改造英文Tennessee's Partner

2021年1月20日发(作者：ezio)

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Tennessee's Partner








































by Bret Harte

I do not think that we ever knew his real name. Our ignorance of it certainly
never
gave
us
any
social
inconvenience,
for
at
Sandy
Bar
in
1854
most
men
were christened anew. Sometimes these appellatives were derived from some
distinctiveness
of
dress,
as
in
the
case
of

Jack
or
from
some
peculiarity
of
habit,
as
shown
in

Bill,
so
called
from
an
undue
proportion
of
that
chemical
in
his
daily
bread;
or
for
some
unlucky
slip,
as
exhibited
in

Iron
Pirate,
a
mild,
inoffensive
man,
who
earned
that
baleful
title
by
his
unfortunate
mispronunciation
of
the
term

pyrites.
Perhaps
this
may
have
been
the
beginning
of
a
rude
heraldry;
but
I
am
constrained to think that it was because a man's real name in that day rested
solely upon his own unsupported statement.
said Boston, addressing a timid newcomer with infinite scorn;
such
Cliffords!
He
then
introduced
the
unfortunate
man,
whose
name
happened
to
be
really
Clifford,
as

Charley
unhallowed
inspiration of the moment that clung to him ever after.
But to return to Tennessee's Partner, whom we never knew by any other than
this
relative
title;
that
he
had
ever
existed
as
a
separate
and
distinct
individuality we only learned later. It seems that in 1853 he left Poker Flat to
go
to
San
Francisco,
ostensibly
to
procure
a
wife.
He
never
got
any
farther
than Stockton. At that place he was attracted by a young person who waited
upon
the
table
at
the
hotel
where
he
took
his
meals.
One
morning
he
said
something
to
her
which
caused
her
to
smile
not
unkindly,
to
somewhat
coquettishly break a plate of toast over his upturned, serious, simple face, and
to retreat to the kitchen. He followed her, and emerged a few moments later,
covered
with
more
toast
and
victory.
That
day
week
they
were
married
by
a
justice
of
the
peace,
and
returned
to
Poker
Flat.
I
am
aware
that
something
more might be made of this episode, but I prefer to tell it as it was current at
Sandy
Bar--in
the
gulches
and
barrooms--where
all
sentiment
was
modified
by a strong sense of humor.
Of
their
married
felicity
but
little
is
known,
perhaps
for
the
reason
that
Tennessee,
then
living
with
his
Partner,
one
day
took
occasion
to
say
something to the bride on his own account, at which, it is said, she smiled not
unkindly
and
chastely
retreated--
this
time
as
far
as
Marysville,
where
Tennessee followed her, and where they went to housekeeping without the aid
of a justice of the peace. Tennessee's Partner took the loss of his wife simply
and seriously, as was his fashion. But to everybody's surprise, when Tennessee
one
day
returned
from
Marysville,
without
his
Partner's
wife--she
having
smiled and retreated
with somebody else-- Tennessee's Partner was the first

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man
to
shake
his
hand
and
greet
him
with
affection.
The
boys
who
had
gathered
in
the
canyon
to
see
the
shooting
were
naturally
indignant.
Their
indignation
might
have
found
vent
in
sarcasm
but
for
a
certain
look
in
Tennessee's Partner's eye that indicated a lack of humorous appreciation. In
fact, he was a grave
man, with
a steady application to practical
detail which
was unpleasant in a difficulty.
Meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown up on the Bar. He
was known to be a gambler; he was suspected to be a thief. In these suspicions
Tennessee's
Partner
was
equally
compromised;
his
continued
intimacy
with
Tennessee
after
the
affair
above
quoted
could
only
be
accounted
for
on
the
hypothesis
of
a
copartnership
of
crime.
At
last
Tennessee's
guilt
became
flagrant. One day he overtook a stranger on his way to Red Dog. The stranger
afterward related that Tennessee beguiled the time with interesting anecdote
and
reminiscence,
but
illogically
concluded
the
interview
in
the
following
words:
your
money.
You
see
your
weppings
might
get
you
into
trouble
at
Red
Dog,
and
your
money's
a
temptation
to
the
evilly
disposed.
I
think
you
said
your
address was San Francisco. I shall endeavor to call.
Tennessee had a fine flow of humor, which no business preoccupation could
wholly subdue.
This exploit was his last. Red Dog and Sandy Bar made common cause against
the highwayman. Tennessee was hunted in very much the same fashion as his
prototype,
the
grizzly.
As
the
toils
closed
around
him,
he
made
a
desperate
dash through the Bar, emptying
his revolver at the
crowd before the Arcade
Saloon,
and
so
on
up
Grizzly
Canyon;
but
at
its
farther
extremity
he
was
stopped
by
a
small
man
on
a
gray
horse.
The
men
looked
at
each
other
a
moment in silence. Both were fearless, both self-possessed and independent;
and
both
types
of
a
civilization
that
in
the
seventeenth
century
would
have
been called heroic, but, in the nineteenth, simply
got there?--I call,
stranger, as quietly, showing two revolvers and a bowie knife.
returned
Tennessee;
and
with
this
gamblers'
epigram,
he
threw
away
his
useless pistol, and rode back with his captor.
It was a warm night. The cool breeze which usually sprang up with the going
down
of
the
sun
behind
the
chaparral-crested
mountain
was
that
evening
withheld from Sandy Bar. The little canyon was stifling with heated resinous
odors,
and
the
decaying
driftwood
on
the
Bar
sent
forth
faint,
sickening
exhalations.
The
feverishness
of
day,
and
its
fierce
passions,
still
filled
the
camp.
Lights
moved
restlessly
along
the
bank
of
the
river,
striking
no
answering reflection from its tawny current. Against the blackness of the pines
the windows of the old loft above the express office stood out staringly bright;
and through their curtainless panes the loungers below could see the forms of

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those who were even then deciding the fate of Tennessee. And above all this,
etched
on
the
dark
firmament,
rose
the
Sierra,
remote
and
passionless,
crowned with remoter passionless stars.
The trial of Tennessee was conducted as fairly as was consistent with a judge
and jury who felt themselves to some extent obliged to justify, in their verdict,
the previous irregularities of arrest and indictment. The law of Sandy Bar was
implacable, but not vengeful. The excitement and personal feeling of the chase
were
over;
with
Tennessee
safe
in
their
hands
they
were
ready
to
listen
patiently
to
any
defense,
which
they
were
already
satisfied
was
insufficient.
There
being
no
doubt
in
their
own
minds,
they
were
willing
to
give
the
prisoner the benefit of any that might exist. Secure in the hypothesis that he
ought
to
be
hanged,
on
general
principles,
they
indulged
him
with
more
latitude
of
defense
than
his
reckless
hardihood
seemed
to
ask.
The
Judge
appeared to be more anxious than the prisoner, who, otherwise unconcerned,
evidently
took
a
grim
pleasure
in
the
responsibility
he
had
created.

don't
take any hand in this
yer game,
his invariable but good-humored
reply
to
all
questions.
The
Judge-- who
was
also
his
captor--for
a
moment
vaguely
regretted
that
he
had
not
shot
him

sight
that
morning,
but
presently
dismissed
this
human
weakness
as
unworthy
of
the
judicial
mind.
Nevertheless,
when
there
was
a
tap
at
the
door,
and
it
was
said
that
Tennessee's Partner was there on behalf of the prisoner, he was admitted at
once without question. Perhaps the younger members of the jury, to whom the
proceedings were becoming irksomely thoughtful, hailed him as a relief.
For he was not, certainly, an imposing figure. Short and stout, with a square
face
sunburned
into
a
preternatural
redness,
clad
in
a
loose
duck

and
trousers
streaked
and
splashed
with
red
soil,
his
aspect
under
any
circumstances
would
have
been
quaint,
and
was
now
even
ridiculous.
As
he
stooped
to
deposit
at
his
feet
a
heavy
carpetbag
he
was
carrying,
it
became
obvious, from partially developed legends and inscriptions, that the material
with which his trousers had been patched had been originally intended for a
less ambitious covering. Yet he advanced with great gravity, and after having
shaken the hand of each person in the room with labored cordiality, he wiped
his
serious,
perplexed
face
on
a
red
bandanna
handkerchief,
a
shade
lighter
than his complexion, laid his powerful hand upon the table to steady himself,
and thus addressed the Judge:

and see how things was gittin' on with Tennessee thar-- my pardner. It's a hot
night. I disremember any sich weather before on the Bar.
He
paused
a
moment,
but
nobody
volunteering
any
other
meteorological
recollection, he again had recourse to his pocket handkerchief, and for some
moments mopped his face diligently.

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it,
said
Tennessee's
Partner,
in
a
tone
of
relief.

come
yar
as
Tennessee's pardner--knowing him nigh on four year, off and on, wet and dry,
in luck and out o' luck. His ways ain't allers my ways, but thar ain't any p'ints
in that young man, thar ain't any liveliness as he's been up to, as I don't know.
And you sez to me, sez you-- confidential-like, and between man and man--sez
you,
'Do
you
know
anything
in
his
behalf?'
and
I
sez
to
you,
sez
I--
confidential- like, as between man and man--'What should a man know of his
pardner?'

this
all
you
have
to
say?
asked
the
Judge
impatiently,
feeling,
perhaps,
that a dangerous sympathy of humor was beginning to humanize the Court.

so,
continued
Tennessee's
Partner.

ain't
for
me
to
say
anything
agin' him. And now, what's the case? Here's Tennessee wants money, wants it
bad, and doesn't like to ask it of his old pardner. Well, what does Tennessee do?
He lays for a stranger, and he fetches that stranger. And you lays for HIM, and
you
fetches
HIM;
and
the
honors
is
easy.
And
I
put
it
to
you,
bein'
a
far-minded man, and to you, gentlemen, all, as far-minded men, ef this isn't
so.

said the Judge, interrupting,
man?

To
come
down
to
the
bedrock,
it's
just
this:
Tennessee,
thar,
has
played
it
pretty rough and expensive- like on a stranger, and on this yer camp. And now,
what's
the
fair
thing?
Some
would
say
more;
some
would
say
less.
Here's
seventeen
hundred
dollars
in
coarse
gold
and
a
watch--it's
about
all
my
pile--and call it square!
had emptied the contents of the carpetbag upon the table.
For a moment his life was in jeopardy. One or two men sprang to their feet,
several
hands
groped
for
hidden
weapons,
and
a
suggestion
to

him
from
the
window
was
only
overridden
by
a
gesture
from
the
Judge.
Tennessee
laughed.
And
apparently
oblivious
of
the
excitement,
Tennessee's
Partner
improved
the
opportunity
to
mop
his
face
again
with
his
handkerchief.
When order was restored, and the man was made to understand, by the use of
forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee's offense could not be condoned
by
money,
his
face
took
a
more
serious
and
sanguinary
hue,
and
those
who
were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembled slightly on the table.
He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned the gold to the carpetbag, as if