姐,51。。。
轻松的小说阅读环境
Site Manager
汤姆·索亚历险记 - Chapter 17
繁体
恢复默认
返回目录【键盘操作】左右光标键:上下章节;回车键:目录;双击鼠标:停止/启动自动滚动;滚动时上下光标键调节滚动速度。
  BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt polly's family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them up.In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob.presently she stopped, and said to herself:"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say that -- I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll never, never, never see him any more."This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls -- playmates of Tom's and Joe's -- came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and talking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) -- and each speaker pointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and then added something like "and I was a-standing just so -- just as I am now, and as if you was him -- I was as close as that -- and he smiled, just this way -- and then something seemed to go all over me, like -- awful, you know -- and I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!"Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the remembrance:"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once."But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices.When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None could remember when the little church had been so full before. There was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt polly entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection and the Life."As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit.There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment later the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!Aunt polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said:"Aunt polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck.""And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And the loving attentions Aunt polly lavished upon him were the one thing capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before.Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "praise God from whom all blessings flow -- sing! -- and put your hearts in it!"And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the pirate looked around upon the envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was the proudest moment of his life.As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that once more.Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day -- according to Aunt polly's varying moods -- than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself.
或许您还会喜欢:
老铁手
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:0
摘要:杰斐逊城是密苏里州的州府,同时也是柯洛县的县府,它位于密苏里河右岸一个风景优美的山丘地带,从这里可以俯视到下面奔腾不息的密苏里河和河上热闹繁忙的景象。杰斐逊城的居民那时候比现在少多了,尽管如此,由于它的地理位置、以及由于地区法院定期在这里举行会议,这赋予它一个重要的地位。这里有好几家大饭店,这些饭店价格昂贵,住宿条件还过得去,提供的膳食也还可口。 [点击阅读]
背德者
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:0
摘要:引子天主啊,我颁扬你,是你把我造就成如此卓异之人。[诗篇]①第139篇,14句①亦译《圣咏集》,《圣经·旧约》中的一卷,共一百五十篇。我给予本书以应有的价值。这是一个尽含苦涩渣滓的果实,宛似荒漠中的药西瓜。药西瓜生长在石灰质地带,吃了非但不解渴,口里还会感到火烧火燎,然而在金色的沙上却不乏瑰丽之态。 [点击阅读]
致加西亚的一封信
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:0
摘要:我相信我自己。我相信自己所售的商品。我相信我所在的公司。我相信我的同事和助手。我相信美国的商业方式。我相信生产者、创造者、制造者、销售者以及世界上所有正在努力工作的人们。我相信真理就是价值。我相信愉快的心情,也相信健康。我相信成功的关键并不是赚钱,而是创造价值。我相信阳光、空气、菠菜、苹果酱、酸-乳-、婴儿、羽绸和雪纺绸。请始终记住,人类语言里最伟大的词汇就是“自信”。 [点击阅读]
舞舞舞
作者:佚名
章节:117 人气:0
摘要:林少华一在日本当代作家中,村上春树的确是个不同凡响的存在,一颗文学奇星。短短十几年时间里,他的作品便风行东流列岛。出版社为他出了专集,杂志出了专号,书店设了专柜,每出一本书,销量少则10万,多则上百万册。其中1987年的《挪威的森林》上下册销出700余万册(1996年统计)。日本人口为我国的十分之一,就是说此书几乎每15人便拥有一册。以纯文学类小说而言,这绝对不是普通数字。 [点击阅读]
艳阳下的谋杀案
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:罗吉-安墨林船长于一七八二年在皮梳湾外的小岛上建造一栋大房子的时候,大家都觉得那是他怪异行径的极致。像他这样出身名门的人,应该有一幢华厦,座落在一大片草地上,附近也许有一条小溪流过,还有很好的牧场。可是安墨林船长毕生只爱一样:就是大海。所以他把他的大房子——而且由于必要,是一栋非常坚固的大房子——建在这个有风吹袭,海鸥翱翔的小岛上。每次一涨潮,这里就会和陆地隔开。他没有娶妻,大海就是他唯一的配偶。 [点击阅读]
芥川龙之介
作者:佚名
章节:32 人气:0
摘要:某日傍晚,有一家将,在罗生门下避雨。宽广的门下,除他以外,没有别人,只在朱漆斑驳的大圆柱上,蹲着一只蟋蟀。罗生门正当朱雀大路,本该有不少戴女笠和乌软帽的男女行人,到这儿来避雨,可是现在却只有他一个。这是为什么呢,因为这数年来,接连遭了地震、台风、大火、饥懂等几次灾难,京城已格外荒凉了。照那时留下来的记载,还有把佛像、供具打碎,将带有朱漆和飞金的木头堆在路边当柴卖的。 [点击阅读]
花儿无价
作者:佚名
章节:8 人气:0
摘要:一过晚上八点,商业街上营业时间最长的中华荞麦店也打烊了,小城顿时漆黑一片,复归寂静。夏季里,商家的经营对象是从东京、大阪等地回来省亲的人们,因此,常常会有许多店铺营业到很晚。可是,自秋风初起,东北小城的夜幕就开始早早降临了。晚上十点,城边的卡拉OK快餐店也关了门。几个手握麦克风、狂唱到最后的男女客人走出来,各个怕冷似地缩着身子,一面商量着接下来去何处,一面钻进停在路边的汽车。 [点击阅读]
苦行记
作者:佚名
章节:62 人气:0
摘要:译序《苦行记》是美国著名现实主义作家、幽默大师马克·吐温的一部半自传体著作,作者以夸张的手法记录了他1861—一1865年间在美国西部地区的冒险生活。书中的情节大多是作者自己当年的所见所闻和亲身经历,我们可以在他的自传里发现那一系列真实的素材,也可以在他的其他作品中看到这些情节的艺术再现及作者审美趣旨的发展。《苦行记》也是十九世纪淘金热时期美国西部奇迹般繁荣的写照。 [点击阅读]
英国病人
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:0
摘要:内容简介1996年囊获9项奥斯卡大奖的电影《英国病人》,早已蜚声影坛,成为世界经典名片,而它正是改编于加拿大作家迈克尔·翁达尔的同名小说...一部《英国病人》让他一举摘得了英国小说的最高奖项———布克奖(1992)。翁达杰的作品,国内鲜有译介(当年无论是电影《英国病人》还是图书《英国病人》,都没能引发一场翁达杰热)。这不能不说是一种遗憾。 [点击阅读]
茶花女
作者:佚名
章节:34 人气:0
摘要:玛格丽特原来是个贫苦的乡下姑娘,来到巴黎后,开始了卖笑生涯。由于生得花容月貌,巴黎的贵族公子争相追逐,成了红极一时的“社交明星”。她随身的装扮总是少不了一束茶花,人称“茶花女”。茶花女得了肺病,在接受矿泉治疗时,疗养院里有位贵族小姐,身材、长相和玛格丽特差不多,只是肺病已到了第三期,不久便死了。 [点击阅读]
草叶集
作者:佚名
章节:364 人气:0
摘要:作者:瓦尔特·惠特曼来吧,我的灵魂说,让我们为我的肉体写下这样的诗,(因为我们是一体,)以便我,要是死后无形地回来,或者离此很远很远,在别的天地里,在那里向某些同伙们再继续歌唱时,(合着大地的土壤,树木,天风,和激荡的海水,)我可以永远欣慰地唱下去,永远永远地承认这些是我的诗因为我首先在此时此地,代表肉体和灵魂,给它们签下我的名字。 [点击阅读]
荒原狼
作者:佚名
章节:9 人气:0
摘要:本书内容是一个我们称之为“荒原粮”的人留下的自述。他之所以有此雅号是因为他多次自称“荒原狼”。他的文稿是否需要加序,我们可以姑且不论;不过,我觉得需要在荒原狼的自述前稍加几笔,记下我对他的回忆。他的事儿我知道得很少;他过去的经历和出身我一概不知。可是,他的性格给我留下了强烈的印象,不管怎么说,我对他十分同情。荒原狼年近五十。 [点击阅读]
Copyright© 2006-2019. All Rights Reserved.