bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第105章
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respectively employed on three…legged stools： the younger （some
five or six years old）； in learning her letters out of a penny primer：
the elder （eight or nine perhaps）； in teaching her； and sewing with
great assiduity。 Both hail Mr George with acclamations as an old
friend； and after some kissing and romping plant their stools
beside him。
“And how’s young Woolwich？” says Mr George。
“Ah！ There now！” cries Mrs Bagnet； turning about from her
saucepans （for she is cooking dinner）； with a bright flush on her
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face。 Would you believe it？ Got an engagement at the Theayter；
with his father； to play the fife in a military piece。”
“Well done； my godson！” cries Mr George； slapping his thigh。
“I believe you！” says Mrs Bagnet。 “He’s a Briton。 That’s what
Woolwich is。 A Briton。”
“And Mat blows away at his bassoon； and you’re respectable
civilians one and all；” says Mr George。 Family people。 Children
growing up。 Mat’s old mother in Scotland； and your old father
somewhere else； corresponded with； and helped a little； and—well；
well！ To be sure； I don’t know why I shouldn’t be wished a
hundred mile away； for I have not much to do with all this！”
Mr George is becoming thoughtful； sitting before the fire in the
whitewashed room； which has a sanded floor； and a barrack smell；
and contains nothing superfluous； and has not a visible speck of
dirt or dust in it； from the faces of Quebec and Malta to the bright
tin pots and pannikins upon the dresser…shelves；—Mr George is
becoming thoughtful； sitting here while Mrs Bagnet is busy； when
Mr Bagnet and young Woolwich opportunely come home。 Mr
Bagnet is an ex…artillery man； tall and upright； with shaggy
eyebrows； and whiskers like the fibres of a cocoa…nut； not a hair
upon his head； and a torrid complexion。 His voice； short； deep； and
resonant； is not at all unlike the tones of the instrument to which
he is devoted。 Indeed there may be generally observed in him an
unbending； unyielding； brass…bound air； as if he were himself the
bassoon of the human orchestra。 Young Woolwich is the type and
model of a young drummer。
Both father and son salute the trooper heartily。 He saying； in
due season； that he has come to advise with Mr Bagnet； Mr Bagnet
hospitably declares that he will hear of no business until after
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dinner； and that his friend shall not partake of his counsel； without
first partaking of boiled pork and greens。 The trooper yielding to
this invitation； he and Mr Bagnet； not to embarrass the domestic
preparations； go forth to take a turn up and down the little street；
which they promenade with measured tread and folded arms； as if
it were a rampart。
“George；” says Mr Bagnet。 “You know me。 It’s my old girl that
advises。 She has the head。 But I never own to it before her。
Discipline must be maintained。 Wait till the greens is off her mind。
Then； we’ll consult。 Whatever the old girl says； do—do it！”
“I intend to； Mat；” replies the other。 “I would sooner take her
opinion than that of a college。”
“College；” returns Mr Bagnet； in short sentences； bassoon…like。
“What college could you leave—in another quarter of the world—
with nothing but a grey cloak and an umbrella—to make its way
home to Europe？ The old girl would do it tomorrow。 Did it once！”
“You are right；” says Mr George。
“What college；” pursues Bagnet； “could you set up in life—with
two penn’orth of white lime—a penn’orth of fuller’s earth—
ha’porth of sand—and the rest of the change out of sixpence in
money？ That’s what the old girl started on。 In the present
business。”
“I am rejoiced to hear it’s thriving； Mat。”
“The old girl；” says Mr Bagnet； acquiescing； “saves。 Has a
stocking somewhere。 With money in it。 I never saw it。 But I know
she’s got it。 Wait till the greens is off her mind。 Then she’ll set you
up。”
“She is a treasure！” exclaims Mr George。
“She’s more。 But I never own to it before her。 Discipline must
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be maintained。 It was the old girl that brought out my musical
abilities。 I should have been in the artillery now； but for the old
girl。 Six years I hammered at the fiddle。 Ten at the flute。 The old
girl said it wouldn’t do； intention good； but want of flexibility； try
the bassoon。 The old girl borrowed a bassoon from the
bandmaster of the Rifle Regiment。 I practised in the trenches。 Got
on； got another； got a living by it！”
George remarks that she looks as fresh as a rose； and as sound
as an apple。
“The old girl；” says Mr Bagnet in reply； “is a thoroughly fine
woman。 Consequently； she is like a thoroughly fine day。 Gets finer
as she gets on。 I never saw the old girl’s equal。 But I never own to
it before her。 Discipline must be maintained！”
Proceeding to converse on indifferent matters； they walk up
and down the little street； keeping step and time； until summoned
by Quebec and Malta to do justice to the pork and greens； over
which Mrs Bagnet； like a military chaplain； says a short grace。 In
the distribution of these comestibles； as in every other household
duty； Mrs Bagnet develops an exact system； sitting with every dish
before her； allotting to every portion of pork its own portion of pot…
liquor； greens； potatoes； and even mustard； and serving it out
complete。 Having likewise served out the beer from a can； and
thus supplied the mess with all things necessary； Mrs Bagnet
proceeds to satisfy her own hunger； which is in a healthy state。
The kit of the mess； if the table furniture may be so denominated；
is chiefly composed of utensils of horn and tin； that have done duty
in several parts of the world。 Young Woolwich’s knife； in
particular； which is of the oyster kind； with the additional feature
of a strong shutting…up movement which frequently balks the
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appetite of that young musician； is mentioned as having gone in
various hands the complete round of foreign service。
The dinner done； Mrs Bagnet； assisted by the younger branches
（who polish their own cups and platters； knives and forks）； makes
all the dinner garniture shine as brightly as before； and puts it all
away； first sweeping the hearth to the end that Mr Bagnet and the
visitor may not be retarded in the smoking of their pipes。 These
household cares involve much pattening and counter…pattening in
the back yard； and considerable use of a pail； which is finally so
happy as to assist in the ablutions of Mrs Bagnet herself。 That old
girl reappearing by…and…by； quite fresh； and sitting down to her
needlework； then and only then—the greens being only then to be
considered as entirely off her mind—Mr Bagnet requests the
trooper to state his case。
This Mr George does with great discretion； appearing to
address himself to Mr Bagnet； but having an eye solely on the old
girl all the time； as Bagnet has himself。 She； equally discreet；
busies herself with her needlework。 The case fully stated； Mr
Bagnet resorts to his standard artifice for the maintenance of
discipline。
“That’s the whole of it； is it； George？” says he。
“That’s the whole of it。”
“You act according to my opinion？”
“I shall be guided；” replies George； “entirely by it。”
“Old girl；” says Mr Bagnet； “give him my opinion。 You know it。
Tell him what it is。”
It is； that he cannot have too little to do with people who are too
deep for him； and cannot be too careful of interference with
matters he does not understand； that the plain rule is to do
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nothing in the dark； to be a party to nothing under…handed or
mysterious； and never to put his foot where he cannot see the
ground。 This； in effect； is Mr Bagnet’s opinion； as delivered
through the old girl； and it so relieves Mr George’s mind； by
confirming his own opinion and banishing his doubts； that he
composes himself to smoke another pipe on that exceptional
occasion； and to have a talk over old times with the whole Bagnet
family； according to their various ranges of experience。
Through these means it comes to pass that Mr George does not
again rise to his full height in that parlour until the time is
drawing on when the bassoon and fife are expected by a British
public at the theatre； and as it takes time even then for Mr George；
in his domestic character of Bluffy； to take leave to Quebec and
Malta； and insinuate a sponsorial shilling into the pocket of his
godson； with felicitations on his success in life； it is dark when Mr
George again turns his face towards Lincoln’s Inn Fields。
“A family home；” he ruminat
