the story of a bad boy(顽童故事)-第2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！
all which I had obtained at school； where history had never been a favorite
pursuit of mine。
I was no longer unwilling to go North； on the contrary； the proposed
journey to a new world full of wonders kept me awake nights。 I promised
myself all sorts of fun and adventures； though I was not entirely at rest in
my mind touching the savages； and secretly resolved to go on board the
ship…the journey was to be made by sea…with a certain little brass pistol in
my trousers…pocket； in case of any difficulty with the tribes when we
landed at Boston。
I couldn't get the Indian out of my head。 Only a short time previously
the Cherokees…or was it the Camanches？…had been removed from their
hunting…grounds in Arkansas； and in the wilds of the Southwest the red
men were still a source of terror to the border settlers。 〃Trouble with the
Indians〃 was the staple news from Florida published in the New Orleans
papers。 We were constantly hearing of travellers being attacked and
murdered in the interior of that State。 If these things were done in Florida；
why not in Massachusetts？
Yet long before the sailing day arrived I was eager to be off。 My
impatience was increased by the fact that my father had purchased for me
a fine little Mustang pony； 20and shipped it to Rivermouth a fortnight
previous to the date set for our own departure…for both my parents were to
accompany me。 The pony （which nearly kicked me out of bed one night in
a dream）； and my father's promise that he and my mother would come to
Rivermouth every other summer； completely resigned me to the situation。
The pony's name was Gitana； which is the Spanish for gypsy； so I always
called her…she was a lady pony…Gypsy。
At length the time came to leave the vine…covered mansion among the
orange…trees； to say goodby to little black Sam （I am convinced he was
6
… Page 7…
The Story of a Bad Boy
heartily glad to get rid of me）； and to part with simple Aunt Chloe； who； in
the confusion of her grief； kissed an eyelash into my eye； and then buried
her face in the bright bandana turban which she had mounted that morning
in honor of our departure。
I fancy them standing by the open garden gate； the tears are rolling
down Aunt Chloe's cheeks； Sam's six front teeth are glistening like pearls；
I wave my hand to him manfully。 then I call out 〃goodby〃 in a muffled
voice to Aunt Chloe； they and the old home fade away。 I am never to see
them again！
7
… Page 8…
The Story of a Bad Boy
CHAPTER Three
On Board the Typhoon
I do not remember much about the voyage to Boston； for after the first
few hours at sea I was dreadfully unwell。
The name of our ship was the 〃A No。 1； fast…sailing packet Typhoon。〃 I
learned afterwards that she sailed fast only in the newspaper
advertisements。 My father owned one quarter of the Typhoon； and that is
why we happened to go in her。 I tried to guess which quarter of the ship he
owned； and finally concluded it must be the hind quarter…the cabin； in
which we had the cosiest of state…rooms； with one round window in the
roof； and two shelves or boxes nailed up against the wall to sleep in。
There was a good deal of confusion on deck while we were getting
under way。 The captain shouted orders （to which nobody seemed to pay
any attention） through a battered tin trumpet； and grew so red in the face
that he reminded me of a scooped…out pumpkin with a lighted candle
inside。 He swore right and left at the sailors without the slightest regard for
their feelings。 They didn't mind it a bit； however； but went on singing…
〃Heave ho！
With the rum below；
And hurrah for the Spanish Main O！〃
I will not be positive about 〃the Spanish Main；〃 but it was hurrah for
something O。 I considered them very jolly fellows； and so indeed they
were。 One weather…beaten tar in particular struck my fancy…a thick…set；
jovial man； about fifty years of age； with twinkling blue eyes and a fringe
of gray hair circling his head like a crown。 As he took off his tarpaulin I
observed that the top of his head was quite smooth and flat； as if
somebody had sat down on him when he was very young。
There was something noticeably hearty in this man's bronzed face； a
heartiness that seemed to extend to his loosely knotted neckerchief。 But
what completely won my good…will was a picture of enviable loveliness
8
… Page 9…
The Story of a Bad Boy
painted on his left arm。 It was the head of a woman with the body of a fish。
Her flowing hair was of livid green； and she held a pink comb in one hand。
I never saw anything so beautiful。 I determined to know that man。 I think I
would have given my brass pistol to have had such a picture painted on
my arm。
While I stood admiring this work of art； a fat wheezy steamtug； with
the word AJAX in staring black letters on the paddlebox； came puffing up
alongside the Typhoon。 It was ridiculously small and conceited； compared
with our stately ship。 I speculated as to what it was going to do。 In a few
minutes we were lashed to the little monster； which gave a snort and a
shriek； and commenced backing us out from the levee （wharf） with the
greatest ease。
I once saw an ant running away with a piece of cheese eight or ten
times larger than itself。 I could not help thinking of it； when I found the
chubby； smoky…nosed tug…boat towing the Typhoon out into the
Mississippi River。
In the middle of the stream we swung round； the current caught us； and
away we flew like a great winged bird。 Only it didn't seem as if we were
moving。 The shore； with the countless steamboats； the tangled rigging of
the ships； and the long lines of warehouses； appeared to be gliding away
from us。
It was grand sport to stand on the quarter…deck and watch all this。
Before long there was nothing to be seen on other side but stretches of low
swampy land； covered with stunted cypress trees； from which drooped
delicate streamers of Spanish moss…a fine place for alligators and Congo
snakes。 Here and there we passed a yellow sand…bar； and here and there a
snag lifted its nose out of the water like a shark。
〃This is your last chance to see the city； To see the city； Tom；〃 said my
father； as we swept round a bend of the river。
I turned and looked。 New Orleans was just a colorless mass of
something in the distance； and the dome of the St。 Charles Hotel； upon
which the sun shimmered for a moment； was no bigger than the top of old
Aunt Chloe's thimble。
What do I remember next？ The gray sky and the fretful blue waters of
9
… Page 10…
The Story of a Bad Boy
the Gulf。 The steam…tug had long since let slip her hawsers and gone
panting away with a derisive scream； as much as to say； 〃I've done my
duty； now look out for yourself； old Typhoon！〃
The ship seemed quite proud of being left to take care of itself； and；
with its huge white sails bulged out； strutted off like a vain turkey。 I had
been standing by my father near the wheel…house all this while； observing
things with that nicety of perception which belongs only to children； but
now the dew began falling； and we went below to have supper。
The fresh fruit and milk； and the slices of cold chicken； looked very
nice； yet somehow I had no appetite There was a general smell of tar about
everything。 Then the ship gave sudden lurches that made it a matter of
uncertainty whether one was going to put his fork to his mouth or into his
eye。 The tumblers and wineglasses； stuck in a rack over the table； kept
clinking and clinking； and the cabin lamp； suspended by four gilt chains
from the ceiling； swayed to and fro crazily。 Now the floor seemed to rise；
and now it seemed to sink under one's feet like a feather…bed。
There were not more than a dozen passengers on board； including
ourselves； and all of these； excepting a bald…headed old gentleman…a
retired sea…captain…disappeared into their staterooms at an early hour of the
evening。
After supper was cleared away； my father and the elderly gentleman；
whose name was Captain Truck； played at checkers； and I amused myself
for a while by watching the trouble they had in keeping the men in the
proper places。 just at the most exciting point of the game； the ship would
careen； and down would go the white checkers pell…mell among the black。
Then my father laughed； but Captain Truck would grow very angry； and
vow that he would have won the game in a move or two more； if the
confounded old chicken…coop…that's what he called the ship…hadn't lurched。
〃I…I think I will go to bed now； please；〃 I said； laying my band on my
father's knee； and feeling exceedingly queer。
It was high time； for the Typhoon was plunging about in the most
alarming fashion。 I was speedily tucked away in the upper berth； where I
felt a trifle more easy at first。 My clothes were placed on a narrow shelf at
my feet； and it was a great comfort to me to know that my pistol was so
10
… Page 11…
The Story of a Bad Boy
handy； for I made no doubt we should fall in with Pirates before many
hours。 This is the last thing I remember with any distinctness。 At midnight；
as I was afterwards told； we were struck by a gale which never left us until
we came in sight of the Massachusetts coast。
For days and days I had no sensible idea of what was going on around
me。 That we were being hurled somewhere upside…down； and that I didn't
like it； was about all I knew。 I have； indeed； a v
