The Eggby Sherwood Anderson中英对照Word文档格式.docx
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[1876-1941]MYFATHERwas,Iamsure,intendedbynaturetobeacheerful,kindlyman.Untilhewasthirty-fouryearsoldheworkedasafarmhandforamannamedThomasButterworthwhoseplacelaynearthetownofBidwell,Ohio.HehadthenahorseofhisownandonSaturdayeveningsdroveintotowntospendafewhoursinsocialintercoursewithotherfarmhands.IntownhedrankseveralglassesofbeerandstoodaboutinBenHead'
ssaloon--crowdedonSaturdayeveningswithvisitingfarmhands.Songsweresungandglassesthumpedonthebar.Atteno'
clockfatherdrovehomealongalonelycountryroad,madehishorsecomfortableforthenightandhimselfwenttobed,quitehappyinhispositioninlife.Hehadatthattimenonotionoftryingtoriseintheworld.
Itwasinthespringofhisthirty-fifthyearthatfathermarriedmymother,thenacountryschoolteacher,andinthefollowingspringIcamewrigglingandcryingintotheworld.Somethinghappenedtothetwopeople.Theybecameambitious.TheAmericanpassionforgettingupintheworldtookpossessionofthem.
Itmayhavebeenthatmotherwasresponsible.Beingaschoolteachershehadnodoubtreadbooksandmagazines.Shehad,Ipresume,readofhowGarfield,Lincoln,andotherAmericansrosefrompovertytofameandgreatnessandasIlaybesideher--inthedaysofherlying-in--shemayhavedreamedthatIwouldsomedayrulemenandcities.Atanyratesheinducedfathertogiveuphisplaceasafarmhand,sellhishorseandembarkonanindependententerpriseofhisown.Shewasatallsilentwomanwithalongnoseandtroubledgreyeyes.Forherselfshewantednothing.Forfatherandmyselfshewasincurablyambitious.
Thefirstventureintowhichthetwopeoplewentturnedoutbadly.TheyrentedtenacresofpoorstonylandonGriggs'
sRoad,eightmilesfromBidwell,andlaunchedintochickenraising.Igrewintoboyhoodontheplaceandgotmyfirstimpressionsoflifethere.Fromthebeginningtheywereimpressionsofdisasterandif,inmyturn,Iamagloomymaninclinedtoseethedarkersideoflife,Iattributeittothefactthatwhatshouldhavebeenformethehappyjoyousdaysofchildhoodwerespentonachickenfarm.
Oneunversedinsuchmatterscanhavenonotionofthemanyandtragicthingsthatcanhappentoachicken.Itisbornoutofanegg,livesforafewweeksasatinyfluffythingsuchasyouwillseepicturedonEastercards,thenbecomeshideouslynaked,eatsquantitiesofcornandmealboughtbythesweatofyourfather'
sbrow,getsdiseasescalledpip,cholera,andothernames,standslookingwithstupideyesatthesun,becomessickanddies.Afewhensandnowandthenarooster,intendedtoserveGod'
smysteriousends,strugglethroughtomaturity.Thehenslayeggsoutofwhichcomeotherchickensandthedreadfulcycleisthusmadecomplete.Itisallunbelievablycomplex.Mostphilosophersmusthavebeenraisedonchickenfarms.Onehopesforsomuchfromachickenandissodreadfullydisillusioned.Smallchickens,justsettingoutonthejourneyoflife,looksobrightandalertandtheyareinfactsodreadfullystupid.Theyaresomuchlikepeopletheymixoneupinone'
sjudgmentsoflife.Ifdiseasedoesnotkillthemtheywaituntilyourexpectationsarethoroughlyarousedandthenwalkunderthewheelsofawagon--togosquashedanddeadbacktotheirmaker.Vermininfesttheiryouth,andfortunesmustbespentforcurativepowders.InlaterlifeIhaveseenhowaliteraturehasbeenbuiltuponthesubjectoffortunestobemadeoutoftheraisingofchickens.Itisintendedtobereadbythegodswhohavejusteatenofthetreeoftheknowledgeofgoodandevil.Itisahopefulliteratureanddeclaresthatmuchmaybedonebysimpleambitiouspeoplewhoownafewhens.Donotbeledastraybyit.Itwasnotwrittenforyou.GohuntforgoldonthefrozenhillsofAlaska,putyourfaithinthehonestyofapolitician,believeifyouwillthattheworldisdailygrowingbetterandthatgoodwilltriumphoverevil,butdonotreadandbelievetheliteraturethatiswrittenconcerningthehen.Itwasnotwrittenforyou.
I,however,digress.Mytaledoesnotprimarilyconcernitselfwiththehen.Ifcorrectlytolditwillcenterontheegg.Fortenyearsmyfatherandmotherstruggledtomakeourchickenfarmpayandthentheygaveupthatstruggleandbegananother.TheymovedintothetownofBidwell,Ohioandembarkedintherestaurantbusiness.Aftertenyearsofworrywithincubatorsthatdidnothatch,andwithtiny--andintheirownwaylovely--ballsoffluffthatpassedonintosemi-nakedpullerhoodandfromthatintodeadhenhood,wethrewallasideandpackingourbelongingsonawagondrovedownGriggs'
sRoadtowardBidwell,atinycaravanofhopelookingforanewplacefromwhichtostartonourupwardjourneythroughlife.
Wemusthavebeenasadlookinglot,not,Ifancy,unlikerefugeesfleeingfromabattlefield.MotherandIwalkedintheroad.ThewagonthatcontainedourgoodshadbeenborrowedforthedayfromMr.AlbertGriggs,aneighbor.Outofitssidesstuckthelegsofcheapchairsandatthebackofthepileofbeds,tables,andboxesfilledwithkitchenutensilswasacrateoflivechickens,andontopofthatthebabycarriageinwhichIhadbeenwheeledaboutinmyinfancy.WhywestucktothebabycarriageIdon'
tknow.Itwasunlikelyotherchildrenwouldbebornandthewheelswerebroken.Peoplewhohavefewpossessionsclingtightlytothosetheyhave.Thatisoneofthefactsthatmakelifesodiscouraging.
Fatherrodeontopofthewagon.Hewasthenabald-headedmanofforty-five,alittlefatandfromlongassociationwithmotherandthechickenshehadbecomehabituallysilentanddiscouraged.Allduringourtenyearsonthechickenfarmhehadworkedasalaboreronneighboringfarmsandmostofthemoneyhehadearnedhadbeenspentforremediestocurechickendiseases,onWilmer'
sWhiteWonderCholeraCureorProfessorBidlow'
sEggProducerorsomeotherpreparationsthatmotherfoundadvertisedinthepoultrypapers.Thereweretwolittlepatchesofhaironfather'
sheadjustabovehisears.IrememberthatasachildIusedtositlookingathimwhenhehadgonetosleepinachairbeforethestoveonSundayafternoonsinthewinter.Ihadatthatrimealreadybeguntoreadbooksandhavenotionsofmyownandthebaldpaththatledoverthetopofhisheadwas,Ifancied,somethinglikeabroadroad,sucharoadasCaesarmighthavemadeonwhichtoleadhislegionsoutofRomeandintothewondersofanunknownworld.Thetuftsofhairthatgrewabovefather'
searswere,Ithought,likeforests.Ifellintoahalf-sleeping,half-wakingstateanddreamedIwasatinythinggoingalongtheroadintoafarbeautifulplacewheretherewerenochickenfarmsandwherelifewasahappyegglessaffair.
Onemightwriteabookconcerningourflightfromthechickenfarmintotown.MotherandIwalkedtheentireeightmiles--shetobesurethatnothingfellfromthewagonandItoseethewondersoftheworld.Ontheseatofthewagonbesidefatherwashisgreatesttreasure.Iwilltellyouofthat.
Onachickenfarmwherehundredsandeventhousandsofchickenscomeoutofeggs,surprisingthingssometimeshappen.Grotesquesarebornoutofeggsasoutofpeople.Theaccidentdoesnotoftenoccur--perhapsonceinathousandbirths.Achickenis,yousee,bornthathasfourlegs,twopairsofwings,twoheadsorwhatnot.Thethingsdonotlive.Theygoquickiybacktothehandoftheirmakerthathasforamomenttrembled.Thefactthatthepoorlittlethingscouldnotlivewasoneofthetragediesoflifetofather.Hehadsomesortofnotionthatifhecouldbutbringintohenhoodorroosterhoodafive-leggedhenoratwo-headedroosterhisfortunewouldbemade.Hedreamedoftakingthewonderabouttocountyfairsandofgrowingrichbyexhibitingittootherfarmhands.
Atanyratehesavedallthelittlemonstrousthingsthathadbeenbornonourchickenfarm.Theywerepreservedinalcoholandputeachinitsownglassbottle.Thesehehadcarefullyputintoaboxandonourjourneyintotownitwascarriedonthewagonseatbesidehim.Hedrovethehorseswithonehandandwiththeotherclungtothebox.Whenwegottoourdestinationtheboxwastakendownatonceandthebottlesremoved.AllduringourdaysaskeepersofarestaurantinthetownofBidwell,Ohio,thegrotesquesintheirlittleglassbottlessatonashelfbackofthecounter.Mothersometimesprotestedbutfatherwasarockonthesubjectofhistreasure.Thegrotesqueswere,hedeclared,valuable.People,hesaid,likedtolookatstrangeandwonderfulthings.
DidIsaythatweembarkedintherestaurantbusinessinthetownofBidwell,Ohio?
Iexaggeratedalittle.Thetownitselflayatthefootofalowhillandontheshoreofasmallriver.TherailroaddidnotrunthroughthetownandthestationwasamileawaytothenorthataplacecalledPickleville.Therehadbeenacidermillandpicklefactoryatthestation,butbeforethetimeofourcomingtheyhadbothgoneoutofbusiness.InthemorningandintheeveningbussescamedowntothestationalongaroadcalledTurner'
sPikefromthehotelonthemainstreetofBidwell.Ourgoingtotheout-of-the-wayplacetoembarkintherestaurantbusinesswasmother'
sidea.Shetalkedofitforayearandthenonedaywentoffandrentedanemptystorebuildingoppositetherailroadstation.Itwasherideathattherestaurantwouldbeprofitable.Travellingmen,shesaid,wouldbealwayswaitingaroundtotaketrainsoutoftownandtownpeoplewouldcometothestationtoawaitincomingtrains.Theywouldcometotherestauranttobuypiecesofpieanddrinkcoffee.