the uncommercial traveller-第58部分
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a sticky lantern。
The political economy of the master of the turnpike thus expressed
itself。
'How goes turnpike business; master?' said I to him; as he sat in
his little porch; repairing a shoe。
'It don't go at all; master;' said he to me。 'It's stopped。'
'That's bad;' said I。
'Bad?' he repeated。 And he pointed to one of his sunburnt dusty
children who was climbing the turnpike…gate; and said; extending
his open right hand in remonstrance with Universal Nature。 'Five
on 'em!'
'But how to improve Turnpike business?' said I。
'There's a way; master;' said he; with the air of one who had
thought deeply on the subject。
'I should like to know it。'
'Lay a toll on everything as comes through; lay a toll on walkers。
Lay another toll on everything as don't come through; lay a toll on
them as stops at home。'
'Would the last remedy be fair?'
'Fair? Them as stops at home; could come through if they liked;
couldn't they?'
'Say they could。'
'Toll 'em。 If they don't come through; it's THEIR look out。
Anyways; … Toll 'em!'
Finding it was as impossible to argue with this financial genius as
if he had been Chancellor of the Exchequer; and consequently the
right man in the right place; I passed on meekly。
My mind now began to misgive me that the disappointed coach…maker
had sent me on a wild…goose errand; and that there was no post…
chaise in those parts。 But coming within view of certain
allotment…gardens by the roadside; I retracted the suspicion; and
confessed that I had done him an injustice。 For; there I saw;
surely; the poorest superannuated post…chaise left on earth。
It was a post…chaise taken off its axletree and wheels; and plumped
down on the clayey soil among a ragged growth of vegetables。 It
was a post…chaise not even set straight upon the ground; but tilted
over; as if it had fallen out of a balloon。 It was a post…chaise
that had been a long time in those decayed circumstances; and
against which scarlet beans were trained。 It was a post…chaise
patched and mended with old tea…trays; or with scraps of iron that
looked like them; and boarded up as to the windows; but having A
KNOCKER on the off…side door。 Whether it was a post…chaise used as
tool…house; summer…house; or dwelling…house; I could not discover;
for there was nobody at home at the post…chaise when I knocked; but
it was certainly used for something; and locked up。 In the wonder
of this discovery; I walked round and round the post…chaise many
times; and sat down by the post…chaise; waiting for further
elucidation。 None came。 At last; I made my way back to the old
London road by the further end of the allotment…gardens; and
consequently at a point beyond that from which I had diverged。 I
had to scramble through a hedge and down a steep bank; and I nearly
came down a…top of a little spare man who sat breaking stones by
the roadside。
He stayed his hammer; and said; regarding me mysteriously through
his dark goggles of wire:
'Are you aware; sir; that you've been trespassing?'
'I turned out of the way;' said I; in explanation; 'to look at that
odd post…chaise。 Do you happen to know anything about it?'
'I know it was many a year upon the road;' said he。
'So I supposed。 Do you know to whom it belongs?'
The stone…breaker bent his brows and goggles over his heap of
stones; as if he were considering whether he should answer the
question or not。 Then; raising his barred eyes to my features as
before; he said:
'To me。'
Being quite unprepared for the reply; I received it with a
sufficiently awkward 'Indeed! Dear me!' Presently I added; 'Do
you … ' I was going to say 'live there;' but it seemed so absurd a
question; that I substituted 'live near here?'
The stone…breaker; who had not broken a fragment since we began to
converse; then did as follows。 He raised himself by poising his
finger on his hammer; and took his coat; on which he had been
seated; over his arm。 He then backed to an easier part of the bank
than that by which I had come down; keeping his dark goggles
silently upon me all the time; and then shouldered his hammer;
suddenly turned; ascended; and was gone。 His face was so small;
and his goggles were so large; that he left me wholly uninformed as
to his countenance; but he left me a profound impression that the
curved legs I had seen from behind as he vanished; were the legs of
an old postboy。 It was not until then that I noticed he had been
working by a grass…grown milestone; which looked like a tombstone
erected over the grave of the London road。
My dinner…hour being close at hand; I had no leisure to pursue the
goggles or the subject then; but made my way back to the Dolphin's
Head。 In the gateway I found J。 Mellows; looking at nothing; and
apparently experiencing that it failed to raise his spirits。
'I don't care for the town;' said J。 Mellows; when I complimented
him on the sanitary advantages it may or may not possess; 'I wish I
had never seen the town!'
'You don't belong to it; Mr。 Mellows?'
'Belong to it!' repeated Mellows。 'If I didn't belong to a better
style of town than this; I'd take and drown myself in a pail。' It
then occurred to me that Mellows; having so little to do; was
habitually thrown back on his internal resources … by which I mean
the Dolphin's cellar。
'What we want;' said Mellows; pulling off his hat; and making as if
he emptied it of the last load of Disgust that had exuded from his
brain; before he put it on again for another load; 'what we want;
is a Branch。 The Petition for the Branch Bill is in the coffee…
room。 Would you put your name to it? Every little helps。'
I found the document in question stretched out flat on the coffee…
room table by the aid of certain weights from the kitchen; and I
gave it the additional weight of my uncommercial signature。 To the
best of my belief; I bound myself to the modest statement that
universal traffic; happiness; prosperity; and civilisation;
together with unbounded national triumph in competition with the
foreigner; would infallibly flow from the Branch。
Having achieved this constitutional feat; I asked Mr。 Mellows if he
could grace my dinner with a pint of good wine? Mr。 Mellows thus
replied。
'If I couldn't give you a pint of good wine; I'd … there! … I'd
take and drown myself in a pail。 But I was deceived when I bought
this business; and the stock was higgledy…piggledy; and I haven't
yet tasted my way quite through it with a view to sorting it。
Therefore; if you order one kind and get another; change till it
comes right。 For what;' said Mellows; unloading his hat as before;
'what would you or any gentleman do; if you ordered one kind of
wine and was required to drink another? Why; you'd (and naturally
and properly; having the feelings of a gentleman); you'd take and
drown yourself in a pail!'
CHAPTER XXV … THE BOILED BEEF OF NEW ENGLAND
The shabbiness of our English capital; as compared with Paris;
Bordeaux; Frankfort; Milan; Geneva … almost any important town on
the continent of Europe … I find very striking after an absence of
any duration in foreign parts。 London is shabby in contrast with
Edinburgh; with Aberdeen; with Exeter; with Liverpool; with a
bright little town like Bury St。 Edmunds。 London is shabby in
contrast with New York; with Boston; with Philadelphia。 In detail;
one would say it can rarely fail to be a disappointing piece of
shabbiness; to a stranger from any of those places。 There is
nothing shabbier than Drury…lane; in Rome itself。 The meanness of
Regent…street; set against the great line of Boulevards in Paris;
is as striking as the abortive ugliness of Trafalgar…square; set
against the gallant beauty of the Place de la Concorde。 London is
shabby by daylight; and shabbier by gaslight。 No Englishman knows
what gaslight is; until he sees the Rue de Rivoli and the Palais
Royal after dark。
The mass of London people are shabby。 The absence of distinctive
dress has; no doubt; something to do with it。 The porters of the
Vintners' Company; the draymen; and the butchers; are about the
only people who wear distinctive dresses; and even these do not
wear them on holidays。 We have nothing which for cheapness;
cleanliness; convenience; or picturesqueness; can compare with the
belted blouse。 As to our women; … next Easter or Whitsuntide; look
at the bonnets at the British Museum or the National Gallery; and
think of the pretty white French cap; the Spanish mantilla; or the
Genoese mezzero。
Probably there are not more second…hand clothes sold in London than
in Paris; and yet the mass of the London population have a second…
hand look which is not to be detected on the mass of the Parisian
population。 I think this is mainly because a Parisian workman does
not in the least trouble himself about what is worn by a Parisian
idler; but dresses in the way of his own class; and for his own
comfort。 In London; on the contrary; the fashions descend; and you
never fully know how inconvenient or ridiculous a fashion is; until
you see it in its last descent。 It was but the other day; on a
race…course; that I observed four people in a barouche deriving
great entertainment from the contemplation of four people on foot。
The four people on foot were two young men and two young women; the
four people in the barouche were two young men and two young women。
The four young women were dressed in exactly the same style; the
four young men were dressed in exactly the same style。 Yet the two
couples on wheels were as much amused by the two couples on foot;
as if they were quite unconscious of having themselves set those
fashions; or of being at that very moment engaged in the display of
them。
Is it only in the matter of clothes that fashion