PART Ⅱ-2
Thursdaywasmarketday.Chapswithroundredfaceslikepumpkinsanddirtysmodhugebootscoveredwithdrycow-dung,carryinglonghazelswitches,usedtodrivetheirbrutesintothemarket-placeearlyinthem.Forhoursthere’dbeaterrifichullabaloo:dogsbarking,pigssquealing,chapsintradesmen’svanswhowaogetthroughthecrushcragtheirwhipsandcursing,andeveryonewhohadanythingtodowiththecattleshoutingandthrowingsticks.Thebignoisewasalwayswhentheybroughtabulltomarket.Evenatthatageitstruckmethatmostofthebullswereharmlesslaw-abidingbrutesthatonlywaogettotheirstallsinpeace,butabullwouldn’thavebeenregardedasabullifhalfthetownhadn’thadtoturnoutandchaseit.Sometimessometerrifiedbrute,generallyahalf-grownheifer,usedtobreaklooseandchargedownasidestreet,andthenanyoneeobeinthewaywouldstandinthemiddleoftheroadandswinghisarmsbackwardslikethesailsofawindmill,shouting,‘Woo!Woo!’Thisposedtohaveakindofhypnoticeffeananimalaainlyitdidfrightenthem.
Half-waythroughthemsomeofthefarmerswouldeintotheshopandrunsamplesofseedthroughtheirfingers.ActuallyFatherdidverylittlebusinesswiththefarmers,becausehehadnodeliveryvanandcouldn’taffivelos.Mostlyhedidaratherpettyclassofbusiness,poultryfoodandfodderforthetradesmen’shorsesandsoforth.OldBrewer,oftheMillFarm,whowasastingyoldbastardwithagrey-beard,usedtostandthereforhalfanhour,fingeringsamplesofchiaingthemdropintohispocketina-mindedmanner,afterwhich,ofcourse,hefinallyusedtomakeoffwithoutbuyinganything.Intheeveningsthepubswerefullofdrunkenmen.Inthosedaysbeercosttwopenceapint,anduhebeernowadaysithadsomegutsinit.AllthroughtheBoerWartherecruitingsergeaobeinthefour-alebaroftheGeeeveryThursdayandSaturdaynight,dresseduptotheninesandveryfreewithhismoney.Sometimesmyou’dseehimleadingoffsomegreatsheepish,red-facedlumpofafarmladwho’dtakentheshillingwheoodrunktoseeandfoundinthemthatitwouldcosthimtwentypoundstogetoutofit.Peopleusedtostandintheirdoorwaysandshaketheirheadswhentheysawthemgopast,almostasifithadbeenafuneral.‘Wellnow!Listedforasoldier!Justthinkofit!Afineyoungfellowlikethat!’Itjustshockedthem.Listingforasoldier,intheireyes,wastheexactequivalentofagirl’sgoingoreets.Theirattitudetothewar,andtotheArmy,wasverycurious.TheyhadthegoodoldEnglishnotionsthatthered-coatsarethescumoftheearthandanyonewhojoinstheArmywilldieofdrinkandghttohell,butatthesametimetheyweregoodpatriots,stuionJatheirwindows,aasanarticleoffaiththattheEnglishhadneverbeeeninbattleandnevercouldbe.AtthattimeeveryoheNonists,usedtosiimentalsongsaboutthethinredlihesoldierboywhodiedolefieldfaraway.Thesesoldierboysalwaysusedtodie‘wheandshellwereflying’,Iremember.Itpuzzledmeasakid.ShotIcoulduand,butitproducedaqueerpictureinmymindtothinkofcockle-shellsflyingthroughtheair.WhenMafekingwasrelievedthepeoplenearlyyelledtheroofoff,andtherewereatanyratetimeswhentheybelievedthetalesabouttheBoerschugbabiesintotheairandskeweriheirbayos.OldBrewergotsofedupwiththekidsyelling‘Krooger!’afterhimthattowardstheendofthewarheshavedhisbeardoff.Thepeople’sattitudetowardstheGoverwasreallythesame.Theywerealltrue-blueEnglishmenandsworethatVickywasthebestqueenthateverlivedandfnersweredirt,butatthesametimenobodyeverthoughtofpayingatax,notevenadog-lice,iftherewasanywayofdodgingit.
BeforeandafterthewarLowerBinfieldwasaLiberalstituency.Duriherewasaby-elewhichtheservativeswon.Iwastooyoungtograspwhatitwasallabout,IonlykhatIwasaservativebecauseIlikedthebluestreamersbetterthantheredones,andIchieflyrememberitbecauseofadrunkenmanwhofellonhishepavementoutsidetheGee.Inthegeneralexcitementnobodytookanynoti,ahereforhoursisunwithhisblroundhim,adriediturple.Bythetimethe1906eleealongIwasoldenoughtouandit,moreorless,andthistimeIwasaLiberalbecauseeverybodyelsewas.Thepeoplechasedtheservativedidatehalfamileandthrewhimintoapondfullofduckweed.Peopletookpoliticsseriouslyinthosedays.Theyusedtobeginstuprotteneggsweeksbeforeaion.
Veryearlyinlife,whentheBoerWarbrokeout,IrememberthebigrowbetweenFatherandUncleEzekiel.UncleEzekielhadalittleboot-shopihestreetsofftheHighStreet,andalsodidsomecobbling.Itwasasmallbusinessandteogetsmaller,whichdidn’tmattergreatlybecauseUncleEzekielwasn’tmarried.Hewasonlyahalf-brotherandmucholderthanFather,twentyyearsolderatleast,andforthefifteenyearsorsothatIknewhimhealwayslookedexactlythesame.Hewasafine-lookingoldchap,rathertall,withwhitehairaestwhiskersIeversaw—whiteasthistledown.Hehadawayofslappinghisleatherapronandstandingupverystraight—areafrombendihelast,Isuppose—afterwhichhe’dbarkhisopinionsstraightinyourfadingupwithashostlycackle.Hewasarealoldeenth-turyLiberal,thekindthatnotonlyusedtoaskyouwhatGladstonesaidin‘78butcouldtellyoutheanswer,aheveryfewpeopleinLowerBinfieldwhostucktothesameopinionsallthroughthewar.HewasalwaysdenoungJoeChamberlainandsomegangofpeoplethathereferredtoas‘theParkLaneriff-raff’.Ihearhimnow,havingoneofhisargumentswithFather.‘Themandtheirfar-flungEmpire!’tflingittoofarforme.He-he-he!’Aher’svoice,aquiet,worried,stiouskindofvoiingbackathimwiththewhiteman’sburdenandourdootytotheporeblackswhomthesehereBoarstreatedsomethingshameful.ForaweekorsoafterUncleEzekielgaveitoutthathero-BoerandaLittleEnglaheywerehardlyonspeakingterms.Theyhadanotherrowwherocitystoriesstarted.Fatherwasveryworriedbythetaleshe’dheard,aackledUncleEzekielaboutit.LittleEnglanderorno,surelyhecouldn’tthinkitrightforthesehereBoarstothrowbabiesintheairandcatchthemontheirbayos,eveniftheyWEREonlyniggerbabies?ButUncleEzekieljustlaughedinhisface.Fatherhadgotitallwrong!Itwasn’ttheBoarswhothrewbabiesintheair,itwastheBritishsoldiers!Hekeptgrabbingholdofme—Imusthavebeenaboutfive—toillustrate.‘Throwthemintheairahemlikefrogs,Itellyou!SameasImightthrowthisyoungsterhere!’Andthenhe’dswingmeupandalmostletgoofme,andIhadavividpictureofmyselfflyingthroughtheairandlandingplonkontheendofabayo.
FatherwasquitedifferentfromUncleEzekiel.Idon’tknowmuygrandparents,theyweredeadbeforeIwasborn,Ionlyknowthatmygrandfatherhadbeenacobblerandlateinlifehemarriedthewidowofaseedsman,whichwashowwecametohavetheshop.Itwasajobthatdidn’treallysuitFather,thoughhekhebusinessiandwaseverlastinglyw.ExceptonSundayandveryoccasionallyonweek-dayeveningsIneverrememberhimwithoutmealonthebacksofhishandsandinthelinesofhisfadinwhatwasleftofhishair.He’dmarriedwhenhewasinhisthirtiesandmusthavebeennearlyfortywhenIfirstrememberhim.Hewasasmallman,asrey,quietlittleman,alwaysinshirtsleevesandwhiteapronandalwaysdusty-lookingbecauseofthemeal.Hehadaroundhead,abluntnose,aratherbushymoustache,spectacles,andbutter-colouredhair,thesamecolourasmihe’dlostmostofitanditwasalwaysmealy.Mygrandfatherhadbetteredhimselfagooddealbymarryingtheseedsman’swidow,andFatherhadbeeneducatedatWaltonGrammarSchool,wherethefarmersaer-offtradesmeheirsons,whereasUncleEzekiellikedtoboastthathe’dneverbeentoschoolinhislifeandhadtaughthimselftoreadbyatallowdleafterwhours.Buthewasamuchquicker-wittedmanthanFather,hecouldarguewithanybody,andheusedtoquoteCarlyleandSpeheyard.Fatherhadaslowsortofmind,he’dakento‘book-learning’,ashecalledit,andhisEnglishwasn’tgood.OnSundayafternoons,theonlytimewhenhereallytookthingseasy,he’dsettledownbytheparlourfireplacetohavewhathecalleda‘goodread’attheSundaypaper.HisfavouritepaperwasThePeople—MotherpreferredtheNewsoftheWorld,whichshesideredhadmoremurdersinit.Iseethemnow.ASundayafternoon—summer,ofcourse,alwayssummer—asmellofroastporkandgreensstillfloatingintheair,andMotherononesideofthefireplace,startingofftoreadthelatestmurderbutgraduallyfallingasleepwithhermouthopen,andFatheroher,inslippersaacles,whiswayslowlythroughtheyardsofsmudgyprint.Afeelingofsummerallroundyou,thegeraniuminthewindow,astarlinggsomewhere,andmyselfuhetablewiththeB.O.P.,makingbelievethatthetableclothisatent.Afterwards,attea,ashechewedhiswaythroughtheradishesandspringonions,Fatherwouldtalkinaruminativekindofwayaboutthestuffhe’dbeenreading,thefiresandshipwredsdalsinhighsociety,andtheseherenewflyingmaesandthechap(InoticethattothisdayheturnsupintheSundaypapersaboutohreeyears)allowedbyawhaleintheRedSeaandtakenoutthreedayslater,alivebutbleachedwhitebythewhale’sgastricjuice.Fatherwasalwaysabitscepticalofthisstory,andofthenewflyingmaes,otherwisehebelievedeverythingheread.Until1909nooneinLowerBinfieldbelievedthathumanbeingswouldeverlearntofly.TheofficialdoewasthatifGodhadmeantustoflyHe’dhavegivenuswings.UncleEzekielcouldn’thelpretthatifGodhadmeantustorideHe’dhavegivenuswheels,butevenhedidn’tbelieveinthenewflyingmaes.
ItwasonlyonSundayafternoons,andperhapsontheoneeveningaweekwhenhelookedinattheGeeforahalf-pint,thatFatherturnedhismindtosuchthings.Atothertimeshewasalwaysmoreorlessoverwhelmedbybusiherewasn’treallysuchalottodo,butheseemedtobealwaysbusy,eitheribehindtheyard,strugglingaboutwithsadbales,orinthekindofdustylittlecubby-holebehindtheterintheshop,addingfiguresupinanotebookwithastumpofpencil.Hewasaveryhomanandaveryobligingman,veryanxioustoprovidegoodstuffandswindlenobody,whicheveninthosedayswasn’tthebestwaytogetoninbusiness.Hewouldhavebeenjustthemanforsomesmallofficialjob,apostmaster,forinstance,orstation-masterofatrystation.Buthehadherthecheekaerprisetoborrowmoneyandexpandthebusiness,ortheimaginationtothinkofnewselling-liwascharacteristithattheonlystreakofimaginationheevershowed,theiionofanewseedmixturefe-birds(Bowling’sMixtureitwascalled,anditwasfamousoveraradiusofnearlyfivemiles)wasreallyduetoUncleEzekiel.UncleEzekielwasabitofabird-fancierandhadquantitiesofgoldfinchesinhisdarklittleshop.Itwashistheorythatcage-birdslosetheircolourbecauseoflackofvariationintheirdiet.IntheyardbehindtheshopFatherhadatinyplotofgroundinwhichheusedtogrowabouttwentykindsofweedunderwire-ing,andheusedtodrythemandmixtheirseedswithordinaryaryseed.Jackie,thebullfinchwhohungintheshop-windoposedtobeaisementforBowling’sMixture.Certainly,ubullfinchesincages,Jaeverturnedblack.
MotherwasfateversinceIrememberher.Nodoubtit’sfromherthatIimypituitarydeficy,orwhateveritisthatmakesyougetfat.
Shewasalargishwoman,abittallerthanFather,withhairagooddealfairerthanhisandateowearblackdresses.ButexceptonSundaysIneverrememberherwithoutanapron.Itwouldbeanexaggeration,butnotaverybigoosaythatIneverrememberherwhenshewasn’tcooking.Whenyoulookbackoveralongperiodyouseemtoseehumanbeingsalwaysfixedinsomespecialpladsomecharacteristicattitude.Itseemstoyouthattheywerealwaysdoilythesamething.Well,justaswhenIthinkofFatherIrememberhimalwaysbehindtheter,withhishairallmealy,addingupfigureswithastumpofpencilwhichhemoisteweenhislips,andjustasIrememberUncleEzekiel,withhisghostlywhitewhiskers,straighteninghimselfoutandslappinghisleatherapron,sowhenIthinkofMotherIrememberheratthekittable,withherforearmscoveredwithflour,rollingoutalumpofdough.
Youknowthekindofkitpeoplehadinthosedays.Ahugeplace,ratherdarkandlow,withagreatbeamacrosstheceilingandastonefloorandcellarsunderh.Everythingenormous,orsoitseemedtomewhenIwasakid.Avaststonesinkwhichdidn’thaveatapbutanironpump,adresserconewallandghtuptotheceiling,agigantigewhichburnedhalfatonamonthandtookGodknowshowlongtoblacklead.Motheratthetablerollingoutahugeflapofdough.Andmyselfcrawlinground,messingaboutwithbundlesoffirewoodandlumpsofcoalandtile-traps(wehadtheminallthedarkersandtheyusedtobebaitedwithbeer)andnowandagaininguptothetabletotryandcadgeabitoffood.Mother‘didn’tholdwith’eatiweenmeals.Yougenerallygotthesameanswer:‘Getalongwithyou,now!I’mnotgoingtohaveyouspoilingyourdinner.Youreye’sbiggerthanyourbelly.’Veryoccasionally,however,she’dcutyouoffathinstripofdiedpeel.
IusedtoliketowatchMotherrollingpastry.There’salwaysafasationinwatganybodydoajobwhichhereallyuands.Watan—awomanwhoreallyknowshowtoean—rollingdough.She’sgotapeculiar,solemn,indrawnair,asatisfiedkindofair,likeapriestesscelebratingasacredrite.Andinherownmind,ofcourse,that’sexactlywhatsheis.Motherhadthick,pink,strongforearmswhichweregenerallymottledwithflour.Whenshewascooking,allhermovementswerewonderfullypreciseandfirm.Inherhandsegg-whisksandmincersandrolling-pinsdidexactlywhattheyweremeanttodo.Whenyousawhercookingyoukhatshewasinaworldwhereshebelonged,amongthingsshereallyuood.ExceptthroughtheSundaypapersandanoccasionalbitofgossiptheoutsideworlddidn’treallyexistforher.AlthoughshereadmoreeasilythanFather,andunlikehimusedtoreadesaswellasneers,shewasunbelievablyignorant.IrealizedthisevenbythetimeIwastenyearsold.Shecertainlycouldn’thavetoldyouwhetherIrelandwaseastorwestofEngland,andIdoubtwhetheranytimeuptotheoutbreakoftheGreatWarshecouldhavetoldyourimeMinister.Moreovershehadn’tthesmallestwishtoknowsuchthings.LateronwhenIreadbooksaboutEasterntrieswheretheypractisepolygamy,andthesecretharemswherethewomenarelockedupwithblauchsmountingguardoverthem,IusedtothinkhowshockedMotherwouldhavebeenifshe’dheardofit.Ialmosthearhervoice—‘Well,now!Shuttingtheirwivesuplikethat!TheIDEA!’Notthatshe’dhaveknownwhataeunuchwas.Butiyshelivedherlifeinaspacethatmusthavebeenassmallandalmostasprivateastheaveragezenana.Eveninourownhousetherewerepartswhereshefoot.Sheneverwentintotheloftbehindtheyardandveryseldomintotheshop.Idon’tthinkIeverrememberherservingaer.Shewouldn’thaveknownwhereanyofthethingswerekept,anduntiltheyweremilledintofloursheprobablydidn’tknowthediffereweeandoats.Whyshouldshe?TheshopwasFather’sbusiness,itwas‘theman’swork’,andevenaboutthemoneysideofitshehadn’tverymuchcuriosity.Herjob,‘thewoman’swork’,wastolookafterthehouseandthemealsandthelaundryandthechildren.She’dhavehadafitifshe’dseenFatheroranyoneelseofthemalesextryingtosewonabuttonforhimself.
Sofarasthemealsandsoforthwent,ourswasohosehouseswhereeverythinggoeslikeclockwork.Orno,notlikeclockwork,whichsuggestssomethingmeical.Itwasmorelikesomekindofnaturalprocess.Youkhatbreakfastwouldbeoabletomorrinmuchthesamewayasyoukhesunwouldrise.AllthroughherlifeMotherwenttobedatnineandgotupatfive,andshe’dhavethoughtitvaguelywicked—sortofdetandfnandaristocratic—tokeeplaterhours.Althoughshedidn’tmindpayingKatieSimmonstotakeJoeaforwalks,shewouldoleratetheideaofhavingawomanintohelpwiththehousework.Itwasherfirmbeliefthatahiredwomanalwayssweepsthedirtuhedresser.Ourmealswerealwaysreadyoiormousmeals—boiledbeefanddumplings,roastbeefandYorkshire,boiledmuttonandcapers,pig’shead,applepie,spotteddog,andjamroly-poly—withgracebeforeandafter.Theoldideasabingupchildrenstillheldgood,thoughtheyweregoingoutfast.Intheorychildreillthrashedandputtobedonbreadandwater,aainlyyouwereliabletobesentawayfromtableifyoumadetoomuoiseeating,orchoked,orrefusedsomethingthatwas‘goodforyou’,or‘answeredback’.Inpracticetherewasn’tmuchdisciplineinourfamily,andofthetwoMotherwasthefirmer.Father,thoughhewasalwaysquoting‘Sparetherodandspoilthechild’,wasreallymuchtooweakwithus,especiallywithJoe,whowasahardcasefromthestart.Hewasalways‘goingto’giveJoeagoodhiding,andheusedtotellusstories,whiowbelievewerelies,aboutthefrightfulthrashingshisownfatherusedtogivehimwithaleatherstrap,butnothingevercameofit.BythetimeJoewastwelvehewastforMethimacrossherknee,andafterthattherewasnodoinganythingwithhim.
Atthattimeitwasstillthoughtproperforparentstosay‘don’t’totheirchildrenalldaylong.You’doftenhearamanboastingthathe’d‘thrashthelifeoutof’hissonifhecaughthimsmoking,orstealingapples,orrobbingabird’s.Insomefamiliesthesethrashingsactuallytookplace.OldLovegrove,thesaddler,caughthistwosons,greatlumpsagedsixteenandfifteen,smokinginthegardenshedandedthemsothatyoucouldhearitalloverthetown.Lovegrovewasaveryheavysmoker.Thethrashingsneverseemedtohaveanyeffect,allboysstoleapples,robbedbirds’s,andlearosmokesoonerorlater,buttheideawasstillknogaroundthatchildrenshouldbetreatedrough.Practicallyeverythingworthdoingwasforbidden,intheoryanyway.AcctoMother,everythingthataboyeverwantstodowas‘dangerous’.Swimmingwasdangerous,climbingtreeswasdangerous,andsoweresliding,snowballing,hangingonbehindcarts,usingcatapultsandsquailers,andevenfishing.Allanimalsweredangerous,exailer,thetwocats,andJackiethebullfinch.Everyanimalhaditsspecialreizedmethodsofattagyou.Horsesbit,batsgotintoyourhair,earwigsgotintoyourears,swansbrokeywithablowoftheirwings,bullstossedyou,andsung’.Allsung,acctoMother,andwhenIquotedthepennyencyclopediatotheeffectthattheydidn’tstingbutbit,sheonlytoldmenottoanswerback.Lizards,slow-worms,toads,frogs,asalsostung.Allisstung,exceptfliesandblackbeetles.Practicallyallkindsoffood,exceptthefoodyouhadatmeals,wereeitherpoisonousor‘badforyou’.Rawpotatoesweredeadlypoison,andsoweremushroomsunlessyouboughtthematthegreengrocer’s.Rawgooseberriesgaveyoucolidraberriesgaveyouaskin-rash.Ifyouhadabathafteramealyoudiedofcramp,ifyoucutyourselfbetweehumbandforefingeryougotlockjaw,andifyouwashedyourhandsiereggswereboiledinyougotwarts.Nearlyeverythingintheshopoisonous,whichwaswhyMotherhadputthegateinthedoorway.Cowcakeoisonous,andsowaschi,andsoweremustardseedandKarswoodpoultryspice.Sweetswerebadforyouaiweenmealswasbadforyou,thoughcuriouslyenoughtherewerecertainkindsofeatiweehatMotheralwaysallowed.Whenshewasmakingplumjamsheusedtoletuseatthesyrupystuffthatwasskimmedoffthetop,andweusedteourselveswithittillweweresick.Althoughnearlyeverythingintheworldwaseitherdangerousorpoisonous,therewerecertainthingsthathadmysteriousvirtues.Rawonionswereacureforalmosteverything.Astogtiedroundyourneckwasacureforasorethroat.Sulphurinadog’sdrinkingwateractedasatonidoldNailer’sbowlbehindthebackdooralwayshadalumpofsulphurinitwhichstayedthereyearafteryear,neverdissolving.
Weusedtohaveteaatsix.ByfourMenerallyfihehousework,aweenfourandsixsheusedtohaveaquietcupofteaand‘readherpaper’,asshecalledit.Asamatteroffactshedidn’tofteheneerexceptonSundays.Theweek-daypapersonlyhadtheday’snews,anditwasonlyoccasionallythattherewasamurder.ButtheeditorsoftheSundaypapershadgraspedthatpeopledon’treallymihertheirmurdersareuptodateaherewasnonewmurderonhandthey’dhashupanoldone,sometimesgoingasfarbackasDrPalmerandMrsManning.IthinkMotherthoughtoftheworldoutsideLowerBinfleldchieflyasaplacewheremurderswereitted.Murdershadaterriblefasationforher,because,assheoftensaid,shejustdidn’tknowhowpeoplecouldBEsowicked.Cuttingtheirwives’throats,buryingtheirfathersundertfloors,throwingbabiesdownwells!HowanyonecouldDOsuchthings!TheJacktheRipperscarehadhappenedaboutthetimewhenFatherandMotherweremarried,andthebigwoodenshuttersweusedtodrawovertheshopwindowseverynightdatedfromthen.Shuttersforshopwindowsweregoingout,mostoftheshopsintheHighStreetdidn’thavethem,butMotherfeltsafebehindthem.Allalong,shesaid,she’dhadadreadfulfeelingthatJacktheRipperwashidinginLowerBiheCrippethatwasyearslater,whenIwasalmostgrownup—upsetherbadly.Ihearhervoiow.‘Guttinghispoorwifeupandburyihecoalcellar!TheIDEA!WhatI’ddotothatmanifIgotholdofhim!’Andcuriouslyenough,whehoughtofthedreadfulwiessofthatlittleAmeridoctorwhodismemberedhiswife(andmadeaveryjobofitbytakingalltheboandchugtheheadintothesea,ifIrememberrightly)thetearsactuallycameintohereyes.
Butwhatshemostlyreadonweek-dayswasHilda’sHomepanion.Inthosedaysitartoftheregularfurnishingofanyhomelikeours,andasamatteroffactitstillexists,thoughit’sbeenabitcrowdedoutbythemorestreamlinedwomen’spapersthathaveeupsihewar.Ihadalookatacopyonlytheotherday.It’sged,butlessthanmostthings.Therearestillthesameenormousserialstoriesthatgoonforsixmonths(anditallesrightintheendwitheblossomstofollow),andthesameHouseholdHints,andthesameadsforsewing-maesandremediesforbadlegs.It’schieflytheprintandtheillustrationsthathaveged.Inthosedaystheheroiolooklikeaimerandnowshehastolooklikeader.MotherwasaslowreaderandbelievediihreepennyworthoutofHilda’sHomepanion.Sittingintheoldyellowarmchairbesidethehearth,withherfeetontheironfenderalepotteastewingonthehob,she’dworkherwaysteadilyfromcovertochtthroughtheserial,thetwoshortstories,theHouseholdHints,theadsforZam-Buk,andtheaocorrespos.Hilda’sHomepaniongenerallylastedhertheweekout,andsomeweeksshedidn’tevenfinishit.Sometimestheheatofthefire,orthebuzzingofthebluebottlesonsummerafternoons,wouldsendheroffintoadoze,andataboutaquartertosixshe’dwithatremendousstart,glaheclothemantelpiedtheoastewbecauseteawasgoingtobelate.Butteawase.
Inthosedays—till1909,tobeexact—Fathercouldstillaffordanerrandboy,andheusedtoleavetheshoptohimandeihthebacksofhishandsallmealy.ThenMotherwouldstopcuttingslicesofbreadforamomentandsay,‘Ifyou’llgiveusgrace,Father’,andFather,whileweallbentourheadsonourchests,wouldmumblereverently,‘Fwatwebouttoreceive—Lordmakeustrulythankful—Amen.’Lateron,whenJoewasabitolder,itwouldbe‘YOUgiveusgracetoday,Joe’,andJoewouldpipeitout.Motherneversaidgrace:ithadtobesomeohemalesex.
Therewerealwaysbluebottlesbuzzingonsummerafternoons.Ourswasn’tasanitaryhouse,preciousfewhousesinLowerBinfieldwere.Isupposethetownmusthavetainedfivehundredhousesandtherecertainly’thavebeehahbathroomsorfiftyeshouldnowdescribeasaW.summerourbackyardalwayssmeltofdustbins.Andallhouseshadisinthem.Wehadblackbeetlesinthewainsgandcricketssomewherebehirange,besides,ofcourse,themeal-wormsintheshop.Inthosedaysevenahouse-proudwomaherdidn’tseeanythingtoobjecttoinblackbeetles.Theywereasmuchapartofthekitasthedresserortherolling-pin.Buttherewereisandis.Thehousesinthebadstreetbehindthebrewery,whereKatieSimmonslived,wereoverrunbybugs.Motheroranyoftheshopkeepers’wiveswouldhavediedofshameifthey’dhadbugsinthehouse.Infactitwassideredpropertosaythatyoudidn’tevenknowabugbysight.
Thegreatbluefliesusedtoesailingintothelarderandsitlonginglyonthewirecoversoverthemeat.‘Drattheflies!’peopleusedtosay,buttheflieswereanactofGodandapartfrommeat-coversandfly-papersyoucouldn’tdomuchaboutthem.IsaidalittlewhilebackthatthefirstthingIrememberisthesmellofsainfoin,butthesmellofdustbinsisalsoaprettyearlymemory.WhenIthinkofMother’skit,withthestonefloorale-trapsaeelfenderandtheblackleadedrange,Ialwaysseemtohearthebluebottlesbuzzingahedustbin,andalsooldNailer,whocarriedaprettypowerfulsmellofdog.AndGodknowsthereareworsesmellsandsounds.Whichwouldyousoonerlistento,abluebottleorabombingplane?松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
Half-waythroughthemsomeofthefarmerswouldeintotheshopandrunsamplesofseedthroughtheirfingers.ActuallyFatherdidverylittlebusinesswiththefarmers,becausehehadnodeliveryvanandcouldn’taffivelos.Mostlyhedidaratherpettyclassofbusiness,poultryfoodandfodderforthetradesmen’shorsesandsoforth.OldBrewer,oftheMillFarm,whowasastingyoldbastardwithagrey-beard,usedtostandthereforhalfanhour,fingeringsamplesofchiaingthemdropintohispocketina-mindedmanner,afterwhich,ofcourse,hefinallyusedtomakeoffwithoutbuyinganything.Intheeveningsthepubswerefullofdrunkenmen.Inthosedaysbeercosttwopenceapint,anduhebeernowadaysithadsomegutsinit.AllthroughtheBoerWartherecruitingsergeaobeinthefour-alebaroftheGeeeveryThursdayandSaturdaynight,dresseduptotheninesandveryfreewithhismoney.Sometimesmyou’dseehimleadingoffsomegreatsheepish,red-facedlumpofafarmladwho’dtakentheshillingwheoodrunktoseeandfoundinthemthatitwouldcosthimtwentypoundstogetoutofit.Peopleusedtostandintheirdoorwaysandshaketheirheadswhentheysawthemgopast,almostasifithadbeenafuneral.‘Wellnow!Listedforasoldier!Justthinkofit!Afineyoungfellowlikethat!’Itjustshockedthem.Listingforasoldier,intheireyes,wastheexactequivalentofagirl’sgoingoreets.Theirattitudetothewar,andtotheArmy,wasverycurious.TheyhadthegoodoldEnglishnotionsthatthered-coatsarethescumoftheearthandanyonewhojoinstheArmywilldieofdrinkandghttohell,butatthesametimetheyweregoodpatriots,stuionJatheirwindows,aasanarticleoffaiththattheEnglishhadneverbeeeninbattleandnevercouldbe.AtthattimeeveryoheNonists,usedtosiimentalsongsaboutthethinredlihesoldierboywhodiedolefieldfaraway.Thesesoldierboysalwaysusedtodie‘wheandshellwereflying’,Iremember.Itpuzzledmeasakid.ShotIcoulduand,butitproducedaqueerpictureinmymindtothinkofcockle-shellsflyingthroughtheair.WhenMafekingwasrelievedthepeoplenearlyyelledtheroofoff,andtherewereatanyratetimeswhentheybelievedthetalesabouttheBoerschugbabiesintotheairandskeweriheirbayos.OldBrewergotsofedupwiththekidsyelling‘Krooger!’afterhimthattowardstheendofthewarheshavedhisbeardoff.Thepeople’sattitudetowardstheGoverwasreallythesame.Theywerealltrue-blueEnglishmenandsworethatVickywasthebestqueenthateverlivedandfnersweredirt,butatthesametimenobodyeverthoughtofpayingatax,notevenadog-lice,iftherewasanywayofdodgingit.
BeforeandafterthewarLowerBinfieldwasaLiberalstituency.Duriherewasaby-elewhichtheservativeswon.Iwastooyoungtograspwhatitwasallabout,IonlykhatIwasaservativebecauseIlikedthebluestreamersbetterthantheredones,andIchieflyrememberitbecauseofadrunkenmanwhofellonhishepavementoutsidetheGee.Inthegeneralexcitementnobodytookanynoti,ahereforhoursisunwithhisblroundhim,adriediturple.Bythetimethe1906eleealongIwasoldenoughtouandit,moreorless,andthistimeIwasaLiberalbecauseeverybodyelsewas.Thepeoplechasedtheservativedidatehalfamileandthrewhimintoapondfullofduckweed.Peopletookpoliticsseriouslyinthosedays.Theyusedtobeginstuprotteneggsweeksbeforeaion.
Veryearlyinlife,whentheBoerWarbrokeout,IrememberthebigrowbetweenFatherandUncleEzekiel.UncleEzekielhadalittleboot-shopihestreetsofftheHighStreet,andalsodidsomecobbling.Itwasasmallbusinessandteogetsmaller,whichdidn’tmattergreatlybecauseUncleEzekielwasn’tmarried.Hewasonlyahalf-brotherandmucholderthanFather,twentyyearsolderatleast,andforthefifteenyearsorsothatIknewhimhealwayslookedexactlythesame.Hewasafine-lookingoldchap,rathertall,withwhitehairaestwhiskersIeversaw—whiteasthistledown.Hehadawayofslappinghisleatherapronandstandingupverystraight—areafrombendihelast,Isuppose—afterwhichhe’dbarkhisopinionsstraightinyourfadingupwithashostlycackle.Hewasarealoldeenth-turyLiberal,thekindthatnotonlyusedtoaskyouwhatGladstonesaidin‘78butcouldtellyoutheanswer,aheveryfewpeopleinLowerBinfieldwhostucktothesameopinionsallthroughthewar.HewasalwaysdenoungJoeChamberlainandsomegangofpeoplethathereferredtoas‘theParkLaneriff-raff’.Ihearhimnow,havingoneofhisargumentswithFather.‘Themandtheirfar-flungEmpire!’tflingittoofarforme.He-he-he!’Aher’svoice,aquiet,worried,stiouskindofvoiingbackathimwiththewhiteman’sburdenandourdootytotheporeblackswhomthesehereBoarstreatedsomethingshameful.ForaweekorsoafterUncleEzekielgaveitoutthathero-BoerandaLittleEnglaheywerehardlyonspeakingterms.Theyhadanotherrowwherocitystoriesstarted.Fatherwasveryworriedbythetaleshe’dheard,aackledUncleEzekielaboutit.LittleEnglanderorno,surelyhecouldn’tthinkitrightforthesehereBoarstothrowbabiesintheairandcatchthemontheirbayos,eveniftheyWEREonlyniggerbabies?ButUncleEzekieljustlaughedinhisface.Fatherhadgotitallwrong!Itwasn’ttheBoarswhothrewbabiesintheair,itwastheBritishsoldiers!Hekeptgrabbingholdofme—Imusthavebeenaboutfive—toillustrate.‘Throwthemintheairahemlikefrogs,Itellyou!SameasImightthrowthisyoungsterhere!’Andthenhe’dswingmeupandalmostletgoofme,andIhadavividpictureofmyselfflyingthroughtheairandlandingplonkontheendofabayo.
FatherwasquitedifferentfromUncleEzekiel.Idon’tknowmuygrandparents,theyweredeadbeforeIwasborn,Ionlyknowthatmygrandfatherhadbeenacobblerandlateinlifehemarriedthewidowofaseedsman,whichwashowwecametohavetheshop.Itwasajobthatdidn’treallysuitFather,thoughhekhebusinessiandwaseverlastinglyw.ExceptonSundayandveryoccasionallyonweek-dayeveningsIneverrememberhimwithoutmealonthebacksofhishandsandinthelinesofhisfadinwhatwasleftofhishair.He’dmarriedwhenhewasinhisthirtiesandmusthavebeennearlyfortywhenIfirstrememberhim.Hewasasmallman,asrey,quietlittleman,alwaysinshirtsleevesandwhiteapronandalwaysdusty-lookingbecauseofthemeal.Hehadaroundhead,abluntnose,aratherbushymoustache,spectacles,andbutter-colouredhair,thesamecolourasmihe’dlostmostofitanditwasalwaysmealy.Mygrandfatherhadbetteredhimselfagooddealbymarryingtheseedsman’swidow,andFatherhadbeeneducatedatWaltonGrammarSchool,wherethefarmersaer-offtradesmeheirsons,whereasUncleEzekiellikedtoboastthathe’dneverbeentoschoolinhislifeandhadtaughthimselftoreadbyatallowdleafterwhours.Buthewasamuchquicker-wittedmanthanFather,hecouldarguewithanybody,andheusedtoquoteCarlyleandSpeheyard.Fatherhadaslowsortofmind,he’dakento‘book-learning’,ashecalledit,andhisEnglishwasn’tgood.OnSundayafternoons,theonlytimewhenhereallytookthingseasy,he’dsettledownbytheparlourfireplacetohavewhathecalleda‘goodread’attheSundaypaper.HisfavouritepaperwasThePeople—MotherpreferredtheNewsoftheWorld,whichshesideredhadmoremurdersinit.Iseethemnow.ASundayafternoon—summer,ofcourse,alwayssummer—asmellofroastporkandgreensstillfloatingintheair,andMotherononesideofthefireplace,startingofftoreadthelatestmurderbutgraduallyfallingasleepwithhermouthopen,andFatheroher,inslippersaacles,whiswayslowlythroughtheyardsofsmudgyprint.Afeelingofsummerallroundyou,thegeraniuminthewindow,astarlinggsomewhere,andmyselfuhetablewiththeB.O.P.,makingbelievethatthetableclothisatent.Afterwards,attea,ashechewedhiswaythroughtheradishesandspringonions,Fatherwouldtalkinaruminativekindofwayaboutthestuffhe’dbeenreading,thefiresandshipwredsdalsinhighsociety,andtheseherenewflyingmaesandthechap(InoticethattothisdayheturnsupintheSundaypapersaboutohreeyears)allowedbyawhaleintheRedSeaandtakenoutthreedayslater,alivebutbleachedwhitebythewhale’sgastricjuice.Fatherwasalwaysabitscepticalofthisstory,andofthenewflyingmaes,otherwisehebelievedeverythingheread.Until1909nooneinLowerBinfieldbelievedthathumanbeingswouldeverlearntofly.TheofficialdoewasthatifGodhadmeantustoflyHe’dhavegivenuswings.UncleEzekielcouldn’thelpretthatifGodhadmeantustorideHe’dhavegivenuswheels,butevenhedidn’tbelieveinthenewflyingmaes.
ItwasonlyonSundayafternoons,andperhapsontheoneeveningaweekwhenhelookedinattheGeeforahalf-pint,thatFatherturnedhismindtosuchthings.Atothertimeshewasalwaysmoreorlessoverwhelmedbybusiherewasn’treallysuchalottodo,butheseemedtobealwaysbusy,eitheribehindtheyard,strugglingaboutwithsadbales,orinthekindofdustylittlecubby-holebehindtheterintheshop,addingfiguresupinanotebookwithastumpofpencil.Hewasaveryhomanandaveryobligingman,veryanxioustoprovidegoodstuffandswindlenobody,whicheveninthosedayswasn’tthebestwaytogetoninbusiness.Hewouldhavebeenjustthemanforsomesmallofficialjob,apostmaster,forinstance,orstation-masterofatrystation.Buthehadherthecheekaerprisetoborrowmoneyandexpandthebusiness,ortheimaginationtothinkofnewselling-liwascharacteristithattheonlystreakofimaginationheevershowed,theiionofanewseedmixturefe-birds(Bowling’sMixtureitwascalled,anditwasfamousoveraradiusofnearlyfivemiles)wasreallyduetoUncleEzekiel.UncleEzekielwasabitofabird-fancierandhadquantitiesofgoldfinchesinhisdarklittleshop.Itwashistheorythatcage-birdslosetheircolourbecauseoflackofvariationintheirdiet.IntheyardbehindtheshopFatherhadatinyplotofgroundinwhichheusedtogrowabouttwentykindsofweedunderwire-ing,andheusedtodrythemandmixtheirseedswithordinaryaryseed.Jackie,thebullfinchwhohungintheshop-windoposedtobeaisementforBowling’sMixture.Certainly,ubullfinchesincages,Jaeverturnedblack.
MotherwasfateversinceIrememberher.Nodoubtit’sfromherthatIimypituitarydeficy,orwhateveritisthatmakesyougetfat.
Shewasalargishwoman,abittallerthanFather,withhairagooddealfairerthanhisandateowearblackdresses.ButexceptonSundaysIneverrememberherwithoutanapron.Itwouldbeanexaggeration,butnotaverybigoosaythatIneverrememberherwhenshewasn’tcooking.Whenyoulookbackoveralongperiodyouseemtoseehumanbeingsalwaysfixedinsomespecialpladsomecharacteristicattitude.Itseemstoyouthattheywerealwaysdoilythesamething.Well,justaswhenIthinkofFatherIrememberhimalwaysbehindtheter,withhishairallmealy,addingupfigureswithastumpofpencilwhichhemoisteweenhislips,andjustasIrememberUncleEzekiel,withhisghostlywhitewhiskers,straighteninghimselfoutandslappinghisleatherapron,sowhenIthinkofMotherIrememberheratthekittable,withherforearmscoveredwithflour,rollingoutalumpofdough.
Youknowthekindofkitpeoplehadinthosedays.Ahugeplace,ratherdarkandlow,withagreatbeamacrosstheceilingandastonefloorandcellarsunderh.Everythingenormous,orsoitseemedtomewhenIwasakid.Avaststonesinkwhichdidn’thaveatapbutanironpump,adresserconewallandghtuptotheceiling,agigantigewhichburnedhalfatonamonthandtookGodknowshowlongtoblacklead.Motheratthetablerollingoutahugeflapofdough.Andmyselfcrawlinground,messingaboutwithbundlesoffirewoodandlumpsofcoalandtile-traps(wehadtheminallthedarkersandtheyusedtobebaitedwithbeer)andnowandagaininguptothetabletotryandcadgeabitoffood.Mother‘didn’tholdwith’eatiweenmeals.Yougenerallygotthesameanswer:‘Getalongwithyou,now!I’mnotgoingtohaveyouspoilingyourdinner.Youreye’sbiggerthanyourbelly.’Veryoccasionally,however,she’dcutyouoffathinstripofdiedpeel.
IusedtoliketowatchMotherrollingpastry.There’salwaysafasationinwatganybodydoajobwhichhereallyuands.Watan—awomanwhoreallyknowshowtoean—rollingdough.She’sgotapeculiar,solemn,indrawnair,asatisfiedkindofair,likeapriestesscelebratingasacredrite.Andinherownmind,ofcourse,that’sexactlywhatsheis.Motherhadthick,pink,strongforearmswhichweregenerallymottledwithflour.Whenshewascooking,allhermovementswerewonderfullypreciseandfirm.Inherhandsegg-whisksandmincersandrolling-pinsdidexactlywhattheyweremeanttodo.Whenyousawhercookingyoukhatshewasinaworldwhereshebelonged,amongthingsshereallyuood.ExceptthroughtheSundaypapersandanoccasionalbitofgossiptheoutsideworlddidn’treallyexistforher.AlthoughshereadmoreeasilythanFather,andunlikehimusedtoreadesaswellasneers,shewasunbelievablyignorant.IrealizedthisevenbythetimeIwastenyearsold.Shecertainlycouldn’thavetoldyouwhetherIrelandwaseastorwestofEngland,andIdoubtwhetheranytimeuptotheoutbreakoftheGreatWarshecouldhavetoldyourimeMinister.Moreovershehadn’tthesmallestwishtoknowsuchthings.LateronwhenIreadbooksaboutEasterntrieswheretheypractisepolygamy,andthesecretharemswherethewomenarelockedupwithblauchsmountingguardoverthem,IusedtothinkhowshockedMotherwouldhavebeenifshe’dheardofit.Ialmosthearhervoice—‘Well,now!Shuttingtheirwivesuplikethat!TheIDEA!’Notthatshe’dhaveknownwhataeunuchwas.Butiyshelivedherlifeinaspacethatmusthavebeenassmallandalmostasprivateastheaveragezenana.Eveninourownhousetherewerepartswhereshefoot.Sheneverwentintotheloftbehindtheyardandveryseldomintotheshop.Idon’tthinkIeverrememberherservingaer.Shewouldn’thaveknownwhereanyofthethingswerekept,anduntiltheyweremilledintofloursheprobablydidn’tknowthediffereweeandoats.Whyshouldshe?TheshopwasFather’sbusiness,itwas‘theman’swork’,andevenaboutthemoneysideofitshehadn’tverymuchcuriosity.Herjob,‘thewoman’swork’,wastolookafterthehouseandthemealsandthelaundryandthechildren.She’dhavehadafitifshe’dseenFatheroranyoneelseofthemalesextryingtosewonabuttonforhimself.
Sofarasthemealsandsoforthwent,ourswasohosehouseswhereeverythinggoeslikeclockwork.Orno,notlikeclockwork,whichsuggestssomethingmeical.Itwasmorelikesomekindofnaturalprocess.Youkhatbreakfastwouldbeoabletomorrinmuchthesamewayasyoukhesunwouldrise.AllthroughherlifeMotherwenttobedatnineandgotupatfive,andshe’dhavethoughtitvaguelywicked—sortofdetandfnandaristocratic—tokeeplaterhours.Althoughshedidn’tmindpayingKatieSimmonstotakeJoeaforwalks,shewouldoleratetheideaofhavingawomanintohelpwiththehousework.Itwasherfirmbeliefthatahiredwomanalwayssweepsthedirtuhedresser.Ourmealswerealwaysreadyoiormousmeals—boiledbeefanddumplings,roastbeefandYorkshire,boiledmuttonandcapers,pig’shead,applepie,spotteddog,andjamroly-poly—withgracebeforeandafter.Theoldideasabingupchildrenstillheldgood,thoughtheyweregoingoutfast.Intheorychildreillthrashedandputtobedonbreadandwater,aainlyyouwereliabletobesentawayfromtableifyoumadetoomuoiseeating,orchoked,orrefusedsomethingthatwas‘goodforyou’,or‘answeredback’.Inpracticetherewasn’tmuchdisciplineinourfamily,andofthetwoMotherwasthefirmer.Father,thoughhewasalwaysquoting‘Sparetherodandspoilthechild’,wasreallymuchtooweakwithus,especiallywithJoe,whowasahardcasefromthestart.Hewasalways‘goingto’giveJoeagoodhiding,andheusedtotellusstories,whiowbelievewerelies,aboutthefrightfulthrashingshisownfatherusedtogivehimwithaleatherstrap,butnothingevercameofit.BythetimeJoewastwelvehewastforMethimacrossherknee,andafterthattherewasnodoinganythingwithhim.
Atthattimeitwasstillthoughtproperforparentstosay‘don’t’totheirchildrenalldaylong.You’doftenhearamanboastingthathe’d‘thrashthelifeoutof’hissonifhecaughthimsmoking,orstealingapples,orrobbingabird’s.Insomefamiliesthesethrashingsactuallytookplace.OldLovegrove,thesaddler,caughthistwosons,greatlumpsagedsixteenandfifteen,smokinginthegardenshedandedthemsothatyoucouldhearitalloverthetown.Lovegrovewasaveryheavysmoker.Thethrashingsneverseemedtohaveanyeffect,allboysstoleapples,robbedbirds’s,andlearosmokesoonerorlater,buttheideawasstillknogaroundthatchildrenshouldbetreatedrough.Practicallyeverythingworthdoingwasforbidden,intheoryanyway.AcctoMother,everythingthataboyeverwantstodowas‘dangerous’.Swimmingwasdangerous,climbingtreeswasdangerous,andsoweresliding,snowballing,hangingonbehindcarts,usingcatapultsandsquailers,andevenfishing.Allanimalsweredangerous,exailer,thetwocats,andJackiethebullfinch.Everyanimalhaditsspecialreizedmethodsofattagyou.Horsesbit,batsgotintoyourhair,earwigsgotintoyourears,swansbrokeywithablowoftheirwings,bullstossedyou,andsung’.Allsung,acctoMother,andwhenIquotedthepennyencyclopediatotheeffectthattheydidn’tstingbutbit,sheonlytoldmenottoanswerback.Lizards,slow-worms,toads,frogs,asalsostung.Allisstung,exceptfliesandblackbeetles.Practicallyallkindsoffood,exceptthefoodyouhadatmeals,wereeitherpoisonousor‘badforyou’.Rawpotatoesweredeadlypoison,andsoweremushroomsunlessyouboughtthematthegreengrocer’s.Rawgooseberriesgaveyoucolidraberriesgaveyouaskin-rash.Ifyouhadabathafteramealyoudiedofcramp,ifyoucutyourselfbetweehumbandforefingeryougotlockjaw,andifyouwashedyourhandsiereggswereboiledinyougotwarts.Nearlyeverythingintheshopoisonous,whichwaswhyMotherhadputthegateinthedoorway.Cowcakeoisonous,andsowaschi,andsoweremustardseedandKarswoodpoultryspice.Sweetswerebadforyouaiweenmealswasbadforyou,thoughcuriouslyenoughtherewerecertainkindsofeatiweehatMotheralwaysallowed.Whenshewasmakingplumjamsheusedtoletuseatthesyrupystuffthatwasskimmedoffthetop,andweusedteourselveswithittillweweresick.Althoughnearlyeverythingintheworldwaseitherdangerousorpoisonous,therewerecertainthingsthathadmysteriousvirtues.Rawonionswereacureforalmosteverything.Astogtiedroundyourneckwasacureforasorethroat.Sulphurinadog’sdrinkingwateractedasatonidoldNailer’sbowlbehindthebackdooralwayshadalumpofsulphurinitwhichstayedthereyearafteryear,neverdissolving.
Weusedtohaveteaatsix.ByfourMenerallyfihehousework,aweenfourandsixsheusedtohaveaquietcupofteaand‘readherpaper’,asshecalledit.Asamatteroffactshedidn’tofteheneerexceptonSundays.Theweek-daypapersonlyhadtheday’snews,anditwasonlyoccasionallythattherewasamurder.ButtheeditorsoftheSundaypapershadgraspedthatpeopledon’treallymihertheirmurdersareuptodateaherewasnonewmurderonhandthey’dhashupanoldone,sometimesgoingasfarbackasDrPalmerandMrsManning.IthinkMotherthoughtoftheworldoutsideLowerBinfleldchieflyasaplacewheremurderswereitted.Murdershadaterriblefasationforher,because,assheoftensaid,shejustdidn’tknowhowpeoplecouldBEsowicked.Cuttingtheirwives’throats,buryingtheirfathersundertfloors,throwingbabiesdownwells!HowanyonecouldDOsuchthings!TheJacktheRipperscarehadhappenedaboutthetimewhenFatherandMotherweremarried,andthebigwoodenshuttersweusedtodrawovertheshopwindowseverynightdatedfromthen.Shuttersforshopwindowsweregoingout,mostoftheshopsintheHighStreetdidn’thavethem,butMotherfeltsafebehindthem.Allalong,shesaid,she’dhadadreadfulfeelingthatJacktheRipperwashidinginLowerBiheCrippethatwasyearslater,whenIwasalmostgrownup—upsetherbadly.Ihearhervoiow.‘Guttinghispoorwifeupandburyihecoalcellar!TheIDEA!WhatI’ddotothatmanifIgotholdofhim!’Andcuriouslyenough,whehoughtofthedreadfulwiessofthatlittleAmeridoctorwhodismemberedhiswife(andmadeaveryjobofitbytakingalltheboandchugtheheadintothesea,ifIrememberrightly)thetearsactuallycameintohereyes.
Butwhatshemostlyreadonweek-dayswasHilda’sHomepanion.Inthosedaysitartoftheregularfurnishingofanyhomelikeours,andasamatteroffactitstillexists,thoughit’sbeenabitcrowdedoutbythemorestreamlinedwomen’spapersthathaveeupsihewar.Ihadalookatacopyonlytheotherday.It’sged,butlessthanmostthings.Therearestillthesameenormousserialstoriesthatgoonforsixmonths(anditallesrightintheendwitheblossomstofollow),andthesameHouseholdHints,andthesameadsforsewing-maesandremediesforbadlegs.It’schieflytheprintandtheillustrationsthathaveged.Inthosedaystheheroiolooklikeaimerandnowshehastolooklikeader.MotherwasaslowreaderandbelievediihreepennyworthoutofHilda’sHomepanion.Sittingintheoldyellowarmchairbesidethehearth,withherfeetontheironfenderalepotteastewingonthehob,she’dworkherwaysteadilyfromcovertochtthroughtheserial,thetwoshortstories,theHouseholdHints,theadsforZam-Buk,andtheaocorrespos.Hilda’sHomepaniongenerallylastedhertheweekout,andsomeweeksshedidn’tevenfinishit.Sometimestheheatofthefire,orthebuzzingofthebluebottlesonsummerafternoons,wouldsendheroffintoadoze,andataboutaquartertosixshe’dwithatremendousstart,glaheclothemantelpiedtheoastewbecauseteawasgoingtobelate.Butteawase.
Inthosedays—till1909,tobeexact—Fathercouldstillaffordanerrandboy,andheusedtoleavetheshoptohimandeihthebacksofhishandsallmealy.ThenMotherwouldstopcuttingslicesofbreadforamomentandsay,‘Ifyou’llgiveusgrace,Father’,andFather,whileweallbentourheadsonourchests,wouldmumblereverently,‘Fwatwebouttoreceive—Lordmakeustrulythankful—Amen.’Lateron,whenJoewasabitolder,itwouldbe‘YOUgiveusgracetoday,Joe’,andJoewouldpipeitout.Motherneversaidgrace:ithadtobesomeohemalesex.
Therewerealwaysbluebottlesbuzzingonsummerafternoons.Ourswasn’tasanitaryhouse,preciousfewhousesinLowerBinfieldwere.Isupposethetownmusthavetainedfivehundredhousesandtherecertainly’thavebeehahbathroomsorfiftyeshouldnowdescribeasaW.summerourbackyardalwayssmeltofdustbins.Andallhouseshadisinthem.Wehadblackbeetlesinthewainsgandcricketssomewherebehirange,besides,ofcourse,themeal-wormsintheshop.Inthosedaysevenahouse-proudwomaherdidn’tseeanythingtoobjecttoinblackbeetles.Theywereasmuchapartofthekitasthedresserortherolling-pin.Buttherewereisandis.Thehousesinthebadstreetbehindthebrewery,whereKatieSimmonslived,wereoverrunbybugs.Motheroranyoftheshopkeepers’wiveswouldhavediedofshameifthey’dhadbugsinthehouse.Infactitwassideredpropertosaythatyoudidn’tevenknowabugbysight.
Thegreatbluefliesusedtoesailingintothelarderandsitlonginglyonthewirecoversoverthemeat.‘Drattheflies!’peopleusedtosay,buttheflieswereanactofGodandapartfrommeat-coversandfly-papersyoucouldn’tdomuchaboutthem.IsaidalittlewhilebackthatthefirstthingIrememberisthesmellofsainfoin,butthesmellofdustbinsisalsoaprettyearlymemory.WhenIthinkofMother’skit,withthestonefloorale-trapsaeelfenderandtheblackleadedrange,Ialwaysseemtohearthebluebottlesbuzzingahedustbin,andalsooldNailer,whocarriedaprettypowerfulsmellofdog.AndGodknowsthereareworsesmellsandsounds.Whichwouldyousoonerlistento,abluebottleorabombingplane?松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
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