
and at once towered in stature to the height of the houses.
A chimney-pot clashed at Diamond's feet. He turned in terror,
but it was to look for the little girl, and when he turned again
the lady had vanished, and the wind was roaring along the street
as if it had been the bed of an invisibletorrent. The little girl
was scudding before the blast, her hair flying too, and behind her
she dragged her broom. Her little legs were going as fast as ever
they could to keep her from falling. Diamond crept into the shelter
of a doorway, thinking to stop her; but she passed him like a bird,
crying gently and pitifully.
"Stop! stop! little girl," shouted Diamond, starting in pursuit.
"I can't," wailed the girl, "the wind won't leave go of me."
Diamond could run faster than she, and he had no broom. In a few
moments he had caught her by the frock, but it tore in his hand,
and away went the little girl. So he had to run again, and this
time he ran so fast that he got before her, and turning round caught
her in his arms, when down they went both together, which made
the little girl laugh in the midst of her crying.
"Where are you going?" asked Diamond, rubbing the elbow that had
stuck farthest out. The arm it belonged to was twined round
a lamp-post as he stood between the little girl and the wind.
"Home," she said, gasping for breath.
"Then I will go with you," said Diamond.
And then they were silent for a while, for the wind blew worse
than ever, and they had both to hold on to the lamp-post.
"Where is your crossing?" asked the girl at length.
"I don't sweep," answered Diamond.
"What do you do, then?" asked she. "You ain't big enough
for most things."
"I don't know what I do do," answered he, feeling rather ashamed.
"Nothing, I suppose. My father's Mr. Coleman's coachman."
"Have you a father?" she said, staring at him as if a boy with
a father was a natural curiosity.
"Yes. Haven't you?" returned Diamond.
"No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got." And she began
to cry again.
"I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me," said Diamond.
"But you must go somewheres."
"Move on," said the voice of a policeman behind them.
"I told you so," said the girl. "You must go somewheres.
They're always at it."
"But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?"
"I wish she would."
"What do you mean?" asked Diamond, quite bewildered.
"She would if she was my mother. But she wouldn't lie abed a-cuddlin'
of her ugly old bones, and laugh to hear me crying at the door."
"You don't mean she won't let you in to-night?"
"It'll be a good chance if she does."
"Why are you out so late, then?" asked Diamond.
"My crossing's a long way off at the West End, and I had been indulgin'
in door-steps and mewses."
"We'd better have a try anyhow," said Diamond. "Come along."
As he spoke Diamond thought he caught a glimpse of North Wind turning
a corner in front of them; and when they turned the corner too,
they found it quiet there, but he saw nothing of the lady.
"Now you lead me," he said, taking her hand, "and I'll take care
of you."
The girl withdrew her hand, but only to dry her eyes with her frock,
for the other had enough to do with her broom. She put it in
his again, and led him, turning after turning, until they stopped
at a cellar-door in a very dirty lane. There she knocked.
"I shouldn't like to live here," said Diamond.
"Oh, yes, you would, if you had nowhere else to go to,"
answered the girl. "I only wish we may get in."
"I don't want to go in," said Diamond.
"Where do you mean to go, then?"
"Home to my home."
"Where's that?"
"I don't exactly know."
"Then you're worse off than I am."
"Oh no, for North Wind--" began Diamond, and stopped, he hardly
knew why.
"What?" said the girl, as she held her ear to the door listening.
But Diamond did not reply. Neither did old Sal.
"I told you so," said the girl. "She is wide awake hearkening.
But we don't get in."
"What will you do, then?" asked Diamond.
"Move on," she answered.
"Where?"
"Oh, anywheres. Bless you, I'm used to it."
"Hadn't you better come home with me, then?"
"That's a good joke, when you don't know where it is. Come on."
"But where?"
"Oh, nowheres in particular. Come on."
Diamond obeyed. The wind had now fallen considerably. They wandered
on and on, turning in this direction and that, without any reason
for one way more than another, until they had got out of the thick
of the houses into a waste kind of place. By this time they were both
very tired. Diamond felt a good deal inclined to cry, and thought
he had been very silly to get down from the back of North Wind;
not that he would have minded it if he had done the girl any good;
but he thought he had been of no use to her. He was mistaken there,
for she was far happier for having Diamond with her than if she had
been wandering about alone. She did not seem so tired as he was.
"Do let us rest a bit," said Diamond.
"Let's see," she answered. "There's something like a railway there.
Perhaps there's an open arch."
They went towards it and found one, and, better still, there was
an empty barrel lying under the arch.
"Hallo! here we are!" said the girl. "A barrel's the jolliest
bed going--on the tramp, I mean. We'll have forty winks, and then
go on again."
She crept in, and Diamond crept in beside her. They put their arms
round each other, and when he began to grow warm, Diamond's courage
began to come back.
"This is jolly!" he said. "I'm so glad!"
"I don't think so much of it," said the girl. "I'm used to it,
I suppose. But I can't think how a kid like you comes to be out
all alone this time o' night."
She called him a kid, but she was not really a month older than he was;
only she had had to work for her bread, and that so soon makes
people older.
"But I shouldn't have been out so late if I hadn't got down
to help you," said Diamond. "North Wind is gone home long ago."
"I think you must ha' got out o' one o' them Hidget Asylms,"
said the girl. "You said something about the north wind afore
that I couldn't get the rights of."
So now, for the sake of his character, Diamond had to tell her
the whole story.
She did not believe a word of it. She said he wasn't such a flat
as to believe all that bosh. But as she spoke there came a great
- fierce [fiəs]
a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词) - running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- height [hait] n.高度；顶点；卓越 (初中英语单词)
- invisible [in´vizəbəl] a.看不见的；无形的 (初中英语单词)
- doorway [´dɔ:wei] n.门口 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- policeman [pə´li:smən] n.警察 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- barrel [´bærəl] n.(琵琶)桶；圆筒 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- torrent [´tɔrənt] n.奔流，激流，洪流；迸发 (高中英语单词)
- sweeping [´swi:piŋ] a.掠过的 n.扫除；清除 (高中英语单词)
- withdrew [wið´dru:] withdraw的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- nowhere [´nəuweə] n.无处；不知道 (高中英语单词)
- considerably [kən´sidərəbli] ad.显著地；十分 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- stature [´stætʃə] n.身高；身材 (英语四级单词)
- farthest [´fɑ:ðist] ad.&a.最远(的) (英语四级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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