Chapter 9 February 6, 1910 (1) (3)

February 6, 1910 (1) (3) "Isn't the flood in that country far away in Pennsylvania?" I said, "How could it flood our place?" "That's your way of saying it," Lewis said. "The water is as deep and as wet in Pennsylvania as it is in Jefferson, that's my opinion. Those who say the water won't go so far end up adrift with a beam in their arms. " "Did you and Martha escape that night?" "We went out before the flood and then entered the house. I turned on the lights anyway, so I squatted with her behind the cemetery on the top of the hill all night. If we knew there was a higher place, it would be no wonder we didn't go."

"You never wiped the lamp after that?" "There's no need to wipe it for what?" "You mean, wait until the next time there's a big flood before wiping it off." "Isn't it the one that helped us escape the last flood?" "Hey, you're funny, Uncle Louis," I said. "Yes, sir. You have your way, and I have mine. If I can keep the flood out by rubbing the lamps, I don't want to quarrel with anyone." "Uncle Lewis wouldn't use a lighted lamp to catch an animal," Versh said. "When I first hunted possums around here, they were still washing nits off your father's head with kerosene and pinching him, boy," Louis said.

"That's true," Versh said. "I reckon Uncle Louis catches more possums than anybody in the district." "Yeah, sir," said Louis, "I didn't spare the possums with the lamp, and I never heard them complain about the lack of light. Shhh, don't make a noise. There it is. Woo--hey Why don't you snort, stinky dog." Then we sat down on the dead leaves, with the slow exhalation of our waiting and the slow breathing of the earth and the windless October day and the dead leaves whispered softly, and the stench of the kerosene lamp polluted the clean air, and we listened to the fading echoes of the dogs barking and Louis's yelling.He never raised his voice, but we could hear him from the front porch in the dead of night.When he called his dog into the house, the sound was like the trumpet he carried on his shoulder but never used, only clearer and more mellow, and the sound seemed to be a combination of night and silence. Divide, expand from there, and shrink to go there again.Woo-oh.Woo-oh.Woo-oh-oh.I have to get married ③

Have you had many lovers, Katie? I don't know too many people can you take care of Benji and father You don't even know who it is, does he know? ① Possum is a North American animal, the size of a domestic cat, with a tail that can lift the body, and loves to live in trees.Female rats often carry young rats on their backs, hence the name.Farmers in the southern United States often bring hunting dogs to catch possums in late autumn and early winter.First, hunting dogs tracked down the stinking trails, and then hunters used kerosene lamps (later changed to flashlights) to shine on the trees, using the light reflected from the possum's eyes, to find the possum and shake it off.It is usually roasted and eaten with sweet potatoes. It tastes like pork but is more fatty.The horn, mentioned earlier, is used by hunters to call back hunting dogs.

②This is the sound of a dog barking. ③Recalling the conversation on the eve of Katie's wedding. don't touch me please take care of benji and father please I could already feel the presence of the river before I came to the bridge. The bridge was made of gray stones, covered with lichens, and fungal plants grew out of the mottled spots that gradually came up.Beneath the bridge the water, clear and still, lay in shadow, whirling in softer and gentler eddies, reflecting the whirling sky, murmuring and gurgling about the piers.Katie that I gotta get married Versh told me about a man who crippled himself.He went into the woods, sat in a ditch and did it with a razor.With a flick of the broken razor, the two clumps flew behind the shoulders, and the same movement sent a stream of blood spurting backwards without swirling.But the problem is not here.Cutting them off doesn't solve the problem.Had to be without them from the beginning so I could say oh that's the Chinese way and I don't know the Chinese.So the father said it was because you were a virgin, don't you understand?Women are never virgins.Purity is a negative state and thus unnatural.It's nature that hurts you not Katie, so I say it's bullshit and he says then chastity is bullshit and I say you don't understand.You can't understand so he said yes.By the time we get to that point there is nothing new about tragedy.

Where the shadow of the bridge fell on the river, I could see the depths of the roots, but not the bottom.If you let a leaf soak in water for a long time, the mesophyll will slowly rot, and the thin fibers will slowly swing as if in a dream.The fibers do not touch each other, although they used to be tangled and tightly connected to the veins.Perhaps when he spoke, those eyes too would open from deep silence and sleep, and rise to the surface to look upon the Lord of Glory.After a while, the two irons will also float.I hid the iron under the bridge on one side, and went back to the bridge, leaning against the railing.

① refers to Jesus. ② Quentin has chosen that place as the place where he committed suicide. I couldn't see the bottom of the river, but I could see deep in the river, where the water was moving slowly, and I looked down until my eyes could make out nothing, and then I saw a shadow like a stubby root The horizontal stem of the arrow is in the current.Mayfly crabs fly close to the water surface, skimming into the shadow of the bridge for a while, and skimming out of the shadow of the bridge for a while.If only there were a hell beyond this world: the pure fire would take both of us beyond death.Then you'll be alone and I'll be alone then we'll be both in tongues of flame and terror beyond the pure fire The arrow doesn't move but grows thicker and then a trout snaps He licked away a mayfly, although his movements were large but light, like an elephant sweeping away a peanut from the ground.The small eddy that gradually tended to moderate moved downstream, and I saw the arrow again, gently swinging along the water flow, with its head sticking out in the water flow, and the mayfly fluttered on the water surface from time to time.Then it's just you and me in flames and terror surrounded by pure fire

The trout hung gracefully and motionless in the swaying shadows.At this time, three boys came to the bridge with the poles on their shoulders, and we all leaned on the railing and looked down at the trout in the water.They knew the trout.It is certainly a well-known character in this area. "Anybody's been trying to catch him for twenty-five years. There's a shop in Boston offering a fishing rod worth twenty-five dollars to whoever catches him." "Then why don't you catch him? Don't you want a twenty-five-dollar rod?" "Think," they said.All three were leaning on the bridge railing, watching the fish in the water. "Of course I would," said one of them.

"I don't want a fishing rod," said another kid. "I'd like twenty-five dollars." ① Refers to himself and Katie. "Perhaps the people in the store won't do it," said the first child, "they'll only give guns." "Then I'll sell it." "How can you sell it for twenty-five dollars?" "I can sell as much as I can. I can catch no less fish with this fishing rod than the twenty-five yuan one." Then they argued, if they had the twenty-five yuan How will they spend the money.The three of them spoke at the same time, none of them would budge, they all tried to overwhelm the others, and their anger grew, turning what was nothing at all into something vague.Then it was said to be a possibility, and finally it became an iron-clad fact. People express their wishes like this in nine out of ten cases.

"I will buy a horse and a carriage," said the second boy. "Don't be funny," said the other two kids. "I can get it. I know where I can get a horse and a buggy for twenty-five dollars: I know the man." "Who is it?" "You don't care who it is. I can get it for twenty-five bucks anyway." "Hmph," said the two, "he doesn't understand anything. It's all nonsense." "Who's talking nonsense?" said the boy.They continued to laugh at him, but he stopped talking back.He leaned against the rail and looked down at the trout he had bartered.Suddenly the sarcastic, defiant tone was gone from the boys' voices, as if they, too, really felt that he had caught the fish, bought the horse and the buggy, and they had learned the grown-up temper , as long as you put on a silent and reserved posture, they will believe everything is true.I think those who deceive themselves and others by words to a great extent agree on one point, that is, that a silent tongue is the highest wisdom.So for the next few minutes I perceived that the two boys were anxious to find some way of dealing with the other boy, to take his horse and carriage.

"You can't sell that fishing rod for twenty-five dollars," said the first boy. "You can bet on anything, you can't sell it." "He hasn't caught that trout yet," said the third boy suddenly, and they both yelled: "By the way, didn't I already tell you? What's the name of that person? I'm sorry you can't tell. There is no such person." "Hmph, less nonsense," said the second child. "Look, the fish are coming up again." They leaned against the bridge rail, motionless, in exactly the same posture, and the three fishing rods were slightly tilted in the sun, and the angles were exactly the same.The trout came up unhurriedly, and his faint swaying shadow grew larger; another little eddy, fading, moved downstream. "Great," murmured the first child. "We don't expect to catch him," he said. "We'll just have to wait and see what the Bostonians can do." "Is this the only fish in this pool?" "Yes. He chased all the other fish away. The best place to fish around here is down there in the big whirlpool." "No, it's not very good there," said the second child. "It's twice as good at the Moulin de Pigello." Then they bickered again about where the best fishing was, and then they stopped arguing abruptly, admiring how the trout came up again and watching the little whirlpool that was broken up How to suck up the next little patch of sky.I asked how far it was from the nearest town.They told me. "But the nearest tram line is over there," said the second kid, pointing in the direction I came from. "Where are you going?". "Not going anywhere. Just walk around." "Are you from college?" "Yes. Is there a factory in that town?" "Factory?" They stared at me. "No," said the second child, "no factories." They looked at my clothes. "Are you looking for a job?" "How about the Mill of Pigaro?" said the third child. "That's a factory." "What kind of factory is that. He means a proper factory." "A factory with sirens," I said. "I haven't heard the one o'clock whistle anywhere yet." "Oh," said the second boy, "there's a clock on the steeple of the Unitarian church. You can tell the time by looking at that clock. Don't you have a watch on that chain?" "I broke it this morning." I showed them the watch.They looked at it solemnly for a long time. "The watch is still running," said the second. "How much is such a watch worth?" "It's a gift from someone," I said. "My dad gave it to me when I graduated high school." "Are you Canadian?" asked the third child.He has red hair. "Canadian?" "He doesn't have a Canadian accent," said the second. "I've heard Canadians talk. He's got the accent of those actors in the black troupe." "Hey," said the third, "are you not afraid that he will beat you?" "hit me?" "You said he talked like a black person." "Oh, stop talking nonsense," said the second. "You can see the clock tower when you climb over that hill." I said thank you to them. "I wish you luck. Don't hook that old trout, though. Let him go." "Nobody can catch the fish anyway," said the first boy.They leaned on the railing and looked down into the water. In the sunlight, the three fishing rods were like three diagonal lines of yellow flames.I walk on my shadow and step it into the dappled tree shadows again.The road is winding and winding, gradually rising from the river.It climbs over the hill, and then winds down, taking the eyes and thoughts into a quiet green tunnel, to the square clock tower and round clock face standing on the top of the tree, but there is still a long way to go .I sat down on the side of the road.The grass was ankle deep and dense.The slanting beams of sunlight cast shadows on the road, and the shadows were as motionless as if they had been stenciled there.But it was only a train, and after a while its shadow and the long sound disappeared behind the woods, and I could hear my watch again and the sound of the train going away, under the motionless seagulls in the air Galloping away, galloping under everything, as if it had just spent another month, another summer elsewhere.But not under Girard.Girard, too, was something of a marvel; he rowed in solitude till noon and past noon, almost ecstasy in the vast bright air, into a kind of turmoil. The limitless realm, where nothing exists but himself and the gull, motionless and formidable, while he strokes his oars in regular strokes, overcoming the resistance of inertia, under their shadows in the sun , the whole world seems lazy.Katie that rascal that rascal Katie② Their voices came from the hill, and the three thin bamboo poles were like balance poles with fire flowing on them.They looked at me and walked past me without slowing down. ①The thoughts shifted from "the present" to Girard who was paddling in the river. ②From Girard to the scene of the meeting with Herbert Hyde. "Hey," I said, "didn't see you hook it." "We were going to catch it," said the first child. "No one can catch this fish." "There's the clock," said the second boy, pointing ahead. "You can see what time it is if you get closer." "Yes," I said, "Okay." I stood up. "Are you all going to town?" "Let's go minnow fishing at the Great Whirlpool," said the first kid. "You can't catch anything in the Great Whirlpool," said the second boy. "I thought you meant to fish at the mill, but all the splashing and splashing scared the fish away." "You can't catch anything in the Maelstrom." "If we don't move on, we won't catch any fish," said the third child. "I don't know why you keep talking about big whirlpools, big whirlpools," said the second boy. "Can't catch anything there anyway." "If you don't go, no one will force you to go," said the first child. "I didn't chain you to me." "Let's go swimming at the mill," said the third boy. "I'm going to fish in the Great Whirlpool anyway," said the first, "and you can do what you like." "Hey, let me ask you, how many times have you heard of a fish being caught in the Great Whirlpool?" the second kid said to the third. "Let's go swimming at the mill," said the third boy.The bell tower sank into the bushes little by little, and the round clock face was still far away.We continued to move forward under the shade of mottled trees.We came to an orchard, which was a red color, and there were a lot of bees in the orchard, and we could hear the buzzing from a long distance away. "Let's go swimming at the mill," said the third boy.A path branched off from the orchard.The third child slowed down and stopped at last.The first one kept going, Ben flecks of sunlight slid down the rod down his shoulders and down the back of his shirt. "Go ahead," said a third.The second boy also stopped.Why do you have to marry Katie? Do you really want me to say it? Do you think that if I say it, nothing like this will happen? "Let's go to the mill," he said. "Let's go." That first child is still going.His bare feet didn't make a sound, falling in the thin dust more lightly than a leaf.In the orchard, the buzzing of the bees seemed like a wind was about to blow in the sky, and this sound was fixed by some kind of magic, just at a volume slightly lighter than the "crescendo" ③, and it has remained unchanged.The path stretches forward along the garden wall. The trees above our heads are like arches, and the fallen flowers are colorful under our feet. The path blends into a green shade from a distance.The sun slanted into the woods, and the ribs were thin and bright, but they seemed to be squeezed in hastily.Yellow butterflies fluttered among the shade, like spots of sunlight. "What are you doing in the Maelstrom?" said the second boy. "Over there at the mill, do you want to fish differently?" "Well, let him go," said the third child.They watched the first boy go away.Pieces of sunlight slid over his moving shoulders, like yellow ants flickering on his fishing rod. "Kenny," the second kid called.You go and explain it to your father, okay? ③ What I will talk about is that I am the "god of reproduction" of my father. I invented him and created him.Go tell him it's not okay because he will say it's not me and you and me because you love your children. ①Back to that conversation on the eve of Katie's wedding. ② Here is a musical term, "crescendo". ③Recall the conversation on the eve of Katie's wedding. "Well, let's go," said the child, "they're already playing." They glanced again at the back of the first child. "Hey," they said suddenly, "if you want to go, you sweetie. If he swims in the water, he'll get his hair wet and he'll get beaten." They turned up the path and went, and the yellow butterfly slanted Flying obliquely in the shade around them. Because I don't believe in anything else ① Maybe there's something to believe in but maybe not so I say you'll find that saying your situation isn't fair doesn't carry enough weight.He ignored me, his neck stuck stubbornly, his face turned away slightly under the battered hat. ② "Why don't you limit them to swimming together?" I said.That's a rascal Katie③ You were trying to pick a fight with him yesterday, weren't you? He's a braggart and a liar Katie He plays cards and tricks Get kicked out of the club No one knows him anymore He cheated on midterms He got kicked out of school Is it so what does it matter I don't play poker with him anyway "You prefer fishing to swimming, don't you?" I said.The buzzing of the bees was now subdued, but continued, as if instead of us falling into the silence around us, the silence rose around us like water.That road turned another house and turned into a street with white bungalows with green lawns on both sides.Katie that's a rogue you think of it for Benji and father's sake it's not for me ① This passage is a conversation between Quentin and Katie after Katie committed herself to Dalton Amis. ② Return to "Current".The "he" here refers to the "first child". ③Thinking of the conversation between him and Katie on the eve of Katie's wedding. What else do I think about but them? They're all I've ever thought of? The boy left the street.He climbed over a wooden fence with missing stakes, and without looking back, walked across the lawn to a tree, put his fishing rod on the ground, climbed up the branch of the tree himself, and sat there with his back to the street. , the mottled sunlight finally stayed motionless on his white shirt.Don't you always think about them? I can't even cry Last year I was dead I told you I was dead But I didn't know what that meant I didn't know what I said What do you mean? It was like this for a few days at the end of August in my hometown, the air was thin and warm, as if there was something sad, nostalgic and familiar in the air.Man is nothing but the sum of his climatic experiences, the Father said.Man is the sum of all that he has.Ill-gotten wealth will always be disgustingly led to the emptiness of people and wealth: one side is full of lust, and the other side is all thoughts are dead, and the two sides are at a stalemate.But now I know I'm really dead I tell you Then why do you have to marry listen listen we can go you Benji and I go where no one knows us where the wagon is drawn by a white horse whose hooves are in the thin dust There was a rattling sound, and the thin-spoked wheels made a sharp and dry creaking sound, and the carriage slowly climbed up the slope under layers of undulating green yarn-like branches and leaves.It's elm.No, it's ellum. Ellum. ② What about the money? Is it your tuition? That money came from the family selling the ranch so that you can go to Harvard. Don't you understand? You have to graduate now or he won't have anything. Sold the ranch His white shirt was motionless on the twig in the flickering light.The spokes of the wheels were as thin as spider webs.Although the carriage is heavy, the hooves of the horses are hitting the ground swiftly, as briskly as a lady who is embroidering. She doesn't seem to be moving, but is shrinking little by little, just like a character who is quickly dragged off the stage on a treadmill. .The street turned again.Now I could see the white clock tower and the round clock face that told the hours stupidly and arbitrarily.sold the ranch ①I also thought of Katie's family sending a carriage to the train station to pick up relatives and friends on the eve of her wedding. ② Quentin first thought with a southern accent. In the south, the pronunciation of "elm" (elm) is the same as that of standard English.Then he remembered that in rural New England people pronounced it ellum, and he "corrected" himself. They say daddy will die within a year if he doesn't stop drinking but he won't stop drinking and won't stop since I've been since last summer if he dies they send Benjy to Jackson I can't cry I can't even cry ② She stood at the door for a while, and after a while, Benji pulled her clothes and roared loudly. His voice was like waves hitting back and forth between several walls, and she huddled in front of the wall and became smaller and smaller. All I saw was a pale face, her eyeballs were bulging, as if someone was digging her with a thumb, and then he pushed her out of the room, and his voice was still pounding back and forth, as if the dynamics of the voice itself wouldn't let it stop. Still roaring as if the silence couldn't contain the sound When you pushed the door, the bell rang, ③ but only once, and the sound was sharp, clear, and subtle, and it came from some clean corner on the top of the door, as if it had been calculated during the forging. Send out a crisp and thin sound, so that the life of the bell crotch can be longer, and Jing Jing will not need to spend a lot of effort to restore his rule.As soon as the door opened, there was a smell of freshly baked food. There was only one dirty little girl with eyes like a teddy bear and two pigtails like patent leather, black and shiny. "Hi, little sister." In the sweet and warm empty shop, her face was like a cup of milk being hurriedly mixed with coffee. "Is anyone here?" But she just stared at me until the proprietress opened the door and came out. ① This sentence was said by Katie in the conversation on the eve of the wedding. She was embarrassed to say since she lost her virginity, but said since last summer. ②From here, the scene turns to the day Katie lost her virginity, and Benji cried and made a fuss. ③Back to the "present" again, Quentin opened the door and walked into a bakery in the small town. In the matching glass windows, rows of crispy snacks are displayed. Her gray and clean face appears on the counter, and her gray and clean head has thin hair that clings to her head , with a pair of clean glasses with gray and white frames on his face. The two lenses are very close together, like two insulators on a telephone pole, or like a cash box used in a store.She looks more like a librarian, like some cultural relic that has long been irrelevant to reality stored on an orderly and certain dusty shelf, quietly drying and drying again, like a wisp Experienced the atmosphere of injustice and injustice in the past "Give me two of these loaves, Ma'am, please." She took out a newspaper cut into a square from under the counter, put it on the counter, picked up the two buns and placed them on the newspaper.The little girl looked at the bread quietly and intently, her eyes like two raisins floating on a cup of weak coffee.The land of the Jews, the homeland of the Italians.Looking at the bread, looking at the clean gray hands, there is a wide gold ring on the index finger of the left hand, which is worn around the knuckles, and the knuckles are blue. "Did you bake your own bread, Ma'am?" "Sir?" she said.Just like that.gentlemen?Like the tone on stage.gentlemen? "Five cents. Anything else?" "No, mamma. I don't need anything. But this lady wants something." The landlady wasn't tall enough to look over the bread cabinet, so she went to the end of the counter and looked out at the little girl. "Did you bring her in just now?" "No, Mother. She was here when I came in." ①There is a line in the lyrics of the American national anthem "The Star-Spangled Banner": "Land of the free, home of the brave."Quentin saw the face of the proprietress (with Jewish features) and the little girl's face (with Italian features), so he subconsciously changed the lyrics. "You little rascal," she said.She came out from behind the counter without touching the little girl. "Did you put anything in your pocket?" "She doesn't have a pocket at all," I said. "She wasn't doing anything. Just standing here waiting for you." "Then why didn't the doorbell ring?" She glared at me.She should have had an electric switchboard, a blackboard behind her 2x2=5 head. "She'll hide things under her clothes and no one will know. Hey, boy. How did you get in here?" The little girl didn't say a word.She looked at the landlady, then cast me a sullen glance, then looked at the landlady again. "The foreigners," said the proprietress. "The bell didn't ring. How did she get in?" "She came in with me when I opened the door," I said. "Two people came in, and the doorbell rang once. Anyway, she couldn't reach anything outside the counter. And I don't think she would take things indiscriminately. Would you, little sister?" The little girl was secretive and thoughtful looked at me thoughtfully. "What do you want? Bread?" She sticks out her fist.The fist opened, and there was a nickel inside, damp and dirty, the grime of the wet dripping embedded in her flesh.The nickel market was not only damp but also a little hot.I could smell it, it was a faint metallic smell. "Have you got a five-cent baguette here, Mother?" She took out a square newspaper from under the counter, put it on the counter, and wrapped a piece of bread in it.I put that coin on the counter and added another. "Bring another of those buns, Ma'am, please." She took another bun from the cabinet. "Give me that bag," she said.I handed it to her, and she opened it, put the third loaf with the loaf, wrapped it, put in the coins, took two copper coins from her apron, and handed them to me.I gave them to the little girl.Her fingers curled up to hold the money tightly, and her fingers were wet and hot, like caterpillars. "Are you going to give her that bun?" said the landlady. "Yes, Ma'am," I said. "I'm sure she tastes as good on your baked bread as I do." I picked up two paper packages and handed the bag of long bread to the little girl. The lady boss, whose top and bottom were iron gray, looked at us coldly and thoughtfully. "Wait a minute," she said, and went into the back room.The doors that separated the shop opened and closed.The little girl looked at me, holding the bag of bread in front of her dirty clothes. "What's your name?" I asked.She has stopped looking at me, but still doesn't move.She didn't even seem to be breathing.The proprietress is back.In her hand was a strange-looking object.Judging from the way she was holding it, it seemed that it was the corpse of a little mouse she raised for entertainment. "Here you are," she said.The little girl looked at her. "Take it," said the proprietress, stuffing the things into the little girl's arms. "It doesn't look very pretty. But I don't think you can tell the difference when you eat it. Take it. I can't stand here all day." The child took it, still looking at her.The proprietress wiped her hands on her apron. "I've got to get someone to fix the doorbell," she said.She walked to the door and yanked it open with all her might.The little bell rang, softly and crisply, but I still couldn't see where it came from.We walked towards the door, and the proprietress turned her head to look at us. "Thank you for bringing her the snack," I said. "These foreigners," she said, looking into the dark corner where the bell rang, "young man, take my advice and stay away from them." "Yes, Ma'am," I said. "Come on, little sister." We walked out. "Thank you, Mom." She slammed the door shut, and then pulled it open so hard that the bell catch made that faint sound. "Foreigner," she said, glancing up at the crotch. We move forward. "Hey," I said, "would you like some ice cream?" She was eating the crooked pie. "Do you like ice cream?" She gave me a dark, deadpan look, still chewing, "Come on." We went into a pharmacy and ordered some ice cream.She refused to put down the loaf in her hand. "Why don't you put it down and eat it?" I said, reaching out to catch the food.But she held on tightly, chewing the ice cream like toffee.The bitten cake was on the table.She ate ice cream, then pie, and looked around at the glass cabinets.I finished my share, and the two of us walked out into the street. "Where is your home?" I asked. A carriage, the kind with a white horse.Except Dr. Peabody was a fat man.Three hundred pounds.We hung on his wagon and went uphill with him. ① children.Hanging on a car and climbing uphill is more tiring than walking by yourself.did you go to the doctor did you go no katie There's no need for me to beg for help now, and I'll set up one in the future. It doesn't matter. Because women are so fragile and mysterious, my father said. ② There happens to be a periodic discharge of dirt between two full moons to maintain a delicate balance.The moon, he said, her round yellow thighs and buttocks are like the plump moon in the harvest season.It's always like this when it drips out: it's yellow.Like bare feet turning up when walking.Then they knew that there was a man who hid all these mysteries and anxieties. In their hearts, they pretended to be like little birds on the outside, waiting for people to caress them.The rotting liquid is like something that floats after being submerged, and it's like the gas in rubber ① Quentin saw the carriage on the street and remembered his mischievous childhood.Then, from Doctor Peabody, I thought of asking Katie to go to the doctor (pregnant).Dr. Peabody appears in many of Faulkner's novels as a fat man. ②I remembered the discussion about women that my father once made in front of him.Not full of languid confuse the scent of honeysuckle with something else. "You'd better not eat your bread and take it home, will you?" She looks at me.She chewed without saying a word; every once in a while a little lump slipped down her throat.I opened my paper bag and took out a bun for her. "Goodbye." I said. I walked forward, and after a while I turned my head.She followed me. "Is your home here?" She said nothing.She walked beside me, right under my elbow, so to speak, and ate as she walked.Let's go forward together.The street was quiet, hardly any passers-by confused the scent of honeysuckle with anything else She would have told me not to sit there on the steps to hear her slam the door in the twilight and hear Benji still in Crying at supper she should have come downstairs Mixing up the scent of ninja naka with something else We came to the corner. "Oh, I have to go this way," I said, "bye." She also stopped.She swallowed the last morsel of the pastry, then began to eat the bun, looking over it at me. "Goodbye," I said.I turned onto another street and walked on. I didn't stop until I got to the next corner. "Which way is your home?" I said. "Is it this way?" I pointed to the front of the street.She just looked at me. "You live on the other side? I'm sure you live near the station, where the trains stop. Don't you?" She just looked at me, serene, mysterious, as she chewed.Both ends of the street are empty, there are only quiet lawns and neat houses between the trees, and there is no one except the place we just walked.We turned around and walked back.Two men were sitting on chairs in front of a shop. "Do you all recognize this little girl? She got attached to me somehow, and I can't ask where she lives." They looked away from me and looked at the little girl. "It must be the new Italian kids," said a man.He was wearing a rust-colored gown. "I've seen her before. What's your name, little girl?" She looked at them darkly for a long moment, her chin moving.She swallowed and continued to chew. "也许她不会说英语，"另一个人说。 "她家里人派她出来买面包，"我说。"她肯定是多少会讲几句的。" "你爸爸叫什么？"第一个说。"彼特？乔？还是约翰什么的？"她又咬了一口圆面包。 "我该拿她怎么办呢？"我说。"她一个劲儿地跟着我。我得赶回波士顿去了。" "你是哈佛大学的吗？" "是的，先生。我得动身回去了。" "你可以到街那一头去把她交给安斯。他肯定在马车行里。他是警察局长。" "看来也只好这样了，"我说。"我非得把她安排妥当不可。多谢了。小妹妹，来吧。" 我们往街那一头走去，顺着有阴影的那一边走，一幢幢房屋长短不等的影子向街心慢慢伸过去。我们来到马车行。警察局长不在，有个人坐在一把椅子上，椅子往那宽阔低矮的门洞里翘进去。一行行马厩里刮出一股带阿摩尼亚味的阴风，那人让我上邮局去找局长。他也不认识这个小姑娘。 "这些外国人。我根本分不出来他们谁是谁。你还是把她带到铁路那边他们住的地方去，没准有谁会认领她的。" 我们走到邮局。邮局在街的另一头。刚才看见的那个穿礼服的人正在翻开一份报纸。 "安斯刚刚赶了车到城外去了，"他说。"我看你最好还是到火车站后面河边他们聚居的地方去走一趟，那儿总有人认得她的。" "我看也只好如此了，"我说。"来吧，小妹妹。"她把最后一小块面包塞进嘴巴，咽了下去。"还要再来一只吗？"我说。她一面咀嚼，一面瞧着我，两只眼睛乌溜溜的，一眨不眨，显出友好的神情。我把另外两只圆面包取出来，给了她一只，自己吃另外一只。我跟一个行人打听火车站怎么走，他指点了我。"来吧，小妹妹。" 我们来到车站，跨过铁路，河就在这儿。有一座桥横跨在河上，沿河是一排乱七八糟的木框架房子，它们背靠着河，形成了一条街道。这是一条狭隘鄙陋的小街，却自有一种五方杂处的生气勃勃的气氛。在一块用残缺不全的栅栏围起来的空地上，有一辆不知哪辈子的歪歪斜斜的破马车，还有一幢饱经风霜的老房子，楼窗上挂着一件鲜艳的淡红色外套。 "这象是你的家吗？"我说。她的眼光越过小圆面包向我瞥来。"是这儿吗？"我指着那幢房子说。她只顾嚼着面包，可是我仿佛觉察出她的神态里有某种肯定、默认的意思，虽然并不热切。"是这儿吗？"我说。"那么来吧。"我走进那扇破破烂烂的院门。我扭过头来看看她。"是这儿吗？"我说。"这儿象是你的家吗？" 她瞅着我，急急地点了点头，又在潮湿的、半月形的圆面包上咬了一口。我们往前走去。一条用形状不规则的碎石板铺成的小径一直通到半坍塌的台阶前，石板缝里钻出了新长出来的又粗又硬的乱草。屋子里外毫无动静，没有风，所以楼窗上挂的那件红外套也是纹丝不动。门上有只瓷制的门铃拉手，连着大约六英尺长的电线，我抽回拉铃的手，改而敲门。那小姑娘嚼着面包，面包皮从嘴缝里戳了出来。 一个妇人来开门了。她瞧了瞧我，接着用意大利语和小姑娘叽哩叭啦地讲了起来，她语调不断提高，接着停顿了一下、仿佛是在提问。她接着又跟小姑娘讲话了，小姑娘的眼光越过嘴巴外面的面包皮看着她，一面用一只脏手把面包皮往嘴巴里推。 "她说她住在这儿，"我说。"我是在大街上碰到她的。这是你让她买的面包吗？" "英语俺不会，"那妇人说。她又对小姑娘说起话来了。小姑娘光是一个劲儿地瞅着她。 "她不是住在这儿的吗？"我说，指指小姑娘，又指指她，又指指那扇门。那妇人摇摇头。她叽哩叭啦地说话。她走到门廊边，朝街那头指了指，嘴巴里还一直不停他说着。 我大幅度地点头，"你来指点一下好吗？"我说。我一只手拉住她的胳膊，另一只手朝街那边挥挥。她急急地说着，一面用手指了指。"你来指给我看吧，"我说，想把她拉下台阶。 "Si，si，①"她说，身子不断地往回缩，一边朝某个方向指了指，我也弄不清到底指的是什么地方。我又点了点头。 "谢谢。谢谢。谢谢了。"我走下台阶，向院门走去，虽然不是小跑，"却也是走得够快的。我来到院门口，停下脚步，看着那小姑娘。面包皮现在不见了，她瞪大了那双黑眼睛友好地看着我。那妇人站在台价上观察着我们。 "那就走吧，"我说。 "我们迟早总会找到你的家的。"她紧挨着我的胳膊肘走着。我们一起往前走。一幢幢房子看上去都象是空荡荡的。见不到一个人影儿。有一种空房子才有的让人透不过气来的感觉。但这么些房子不可以都是空的。如果你能突然一下子把所有的墙拆掉、便会看到各各不同的许多房间。太太，这是您的女儿，请您领回去吧。No.太太，看在上帝的份上，把您的女儿领回去吧。她紧挨着我的胳膊肘往前走，两根扎得紧紧的小辫闪闪发亮，可是这时最后一幢房子也掉在后边了，那条街顺着河边拐了个弯，消失在一堵墙的后面。那妇人这时走到破破烂烂的院门外来了，头上包着一条头巾，一只手在下巴下面抓住了头巾的两只角。那条路弯弯曲曲地向前伸延，路上空荡荡的。我摸出一枚硬币，塞给小姑娘。那是只两角五的硬币。 "再见了，妹妹。"我说。接着我拔腿跑开了。我跑得很快、连头也不回，但是在路快拐弯的地方我扭过头来看了看。她，一个小小的人影，站在路当中，仍然把那只长面包抱紧在肮脏的小衣裙前，眼睛定定的，乌黑乌黑的，一眨也不眨，我继续往前跑。 ①意大利语：好的，好的。