english stories-london-第12部分

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deceived　them；　and　put　the　very　worst　construction　upon　everything。

Even　now　I　writhe　impotently　at　times；　and　my　cheeks　smart　and　tingle

with　humiliation；　as　I　recall　that　scenethe　colonel's　very　plain

speaking；　Lilian's　passionate　reproaches　and　contempt；　and　her　aunt's

speechless　prostration　of　disappointment。



I　made　no　attempt　to　defend　myself；　I　was　not；　perhaps；　the　complete

villain　they　deemed　me；　but　I　felt　dully　that　no　doubt　it　all　served

me　perfectly　right。



Still　I　do　not　think　I　am　under　any　obligation　to　put　their　remarks

down　in　black　and　white　here。



Travers　had　vanished　at　the　first　opportunitywhether　out　of

delicacy；　or　the　fear　of　breaking　out　into　unseasonable　mirth；　I

cannot　say；　and　shortly　afterward　the　others　came　to　where　I　sat

silent　with　bowed　head；　and　bade　me　a　stern　and　final　farewell。



And　then；　as　the　last　gleam　of　Lilian's　white　dress　vanished　down　the

garden　path；　I　laid　my　head　down　on　the　table　among　the　coffee…cups；

and　cried　like　a　beaten　child。







I　got　leave　as　soon　as　I　could；　and　went　abroad。　The　morning　after　my

return　I　noticed；　while　shaving；　that　there　was　a　small　square　marble

tablet　placed　against　the　wall　of　the　colonel's　garden。　I　got　my

opera…glass　and　readand　pleasant　reading　it　wasthe　following

inscription：



IN　AFFECTIONATE　MEMORY



OF



B　I　N　G　O；



SECRETLY　AND　CRUELLY　PUT　TO　DEATH；



IN　COLD　BLOOD；



BY　A



NEIGHBOUR　AND　FRIEND。



JUNE；　1881。



If　this　explanation　of　mine　ever　reaches　my　neighbours'　eyes；　I　humbly

hope　they　will　have　the　humanity　either　to　take　away　or　tone　down　that

tablet。　They　cannot　conceive　what　I　suffer　when　curious　visitors

insist；　as　they　do　every　day；　on　spelling　out　the　words　from　our

windows；　and　asking　me　countless　questions　about　them！



Sometimes　I　meet　the　Curries　about　the　village；　and　as　they　pass　me

with　averted　heads　I　feel　myself　growing　crimson。　Travers　is　almost

always　with　Lilian　now。　He　has　given　her　a　dog；a　fox…terrier；and

they　take　ostentatiously　elaborate　precautions　to　keep　it　out　of　my

garden。



I　should　like　to　assure　them　here　that　they　need　not　be　under　any

alarm。　I　have　shot　one　dog。







THAT　BRUTE　SIMMONS



BY



ARTHUR　MORRISON







Simmons's　infamous　behaviour　toward　his　wife　is　still　matter　for

profound　wonderment　among　the　neighbours。　The　other　women　had　all

along　regarded　him　as　a　model　husband；　and　certainly　Mrs。　Simmons　was

a　most　conscientious　wife。　She　toiled　and　slaved　for　that　man；　as　any

woman　in　the　whole　street　would　have　maintained；　far　more　than　any

husband　had　a　right　to　expect。　And　now　this　was　what　she　got　for　it。

Perhaps　he　had　suddenly　gone　mad。



Before　she　married　Simmons；　Mrs。　Simmons　had　been　the　widowed　Mrs。

Ford。　Ford　had　got　a　berth　as　donkeyman　on　a　tramp　steamer；　and　that

steamer　had　gone　down　with　all　hands　off　the　Cape：　a　judgment；　the

widow　woman　feared；　for　long　years　of　contumacy；　which　had　culminated

in　the　wickedness　of　taking　to　the　sea；　and　taking　to　it　as　a

donkeymanan　immeasurable　fall　for　a　capable　engine…fitter。　Twelve

years　as　Mrs。　Ford　had　left　her　still　childless；　and　childless　she

remained　as　Mrs。　Simmons。



As　for　Simmons；　he；　it　was　held；　was　fortunate　in　that　capable　wife。

He　was　a　moderately　good　carpenter　and　joiner；　but　no　man　of　the

world；　and　he　wanted　one。　Nobody　could　tell　what　might　not　have

happened　to　Tommy　Simmons　if　there　had　been　no　Mrs。　Simmons　to　take

care　of　him。　He　was　a　meek　and　quiet　man；　with　a　boyish　face　and

sparse；　limp　whiskers。　He　had　no　vices　（even　his　pipe　departed　him

after　his　marriage）；　and　Mrs。　Simmons　had　ingrafted　on　him　divers

exotic　virtues。　He　went　solemnly　to　chapel　every　Sunday；　under　a　tall

hat；　and　put　a　pennyone　returned　to　him　for　the　purpose　out　of　his

week's　wagesin　the　plate。　Then；　Mrs。　Simmons　overseeing；　he　took　off

his　best　clothes；　and　brushed　them　with　solicitude　and　pains。　On

Saturday　afternoons　he　cleaned　the　knives；　the　forks；　the　boots；　the

kettles；　and　the　windows；　patiently　and　conscientiously；　on　Tuesday

evenings　he　took　the　clothes　to　the　mangling；　and　on　Saturday　nights

he　attended　Mrs。　Simmons　in　her　marketing；　to　carry　the　parcels。



Mrs。　Simmons's　own　virtues　were　native　and　numerous。　She　was　a

wonderful　manager。　Every　penny　of　Tommy's　thirty…six　or　thirty…eight

shillings　a　week　was　bestowed　to　the　greatest　advantage；　and　Tommy

never　ventured　to　guess　how　much　of　it　she　saved。　Her　cleanliness　in

housewifery　was　distracting　to　behold。　She　met　Simmons　at　the　front

door　whenever　he　came　home；　and　then　and　there　he　changed　his　boots

for　slippers；　balancing　himself　painfully　on　alternate　feet　on　the

cold　flags。　This　was　because　she　scrubbed　the　passage　and　door…step

turn　about　with　the　wife　of　the　downstairs　family；　and　because　the

stair…carpet　was　her　own。　She　vigilantly　supervised　her　husband　all

through　the　process　of　〃cleaning　himself〃　after　work；　so　as　to　come

between　her　walls　and　the　possibility　of　random　splashes；　and　if；　in

spite　of　her　diligence；　a　spot　remained　to　tell　the　tale；　she　was　at

pains　to　impress　the　fact　on　Simmons's　memory；　and　to　set　forth　at

length　all　the　circumstances　of　his　ungrateful　selfishness。　In　the

beginning　she　had　always　escorted　him　to　the　ready…made　clothes　shop；

and　had　selected　and　paid　for　his　clothes；　for　the　reason　that　men　are

such　perfect　fools；　and　shopkeepers　do　as　they　like　with　them。　But　she

presently　improved　on　that。　She　found　a　man　selling　cheap　remnants　at

a　street…corner；　and　straightway　she　conceived　the　idea　of　making

Simmons's　clothes　herself。　Decision　was　one　of　her　virtues；　and　a　suit

of　uproarious　check　tweeds　was　begun　that　afternoon　from　the　pattern

furnished　by　an　old　one。　More：　it　was　finished　by　Sunday；　when

Simmons；　overcome　by　astonishment　at　the　feat；　was　endued　in　it；　and

pushed　off　to　chapel　ere　he　could　recover　his　senses。　The　things　were

not　altogether　comfortable；　he　found：　the　trousers　hung　tight　against

his　shins；　but　hung　loose　behind　his　heels；　and　when　he　sat；　it　was　on

a　wilderness　of　hard　folds　and　seams。　Also；　his　waistcoat　collar

tickled　his　nape；　but　his　coat　collar　went　straining　across　from

shoulder　to　shoulder；　while　the　main　garment　bagged　generously　below

his　waist。　Use　made　a　habit　of　his　discomfort；　but　it　never　reconciled

him　to　the　chaff　of　his　shopmates；　for；　as　Mrs。　Simmons　elaborated

successive　suits；　each　one　modelled　on　the　last；　the　primal　accidents

of　her　design　developed　into　principles；　and　grew　even　bolder　and　more

hideously　pronounced。　It　was　vain　for　Simmons　to　hintas　hint　he　did

that　he　shouldn't　like　her　to　overwork　herself；　tailoring　being　bad

for　the　eyes；　and　there　was　a　new　tailor's　in　the　Mile　End　Road；　very

cheap；　where　。　。　。　〃Ho　yus；〃　she　retorted；　〃you're　very　consid'rit　I

dessay　sittin'　there　actin'　a　livin'　lie　before　your　own　wife　Thomas

Simmons　as　though　I　couldn't　see　through　you　like　a　book　a　lot　you

care　about　overworkin'　me　as　long　as　/your/　turn's　served　throwin'

away　money　like　dirt　in　the　street　on　a　lot　o'　swindlin'　tailors　an'

me　workin'　and'　slavin'　'ere　to　save　a　'a'penny　an'　this　is　my　return

for　it　any　one　'ud　think　you　could　pick　up　money　in　the　'orse…road　an'

I　b'lieve　I'd　be　thought　better　of　if　I　laid　in　bed　all　day　like　some

would　that　I　do。〃　So　that　Thomas　Simmons　avoided　the　subject；　nor　even

murmured　when　she　resolved　to　cut　his　hair。



So　his　placid　fortune　endured　for　years。　Then　there　came　a　golden

summer　evening　when　Mrs。　Simmons　betook　herself　with　a　basket　to　do

some　small　shopping；　and　Simmons　was　left　at　home。　He　washed　and　put

away　the　tea…things；　and　then　he　fell　to　meditating　on　a　new　pair　of

trousers；　finished　that　day；　and　hanging　behind　the　parlour　door。

There　they　hung；　in　all　their　decent　innocence　of　shape　in　the　seat；

and　they　were　shorter　of　leg；　longer　of　waist；　and　wilder　of　pattern

than　he　had　ever　worn　before。　And　as　he　looked　on　them　the　small　devil

of　Original　Sin　awoke　and　clamoured　in　his　breast。　He　was　ashamed　of

it；　of　course；　for　well　he　knew　the　gratitude　he　owed　his　wife　for

those　same　trousers；　among　other　blessings。　Still；　there　the　small

devil　was；　and　the　small　devil　was　fertile　in　base　suggestions；　and

could　not　be　kept　from　hinting　at　the　new　crop　of　workshop　gibes　that

would　spring　at　Tommy's　first　public　appearance　in　such　things。



〃Pitch　'em　in　the　dust…bin！〃　said　the　small　devil　at　last。　〃It's　all

they're　fit　for。〃



Simmons　turned　away　in　sheer　horror　of　his　wicked　self；　and　for　a

moment　thought　of　washing　the　tea…things　over　again　by　way　of

discipline。　Then　he　made　for　the　back　room；　but　saw　from　the　landing

that　the　front　door　was　standing　open；　probably　the　fault　of　the　child

downstairs。　Now　a　front　door　standing　open　was　a　thing　that　Mrs。

Simmons　would　/not/　abide：　it　looked　low。　So　Simmons　went　down；　that

she　might　not　be　wroth　with　him　for　the