Chapter 7 Chapter 2 Giant Baby

The giant boy was ugly--the priest insisted. "He has been ugly—everything extreme must be ugly." In this case, the vicar's views took him far from fair judgment.Even in this pristine remoteness the child was photographed a good deal, and all the photographs were physical evidence against the priest's opinion that the young monster was at first almost handsome, with curly hair hanging down to his forehead, and Especially love to laugh.Usually, the diminutive Caddles always stood behind the children with a smile, making him feel even smaller by comparison. After the second year, the child's prettiness becomes less noticeable and arguable.He began to grow, as his unfortunate grandfather would no doubt have said, "twitched." The ruddy color faded, and though he was getting bigger, he was always a little thin.He is extremely weak.His eyes and something about his face became more slender, "interesting," as they say.After one cut, his hair began to tangle. "This is a manifestation of his natural tendency," the parish doctor noticed all this, but how much was he right? Moreover, the reason why the child failed to achieve the ideal level of health was related to Mrs. Wang Deshu who came here out of justice. Philanthropic ideas, how much it mattered that he lived entirely in a whitewashed barn, were also questions.

His photos preserve his appearance from the age of three to six, and you can see that he has gradually grown into a round-eyed, brown-haired little guy with a slightly retracted nose, friendly eyes, and his lips are always With a smile, all those juvenile photos of giant children are like this.In summer, he wears loose clothes. They are sewn together with strong linen with stripes and thick needles; with bare feet.In one photo, he is grinning and holding a bitten melon. The photos in winter are less and less interesting.He wore big wooden shoes—beech, no doubt, with pockets for socks, and his jacket and trousers were obviously made of old patterned carpet.Inside, it was thick flannel like a wrapping cloth, and five or six yards of flannel tied around the neck like a scarf.What is worn on the head may be another bag.He sometimes smiles, and sometimes looks at the camera with a hint of depression.Even at the age of five those odd lines above his soft brown eyes gave his face a character.

The Marshal always said that from the very beginning, he was a terrible nuisance in the village.He was playful, curious, and sociable, which was normal; however, he also had a craving—sad to say—for more food. Although Mrs. Greenfield described Mrs. Wondersaw's rations as "extremely generous", he displayed the "criminal appetite" that the doctor detected immediately.It captures Mrs. Wondersaw's experience of the lower classes all too well--in spite of the provision of food far beyond the greatest needs of even a grown man, he is caught stealing.Whatever he stole, he ate it with unsightly greed.His big hands would reach across the orchard wall, he'd salivate over the loaves of the baker's cart, the cheese would go missing from the attic of Marlow's shop, and not even the hog trough was safe.Some farmer walks through his turnip-field and finds his big footprints and evidence of his deep hunger--a tree here and a tree there, the pits heeded away with childish cunning.He eats turnips like one eats turnips.If no one was watching, he would stand under the apple tree and eat the apples, just as a child eats blackberries in the bushes.In a way, however, this insufficiency of food was of great benefit to the peace of Venus Abrams—for for many years he ate almost all of the food given to him.

There was no disputing that the child was a liability and out of place. "He's always on the move," the pastor kept saying, he couldn't go to school, he couldn't go to church because of obvious space constraints.In order to meet the "most stupid and destructive law" - this is the pastor's words - referring to the "Primary Education Act" of 0 years, he once figured out some way to make him sit on the sweating table during class. Listen outside the window.But when he was present, the discipline of the other children could not be maintained.They were always looking up at him, and every time he spoke there was a roar of laughter.His voice is so strange!People just don't want him to come again.

People also insisted that he come to church, because his big size did not help much in devotional devotion.They probably didn't have much trouble in that, though; there was good reason to infer that somewhere in that large body there were cells of religious feeling.Maybe it was music that attracted him.He used to come to church on Sunday mornings, and when the congregation were in, he picked his way softly between the tombs, and sat by the porch till the service was over, listening as one would outside a beehive. At first he was obviously not decent, and the people inside always heard his pattering footsteps around their place of worship, or found his face looking in the stained glass, half curious, half jealous, Sometimes, when some simple hymn struck him unconsciously, he would howl in great mournfulness, trying to keep time.Thus little Slope, who was organist, warden, beadle, sexton, and bell-ringer at church on Sundays, and postman and chimney-sweep the rest of the day, would come out swiftly and courageously, some sadly told him to leave.I'm glad he said Slope felt it—at least when he was more considerate, and he told me that it was like going for a walk and driving the dog home.

However, the intellectual and moral training that little Caddles received, although fragmentary, was definite.From the very beginning, the priest, the mother, and the whole world had told him that his great power was not to be used.It was a misfortune, and he had to deal with it.He had to listen to other people, do as they were told, and be careful not to break anything, not to hurt anything.In particular, don't step on things, don't push and bump, and don't jump around.He should salute the gentlemen and thank them for feeding and clothing him with their property.He learned all this obediently, because of his malleable nature and habits, it was only by food that he accidentally grew to such a large size.

For Mrs. Wang Deshu, in these early days, he showed a deep awe.She found it best to talk to him when she was wearing a short skirt, holding a whip, speaking slowly and wildly while waving the whip.But sometimes the priest plays the role of mentor—little middle-aged David, panting and rebuking a childish Goliath, blaming and blaming, and giving arbitrary orders.This monster has grown so big now, no one would have thought that he is actually just a seven-year-old child, who wants to be noticed, cared for and loved like a child, and also has the child's dependence, willfulness, dullness and discomfort.

【① Goliath: A legendary giant who was beaten to death by David with a rope tied to a stone. 】 On some sunny mornings the vicar went down the village road to meet an inexplicably eighteen-foot hunk who seemed to the vicar as grotesque and unpleasant as some new heresy.He rattled along, neck stretched forward, searching, always searching for two basic childhood needs—something to eat and something to play with. There will be a sneaky respect in his eyes, and he wants to raise his hand to touch the tangled curls on his forehead. Within limits, the clergyman still had a little imagination--one can always have a little imagination, anyway--and with little Caddles it was directed toward imagining his gigantic Develop in the direction of how much damage the muscles can cause to others.For example, a sudden madness—!For another example, it was just a moment of presumptuousness——!In any case, the truly brave are not those who do not feel afraid, but those who can overcome it.Each time, the pastor always suppressed his imagination.He always greeted little Caddles with a firm and resolute voice in a thick, clear preacher's baritone.

"Is he a good boy, Albert Edward?" And the little giant would scramble against the base of the wall, blushing, and always answering, "Yes, sir, trying to do it." "Remember, all right," said the priest, walking on, breathing a little quicker at best.Out of the emphasis on his manliness, he made a rule that no matter how frightened he was, once he passed the danger, he would never look back at him again. From time to time the priest also gave little Caddles private lessons.He never taught the monster to read and write—it was not necessary, but taught him the important content of the catechism—such as the duty to his neighbor; for example, as long as he dared to disobey the pastor and Mrs. Wang Deshu, the god would be very strict punish him.These lessons were held in the chaplain's courtyard, and passers-by could hear the wayward, childish voice chanting the fundamentals of the State Church.

"Love and honor the king and his subjects. Be obedient to all my officers, teachers, and especially priests and masters. Be humble and respectful to those who are higher than yourself. It is now evident that this growing giant rides Immediately, he was as tall as a camel, and he was allowed to ride on the road, not only near the bushes (where he could see his stupid smile through the wall, which made the lady very angry ), and nowhere. He never fully complied with the prohibition, because the road was so much fun to him. So the road changed from a constant pastime to a stolen pleasure. Finally, He was confined to old pastures and highlands.

I don't know what he would have done without those heights.There is a vast space in which he can wander for miles, and he wanders in this space.He snapped branches from trees and made bouquets of crazy size until they were banned; he picked up sheep and wandered them in neat rows, and they immediately scattered in all directions (he was always very happy about this). Laughing happily), until people banned him; he dug up the turf and dug some big dongs aimlessly, until people banned him. He roamed over the Highlands as far as Rexton's Hill, but no farther.Because that was a crop field, and because he was stealing their root crops, and because they had a cowardly interest in his size and neatness, they always set out barking dogs at him.They frightened him, and whipped him with their cart lashes.He also heard that they sometimes beat him with short rifles.In the other direction, he was within sight of Hickribro.From Thursley Inclined Wood he could see the railway from London to Dover via Chatham, but plowed land and a settlement which held him in doubt prevented him from going any further. After a while, a wooden sign appeared—a big wooden sign with blue and red letters on it, blocking him from all directions.The wooden sign reads "No Passing".He couldn't understand it, but soon he understood.He was often seen by train passengers in those days, sitting with his chin on his knees on the high ground close to the lime quarry at Thursley (where he was later assigned to work), and the train seemed to arouse him. There was a vague sense of friendliness, to which he sometimes waved a giant hand, and sometimes gave a broken and rude cheer. "really big"!Said the traveler looking at him. "A 'god-food' child. It's said, sir, that he can't take care of himself at all—actually, he's only a little more than a narcissist, and a great local burden." "I heard that the parents were quite poor." "Living entirely on the charity of the local gentlemen." Everyone will look at this huge figure squatting in the distance for a while with a very thoughtful look. "It'd be nice to ban that kind of thing," suggested some broad-minded person. "It'd be nice to tax them a thousand pounds, eh?" Usually, there is someone nearby who is smart enough to tell the philosopher in a sincere tone: "Well, sir, you have quite a point." He also had his bad days. For example, the chaos in Xiaohe is. He made little boats out of whole newspapers, which he had learned as a child when he saw the Spender boys make it.When ready, put them in the water and let them go down the river—like big paper hats turned up.When they disappear under the bridge that marks the private land around the Abley house, he'll yell and go round and run across Tomat's new ground--Jesus, how scared are Tomart's pigs Running around, turning good fat into lean lean meat! —to get his boat back on the shallows.These boats of his sailed right by the edge of the meadow, right in front of Abley Hall, right under Lady Wondershaw's nose!A mess of newspapers!Hurrah! Not being punished, he got a little more courageous, and he started to do water conservancy projects for children. He took the door of a shed as a shovel, and dug a large port for his paper fleet.It happened that no one saw it at the time, so he designed a clever canal, which made the water pour into Mrs. Wang Deshu's ice cellar.Finally, he built a dam, and with only a few doors of slabs, cut off the river—he must have been as dry as a bulldozer—and the river surged through the bushes and swept away Miss Spinks' easel and The most promising watercolor she had ever begun, or, at least, washed away her easel, and wet her dress up to her knees, and sent her in a frenzy to flee into the house; , flooded over the vegetable garden, flowed through the green gate to the road, passed through Short's ditch, and returned to the river. At this time, the priest was talking with the blacksmith.It was strange to see some stranded fish jumping out of the puddles left by the overflowing water sadly, and to see piles of green aquatic plants on the river bed. Ten minutes ago, there was more than eight feet of cool water here. After this little Caddles, terrified by the consequences of his actions, fled from the house, and hid two nights and two nights, returning only famished, and enduring severe reproaches with stoic composure.The scolding was so severe that it was the only thing worthy of his stature that he had ever gotten out of this happy village in his life. After this, Mrs. Wang Deshu followed her punishment of cursing and fasting with another decree.She spoke first to the head servant, who was startled by the decree.He was clearing the breakfast table, and the lady was looking out of the high window of the big balcony where the fawn had come to eat. "Jobett," she said in the most assertive tone—"Jobett, that thing has to work and earn its own food." She made it clear that not only Jobert (which was easy) but everyone in the village—including little Caddles—understood that in this matter, as in all As above, she meant what she said. "Let him work," said Mrs. Wang Deshu. "That's my advice to Master Caddles." "This exhortation, I think, is for all mankind," said the minister, "a simple duty, a moderate cycle, sowing, reaping—" "Exactly," said Mrs. Wang Deshu. "That's what I've always said. The devil always finds something bad for idlers. At least for the working class. That's what we've always done with maids. We What are you going to make him do?" There is a little difficulty here.They thought of many things. They let him deliver telegrams or urgent letters instead of messengers on horseback;He seemed to enjoy working, seeing it as a kind of play.One day, Mrs. Wang Deshu's steward, Kinkel, saw him moving a rockery for his wife. He had an idea and thought of asking him to work in his wife's Lime Mine in the Slope Forest, which is next to Xikriboluo.The idea took off, and for a moment, they seemed to have solved his problem. He worked in the lime mines, at first with a child's playful zeal, and then habit took over—dig, load, haul railed carts, push full carts to the siding. Go up, and use the winch to pull the empty car up the mountain-in the end, he single-handedly managed the entire mine. I have heard that Kinkel unequivocally used the child for Mrs. Wondershaw's affairs, but he had nothing to spend on him except food.But just like that, it never stopped her from accusing "that thing" of being a big parasite that lived on her mercy. At that time, he always wore a kind of sackcloth with large pockets, patchwork leather trousers, and wooden shoes with shoes.Sometimes there is a strange thing buckled on his head. It turned out to be an old chair made of beehive straw, but he is usually bald.He turns vigorously and deliberately around the mine.The chaplain, on his routine rounds, came to him almost at noon and found him with his back turned toward the world, shamelessly swallowing his profuse amount of food. His meals are delivered daily.All sorts of skinned grain mixed together in a cart--a railed cart like the one he was always filling with limestone.He took the grain on the cart and roasted it in an old lime kiln.Sometimes he mixes a bag of sugar in it.Sometimes he sits there licking a piece of salt that we use for the cows, or eating a big piece of date palm with sand and stones in it, the kind we see people pushing in carts in London .To drink, he walked to the creek beyond the charred experimental feedlot at Hickriboro and put his face on the water to drink.It is precisely because of him drinking water like this that Shenliang finally spreads.First the weeds grew into forests along the river, then giant frogs, giant trout, and stranded carp, and finally the whole valley grew to frighteningly large vegetation. About a year later, in the field in front of the blacksmith's house, a strange maggot-like monster grew so large that it became such a terrible click beetle and scarab--children called them motorcycle scarabs--and they made Mrs. Wang Deshu I rushed to a foreign country. Soon, the effect of the divine food on him entered a new stage.He disregarded the simple sermons of the priest—the purpose of which was to prune in the most complete and final way the ordinary natural life fit for a giant farmer.He starts asking questions, he starts paying attention to things, he starts thinking.As he passed from childhood into youth, it became more and more evident that his mind had a development of its own--completely outside the priest's control.The priest tried not to look at this distressing phenomenon, but—he could still feel the young giant's thoughts all around him.Because of his wide field of vision, he often sees many things, and he must have seen many scenes of human life completely by accident; Tong Jin also began to understand that despite his huge, clumsy body, he was also a human being; he must have become more and more It became clearer how much must have been invisible to him because of his pathetic traits.That lovely hum of a school, that religion with its pomp and glamour, and its music so sweet, that joyful chorus in the tavern, those candles or fires he saw out of the dark A warm room lit by a fire, or a cricket-field which he could not quite comprehend, the violent movement and excited cries it aroused all around--all these must have strongly attracted his heart longing for companionship.Maybe it was the relationship when he reached puberty. He was very interested in the various behaviors of lovers, in mutual love, in pairs, in that kind of intimacy that is so important in life. One Sunday, just at the time when the stars, the bats, and the passion of country life were out, a young couple happened to be "kissing each other" in Love Lane, where the thick hedges stretched down to the Upper District.They were making this little display of affection, as safe as any lover could be under the warm stillness of the night sky.The only intrusion they thought imaginable was along the lane, where it was visible; and the twelve-foot hedge towards the quiet elevation seemed to them an infallible security. But suddenly—unbelievably—they were lifted, separated, and they found themselves lifted by a thumb and a forefinger thrust into an armpit, and found the bewildered brown eyes of little Caddles watching carefully. They blushed.They were, of course, overwhelmed by the emotions the situation created. "Why do you do such a thing?" asked little Caddles. I have heard that this embarrassment lasted until the lover, remembering his manhood, shouted violently, threatened, and said something blasphemous about men in similar circumstances, and told Little Caddles to put them away. Come down, or something, and then little Caddles, remembering his politeness, did put them down politely and carefully, and so close that they could continue their embrace, Then he looked down at them hesitantly for a while before disappearing under the starlight. "But I thought it was silly," the beau told me afterwards, "that we could hardly see each other—and got caught just like that. "We're kissing—you know. "It's strange that she says it's all my fault," said the lover. "She yelled angrily for a while, and stopped talking to me on the way home. The Giants have started an investigation, there is no doubt about it.His heart, very obviously, was asking questions.He had asked a few people so far.Like the situation above, but they only annoyed him more.His mother was said to have been questioned on occasion. He always went to the yard behind his mother's hut, carefully checked that there were no hens and chicks on the ground, and then sat down slowly with his back against the barn.All at once the chickens were swarming up to pick at the lime plaster in the needle holes all over his clothes, and they all liked him; and if it was windy and rainy, Mrs. Caddles' kitten would bend over. body, rushes in, climbs up the kitchen grate, turns, comes out, climbs up his lap and onto him, up onto his shoulders, stays for a while, then—shh!drive it away.It starts all over again and plays like this.Xiao B can trust him.Sometimes, out of joy, the kitten stretched its paws to his face, but he never dared to touch the cat, because his hands were not light or heavy, and the kitten was so fragile; besides, he liked to tell it to scratch.After a while, he was going to ask his mother silly questions. "Mother," he asked, "if it's good to work, why doesn't everyone do it?" His mother would look up at him and reply, "It's just good for people like us." He would ponder for a moment and then ask, "Why?" The question was left unanswered. "Mom, why do you work? Why do I have to dig stones every day, and you have to wash clothes every day, but Mrs. Wang Deshu is always driving around in a carriage. Mom, she also travels to those beautiful foreign countries. Why can't we all go, mother?" "She's a lady," said Mrs. Caddles. "Oh," thought little Caddles deeply. "If we don't have gentlemen and ladies to do for us," said Mrs. Caddles, "how shall we poor people earn our living?" This has to be digested. "Mother," he asked again, "if there's no gentlemen or ladies at all, then everything belongs to people like us, and if that--" "God bless the nasty boy!" Mrs Caddle would say--since Mrs Skinner's death, with the help of a good memory, she had become a talkative and energetic creature. "You haven't been quiet for a while since your poor grandma died. Stop asking nonsense like this. If I really answer your question, your father will have to go to someone's house to find supper— — not to mention the pile of laundry is endless." "Well, Mother," he would say after looking at her oddly for a moment, "I didn't mean to worry you." So, he will continue to think about his problem. Four years later, when the pastor saw him for the last time, he was still thinking.Pastors today are no longer mature, but overripe.Just imagine, this old gentleman looks obviously older, his hands trembled a little bit, and his confidence wavered a little bit, but, considering the trouble the god food caused him and his village, his eyes Still bright and happy.There are times when he is terrified.Sometimes he has been disturbed, but he can tell that he is still alive, isn't he still him?Fifteen long years--a good sample of eternity--he had grown accustomed to such troubles. "It's a riot, I admit," he would always say, "that things have changed, in many ways. Where once a child could mow weeds, now a man has to be a man with an ax and a crowbar—at least near In some parts of the jungle this valley does seem a little strange to us old-school folks, where the unirrigated river bed now grows wheat--as it did this year--twenty-five feet high. Twenty years ago folks here brought corn home in wagons with old-fashioned scythes--a pure and proper joy. A little drunk and some innocent frolic. Poor Mrs. Wondersaw-- —She doesn't like these innovations. Very conservative, poor lady! She has something of the eighteenth century, I've always said. That's how she talks. Straightforward and energetic. "She died pretty poorly. Those big weeds came into her garden. She wasn't a garden woman, but she liked to keep her garden organized--things grew where they were--under control. Stuff was weirdly long and disturbed her thoughts. She didn't like the constant intrusion of the young monster—at least she began to think he was staring at her from the top of the wall. She didn't like him, he was so tall Almost the same as her house. It was a thrill and a shock to her sense of proportion. Poor lady! I had hoped she would outlive me. It was the big beetles we had here one year. They came from that big The larvae emerged—the larvae were as big as mice, and disgusting—in the meadows of the valley. "And the ants, no doubt, had an effect on her too. "Since everything has been turned upside down, there's no peace and peace anywhere. She said she thought she'd be better off going to Monte Carlo. And she left. "I heard she gambled a lot. Died in a hotel there. Very sad end. Uprooted. Not--not what we expected. Natural leader of our English people. Fish out of water. So. "But, as it turned out," the vicar babbled, "it didn't turn out to be a big deal. Of course it was a nuisance. The kids don't run around like they used to, for fear of ants or something. Maybe that's all right. Often There's this talk,--as if that thing would transform everything. But there's something resisting the new power. Of course I don't know. I'm not your modern philosopher--everything to Atoms to explain. Evolution. This kind of nonsense. I mean the kind of saying that theology is all-encompassing. The problem is reason-not understanding. Mature wisdom. Human nature. Immutability. Whatever you want to call it It all works." In this way, finally came the last time. The chaplain had no premonition of what was about to happen.He walked across Farthing Heights, as he had been doing for twenty years, and came to the place where he used to see little Caddles.He was panting a little as he climbed the limestone mines—he had long since lost the muscular Christian stride of his early days—but little Caddles was not at work.Later, when he came around the giant fern bushes that began to cover the woods on the slope, he suddenly saw the figure of the big monster sitting on the hill-looking at the world and thinking.Caddles huddled his knees, rested his chin on his hands, and tilted his head slightly.He was sitting with his back to the priest, so he couldn't see the priest's confused eyes.He must be deep in thought—at least he's sitting still. He never looked back.He hadn't known that the priest who had so much influence on his life had looked at him for the last time, for a long time—he didn't even know the priest was there. (Isn't that what so many farewells look like?) It occurred to the pastor that there was no one in the world who could guess at all what was going on in the mind of the giant when he thought he should leave his work and rest for a while.But he was too lazy to explore this topic that day, and he returned to the old track of his own thinking from this thought. "Invariance," he said to himself, walking slowly down the path home.The path no longer cut straight across the grass as it had in the past, but weaved around to avoid the huge new growth of grass. "No! Nothing changes. Size doesn't matter. The mere circulation, the shared mission—" That night, painlessly and unnoticed, he himself took the common path—out of the mystery of change that he had denied all his life. He was buried in the churchyard of Venus Abley, near the largest yew tree, with his epitaph engraved on an unpretentious headstone—the end, the only constant, is eternity—that The stele was almost hidden from view by a large tasseled grass, too thick for a scythe and a sheep, which grew like fog from the moist valley swamp where the food of the gods had acted, It covered the whole village.