adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第66章
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when you pommelled young Mike Holdsworth for wanting to pass
a bad shilling before you knew whether he was in jest or earnest—
you’re over…hasty and proud； and apt to set your teeth against
folks that don’t square to your notions。 It’s no harm for me to be a
bit fiery and stiff…backed—I’m an old schoolmaster； and shall
never want to get on to a higher perch。 But where’s the use of all
the time I’ve spent in teaching you writing and mapping and
mensuration； if you’re not to get for’ard in the world and show
folks there’s some advantage in having a head on your shoulders；
instead of a turnip？ Do you mean to go on turning up your nose at
every opportunity because it’s got a bit of a smell about it that
nobody finds out but yourself？ It’s as foolish as that notion o’
yours that a wife is to make a working…man comfortable。 Stuff and
nonsense！ Stuff and nonsense！ Leave that to fools that never got
beyond a sum in simple addition。 Simple addition enough！ Add
one fool to another fool； and in six years’ time six fools more—
they’re all of the same denomination； big and little’s nothing to do
with the sum！”
During this rather heated exhortation to coolness and
discretion the pipe had gone out； and Bartle gave the climax to his
speech by striking a light furiously； after which he puffed with
fierce resolution； fixing his eye still on Adam； who was trying not
to laugh。
“There’s a good deal o’ sense in what you say； Mr。 Massey；”
Adam began； as soon as he felt quite serious； “as there always is。
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But you’ll give in that it’s no business o’ mine to be building on
chances that may never happen。 What I’ve got to do is to work as
well as I can with the tools and mater’als I’ve got in my hands。 If a
good chance comes to me； I’ll think o’ what you’ve been saying；
but till then； I’ve got nothing to do but to trust to my own hands
and my own head…piece。 I’m turning over a little plan for Seth and
me to go into the cabinet…making a bit by ourselves； and win a
extra pound or two in that way。 But it’s getting late now—it’ll be
pretty near eleven before I’m at home； and Mother may happen to
lie awake； she’s more fidgety nor usual now。 So I’ll bid you good…
night。”
“Well； well； we’ll go to the gate with you—it’s a fine night；” said
Bartle； taking up his stick。 Vixen was at once on her legs； and
without further words the three walked out into the starlight； by
the side of Bartle’s potato…beds； to the little gate。
“Come to the music o’ Friday night； if you can； my boy；” said
the old man； as he closed the gate after Adam and leaned against
it。
“Aye； aye；” said Adam； striding along towards the streak of pale
road。 He was the only object moving on the wide common。 The
two grey donkeys； just visible in front of the gorse bushes； stood as
still as limestone images—as still as the grey…thatched roof of the
mud cottage a little farther on。 Bartle kept his eye on the moving
figure till it passed into the darkness； while Vixen； in a state of
divided affection； had twice run back to the house to bestow a
parenthetic lick on her puppies。
“Aye； aye；” muttered the schoolmaster； as Adam disappeared；
“there you go； stalking along—stalking along； but you wouldn’t
have been what you are if you hadn’t had a bit of old lame Bartle
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inside you。 The strongest calf must have something to suck at。
There’s plenty of these big； lumbering fellows ’ud never have
known their A B C； if it hadn’t been for Bartle Massey。 Well； well；
Vixen； you foolish wench； what is it； what is it？ I must go in； must
I？ Aye； aye； I’m never to have a will o’ my own any more。 And
those pups—what do you think I’m to do with ’em； when they’re
twice as big as you？ For I’m pretty sure the father was that
hulking bull…terrier of Will Baker’s—wasn’t he now； eh； you sly
hussy？” （Here Vixen tucked her tail between her legs and ran
forward into the house。 Subjects are sometimes broached which a
well…bred female will ignore。）
“But where’s the use of talking to a woman with babbies？”
continued Bartle。 “She’s got no conscience—no conscience； it’s all
run to milk。”
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Book Third
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Chapter XXII
Going to the Birthday Feast
he thirtieth of July was come； and it was one of those half…
dozen warm days which sometimes occur in the middle of
T
a rainy English summer。 No rain had fallen for the last
three or four days； and the weather was perfect for that time of the
year： there was less dust than usual on the dark…green hedge…rows
and on the wild camomile that starred the roadside； yet the grass
was dry enough for the little children to roll on it； and there was
no cloud but a long dash of light； downy ripple； high； high up in
the far…off blue sky。 Perfect weather for an outdoor July merry…
making； yet surely not the best time of year to be born in。 Nature
seems to make a hot pause just then： all the loveliest flowers are
gone； the sweet time of early growth and vague hopes is past； and
yet the time of harvest and ingathering is not come； and we
tremble at the possible storms that may ruin the precious fruit in
the moment of its ripeness。 The woods are all one dark
monotonous green； the waggon…loads of hay no longer creep along
the lanes； scattering their sweet…smelling fragments on the
blackberry branches； the pastures are often a little tanned； yet the
corn has not got its last splendour of red and gold； the lambs and
calves have lost all traces of their innocent frisky prettiness； and
have become stupid young sheep and cows。 But it is a time of
leisure on the farm—that pause between hay and corn…harvest；
and so the farmers and labourers in Hayslope and Broxton
thought the captain did well to come of age just then； when they
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could give their undivided minds to the flavour of the great cask of
ale which had been brewed the autumn after “the heir” was born；
and was to be tapped on his twenty…first birthday。 The air had
been merry with the ringing of church…bells very early this
morning； and every one had made haste to get through the needful
work before twelve； when it would be time to think of getting
ready to go to the Chase。
The midday sun was streaming into Hetty’s bedchamber； and
there was no blind to temper the heat with which it fell on her
head as she looked at herself in the old specked glass。 Still； that
was the only glass she had in which she could see her neck and
arms； for the small hanging glass she had fetched out of the next
room—the room that had been Dinah’s—would show her nothing
below her little chin； and that beautiful bit of neck where the
roundness of her cheek melted into another roundness shadowed
by dark delicate curls。 And to…day she thought more than usual
about her neck and arms； for at the dance this evening she was not
to wear any neckerchief； and she had been busy yesterday with
her spotted pink…and…white frock； that she might make the sleeves
either long or short at will。 She was dressed now just as she was to
be in the evening； with a tucker made of “real” lace； which her
aunt had lent her for this unparalleled occasion； but with no
ornaments besides； she had even taken out her small round ear…
rings which she wore every day。 But there was something more to
be done； apparently； before she put on her neckerchief and long
sleeves； which she was to wear in the day…time； for now she
unlocked the drawer that held her private treasures。 It is more
than a month since we saw her unlock that drawer before； and
now it holds new treasures； so much more precious than the old
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ones that these are thrust into the corner。 Hetty would not care to
put the large coloured glass ear…rings into her ears now； for see！
she has got a beautiful pair of gold and pearls and garnet； lying
snugly in a pretty little box lined with white satin。 Oh； the delight
of taking out that little box and looking at the ear…rings！ Do not
reason about it； my philosophical reader； and say that Hetty； being
very pretty； must have known that it did not signify whether she
had on any ornaments or not； and that； moreover； to look at ear…
rings which she could not possibly wear out of her bedroom could
hardly be a satis
