the story of an african farm-第15章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



childhis　first…born。　　Here　was　one　who　liked　the　thing　that　had　been

created　in　him。　　He　forgot　everything。　　He　showed　how　the　shears　would　work

with　a　little　guidance；　how　the　sheep　would　be　held；　and　the　wool　fall　into

the　trough。　　A　flush　burst　over　his　face　as　he　spoke。



〃I　tell　you　what；　my　lad；〃　said　Bonaparte　emphatically；　when　the

explanation　was　finished；　〃we　must　get　you　a　patent。　　Your　fortune　is　made。

In　three　years'　time　there'll　not　be　a　farm　in　this　colony　where　it　isn't

working。　　You're　a　genius；　that's　what　you　are！〃　said　Bonaparte；　rising。



〃If　it　were　made　larger；〃　said　the　boy；　raising　his　eyes；　〃it　would　work

more　smoothly。　　Do　you　think　there　would　be　any　one　in　this　colony　would　be

able　to　make　it？〃



〃I'm　sure　they　could；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃and　if　not；　why　I'll　do　my　best　for

you。　　I'll　send　it　to　England。　　It　must　be　done　somehow。　　How　long　have　you

worked　at　it？〃



〃Nine　months；〃　said　the　boy。



〃Oh；　it　is　such　a　nice　little　machine；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃one　can't　help

feeling　an　interest　in　it。　　There　is　only　one　little　improvement；　one　very

little　improvement；　I　should　like　to　make。〃



Bonaparte　put　his　foot　on　the　machine　and　crushed　it　into　the　sand。　　The

boy　looked　up　into　his　face。



〃Looks　better　now；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃doesn't　it？　　If　we　can't　have　it　made

in　England　we'll　send　it　to　America。　　Good…bye；　ta…ta；〃　he　added。　　〃You're

a　great　genius；　a　born　genius；　my　dear　boy；　there's　no　doubt　about　it。〃



He　mounted　the　grey　mare　and　rode　off。　　The　dog　watched　his　retreat　with

cynical　satisfaction；　but　his　master　lay　on　the　ground　with　his　head　on　his

arms　in　the　sand；　and　the　little　wheels　and　chips　of　wood　lay　on　the　ground

around　him。　　The　dog　jumped　on　to　his　back　and　snapped　at　the　black　curls；

till；　finding　that　no　notice　was　taken；　he　walked　off　to　play　with　a　black

beetle。　　The　beetle　was　hard　at　work　trying　to　roll　home　a　great　ball　of

dung　it　had　been　collecting　all　the　morning：　　but　Doss　broke　the　ball；　and

ate　the　beetle's　hind　legs；　and　then　bit　off　its　head。　　And　it　was　all

play；　and　no　one　could　tell　what　it　had　lived　and　worked　for。　　A　striving；

and　a　striving；　and　an　ending　in　nothing。





Chapter　1。XI。　　He　Snaps。



〃I　have　found　something　in　the　loft；〃　said　Em　to　Waldo；　who　was　listlessly

piling　cakes　of　fuel　on　the　kraal　wall；　a　week　after。　　〃It　is　a　box　of

books　that　belonged　to　my　father。　　We　thought　Tant　Sannie　had　burnt　them。〃



The　boy　put　down　the　cake　he　was　raising　and　looked　at　her。



〃I　don't　think　they　are　very　nice；　not　stories；〃　she　added；　〃but　you　can　go

and　take　any　you　like。〃



So　saying；　she　took　up　the　plate　in　which　she　had　brought　his　breakfast；

and　walked　off　to　the　house。



After　that　the　boy　worked　quickly。　　The　pile　of　fuel　Bonaparte　had　ordered

him　to　pack　was　on　the　wall　in　half　an　hour。　　He　then　went　to　throw　salt　on

the　skins　laid　out　to　dry。　　Finding　the　pot　empty；　he　went　to　the　loft　to

refill　it。



Bonaparte　Blenkins；　whose　door　opened　at　the　foot　of　the　ladder；　saw　the

boy　go　up；　and　stood　in　the　doorway　waiting　for　his　return。　　He　wanted　his

boots　blacked。　　Doss；　finding　he　could　not　follow　his　master　up　the　round

bars；　sat　patiently　at　the　foot　of　the　ladder。　　Presently　he　looked　up

longingly；　but　no　one　appeared。　　Then　Bonaparte　looked　up　also；　and　began

to　call；　but　there　was　no　answer。　　What　could　the　boy　be　doing？　　The　loft

was　an　unknown　land　to　Bonaparte。　　He　had　often　wondered　what　was　up　there；

he　liked　to　know　what　was　in　all　locked…up　places　and　out…of…the…way

corners；　but　he　was　afraid　to　climb　the　ladder。　　So　Bonaparte　looked　up；

and　in　the　name　of　all　that　was　tantalizing；　questioned　what　the　boy　did　up

there。　　The　loft　was　used　only　as　a　lumber…room。　　What　could　the　fellow

find　up　there　to　keep　him　so　long？



Could　the　Boer…woman　have　beheld　Waldo　at　that　instant；　any　lingering　doubt

which　might　have　remained　in　her　mind　as　to　the　boy's　insanity　would

instantly　have　vanished。　　For；　having　filled　the　salt…pot；　he　proceeded　to

look　for　the　box　of　books　among　the　rubbish　that　filled　the　loft。　　Under　a

pile　of　sacks　he　found　ita　rough　packing…case；　nailed　up；　but　with　one

loose　plank。　　He　lifted　that；　and　saw　the　even　backs　of　a　row　of　books。　　He

knelt　down　before　the　box；　and　ran　his　hand　along　its　rough　edges；　as　if　to

assure　himself　of　its　existence。　　He　stuck　his　hand　in　among　the　books；　and

pulled　out　two。　　He　felt　them；　thrust　his　fingers　in　among　the　leaves；　and

crumpled　them　a　little；　as　a　lover　feels　the　hair　of　his　mistress。　　The

fellow　gloated　over　his　treasure。　　He　had　had　a　dozen　books　in　the　course

of　his　life；　now　here　was　a　mine　of　them　opened　at　his　feet。　　After　a　while

he　began　to　read　the　titles；　and　now　and　again　opened　a　book　and　read　a

sentence；　but　he　was　too　excited　to　catch　the　meanings　distinctly。　　At　last

he　came　to　a　dull；　brown　volume。　　He　read　the　name；　opened　it　in　the

centre；　and　where　he　opened　began　to　read。　　It　was　a　chapter　on　property

that　he　fell　uponCommunism；　Fourierism；　St。　Simonism；　in　a　work　on

Political　Economy。　　He　read　down　one　page　and　turned　over　to　the　next；　he

read　down　that　without　changing　his　posture　by　an　inch；　he　read　the　next；

and　the　next；　kneeling　up　all　the　while　with　the　book　in　his　hand；　and　his

lips　parted。



All　he　read　he　did　not　fully　understand；　the　thoughts　were　new　to　him；　but

this　was　the　fellow's　startled　joy　in　the　bookthe　thoughts　were　his；　they

belonged　to　him。　　He　had　never　thought　them　before；　but　they　were　his。



He　laughed　silently　and　internally；　with　the　still　intensity　of　triumphant

joy。



So；　then；　all　thinking　creatures　did　not　send　up　the　one　cry〃As　thou；

dear　Lord；　has　created　things　in　the　beginning；　so　are　they　now；　so　ought

they　to　be；　so　will　they　be；　world　without　end；　and　it　doesn't　concern　us

what　they　are。　　Amen。〃　　There　were　men　to　whom　not　only　kopjes　and　stones

were　calling　out　imperatively；　〃What　are　we；　and　how　came　we　here？　

Understand　us；　and　know　us；〃　but　to　whom　even　the　old；　old　relations

between　man　and　man；　and　the　customs　of　the　ages　called；　and　could　not　be

made　still　and　forgotten。



The　boy's　heavy　body　quivered　with　excitement。　　So　he　was　not　alone；　not

alone。　　He　could　not　quite　have　told　any　one　why　he　was　so　glad；　and　this

warmth　had　come　to　him。　　His　cheeks　were　burning。　　No　wonder　that　Bonaparte

called　in　vain；　and　Doss　put　his　paws　on　the　ladder；　and　whined　till　three…

quarters　of　an　hour　had　passed。　　At　last　the　boy　put　the　book　in　his　breast

and　buttoned　it　tightly　to　him。　　He　took　up　the　salt　pot；　and　went　to　the

top　of　the　ladder。　　Bonaparte；　with　his　hands　folded　under　his　coat…tails；

looked　up　when　he　appeared；　and　accosted　him。



〃You've　been　rather　a　long　time　up　there；　my　lad；〃　he　said；　as　the　boy

descended　with　a　tremulous　haste；　most　unlike　his　ordinary　slow　movements。

〃You　didn't　hear　me　calling；　I　suppose？〃



Bonaparte　whisked　the　tails　of　his　coat　up　and　down　as　he　looked　at　him。　

He；　Bonaparte　Blenkins；　had　eyes　which　were　very　far…seeing。　　He　looked　at

the　pot。　　It　was　rather　a　small　pot　to　have　taken　three…quarters　of　an　hour

in　the　filling。　　He　looked　at　the　face。　　It　was　flushed。　　And　yet；　Tant

Sannie　kept　no　winehe　had　not　been　drinking；　his　eyes　were　wide　open　and

brighthe　had　not　been　sleeping；　there　was　no　girl　up　therehe　had　not

been　making　love。　　Bonaparte　looked　at　him　sagaciously。　　What　would　account

for　the　marvellous　change　in　the　boy　coming　down　the　ladder　from　the　boy

going　up　the　ladder？　　One　thing　there　was。　　Did　not　Tant　Sannie　keep　in　the

loft　bultongs；　and　nice　smoked　sausages？　　There　must　be　something　nice　to

eat　up　there！　　Aha！　that　was　it！



Bonaparte　was　so　interested　in　carrying　out　this　chain　of　inductive

reasoning　that　he　quite　forgot　to　have　his　boots　blacked。



He　watched　the　boy　shuffle　off　with　the　salt…pot　under　his　arm；　then　he

stood　in　his　doorway　and　raised　his　eyes　to　the　quiet　blue　sky；　and　audibly

propounded　this　riddle　to　himself：



〃What　is　the　connection　between　the　naked　back　of　a　certain　boy　with　a

greatcoat　on　and　a　salt…pot　under　his　arm；　and　the　tip　of　a　horsewhip？　

Answer：　　No　connection　at　present；　but　there　will　be　soon。〃



Bonaparte　was　so　pleased　with　this　sally　of　his　wit　that　he　chuckled　a

little　and　went　to　lie　down　on　his　bed。



There　was　bread…baking　that　afternoon；　and　there　was　a　fire　lighted　in　the

brick　oven　behind　the　house；　and　Tant　Sannie　had　left　the　great　wooden…

elbowed　chair　in　which　she　passed　her　life；　and　waddled　out　to　look　at　it。

Not　far　off　was　Waldo；　who；　having　thrown　a　pail　of　food　into　the　pigsty；

now　leaned　over　the　sod　wall　looking　at　the　pigs。　　Half　of　the　sty　was　dry；

but　the　lower　half　was　a　pool　of　mud；　on　the　edge　of　which　the　mother　sow

lay　with　closed　eyes；　her　ten　little　ones　sucking；　the　father　pig；　knee…

deep　in　the　mud；　stood　running　his　snout　into　a　rotten　pumpkin　and

wriggling　his　curled　tail。



Waldo　wondered　dreamily　as　he　stared　why　they　were　pleasant　to　look　at。　

Taken　singly　they　were　not　beautiful；　taken　together　they　were。　　Was　it　not

because　there　was　a　certain　harmony　about　them？　　The　old　sow　was　suited　to

the　little　pigs；　and　the　little　pigs　to　their　mother；　the　old　boar　to　the

rotten　pumpkin；　and　all　to　the　mud。　　They　suggested　the　thought　of　nothing

that　should　be　added；　of　nothing　that　should　be　taken　away。　　And；　he

wondered　on　vaguely；　was　not　that　the　secret　of　all　beauty；　that　you　who

look　on　　So　he　stood　dreaming；　and　leaned　further　and　further　over　the

sod　wall；　and　looked　at　the　pigs。



All　this　time　Bonaparte　Blenkins　was　sloping　down　from　the　house　in　an

aimless　sort　of　way；　but　he　kept　one　eye　fixed　on　the　pigsty；　and　each

gyration　brought　him　nearer　to　it。　　Waldo　stood　like　a　thing　asleep　when

Bonaparte　came　close　up　to　him。



In　old　days；　when　a　small　boy；　playing　in　an　Irish　street…gutter；　he；

Bonaparte；　had　been　familiarly　known　among　his　comrades　under　the　title　of

Tripping　Ben；　this；　from　the　rare　ease　and　dexterity　with　which；　by　merely

projecting　his　foot；　he　could　precipitate　any　unfortunate　companion　on　to

the　crown　of　his　head。　　Years　had　elapsed；　and　Tripping　Ben　had　become

Bonaparte；　but　the　old　gift　was　in　him　still。　　He　came　close　to　the　pigsty。　

All　the　defunct　memories　of　his　boyhood　returned　on　him　in　a　flood；　as；

with　an　adroit　movement；　he　inserted　his　leg　between　Waldo　and　the　wall　and

sent　him　over　into　the　pigsty。



The　little　pigs　were　startled　at　the　strange　intruder；　and　ran　behind　their

mother；　who　sniffed　at　him。　　Tant　Sannie　smote　her　hands　together　and

laughed；　but　Bonaparte　was　far　from　joining　her。　　Lost　in　reverie；　he　gazed

at　the　distant　horizon。



The　sudden　reversal　of　head　and　feet　had　thrown　out　the　volume　that　Waldo

carried　in　his　breast。　　Bonaparte　picked　it　up　and　began　to　inspect　it；　as

the　boy　climbed　slowly　over　the　wall。　　He　would　h