章节正文
Robert Walmsley was eagerlyregarding a certain
branch of the apple tree upon which be used to climb
out of that very window. He believed he could do it
now. He wondered bow many blossoms there were
on the tree -- ten millions? But here was some one
speaking again:
"I thought I married a gentleman," the voice
went on, "but -- "
Why had she come and was standing so close by
his side?
"But I find that I have married" -- was this
Alicia talking? -- "something better -- a man --
Bob, dear, kiss me, won't you?"
The city was far away.
THE SHOCKS OF DOOM
Here is an aristocracy of the public parks and
even of the vagabonds who use them for their private
apartments. Vallance felt rather than knew this,
but when he stepped down out of his world into
chaos his feet brought him directly to Madison
Square.
Raw and astringent as a schoolgirl -- of the old
order -- young May breathed austerely among the
budding trees. Vallance buttoned his coat, lighted
his last cigarette and took his seat upon a bench.
For three minutes be mildly regretted the last hundred
of his last thousand that it had cost him when the
bicycle cop put an end to his last automobile ride.
Then he felt in every pocket and found not a
single penny. He had given up his apartment that
morning. His furniture had gone toward certain
debts. His clothes, save what were upon him, had
descended to his man-servant for back wages. As he
sat there was not in the whole city for him a bed or a
broiled lobster or a street-car fare or a carnation for
buttonhole unless be should obtain them by spong-
on his friends or by false pretenses. Therefore
lie had chosen the park.
And all this was because an uncle had disinherited
him, and cut down his allowance from liberality to
nothing. And all that was because his nephew had
disobeyed him concerning a certain girl, who comes
not into this story -- therefore, all readers who
brush their hair toward its roots may be warned to
read no further. There was another nephew, of a
different branch, who had once been the prospective
heir and favorite. Being without grace or hope, he
had long ago disappeared in the mire. Now drag-
nets were out for him; he was to be rehabilitated and
restored. And so Vallance fell grandly as Lucifer
to the lowest pit, joining the tattered ghosts in the
little park.
Sitting there, he leaned far back on the hard bench
and laughed a jet of cigarette smoke up to the lowest
tree branches. The sudden severing of all his life's
ties had brought him a free, thrilling, almost joyous
elation. He felt precisely the sensation of the aero-
naut when he cuts loose his parachute and lets his
balloon drift away.
The hour was nearly ten. Not many loungers
were on the benches. The park-dweller, though a
stubborn fighter against autumnal coolness, is slow
to attack the advance line of spring's chilly cohorts.
Then arose one from a seat near the leaping foun-
tain, and came and sat himself at Vallance's side.
He was either young or old; cheap lodging-houses
had flavored him mustily; razors and combs had
passed him by; in him drink had been bottled and
sealed in the devil's bond. He begged a match, which
is the form of introduction among park benchers, and
then he began to talk.
"You're not one of the regulars," he said to Val-
lance. "I know tailored clothes when I see 'em.
You just stopped for a moment on your way through
the park. Don't mind my talking to you for a while?
I've got to be with somebody. I'm afraid -- I'm
afraid. I've told two or three of those bummers over
about it. They think I'm crazy. Say -- let
tell you -- all I've had to eat to-day was a couple
pretzels and an apple. To-morrow I'll stand in
to inherit three millions; and that restaurant you
ee over there with the autos around it will be too
for me to eat in. Don't believe it, do you?
"Without the slightest trouble," said Vallance,
with a laugh. "I lunched there yesterday. To-
night I couldn't buy a five-cent cup of coffee."
"You don't look like one of us. Well, I guess those
things happen. I used to be a high-flyer myself
years ago. What knocked you out of the game?"
"I -- oh, I lost my job," said Vallance.
"It's undiluted Hades, this city," went on the
other. "One day you're eating from china; the
next you are eating in China -- a chop-suey joint.
I've had more than my share of hard luck. For five
years I've been little better than a panhandler. I
was raised up to live expensively and do nothing.
Say -- I don't mind telling you -- I've got to talk
to somebody, you see, because I'm afraid -- I'm
afraid. My name's Ide. You wouldn't think that
old Paulding, one of the millionaires on Riverside
Drive, was my uncle, would you? Well, he is. I
lived in his house once, and had all the money I
wanted. Say, haven't you got the price of a couple
of drinks about you -- er -- what's your name"
"Dawson," said Vallance. "No; I'm sorry to say
that I'm all in, financially."
"I've been living for a week in a coal cellar on
Division Street," went on Ide, "with a crook they
called 'Blinky' Morris. I didn't have anywhere else
to go. While I was out to-day a chap with some pa-
pers in his pocket was there, asking for me. I didn't
know but what he was a fly cop, so I didn't go around
again till after dark. There was a letter there be
had left for me. Say -- Dawson, it was from a big
downtown lawyer, Mead. I've seen his sign on Ann
Street. Paulding wants me to play the prodigal
nephew -- wants me to come back and be his heir
again and blow in his money. I'm to call at the
lawyer's office at ten to-morrow and step into my old
shoes again -- heir to three million, Dawson, and
$10,000 a year pocket money. And -- I'm afraid
-- I'm afraid"
The vagrant leaped to his feet and raised both
trembling arms above his bead. He caught his breath
and moaned hysterically.
Vallance seized his arm and forced him back to the
bench.
"Be quiet!" he commanded, with something like
disgust in his tones. "One would think you had lost
a fortune, instead of being about to acquire one. Of
what are you afraid?"
Ide cowered and shivered on the bench. He clung
to Vallance's sleeve, and even in the dim glow of the
Broadway lights the latest disinherited one could see
drops on the other's brow wrung out by some strange
terror.
"Why, I'm afraid something will happen to me be-
fore morning. I don't know what -- something to
keep me from coming into that money. I'm afraid a
tree will fall on me -- I'm afraid a cab will run over
me, or a stone drop on me from a housetop, or some-
thing. I never was afraid before. I've sat in this
park a hundred nights as calm as a graven image
without knowing where my breakfast was to come
from. But now it's different. I love money, Daw-
son - I'm happy as a god when it's trickling through
my fingers, and people are bowing to me, with the
music and the flowers and fine clothes all around. As
long as I knew I was out of the game I didn't mind.
I was even happy sitting here ragged and hungry,
listening to the fountain jump and watching the
carriages go up the avenue. But it's in reach of my
hand again now -- almost -- and I can't stand it to
wait twelve hours, Dawson -- I can't stand it.
There are fifty things that could happen to me -- I
could go blind -- I might be attacked with heart
disease -- the world might come to an end before I
could -- "
Ide sprang to his feet again, with a shriek. Peo-
ple stirred on the benches and began to look. Val-
lance took his arm.
"Come and walk," he said, soothingly. "And try
to calm yourself. There is no need to become ex-
cited or alarmed. Nothing is going to happen to
you. One night is like another."
"That's right," said Ide. "Stay with me, Daw-
son -- that's a good fellow. Walk around with me
awhile. I never went to pieces like this before, and
I've had a good many hard knocks. Do you think
you could hustle something in the way of a little
lunch, old man? I'm afraid my nerve's too far gone
to try any panhandling"
Vallance led his companion up almost deserted
Fifth Avenue, and then westward along the Thirties
toward Broadway. "Wait here a few minutes," he
said, leaving Ide in a quiet and shadowed spot. He
entered a familiar hotel, and strolled toward the bar
quite in his old assured way.
"There's a poor devil outside, Jimmy," he said to
the bartender, "who says he's hungry and looks it.
You know what they do when you give them money.
Fix up a sandwich or two for him; and I'll see that
he doesn't throw it away."
"Certainly, Mr. Vallance," said the bartender.
"They ain't all fakes. Don't like to see anybody go
hungry."
Ide folded a liberal supply of the free lunch into a
napkin. Vallance went with it and joined his com-
panion. Ide pounced upon the food ravenously. "I
haven't had any free lunch as good as this in a
year," be said. "Aren't you going to eat any,
Dawson?
"I'm not hungry - thanks," said Vallance.
"We'll go back to the Square," said Ide. "The
cops won't bother us there. I'll roll up the rest of
this ham and stuff for our breakfast. I won't eat
any more; I'm afraid I'll get sick. Suppose I'd die
of cramps or something to-night, and never get to
touch that money again! It's eleven hours yet till
time to see that lawyer. You won't leave me, will
you, Dawson? I'm afraid something might happen.
branch of the apple tree upon which be used to climb
out of that very window. He believed he could do it
now. He wondered bow many blossoms there were
on the tree -- ten millions? But here was some one
speaking again:
"I thought I married a gentleman," the voice
went on, "but -- "
Why had she come and was standing so close by
his side?
"But I find that I have married" -- was this
Alicia talking? -- "something better -- a man --
Bob, dear, kiss me, won't you?"
The city was far away.
THE SHOCKS OF DOOM
Here is an aristocracy of the public parks and
even of the vagabonds who use them for their private
apartments. Vallance felt rather than knew this,
but when he stepped down out of his world into
chaos his feet brought him directly to Madison
Square.
Raw and astringent as a schoolgirl -- of the old
order -- young May breathed austerely among the
budding trees. Vallance buttoned his coat, lighted
his last cigarette and took his seat upon a bench.
For three minutes be mildly regretted the last hundred
of his last thousand that it had cost him when the
bicycle cop put an end to his last automobile ride.
Then he felt in every pocket and found not a
single penny. He had given up his apartment that
morning. His furniture had gone toward certain
debts. His clothes, save what were upon him, had
descended to his man-servant for back wages. As he
sat there was not in the whole city for him a bed or a
broiled lobster or a street-car fare or a carnation for
buttonhole unless be should obtain them by spong-
on his friends or by false pretenses. Therefore
lie had chosen the park.
And all this was because an uncle had disinherited
him, and cut down his allowance from liberality to
nothing. And all that was because his nephew had
disobeyed him concerning a certain girl, who comes
not into this story -- therefore, all readers who
brush their hair toward its roots may be warned to
read no further. There was another nephew, of a
different branch, who had once been the prospective
heir and favorite. Being without grace or hope, he
had long ago disappeared in the mire. Now drag-
nets were out for him; he was to be rehabilitated and
restored. And so Vallance fell grandly as Lucifer
to the lowest pit, joining the tattered ghosts in the
little park.
Sitting there, he leaned far back on the hard bench
and laughed a jet of cigarette smoke up to the lowest
tree branches. The sudden severing of all his life's
ties had brought him a free, thrilling, almost joyous
elation. He felt precisely the sensation of the aero-
naut when he cuts loose his parachute and lets his
balloon drift away.
The hour was nearly ten. Not many loungers
were on the benches. The park-dweller, though a
stubborn fighter against autumnal coolness, is slow
to attack the advance line of spring's chilly cohorts.
Then arose one from a seat near the leaping foun-
tain, and came and sat himself at Vallance's side.
He was either young or old; cheap lodging-houses
had flavored him mustily; razors and combs had
passed him by; in him drink had been bottled and
sealed in the devil's bond. He begged a match, which
is the form of introduction among park benchers, and
then he began to talk.
"You're not one of the regulars," he said to Val-
lance. "I know tailored clothes when I see 'em.
You just stopped for a moment on your way through
the park. Don't mind my talking to you for a while?
I've got to be with somebody. I'm afraid -- I'm
afraid. I've told two or three of those bummers over
about it. They think I'm crazy. Say -- let
tell you -- all I've had to eat to-day was a couple
pretzels and an apple. To-morrow I'll stand in
to inherit three millions; and that restaurant you
ee over there with the autos around it will be too
for me to eat in. Don't believe it, do you?
"Without the slightest trouble," said Vallance,
with a laugh. "I lunched there yesterday. To-
night I couldn't buy a five-cent cup of coffee."
"You don't look like one of us. Well, I guess those
things happen. I used to be a high-flyer myself
years ago. What knocked you out of the game?"
"I -- oh, I lost my job," said Vallance.
"It's undiluted Hades, this city," went on the
other. "One day you're eating from china; the
next you are eating in China -- a chop-suey joint.
I've had more than my share of hard luck. For five
years I've been little better than a panhandler. I
was raised up to live expensively and do nothing.
Say -- I don't mind telling you -- I've got to talk
to somebody, you see, because I'm afraid -- I'm
afraid. My name's Ide. You wouldn't think that
old Paulding, one of the millionaires on Riverside
Drive, was my uncle, would you? Well, he is. I
lived in his house once, and had all the money I
wanted. Say, haven't you got the price of a couple
of drinks about you -- er -- what's your name"
"Dawson," said Vallance. "No; I'm sorry to say
that I'm all in, financially."
"I've been living for a week in a coal cellar on
Division Street," went on Ide, "with a crook they
called 'Blinky' Morris. I didn't have anywhere else
to go. While I was out to-day a chap with some pa-
pers in his pocket was there, asking for me. I didn't
know but what he was a fly cop, so I didn't go around
again till after dark. There was a letter there be
had left for me. Say -- Dawson, it was from a big
downtown lawyer, Mead. I've seen his sign on Ann
Street. Paulding wants me to play the prodigal
nephew -- wants me to come back and be his heir
again and blow in his money. I'm to call at the
lawyer's office at ten to-morrow and step into my old
shoes again -- heir to three million, Dawson, and
$10,000 a year pocket money. And -- I'm afraid
-- I'm afraid"
The vagrant leaped to his feet and raised both
trembling arms above his bead. He caught his breath
and moaned hysterically.
Vallance seized his arm and forced him back to the
bench.
"Be quiet!" he commanded, with something like
disgust in his tones. "One would think you had lost
a fortune, instead of being about to acquire one. Of
what are you afraid?"
Ide cowered and shivered on the bench. He clung
to Vallance's sleeve, and even in the dim glow of the
Broadway lights the latest disinherited one could see
drops on the other's brow wrung out by some strange
terror.
"Why, I'm afraid something will happen to me be-
fore morning. I don't know what -- something to
keep me from coming into that money. I'm afraid a
tree will fall on me -- I'm afraid a cab will run over
me, or a stone drop on me from a housetop, or some-
thing. I never was afraid before. I've sat in this
park a hundred nights as calm as a graven image
without knowing where my breakfast was to come
from. But now it's different. I love money, Daw-
son - I'm happy as a god when it's trickling through
my fingers, and people are bowing to me, with the
music and the flowers and fine clothes all around. As
long as I knew I was out of the game I didn't mind.
I was even happy sitting here ragged and hungry,
listening to the fountain jump and watching the
carriages go up the avenue. But it's in reach of my
hand again now -- almost -- and I can't stand it to
wait twelve hours, Dawson -- I can't stand it.
There are fifty things that could happen to me -- I
could go blind -- I might be attacked with heart
disease -- the world might come to an end before I
could -- "
Ide sprang to his feet again, with a shriek. Peo-
ple stirred on the benches and began to look. Val-
lance took his arm.
"Come and walk," he said, soothingly. "And try
to calm yourself. There is no need to become ex-
cited or alarmed. Nothing is going to happen to
you. One night is like another."
"That's right," said Ide. "Stay with me, Daw-
son -- that's a good fellow. Walk around with me
awhile. I never went to pieces like this before, and
I've had a good many hard knocks. Do you think
you could hustle something in the way of a little
lunch, old man? I'm afraid my nerve's too far gone
to try any panhandling"
Vallance led his companion up almost deserted
Fifth Avenue, and then westward along the Thirties
toward Broadway. "Wait here a few minutes," he
said, leaving Ide in a quiet and shadowed spot. He
entered a familiar hotel, and strolled toward the bar
quite in his old assured way.
"There's a poor devil outside, Jimmy," he said to
the bartender, "who says he's hungry and looks it.
You know what they do when you give them money.
Fix up a sandwich or two for him; and I'll see that
he doesn't throw it away."
"Certainly, Mr. Vallance," said the bartender.
"They ain't all fakes. Don't like to see anybody go
hungry."
Ide folded a liberal supply of the free lunch into a
napkin. Vallance went with it and joined his com-
panion. Ide pounced upon the food ravenously. "I
haven't had any free lunch as good as this in a
year," be said. "Aren't you going to eat any,
Dawson?
"I'm not hungry - thanks," said Vallance.
"We'll go back to the Square," said Ide. "The
cops won't bother us there. I'll roll up the rest of
this ham and stuff for our breakfast. I won't eat
any more; I'm afraid I'll get sick. Suppose I'd die
of cramps or something to-night, and never get to
touch that money again! It's eleven hours yet till
time to see that lawyer. You won't leave me, will
you, Dawson? I'm afraid something might happen.
- eagerly [´i:gəli]
ad.渴望地，急切地 (初中英语单词) - standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- schoolgirl [´sku:lgə:l] n.(中小学的)女生 (初中英语单词)
- apartment [ə´pɑ:tmənt] n.一套房间 (初中英语单词)
- obtain [əb´tein] v.获得；买到；得到承认 (初中英语单词)
- allowance [ə´lauəns] n.津贴；配给量；考虑 (初中英语单词)
- nephew [´nevju:, ´nɛfju] n.侄子；外甥 (初中英语单词)
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- sensation [sen´seiʃən] n.感觉；轰动；轰动一时 (初中英语单词)
- chilly [´tʃili] a.凉飕飕的 (初中英语单词)
- introduction [,intrə´dʌkʃən] n.介绍；引言；引导 (初中英语单词)
- restaurant [´restərɔnt] n.饭店，菜馆 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- cellar [´selə] n.地窑，地下室 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- lawyer [´lɔ:jə] n.律师；法学家 (初中英语单词)
- acquire [ə´kwaiə] vt.求得，获得，学得 (初中英语单词)
- sleeve [sli:v] n.袖子；袖套 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- fountain [´fauntin] n.泉水；源泉；根源 (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- shriek [ʃri:k] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- sandwich [´sænwidʒ, ´sændwitʃ] n.三明治，夹心面包片 (初中英语单词)
- liberal [´libərəl] a.大方的 n.开明的人 (初中英语单词)
- bother [´bɔðə] v.打扰 n.麻烦(事) (初中英语单词)
- regarding [ri´gɑ:diŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- concerning [kən´sə:niŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- precisely [pri´saisli] ad.精确地；刻板地 (高中英语单词)
- fighter [´faitə] n.战士；战斗机 (高中英语单词)
- inherit [in´herit] v.继承；遗传 (高中英语单词)
- ragged [´rægid] a.衣服破烂的 (高中英语单词)
- westward [´westwəd] a.向西的 n.西方；西部 (高中英语单词)
- broadway [´brɔ:dwei] n.&a.百老汇大街(的) (高中英语单词)
- aristocracy [,æris´tɔkrəsi] n.贵族政治；贵族 (英语四级单词)
- mildly [´maildli] ad.温和地；适度地 (英语四级单词)
- lobster [´lɔbstə] n.龙虾(肉) (英语四级单词)
- tattered [´tætəd] a.(衣服等)破烂的 (英语四级单词)
- hustle [´hʌsəl] v.猛挤；催促 n.乱堆 (英语四级单词)
- parachute [´pærəʃu:t] n.降落伞 v.伞投；跳伞 (英语六级单词)
- coolness [´ku:lnis] n.凉，凉爽；冷静 (英语六级单词)
- vagrant [´veigrənt] n.流浪者 a.流浪的 (英语六级单词)
- housetop [´haustɔp] n.屋顶 (英语六级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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