Chapter 6 little john four

"Slaves! 1 What a loathsome boredom summer is!" sighed one of the three stoves that stood wearily together in the storehouse of the old house--"For many weeks I saw no living and no reasonable words can be heard. And the emptiness of this long interior! Terrible!" "My place is full of cobwebs," said the second, "and there won't be any in winter." "I am also full of dust. If that black man comes again, he will make me die of shame." A few lamps and fire hooks, which were wrapped in paper to prevent rust, were scattered on the ground, and they all declared their protest against such a flippant tone.

But the talk was suddenly silenced, for the hanging windows had been drawn, and a ray of light came rushing in to the darkest corners, and revealed the whole society in their dusty chaos. It was John, and he came, and disturbed their conversation.This warehouse often gave John a strong stimulus.Now, since the latest miracle, he has repeatedly fled there.Here he finds peace and solitude.There is also a window in that place, which is closed with a drawer, and one side of Gangfu can also be seen.It is a great pleasure to suddenly open the window and see the distant, bright scenery in front of the cemetery behind the warehouse full of secrets, up to the white, softly undulating hills.

Three weeks had passed since that Golden Sunday evening, and John had not seen his friend at all.The little key also went, and he lacked evidence that he was not dreaming.He is often afraid that everything is just a fantasy.Then he fell silent, his father thought gloomily, and John must have been ill since that night on the hill.But John is fascinated by Xuan'er. "Doesn't he love me more than I love him?" He wondered trivially as he stood by the dormer window looking out into the green and flowery garden, "why doesn't he come to me often, and already How long? If I could... But he may have many friends. Would he love them more than me? . . . I have no other friends—none. I only love him. Love it! Oh, love it!"

He saw how a flock of white doves flew down from the blue sky, which could have been the audible sound of beating wings hovering over the houses.It was as if a thought drove them, changing direction every moment, as if to become a row of booze in the sea of ​​summer light and summer air in which they floated. Suddenly they flew up to John's dormer window, and with all kinds of fluttering and fluttering, they stopped on the eaves, where they hurriedly rattled and walked to and fro.One of them had a small red feather on its wing.It plucked and plucked for a long time, and when it was in its mouth, it flew to John and gave it to him.

As soon as John took it, he felt that he was so light and fast, just like a pigeon.He stretched out his limbs, took off like a dove, and floated in the middle of them, in free air and clear daylight.There was nothing around them save the pure blue and the shining brilliance of the white dove's wings. They flew over the great garden in the woods, whose dense tree-tops undulated in the distance like the waves of a blue sea.John looked down and saw his father sitting by the open window of the house; Simon was sitting on the windowsill with his front paws fisted and basking in the sun for warmth.

"Did they see me?" he thought, but he dared not call. Presto ran around in the garden, covering the grass everywhere, sitting behind the walls, and holding on to the doors of the greenhouses, trying to find the little master. "Presto! Presto!" John cried.The puppy looked up, wagged its tail, and moaned in distress. "I'll be back, Presto! Just wait!" cried John, but he was too far away. They floated through the woods, and the crows flew hoarsely calling in the high branches with their nests.This is midsummer, the fragrance of the linden flowers in full bloom, like clouds rising from the green forest.In an empty nest in the top of a tall linden tree, sat Turner, with his crown on his brow a torus of bindweed, nodding to John.

"You're here? That's good," he said. "I'm off to fetch you. We can grow together—if you want." "I would have liked to," John said. He thanked the friendly pigeon for guiding him, and descended into the woods with Xuan'er. The place is cool and shady.The wren almost always whistles in this way, but with slight variations. "Poor bird," said Spinner, "before it was a bird of paradise. You can still recognize it from its peculiar yellow wings—but it changed and was cast out of paradise. There is a This sentence can give it back its original beautiful clothes, and make it go back to heaven. However, it has forgotten this sentence. Now it is trying every day, trying to find it again. Although there are one or two sentences similar to , but neither is correct.”

Countless flies swarmed like flying grains in the sunlight passing through the thick shade.If one listens carefully, one can hear their camping, like a big, monotonous ensemble, filling the whole forest, like the singing of the sun. Dense dark green berry moss covered the ground, and John had grown so small that he could see it was a new forest in a large forest area.How exquisite the stems are, and how dense the clusters are.It was not easy to get through, and the tai forest seemed very large. So they came to a bridge of ants.Hundreds of ants bustled about—a few with twigs, leaves, or grass stalks between their foreheads.There was so much confusion that John was almost dizzy.

After a long time, they met an ant who was willing to chat with them.All of them are busy with work.At last they came across an old ant, whose job it was to guard the tiny aphids, and thus the ants got their way.Because his herd is quiet, he has been mindful of himself and others, and has shown them his large nest.The nest is built at the root of a great tree, it is very wide, and contains hundreds of paths and rooms.The aphid shepherd explained and led the visitor here and there to the nursery where the immature larvae crawled out of their white swaddling clothes.John was surprised and ecstatic.

The old ant said that for the upcoming war, everyone was in great excitement.For another ant colony not far from here, it is necessary to use great force to attack, sweep the nest, plunder or kill the larvae; this is to do our best, and we must prepare for the most important work in advance. "Why the military?" John said. "I don't think it's beautiful." "No, no!" said the watchman, "this is a beautiful and praiseworthy military operation. Come to think of it, what we are going to capture are fighting ants; we go only to exterminate their race, which is a very good cause." .”

"Aren't you fighting ants?" "Of course not! What are you thinking? We are peaceful ants." "What does it mean?" "Don't you know this? I'll tell you. There was a time when, because all ants were always at war, there was no day when there was no great war. Then came a good wise ant, who saw that if The ants agreed with each other that there would be no more wars, which would save a lot of labor. When it said it, everyone thought it was special, and because of this reason, everyone began to bite it into small pieces. Later, there were other The ants, too, have the same meaning. These were also bitten into small pieces. But in the end, there were so many of them that the biting became too busy a job elsewhere. Since then they They called themselves peaceful ants, and they all believed that the first peaceful ant was good; if anyone argued, they tore it into small pieces. In this way, almost all ants became peaceful ants , the remnants of the first peaceful ant, are preserved with care and reverence. We have heads, real. We have destroyed and slaughtered twelve other tribes who thought they had real heads. They They call themselves peaceful ants, but they are naturally fighting ants, because the real head belongs to us, while peaceful ants only have one head. Now we are going to get rid of the thirteenth. This is indeed a good cause. " "Yes, yes," said John, "that's remarkable!" He was a little frightened at first, but when they had thanked the earnest shepherds and said goodbye, far away from the ant people, resting on a beautiful curved stalk in the shade of the fern, he I feel much quieter. "Ah!" John sighed, "that's a bloodthirsty, confused society!" Xuan'er smiled, raising and lowering the grass stalk he was sitting on. "Ah!" he said, "you don't have to blame them for being stupid. If people want to be wise, they have to go to the ants." So Spin directed John to all the wonders of the woods,—and they both flew to the birds in the treetops, and into the dense thickets, and down to the woodchuck's fine-art dwelling, and the hives in the hollows of old trees. At last they came to a place surrounded by trees.Honeysuckle vines grew in piles.The luxuriant branches spread everywhere on the shrubs, and the greenery is full of fragrant corollas.A noisy white-cheeked bird, chirping loudly, hopped and flapped its wings among the twigs. "Let's stay here for a while," John asked. "It's beautiful here." "Okay," Xuan'er said, "you also have to see something ridiculous." In the grass on the ground stood blue lilies of the valley.John sat near one of them, and began to talk about the bees and butterflies.These are Lily of the Valley's good friends, so the conversation is like a river. But what is that?A big shadow came over the grass, and something like a white cloud floated down over the lilies of the valley.John was barely able to save himself from being crushed--he flew to the spinner who sat among the blooming honeysuckle.Only then did he realize that the white cloud was a handkerchief—and, Peng! —on the towel, and on the poor lily-of-the-valley underneath, sat a fat lady. He had no time to spare it, for the noise of voices and the disturbance of branches filled the glade, and, besides, a great number of people came. "Then, we're going to laugh," Xuan'er said. And here they came, the human beings—the women with baskets and umbrellas in their hands, and the men with tall, stiff black hats on their heads.Almost all of them are black, pitch black.They are very special in the clear green woods, like a big and ugly blot on a beautiful picture. Shrubs were scattered and flowers trampled.Many white scarves were spread out, and the supple grass stalks and the patient berry moss sighed and carried the burden underneath, fearing that they would never recover from such a blow. The smoke of the cigars snaked over the honeysuckle bushes, driving away the soft scent of their flowers viciously.The loud sound frightened away the chirping of the joyous white-cheeked bird, which, chirping in terror and rage, fled to a nearby tree. A man stood up from the pile and settled himself on the hill.He has long, blond hair and a pale face.He said a few words, and they all opened their mouths wide, and sang, so loudly that the crows rattled from their nests to high places, and the curious hare, who had come from the hill Those who came over to have a look also ran away in surprise, and kept running for a quarter of an hour before they reached the sand hill safely. Xuan'er smiled, and used a fern leaf to resist the smoke of the cigar; John's eyes were filled with tears, but it was not because of the smoke. "Xuan'er," he said, "I want to go away, there is such a nuisance and noise." "No, we should stay. You have to laugh, there's a lot of fun to be had." The singing stopped, and the pale man rose to speak.He shouted loudly to make everyone understand, but what he said was too dear.He called men brothers and sisters, and spoke of the beauty of nature, of the miracles of creation, of the sun of God, of flowers and birds. "What's it called?" John asked. "How does he talk about it? Does he know you? Is he your friend?" Xuan'er shook the crowned head contemptuously. "He doesn't know me--the sun, the birds, the flowers, and so few. All he says is a lie." People listened reverently, and the fat lady sitting on the lily-of-the-valley cried several times and wiped her tears with the corner of her coat, because she had no handkerchief to use. The pale man said that God made the sun shine so merrily for their party.Xuan'er laughed at him, and threw an oak tree from among the dense leaves on his nose. "He wants another opinion," said he, "and my father must take care of them—what is he thinking of!" But the pale man was on fire because he wanted to guard against the oak tree that seemed to be falling from the sky.He spoke for a long time, and the longer he spoke, the louder his voice became.In the end, his face was blue and red, he clenched his fists, and shouted so loudly that the leaves trembled and the weeds swayed back and forth in fright.When he finally calmed down again, everyone started singing again. "Pooh!" said a white-headed bird, watching from a high tree, "this is a terrible nonsense! I'd like it better if the ant-herds came into the woods. Just listen for a while." ,Pooh!" Well, the bald-headed bird belongs to the director, and it also has subtle discrimination. After singing, everyone pulled all kinds of food from baskets, boxes and paper pockets.A lot of paper was spread out, and the buns and oranges were scattered.Also see bottle. So Xuan'er called his comrades together, and started attacking Yan Le's group. A daring frog jumped on the lap of an old lady, pressed close to the bun she was about to chew, and stopped there, as if marveling at its own adventure.The lady uttered a cry, and stared at her assailant in astonishment, but dared not touch it herself.This courageous example was followed.Green caterpillars climbed fearlessly on hats, handkerchiefs, and buns, spreading gloom and wonder everywhere, and great fat cross-spiders laid brilliant silks on ale-glasses, heads, and necks, and on their The attack is always followed by a shrill cry; countless flies rush straight into people's faces, and sacrifice their lives for the good stuff, falling headlong in the food and drink, because their bodies mess with things too. Can't enjoy it.At the end, there came piles of ants that could not be seen clearly, and attacked the enemy by hundreds everywhere, not letting anyone here dream.This caused confusion and panic!Men and women jumped up hurriedly from the berry moss and grass that had been pressed down for so long;--the poor little blue bell was also set free, by the success of the two ants on the fat lady's lap attack.Despair grew stronger.The people whirled and leaped, trying to evade their pursuers in a curious manner.The pale man resisted for a long time, and beat it angrily everywhere with a small black stick; but two brave ants, which can use any weapon, and a wasp, got into his black trousers, A stab in the calf rendered him incapable of fighting. The happy sun could not stay long, and hid his face behind a cloud.Heavy rains drenched the fighting parties.It seemed that because of the rain, a forest of large black fungus suddenly appeared on the ground.This is an open umbrella.Several women covered their heads with the tops, so they could clearly see the white shirts, legs in white socks and shoes without high heels.No, Xuan'er thinks it's so fun!He laughed so hard he had to hold on to the stem. The rain was falling harder and harder, and it was beginning to wrap the woods in a gray glowing web.Streams of water flowed down from umbrellas, tall hats, and black clothes that shone like water beetle carapaces, and shoes slapped and clattered on the soaked ground.The people surrendered and retreated silently in small groups.Just piles of papers, empty bottles and orange peels remain as tasteless remnants of their visit.The empty grassland in the woods became silent and quiet again, only the monotonous patter of rain could be heard immediately. "Well, John, we've seen humans too, why don't you laugh at them too?" "Hey, Xuan'er, is everyone like this?" "Ah! some are much worse, much worse. They are always mad and mischievous, and destroy everything that is beautiful and rich. They cut down trees, and build heavy four-corner houses in their place. Come. They human nature trampled the flowers, and killed every animal that came within their range for their pleasure. Together they occupied the city, and it was all filthy and black, and the air was foul, and everything was Dust and smoke are poisonous. They are so alienated from nature and their kind that when they return to nature, they behave in such a mad and miserable manner." "Oh, Xuan'er, Xuan'er!" "Why are you crying, John? You don't have to cry because you were born among men. I love you, and I have chosen you out of all others. I have taught you about birds and butterflies and The flower has observed. The moon knows you, and the good soft earth loves you as its best child. Why are you not happy that I am your friend?" "Ah, Xuan'er! I'm happy, I'm happy! But I still want to cry, for all the human beings!" "Why?—if it makes you sad, you don't have to be with them. You can live here, and follow me forever. We'll linger in the densest woods, in the lonely, clear sands On the hill, or in the reeds by the pool. I will take you everywhere, to the bottom of the water, among the water plants, to the palace of the goblin, to the residence of the imp. I want to float with you, In mines and forests, on far lands and seas. I will make spiders weave you a garment, and give you wings, as I have born. We will live on the scent of flowers, and by moonlight And dance with the goblins. As soon as autumn draws near, we migrate with summer, to a place where tall coconut trees grow, and colorful umbrellas hang from their peaks, and the deep blue sea shines in the sun, and I want Tell you fairy tales forever. Will you, John?" "Then can I never live in a human being?" "Suffer your endless sorrows, troubles, hardships, and sorrows among men. Day by day, you will make you torment, and sigh under the burden of life. They will use their roughness, to hurt or embarrass you Weak souls. They will bore and annoy you to death. Do you love humanity more than me?" "No, no! Xuan'er, I want to stay with you!" He can express to Xuan'er how much he loves him.He is willing to throw everything and all of this side of himself and the past.His little house, his father and Presto.Gladly but firmly he reiterated his wish. The rain had stopped, and under the gray clouds a beam of joyful, smiling sun shone through the woods, on the wet, glistening leaves, and on all the twigs glistening, and adorning the oak trees, Drops of water in the spider web.From the wetland among the bushes, a faint mist rises, carrying with it a thousand sweet and dreamy fragrances.The bald bird now flew to the top of the highest branch, and sang for the setting sun with short, intimate syllables—as if it were trying to see what kind of song would be suitable for this solemn evening silence and for the fall. drops of water are gentle companions. "Isn't that more beautiful than a human voice, John? Yes, the bald bird knew how to hit the right rhyme. Here is everything in harmony, a harmony so complete that you can never get it among humans." "What is harmony, Xuan'er?" "It's the same thing as happiness. Everything strives toward it. So do men. But they always look like children trying to catch butterflies. By their clumsy efforts they startle it away." "Will I find harmony with you?" "Yes, John!—then you should forget about the human race. It was a bad beginning to be born among the human beings, but you are still young—you must erase all previous human life from your memory; These will make you bewildered and bewildered, strife, scattered; then you will be like the little gold bugs of which I speak." "What happened to it?" "It saw the bright light, the old beetle had said; it thought it could do nothing better than fly thither at once. It flew in a straight line to a room, and fell into the hand There it suffered for three days; it sat in a cardboard box,--a thread was tied to its leg, and it was made to fly like this--and it broke free, and lost a wing and a leg, and at last—while it crawled helplessly about on the carpet, and tried in vain to reach the garden—was crushed by a heavy foot. All animals, John, who wandered about at night The wandering ones, like us, are the children of the sun. Though they have never seen their radiant father, they still forever arouse an unconscious memory of yearning for all that shines. Thousands of poor dark creatures , from this love for the sun long removed and 2, received a tragic death. An incomprehensible, irresistible impulse drew mankind to that destruction, to that which alerted them and which they did not know to the phantom of light." John looked up into Xuan'er's eyes as if wanting to ask a question.But those eyes were deep and mysterious, like the dark sky among the stars. "Do you miss God?" he finally asked timidly. "God?"—the deep eyes smiled gently. —“I know what you think when you speak, John. You think of that chair by the bed, and that long prayer you say every night before it—think of the church window.” the green velvet draperies you look at so long every Sunday morning--think of the patterned letters of your hymn-book--think of the bell-bag with its long handle3--think of the bad singing and fumigating What you signify by that title, John, is a ridiculous phantom—not a sun but a big kerosene lamp to which thousands and hundreds of flying insects cling helplessly. " "But what is Daguang called, Xuan'er? Who should I pray to?" "John, it is like a mould, asking me what I shall call the earth with which it turns. If there is an answer to your inquiry, then you will understand it, as the earthworm to the music of the stars. Prayer , I would like to teach you." Xuan'er and the little John, who was thinking deeply about his words in quiet astonishment, flew out of the woods, so high that along the edge of the hill, there was clearly a long golden line.As they flew farther away, the ever-changing and shadowy landscape of hills and hills flew before their eyes, and the line of light gradually widened.The green color of the sand hills has disappeared, and the reeds on the shore are dimmed, growing among them like special light blue plants.There is another row of hills, an elongated and narrow sand line, and thus the vast and majestic sea. ——The blue one is the wide water surface, reaching to the distant horizon, but under the sun, there is a narrow line glowing, flashing a bright red sway. A long, white fringe bordered the sea, like a weasel's fur bordered with blue velvet. On the horizon there is a soft, strange boundary between sky and water.It is like a miracle: straight and curved, sharp and shifting, distinct and elusive.This is like a long and dreamy sound of the piano, which seems to be lingering, but it also stops. And little Johann sat on the edge of the sand and watched--gazing in long, still silence--until it seemed time to die, as if the great golden gate of the universe had solemnly opened, and as if his little The soul, drifting straight to the infinite first light. Until the tears of the world welled up from his wide-open eyes, covering the beautiful sun, and turning the splendor of the sky and the earth back into the dim, quivering evening... "You must pray like this!" Shi Xuan'er said. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ 1. Saperment, slander, expresses disgust.It is probably only seen in fairy tales now, and is used by non-humans. 2. Heinzelm?nnchen, a short spirit.back to the article 3.klingelbeutel, used by churches and donation-raising utensils.back to the article