第 67 节
作者:温暖寒冬      更新:2024-04-09 19:50      字数:9155
  his    business”     and   who     had   great    lights  concerning       soils  and
  compost; but he was less of a favourite with Mrs。 Poyser; who had
  more than once said in confidence to her husband; “You’re mighty
  fond   o’   Craig;   but   for   my   part;   I   think   he’s   welly   like   a   cock   as
  thinks the sun’s rose o’ purpose to  hear  him   crow。” For  the   rest;
  Mr。 Craig was an estimable gardener; and was not without reasons
  for having a high  opinion   of  himself。   He  had also  high  shoulders
  and   high   cheek…bones   and   hung   his   head   forward   a   little;   as   he
  walked along with his hands in his breeches pockets。 I think it was
  his pedigree only that had the advantage of being Scotch; and not
  his   “bringing   up”;   for   except   that   he   had   a   stronger   burr   in   his
  accent; his speech differed little from that of the Loamshire people
  about     him。   But    a  gardener     is  Scotch;    as  a   French     teacher    is
  Parisian。
  “Well;   Mr。   Poyser;”   he   said;   before   the   good   slow   farmer   had
  time    to  speak;    “ye’ll  not   be   carrying    your   hay    to…morrow;     I’m
  thinking。   The   glass   sticks   at   ‘change;’   and   ye   may   rely   upo’   my
  word as we’ll ha’ more downfall afore twenty…four hours is past。 Ye
  see that darkish…blue cloud there upo’ the ’rizon—ye know what I
  mean by the ’rizon; where the land and sky seems to meet?”
  “Aye; aye; I see the cloud;” said Mr。 Poyser; “’rizon or no ’rizon。
  It’s right o’er Mike Holdsworth’s fallow; and a foul fallow it is。”
  “Well; you mark my words; as that cloud ’ull spread o’er the sky
  pretty nigh as quick as you’d spread a tarpaulin over one o’ your
  hay…ricks。   It’s a   great  thing  to  ha’ studied   the   look   o’   the   clouds。
  Lord     bless    you!   Th’    met’orological      almanecks       can   learn    me
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  nothing; but there’s a pretty sight o’ things I could let them up to; if
  they’d just come to me。 And how are you; Mrs。 Poyser?—thinking
  o’   getherin’   the   red   currants   soon;   I   reckon。   You’d   a   deal   better
  gether ’em afore they’re o’erripe; wi’ such weather as we’ve got to
  look     forward     to。  How     do   ye   do;   Mistress     Bede?”      Mr。    Craig
  continued;   without   a       pause;   nodding   by   the      way   to   Adam     and
  Seth。 “I hope y’ enjoyed them spinach and gooseberries as I sent
  Chester   with   th’   other   day。   If   ye   want   vegetables   while   ye’re   in
  trouble; ye know where to come to。 It’s well known I’m not giving
  other   folks’   things   away;   for   when   I’ve   supplied   the   house;   the
  garden s my own spekilation; and it isna every man th’ old squire
  could     get  as   ’ud  be   equil   to  the   undertaking;       let  alone   asking
  whether  he’d   be   willing  I’ve   got  to  run   my  calkilation   fine;   I   can
  tell   you;   to   make   sure   o’   getting   back   the   money   as     I   pay   the
  squire。     I  should   like   to   see   some   o’  them    fellows    as  make     the
  almanecks looking as far before their noses as I’ve got to do every
  year as comes。”
  “They   look   pretty   fur;   though;”   said   Mr。   Poyser;   turning   his
  head   on   one   side   and   speaking   in   rather   a   subdued   reverential
  tone。 “Why; what could come truer nor that pictur o’ the cock wi’
  the big spurs; as has got its head knocked down wi’ th’ anchor; an’
  th’   firin’; an’   the   ships behind?  Why;   that  pictur  was   made   afore
  Christmas;  and   yit  it’s come   as   true   as   th’   Bible。   Why;   th’   cock’s
  France;       an’    th’   anchor’s       Nelson—an’         they    told    us    that
  beforehand。”
  “Pee—ee…eh!” said Mr。 Craig。 “A man doesna want to see fur to
  know as th’ English ’ull beat the French。 Why; I   know  upo’   good
  authority   as   it’s   a   big   Frenchman   as   reaches   five   foot   high;   an’
  they live upo’ spoon…meat mostly。 I knew a man as his father had a
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  particular   knowledge   o’   the   French。   I   should   like   to   know   what
  them     grasshoppers        are   to  do   against    such   fine   fellows    as  our
  young Captain Arthur。 Why; it ’ud astonish a Frenchman   only  to
  look   at   him;   his   arm’s   thicker   nor   a   Frenchman’s   body;         I’ll  be
  bound; for they pinch theirsells in wi’ stays; and it’s easy enough;
  for they’ve got nothing i’ their insides。”
  “Where   IS   the   captain;   as   he   wasna   at   church   to…day?”   said
  Adam。 “I was talking to him o’ Friday; and he said nothing about
  his going away。”
  “Oh;   he’s   only   gone   to   Eagledale   for  a   bit   o’   fishing;   I   reckon
  he’ll be back again afore many days are o’er; for he’s to be at all th’
  arranging and preparing o’ things for the comin’ o’ age o’ the 30th
  o’ July。 But he’s fond o’ getting away for a bit; now and then。 Him
  and th’ old squire fit one another like frost and flowers。”
  Mr。    Craig    smiled     and   winked      slowly    as   he   made     this  last
  observation;   but   the   subject   was   not   developed   farther;   for   now
  they   had   reached   the   turning   in   the   road   where   Adam   and   his
  companions must say “good…bye。” The gardener; too; would have
  had   to  turn   off  in   the   same   direction   if   he   had   not   accepted   Mr。
  Poyser’s       invitation     to   tea。   Mrs。    Poyser      duly    seconded       the
  invitation; for she would have held it a deep disgrace not to make
  her neighbours welcome to her house: personal likes and dislikes
  must  not  interfere   with  that  sacred   custom。   Moreover;   Mr。   Craig
  had   always   been   full   of   civilities   to   the   family   at   the   Hall   Farm;
  and     Mrs。    Poyser     was    scrupulous       in   declaring     that   she    had
  “nothing      to   say  again’    him;    on’y   it  was   a  pity   he   couldna     be
  hatched o’er again; an’ hatched different。”
  So   Adam   and   Seth;   with   their   mother   between   them;   wound
  their way down to the valley and up again to the old house; where
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  a saddened memory had taken the place of a long; long anxiety—
  where      Adam     would     never    have    to  ask   again    as  he   entered;
  “Where’s Father?”
  And the other family party; with Mr。   Craig  for  company;   went
  back to the pleasant bright house…place at the Hall Farm—all with
  quiet minds; except Hetty; who knew now where Arthur was gone;
  but was only  the   more   puzzled  and   uneasy。   For  it  appeared   that
  his   absence     was    quite   voluntary;     he   need   not   have    gone—he
  would     not   have   gone   if  he   had   wanted     to   see  her。  She   had   a
  sickening sense that no lot could ever be pleasant to her  again   if
  her   Thursday   night’s   vision   was   not   to   be   fulfilled;   and   in   this
  moment       of  chill;  bare;   wintry    disappointment        and    doubt;    she
  looked     towards     the   possibility    of  being   with    Arthur    again;    of
  meeting   his   loving   glance;   and   hearing   his   soft   words   with   that
  eager yearning which one may call the “growing pain” of passion。
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  Chapter XIX
  Adam on a Working Day
  otwithstanding Mr。 Craig’s prophecy; the dark…blue cloud
  Ndispersed itself without having produced the threatened
  consequences。   “The   weather”—as   he   observed   the   next
  morning—“the weather; you see; ’s a ticklish thing; an’ a fool ’ull
  hit   on   ’t  sometimes     when     a  wise   man    misses;    that’s   why    the
  almanecks   get  so  much  credit。   It’s   one   o’   them   chancy   things   as
  fools thrive on。”
  This   unreasonable   behaviour   of   the   weather;   however;   could
  displease   n