Chapter 108 Chapter 108

Winter passed.Philip used to go to St. Luke's to see if there was any letter from him.He always sneaked into the hospital when the night was dark so that he would not run into acquaintances.He was astonished to receive a letter from his uncle on Easter Sunday, for the Vicar of Blackstable had written him less than half a dozen letters in his life, and they were all business matters. . Dear Philip: If you're thinking of taking a vacation anytime soon and would like to come here, I'd be delighted to meet you.During the winter I was very ill with a bout of chronic bronchitis, and Dr. Wigram had no hope of my recovery.I was unnaturally strong and, thank God, I recovered miraculously.

your dear william carey After reading the letter, Philip felt indignant.In the uncle's mind, what kind of life did Philip live?He didn't even ask in the letter.Even if he was starving to death, the old thing didn't care.However, on the way back to the dormitory, Philip suddenly had an idea, stopped abruptly, stood under a street lamp, took out the letter and read it again, only to see that the handwriting on the letter had lost its usual characteristic. That kind of stubbornness in business affairs, each word is written in a big way, and it is still swaying.Perhaps the illness had hit him more than he would admit, and he wanted this formal letter to express his longing for the one and only family he had in the world.Philip wrote back that he could go to Blackstable for a fortnight in July.The invitation came at the right time, because he had been worrying about how to spend this short vacation.In September the Athelny family was going to gather hops, and he was obliged to go, because by September the patterns for the autumn dresses were all done.Ryan's company has a rule that every employee has to take half a month's vacation whether he wants to or not. During the vacation, if he has nowhere to go, he can still sleep in the dormitory, but he has to take care of his own meals.For some of the clerks, who had no friends around London, the holidays were a nerve-wracking affair.At this time, they had to deduct some money from their meager wages to buy food to satisfy their hunger, and they had nothing to do all day long, living a life of boredom.Two years had passed since he had gone to Brighton with Mildred, and Philip had never left London during this time.Right now, he longed for a breath of fresh air, for a moment of quiet by the sea.He got through May and June with this strong desire, and at last when it came time to leave London he grew uneasy.

On the last evening before leaving London Philip explained to Mr. Sampson one or two remaining tasks.Suddenly Mr. Sampson said to him: "How much salary do you get?" "Six shillings." "Six shillings is too little, I think. When you come back from your holiday, I'll go and ask for an increase to twelve." "Thank you very much," said Philip, smiling. "I am in great need of some clothes." "Carey, I'll take care of you as long as you're committed to your duties and don't hang out with the girls all day like some of them do. Mind you, you have a lot to learn, but you're still good enough .I say you've got something to do. I'll try to get you a pound a week when the time comes."

Philip wondered to himself how long he would have to wait before he could get his £1 a week wages.Have to wait two years? Philip was surprised to see the change in his uncle's countenance.When I saw my uncle last time, he was still very strong, with a straight waist, a clean shaved beard, and a round, worldly face.However, his body collapsed inexplicably, his skin was scorched yellow, his eyes were swollen, his body was bent, and he looked old.During this illness he grew a beard and walked slowly. "I'm not very well today," said the uncle, when Philip had just returned to the Vicarage and sat with him in the dining-room. "The heat upsets me and makes me uncomfortable."

While Philip asked some questions about the parish, he gazed at his uncle, wondering how long he would live.The summer heat is enough to kill him.Philip noticed that his hands were bony and trembling.It was at stake for Philip.If his uncle died in the summer, he could go back to St. Luke's as soon as the winter term started.He was thrilled at the thought of never having to go back to Lane's.During the meal, the pastor uncle sat on a chair with his back arched, and the housekeeper who came to take care of his life after beating his wife asked: "Sir, will Mr. Philip cut the meat?"

Out of unwillingness to reveal his weakness, the old man wanted to cut the meat himself, but when he heard the butler's suggestion, he couldn't help being overjoyed, so he gave up. "You have a very good appetite," said Philip. "Oh, that's true. I've always been able to eat. But I'm much thinner than when you were here last. A little thinner is fine. I've never liked being fat. Dr. Wigram thinks my thinness is a problem." A great thing to ask for." After the meal, the butler brought medicine to the pastor. "Bring the prescription to Master Philip," ordered the vicar. "He's a doctor too. I hope he thinks it's a good prescription. I told Dr. Wigram that you're studying to be a doctor now and he should cut your bills. The bills I have to pay are horrendous." He's been coming to see me every day for two months now, and he charges five shillings for each visit. That's a lot, isn't it? Now he's coming twice a week. I'm going to save him from calling again. He is here, and I will send for him if necessary."

He watched Philip eagerly at the doctor's prescription.The prescriptions were full of narcotics, two drugs in total, the priest explained, one of which should only be taken when the neuritis became unbearable. "I take my medicines very carefully," he said. "I don't want to get into the opium habit." He didn't say anything about his nephew at all.Philip thought that his uncle was on guard for fear that he would ask him for money, and he would be the first to start talking about all kinds of bills he had to pay.He had already spent so much on doctors and more on pharmacies.Besides, during his illness a fire had to be lit in the bedroom every day.Now every Sunday, he goes to church in the carriage morning and evening.Philip was very angry, and wanted to tell his uncle that he need not worry, and that his nephew had no intention of borrowing money from him, but he refrained from speaking.It seemed to Philip that all the pleasures of life were lost in the old man, except his appetite for money and his appetite for money.It's disgusting to be old.

In the afternoon, Dr. Wigram came.After his illness Philip accompanied him to the garden gate. "How do you think he is?" asked Philip. Dr. Wigram cared less about being right than wrong, but about offending, and he never risked a definite opinion if he could.He had practiced at Blackstable for thirty-five years, and had earned a reputation as a reliable man, and many patients thought it was not cleverness that mattered as a doctor, but reliability.There's a new doctor in Blackstable--who, though he's been here for ten years, is still regarded as a job-robber--very bright, he's said, but seldom seen by respectable people. Seeing a doctor, because no one really understands his condition.

"Oh, he's turned out better than expected," Wigram said in response to Philip's query. "Is there anything serious about him?" "Well, Philip, your uncle is not young," said the doctor, with a cautious smile which seemed to suggest that the Vicar of Blackstable was not an old man after all. . "He seems to think his heart is not very good." "I'm not very satisfied with his heart," the doctor went on to conjecture. "I think he should be careful. Be careful." One question that rolled on Philip's tongue without asking was: How long will his uncle live?He was afraid that if he asked, Wigram would be shocked.When encountering such problems, you must follow the etiquette of life and speak with restraint.But while Philip was asking another question, it occurred to him that the doctor must have been too used to the anxiety of a sick relative to be surprised.He must have seen their hearts through their expressions of sincere pity.Philip smiled faintly at his hypocrisy, then lowered his eyelids, and asked Dr. Wigram:

"I suppose he won't be in danger anytime soon?" This kind of question is the most taboo of doctors.If it is said that the patient can only live for another month at most, his family will be busy with funeral arrangements immediately, but if the patient is still alive by then, his family will vent their displeasure to the nurses, Complaining exposes them to unnecessary mental torture prematurely.On the other hand, if the patient may live another year, but he dies in the underworld within a week, the family members of the deceased will say that you are a scumbag who does not understand medicine.They thought that if they had known that the patient would die so soon, they could have given him more warmth before he died.Dr. Wigram signaled with a sign that Philip would not be pestered any longer.

"As long as he maintains the status quo, I don't think he's in any serious danger," he finally ventured. "On the other hand, though, let's not forget that he's not young after all, well, the machine is wearing out. If he gets through the summer, I don't see why he shouldn't live very comfortably to Winter; and then, if winter doesn't give him much trouble, well, I don't think anything will happen to him." Philip turned back into the dining-room, where his uncle was still sitting.The chaplain looked queer in his cap and a rectangular crocheted shawl wrapped around his shoulders.He kept his eyes fixed on the dining-room door, and when Philip came in his eyes rested on Philip's face.Philip found that his uncle had been waiting anxiously for him. "Well, what did he say about my situation?" Philip suddenly realized that his uncle was very afraid of death.Philip felt a little ashamed, and consciously or unconsciously looked away.He was often embarrassed by human cowardice. "He said he thought you were much better now," replied Philip. His uncle's eyes suddenly shone with excitement. "I'm in a very strong physique," said the chaplain. "And what else did he say?" he asked suspiciously. Philip smiled brightly, and went on: "He said there's no reason why you shouldn't live to be a hundred years old, as long as you're careful." "I don't know if I'll live to be a hundred, but I don't believe I won't live to be eighty. My mother lived to be eighty-four before she died." Beside Mr. Carey's seat was a little table, on which lay a Bible and a thick volume of the Anglican Prayer Book, the contents of which he had been in the habit of reciting to the whole family for many years.At this moment, he stretched out his trembling hand and picked up the Bible. "The founders of Christianity lived a long life, didn't they?" the pastor said with a treacherous smile.Philip heard a tone of timid entreaty in his laughter. The old man clings to the world tightly.It is true that he was absolutely devoted to the teachings of his religion, and to the immortality of the soul.He felt that just because of the position he was in, he had been cultivating himself and doing good deeds enough to make his soul go to heaven after his death!During those long years of missionary work, he must have brought religious comfort to many dying people!Perhaps, too, he was like the doctor who gets no benefit from what he prescribes for himself.Philip was shocked and bewildered by his uncle's obstinate attachment to the world.What kind of unspeakable fear lay in the depths of the old man's soul, he could not understand.He wished he could go deep into his uncle's soul, so that the fear of the unknown world he suspected would be exposed naked before his eyes. Time flies like water, and the half-month holiday has passed in a flash.Philip was back in London.During those sweaty August months, he stayed behind a screen in the clothing department, in his shirt, drawing and drawing.The rest of the clerks are all away on vacation.In the evening Philip usually went to listen to the band in Hyde Park.Gradually he got used to his work, so that it was not as tiring as it had been at first.His mind, recovering from its long period of lethargy, sought refreshing activity.He was looking forward to his uncle's death with all his heart, and kept having the same dream: one morning, a telegram reporting the pastor's sudden death came, and he was completely free from then on!But when he opened his eyelids, it turned out to be a dream, and his heart was suddenly filled with worry and anger, which was not a good taste.Since the old man's death could happen at any moment, Philip absorbed himself in making elaborate arrangements for his future.In this way, he quickly passed the year.This year is the stage he must go through before he can qualify, and he is still focused on his planned trip to Spain.He reads books about the country, which he borrows from the free public library.From various pictures, he knows exactly what every city in Spain looks like.He seemed to see himself standing on the bridge over the Guadalquivir in Córdoba, walking through the winding streets of Toldo; Ko there asked for the mystery of his life that he felt attracted to this enigmatic painter.Athelny took into account his feelings, and on Sunday afternoons the two of them charted out detailed itineraries together, so that Philip would not miss a place worth visiting.Philip also began teaching himself Spanish to combat his impatience.Every evening, he sat in the deserted living room of the Harrington Street dormitory building, spent an hour doing Spanish exercises, and with the help of the English translation at hand, he racked his brains to think about the meaning of "Don Quixote". A punch line.Athelny gave him lessons once a week, and Philip learned a few words to use when he was traveling.Madame Athelny laughed at them. "Look at you two learning Spanish!" she said. "Can't you find something useful to do?" But Sally sometimes stood by, listening gravely to her father and Philip talking in a language she could not understand.Sally was growing up, and this Christmas she was going to have her hair up.She thought her father the greatest man the world had ever seen, and always expressed her opinion of Philip by quoting her father's praise of him. "Daddy thinks highly of your Uncle Philip," she said to her siblings. The eldest son, Thorpe, was old enough to be a sailor on the Arethus, and Athelny bragged about his son returning from vacation in sailor's uniform in front of his family.When Sally turns seventeen, she will apprentice to a tailor.Athelny was giving a speech again about the little birds whose wings had stiffened and which were fluttering away from the nest built by their parents.With tears in his eyes, he told them that if they still wanted to come back, the nest would still be in place, and that they would have a light meal at any time, and that Ye Yi would rest on the temporary bunk, and that a father's heart would always be open to him. Opening up to the distress of his children. "Athelny! You are talking nonsense again," said his wife reproachfully. "As long as the children behave honestly, I don't believe that they will encounter any troubles. As long as you do things reliably and are not afraid of hardship, your job will never be smashed. This is my opinion. I can also tell you Say, I wouldn't be sorry if I never saw them earning their own living again." Mrs. Athelny was beginning to look old from the birth of her children, her heavy housework, and constant cares.Several times, at dusk, her back ached so badly that she had to sit and rest.Her idea of ​​happiness was to be able to hire a girl to do some rough work so that she wouldn't have to get up before seven every morning.Athelny waved his fair, fair hand and said: "Oh, my Betty, you and I have done a great service to this country. We have raised nine strong children. Boys will serve His Majesty. Girls will cook and sew, At that time, it will be their turn to give birth to white and fat cubs." He turned his face and faced Sally, and in order to comfort her, he added in a calm but exaggerated tone that was in contrast to the one just now. One sentence: "They can also serve those who just stand still and just wait." Recently, Athelny, while fanatically following various contradictory doctrines, has also turned to socialist theory.At this moment, he said: "Betty, in a socialist country, you and I both get a good pension." "Oh, stop praising your socialists in front of me, I don't have the patience," cried Madame Athelny. "My motto in life is: leave me alone! I don't like being disturbed by others. Although I am in adversity, I will not be discouraged. Everyone is for himself, and the late suffers!" "Do you describe our life as adversity?" said Athelny. "That's not the case at all! We've had our lives, we've had our share of hardships, we've had struggles, we've always been poor, but this life has meaning, and ah, when I see the children standing around, I must Say, this life is worth living a hundred times!" "You've blown away again, Athelny!" she said, looking at Athelny with a look that was not resentment but steady reproach. "You're comfortable and happy with these babies, but I'm suffering from an October pregnancy and I have to carry them. I don't mean I don't like them, they're all here now, but if I can come back I'd rather have been alone all my life if I'd lived all over again. Well, if I were all alone, I might be running a shop by myself now, with four or five hundred pounds in the bank, and a girl to do it for me. Do some menial work. Well, anyway, I don't want to think about the time I've lived." Life, Philip thought to himself, was nothing but endless work, neither beautiful nor ugly, but acceptance of it as the changing of the seasons for the uncountable millions of human beings.Nothing in the world seemed to make sense, and he couldn't help but become agitated.He was unwilling to convince himself that life was meaningless, and everything he saw, all his thoughts strengthened his conviction.Although he was indignant, it was a joyful indignation.Life is boring, but it's not that scary.So, he faced life with a strange power!