最后英语怎么说-dipper
Unit1
1.A Day's Wait
E. Hemingway
He came into the room to shut the windows
while we were still in bed and I saw he looked
ill. He
was shivering, his face was white, and
he walked slowly as though it ached to move.
But when I came downstairs he was
dressed, sitting by the fire, looking a very sick
and miserable
boy of nine years. When I put my
hand on his forehead I knew he had a fever.
When the doctor came be took the boy's
temperature.
and two.
Downstairs, the
doctor left three different medicines in different
colored capsules with instructio
n for giving
them. One was to bring down the fever, another a
purgative, the third to overcome a
n acid
condition. The germs of influenza can only exist
in an acid condition, he explained. He see
med
to know all about influenza and said there was
nothing to worry about if the fever did not go
above one hundred and four degrees. This was a
light epidemic of flu and there was no danger if
you avoided pneumonia.
Back in the room I
wrote the boy's temperature down and made a note
of the time to give the va
rious capsules.
his eyes. He lay still in the bed and
seemed very detached from what was going on.
I read aloud from Howard Pyle's Book of
pirates; but I could see he was not following what
I was r
eading.
I sat at the foot of
the bed and read to myself while I waited for it
to be time to give another caps
ule. It would
have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when
I looked up he was looking at the
foot of the
bed, looking very strangely.
After a
while he said to me,
I though perhaps
he was a little lightheaded and after giving him
the prescribed capsules at eleve
n o'clock I
went out for a while. It was a bright, cold day,
the ground covered with a sleet that had
frozen so that it seemed as if all the bare trees,
the bushes, the cut brush and all the grass and
th
e bare ground had been varnished with
ice, I took the young Irish setter for a walk up
the road an
d along a frozen creek, but it was
difficult to stand or walk on the glassy surface
and the red dog s
lipped and slithered and I
fell twice, hard, once dropping my gun and having
it slide away over the
ice.
We flushed a
covey of quail under a high clay bank with
overhanging brush and I killed two as the
y
went out of sight over the top of the blank. Some
of the covey lit in trees, but most of them
scat
tered into brush piles and it was
necessary to jump on the ice-coated mounds of
brush several ti
mes before they would flush.
Coming out while you were poised unsteadily on the
icy, springy br
ush they made difficult
shooting and I killed two, missed five, and
started back pleased to have fo
und a covey
close to the house and happy there were so many
left to find on another day.
At the house
they said the boy had refused to let anyone come
into the room.
I went up to him and found
him in exactly the position I had left him, white-
faced, but with the to
ps of his cheeks flushed
by the fever, staring still, as he had stared, at
the foot of the bed.
I took his temperature.
can't keep from
thinking.
f about something.
I
sat down and opened the Pirate book and commenced
to read, but I could see he was not follo
wing,
so I stooped.
d two.
. At
school in France the boys told me you can't live
with forty-four degrees. I've got a hundred
an
d two.
He had been waiting to die all
day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.
hat's different thermometer. On that
thermometer thirty-seven is normal. On this kind
it's ninety-
eight.
when we do
seventy miles in the car?
But his gaze at
the foot of the bed relaxed slowly. The hold over
himself relaxed too, finally, and th
e next day
it was very slack and he cried very easily at
little things that were of no importance.
1.一天的等待
我们还没起床时，走进房间关窗，我注意到他看起来病了。他颤抖着，脸色
苍白，走得很慢，
似乎一动就疼。 “怎么了，我的宝贝”
“我头疼”
“你最好回去睡觉。” “不，我没事”
“你睡觉去，我穿好衣服去看你”
等我下了楼，他已经穿好了衣服，坐在火炉旁，看起来就
是一个病的不轻很痛苦的九岁男孩。
我把手放在他的额头上。知道他在发烧。
“上楼睡觉去，”我说“你病了” “我没事，”他说。
医生来了，良好了孩子的体温。
“多少度？”我问。 “102”
下了楼，医生留下了三种不同颜色胶囊的药，并告知如何服用。一
种是退烧的，一种是泻药，
另一种是用来去酸的。流感菌只能在酸性环境中生存，他解释说。他们似乎对
流感无所不知，
说如果没烧到104度以上，就没什么可担心的。这不过是流感轻微症状，如果避免了肺
炎就
没有危险。
回到屋里，我写下孩子的温度，记下了服用各种药的时间。
“想让我给你念点什么吗？”
“恩，如果你愿意，”孩子说，他的脸苍白，眼窝下有黑晕。
他静静地躺在床上，对发生的
一切漠不关心。
我大声的朗读着霍华德.派尔的《海盗的故事》，但我看得出他没有在听我读什么。
“你感觉
怎么样了，宝贝？”我问他。 “现在还那样，”他说。
我坐在床脚，等着他服用
另一种胶囊，自己看了一会儿书，正常来说，他该入睡了。可我抬
起头时，他正盯着床脚，看上去很怪异
。
“你为什么不睡呢？吃药时我会叫醒你的” “我宁可醒着。”
过了一会，他对我说，“爸，如果这样打搅你，你不必和我在一起。” “这不打搅我”
“不是，我是说如果这将打搅你，你不比待着。”
我想或许他有点神志不清，11点钟给他
服过开出的药后，我出去了一会。这是一个晴朗而
寒冷的日子，地上覆盖着雨水结成的冰。看上去好像所
有光秃秃的树，灌木丛，砍下的树枝，
所有的草和空地都用冰漆过似地。我带着那条幼小的爱尔兰猎犬上
了路，沿着一条结冰的小
溪走着，但是站立行走在这玻璃般的路面上真不容易。红毛狗
又是跃又是滑，我重重的摔
倒了两次，一次还摔掉了枪，枪在冰面上滑出老远。
我们从被垂
着的树枝掩盖着的一个高高的土堤下惊起了一群鹌鹑。当它们从堤顶上飞出来
时，我打死了两只，但大部
分都飞散进了灌木丛里。要想惊起这些鹌鹑，得在被冰包裹着的
树丛上跳上好几次。但还没等你在这又滑
又有弹性的树丛上站稳，它们已经飞了出去，很难
击中，我打中两只，五只飞掉了。回去的路上，我很高
兴地发现离家不远有一群鹌鹑，改日
可以再去猎取。
回到家，他们说孩子不让任何人进房间。
我上楼去看他，发现他还是我离开时的那个姿势，
脸苍白，上颊烧得发红，仍象早上那样盯
着床脚。
我量了量他的体温。 “几度”
“大约100度，”我说。102.4度。 “102吧，”他说。 “谁说的？” “医生。”
“你的温度没什么，”我说“不必害怕” “我不害怕，”他说，“但我忍不住要想。”
“别想
了，”我说，“别紧张”
“我不紧张，”他说，直看着前方，虽然他有心事，但在努力克制着自己。“ 把这水喝了”“
你
觉得这会有用吗？” “当然了。”
我坐下来，打开《海盗故事》，开始读起来，但我看得出他没在听，所以我停了下来。
“你
觉得我大概什么时候会死？”他问。 “什么”
“大约多长时间我就要死” “你不会死的，你怎么了？”
“噢，不，我会死的，我听见医生说102度了” “烧到102度，人不会死的。这话真傻。”
“我知道会的，在法国学校里，伙伴们告诉我，44度人就不能活的，我已经102度了。”
从
早上9点起，整天他都在等着死亡。
“可怜的宝贝，”我说，“可怜的宝贝。这就像英里
和公里一样，你不会死的，那是一种不同
的温度计量。用那种计量法37度是正常的温度，这种则是98
度。”
“你肯定吗？”
“绝对肯定，”我说，“这就像英里和公里，你知道乘汽车70英里相当于多少公里？”
“噢，”他说
但是他对床脚的盯视逐渐松弛了下来。他不在控制自己了。终于，第二天他更
加松弛了，有
什么大不了的事情他都会很容易的哭出来。
2. The Open Window
After Saki
ge;
Frampton Nettle
tried to say something which would please the
niece now present, without ann
oying the aunt
that was about to come. He was supposed to be
going through a cure for his nerve
s, but he
doubted whether these polite visits to a number of
total strangers would help much.
know how it
will be,
will lose yourself down there and not
speak to a living soul, and your nerves will be
worse than e
ver through loneliness. I shall
just give you letters of introduction to all the
people I know there. S
ome of them, as far as I
can remember, were quite nice.
Frampton
wondered whether Mrs. Sappleton, the lady to whom
he was bringing one of the lette
rs of
introduction, one of the nice ones.
d
sat long enough in silence.
he gave me
letters of introduction to some of the people
here.
sad voice.
as married
perhaps she had been married and her husband was
dead. But there was something o
f a man in the
room.
me.
y.
e,
pointing to a long window that opened like a door
on to the grass outside.
do with
your aunt's sorrow?
nt off for their
day's shooting. They never came back. In crossing
the country to the shooting-grou
nd they were
all three swallowed in a bog. It had been that
terrible wet summer, you know, and p
laces that
were safe in other years became suddenly
dangerous. Their bodies were never found. T
hat
was the worst part of it.
.
as lost with
them, and walk in at that window just as they used
to do. That is why the window is k
ept open
every evening till it is quite dark. Poor dear
aunt, she has often told me how they went
out,
her husband with his white coat over his arm, and
Ronnie, her youngest brother, singing a so
ng,
as he always did to annoy her, because she said it
affected her nerves. Do you know, sometim
es on
quiet evenings like this, I almost get a strange
feeling that they will all walk in through the
w
indow--
She stopped and trembled. It was
a relief to Frampton when the aunt came busily
into the room
and apologized for being late.
rs will be home soon from
shooting, and they always come in this way.
They've been shooting bir
ds today near the
bog, so they'll make my poor carpets dirty. All
you men do that sort of thing, do
n't you?
She talked on cheerfully about the shooting and
the scarcity of birds, and the hopes of shooting
i
n the winter. To Frampton it was all quite
terrible. He made a great effort, which was only
partly s
uccessful, to turn the talk on to a
more cheerful subject. He was conscious that his
hostess was gi
ving him only a part of her
attention, and her eyes were frequently looking
past him to the open
window and the grass
beyond. It was certainly unfortunate that he
should have paid his visit on t
his sorrowful
day.
ampton, who had the common
idea that total strangers want to know the least
detail of one's illn
esses, their cause and
cure.
nued.
t to what Frampton was
saying.
dy up to the eyes!
Frampton trembled slightly and turned towards the
niece with a look intended to show sympat
hetic
understanding. The child was looking out through
the open window with fear in her eyes. W
ith a
shock Frampton turned round in his seat and looked
in the same direction.
In the increasing
darkness three figures were walking across the
grass towards the window they
all carried guns
under their arms, and one of them had also a white
coat hung over his shoulders.
A tired brown
dog kept close at their heels. Noiselessly they
drew near to the house, and then a
young voice
started to sing in the darkness.
Frampton
wildly seized his hat and stick; he ran out
through the front door and through the
gat
e. He nearly ran into a man on a
bicycle.
muddy, but most of it's dry.
Who was that who ran out as we came up?
esses, and ran off without a word of good-bye
or apology when you arrived. One would think he
had seen a ghost.
once hunted into a
graveyard somewhere in India by a lot of wild
dogs, and had to spend the nig
ht in a newly-
dug grave with the creatures just above him.
Enough to make anyone lose their nerv
e.
She
was very clever at making up stories quickly.
2.敞开的窗户
“努特尔先生，我婶婶很快就回来了，”一个颇自负的十五岁小姑娘说道，“
那时候您可得
多包涵点。”
弗兰顿．努特尔设法说上几句阿谀的话，恭维一下
这位侄女和那位很快就回家的婶婶。
他越来越疑心，对这么一大群毫不相识的人作正式拜访，于他的正在
治疗的神经病究竟有何
益处？
当他做好准备到乡下去时，姐姐对他说：“我看
，你要是老不合群，不跟人打交道，整
天在家郁闷，病情会越来越严重。我写封信，给你带去，和那边我
的熟人认识。我记得他们
当中有不少热情的好人。”
弗兰顿想：萨伯莱顿夫人——就是他正在拜访的这位女主人——是不是也在“好人”之
列呢？
小侄女觉得他们静坐太久了，于是打破沉默，问道：“这儿的人您认识多不多？”
“几乎没一个，”弗兰顿道，“我姐姐在邻近的教区长家里住过，那可能是四年前的事情。
她给我信，让
我和这儿的人认识。”
说完，他不可掩饰地流露出后悔的心情。
“这么说，您一点也不知道我婶婶的事啦？”自负的少女又问道。
弗兰顿承认：“我只知道
她的名字和地址。”他不知道萨伯莱顿的丈夫是否还健在，但屋
子里的摆设使他觉得夫人不可能是个寡妇
。
“她有个大大的悲剧，发生在三年前，”女孩说，“那时候您姐姐已经搬走了。”
“大
悲剧？”弗兰顿反问。在这个幽寂僻静的小乡村，“悲剧”一词根本不可思议。
“您不觉得奇怪，为啥这样冷的十月天气，下午我们还把窗户敞开着？”侄女手指向一
扇开向草坪的巨大
落地玻璃窗。
“是啊。这时节，天气已经有点凉意了，”弗兰顿道，“但这窗户跟你婶婶的悲剧有什么
关系呢？”
“刚好是三年前的今天，她丈夫和两个弟弟从这窗户前走过，去打猎。他们再也没有回
来。在穿过沼泽地到他们最中意的水鹭狩猎场时，三个人被一片险恶的泥沼吞没了。您知道
吗，那个阴雨
连绵的可恶的夏天，林子里原先安全的道路神不知鬼不觉陷进了泥沼。时至今
日，三个人的尸体还没找到
，真可怕！”
讲到这，姑娘的声音不再像原来那么平静安详了，她支支唔唔地说：
“可怜的婶婶还一直认为他们有一天会回来，他们三个和一条棕色小长耳狗——它也不
见了——就像以往那样，从这扇窗户走过。就为这，每天傍晚窗户都开着，一直开到天黑得
见不着人面。
可怜的婶婶，她老是对我讲起他们是怎样走出去的。丈夫臂上搭着一件白色的
雨衣，最小的弟弟隆尼，哼
着一支歌 ‘噢，伯特利，你为何蹦蹦跳跳？’。他总是这样拿她
开心，因为婶婶说过，
这支歌令她心神不安。你知道吗？有时候，比如说像现在这样安宁寂
寞的傍晚，一想到他们随时会从那窗
户走进来，我就浑身起鸡皮疙瘩。” 她停了，打了个
冷颤，弗兰顿也不觉一哆嗦。
弗兰顿终于松了一口气：谢天谢地，婶婶回家了。
婶婶匆匆忙忙走进屋子，一边连声道歉：“让客人久等了。”
她说：“我想，维拉——
女孩的名字——没冷落您吧？”
弗兰顿答道：“她倒是个很有趣的孩子。”
萨伯莱顿夫人说：“我想，您不会介意这扇
打开的窗户吧？我丈夫和兄弟打猎马上就回
来了，他们总是从这条路走来，他们把我可怜的地毯搞得一塌
糊涂。男人们总是这样，不是
吗？”
她兴致勃勃地唠叨起打猎的事情，没有鸟啦，冬天的野鸭如何如何啦，等等，等
等。
这对弗兰顿来说简直太可怕了，他作了一番巨大努力，竭力把话题转到不那么耸听的事
情上。但他马上明
白，女主人对其它话题一点也不感兴趣，她的眼光不时从他身上溜到那扇
敞开的窗户和外面的草坪上。
在这个悲剧的周年日来访，真是不合时宜！
“医生们一致认为我应该
好好休息，避免精神过度兴奋和激烈的体育运动，”弗兰顿煞
有介事地说。像许多人一样，他也自以为陌
生人或偶然相识者对他的疾病的每一细节、发病
原因、医疗过程等会大感兴趣。
“但在如何节食方面，他们的意见就分歧了，”他继续说。
“是吗？”萨伯莱顿夫人
说完打个哈欠。
突然，她容光焕发——并非为弗兰顿的故事所吸引。
“他们终于回来了！”她喊道，“又是
准准地在喝午茶的时候。您还没见过他们浑身泥巴，
连眼睛也脏兮兮的样子呢！”
弗兰顿又轻轻地颤抖起来，他转向侄女，眼里含着祈求同情理解的神色。那小姑娘两眼
直盯着窗外，表情
恐惧。弗兰顿在座椅里不安地扭动，朝她目光的方向望去，一阵莫名的冰
冷恐怖感控制了他。
朦胧暮色中，三个人影越过草坪向窗户走来，腋下都夹着猎枪，有一个肩膀搭挂着一件
白色雨衣，一只疲乏的棕色长耳狗紧跟在脚边，他们不声不响地走近房子。随后有个青年人
嘶哑的嗓子在
黄昏里唱道：
“噢，伯特利，你为何蹦蹦跳跳？”
弗兰顿发疯似地抓起手
杖和帽子，急如风火，慌不择路地从厅门、便道和大门逃出去。
一个过路的骑车者为避免压到他，一下子
撞到路旁的绿篱上。
“亲爱的，我们回来了，”那个带着白雨衣的男人走近窗户，说，
“全身都脏死了，简直
像陷到泥沼里一样。咦，刚才冲出去的那人是谁？”
“一个
怪人，一个名叫努特尔的先生，”萨伯莱顿夫人说，“他只会讲些关于他的神经病
的事，看见你们回来，
他一句再见也没说就一溜烟跑掉了。人家还以为他见了鬼呢！ ”
“我想都是因为那条
狗，”小姑娘平静地说，“他告诉我他很怕狗。在印度恒河边时，有
一回他被一对野狗赶到公墓地，只好
跳进一口新挖的墓穴里过了一夜。那两只怪物在他头上
狺狺吠叫，呲着牙，冒着唾沫。谁碰上这么一回都
会被吓掉了魂。”
毫不费劲地信口编造个故事，是她的拿手好戏。