《牙齿和爪子》

简介 下面每一则的主角都是一种凶悍的动物。它们伤害或吞噬着人类的情景，透射出动 物凶残的兽性。故事虚悬、离奇。但让我们更加惊疑的是：这些动物会突然出现在雅致的房 间里、芬芳的花园或幽静的小片林地间——那些被我们认为是安全、文明的场所。它们为什 么会在那儿？为什么 Saki 把这些猛兽带到了我们的家里？ 是，我们希望它们在那儿。当然，我们并不想让真正的狼总是呆在我们的花园里， 那会兴味索然。但有时，当我们遇到了不速之客，或者内心深处很厌恶却又不得不表现出彬 彬有礼的时候，——一只真正的狼有时会非常有用。Saki 所描写的动物时而滑稽，时而残忍； 但总能撕破我们的伪装，暴露出我们心底的真实情感。 Saki（赫克托·休·芒罗）生于 1870 年。他是一位记者和作家，以写精彩的短篇故事闻名， 1916 年他死于第一次世界大战中。 Sredni Vashtar Conradin was ten years old and was often ill． 'The boy is not strong，'said the doctor．'He will not live much longer．'But the doctor did not know about Conradin's imagination． In Conradin's lonely， loveless world，his imagination was the only thing that kept him alive． Conradin's parents were dead and he lived with his aunt．The aunt did not like Conradin and was often unkind to him．Conradin hated her with all his heart， but he obeyed her quietly and took his medicine without arguing． Mostly he kept out of her way．She had no place in his world． His real， everyday life in his aunt's colourless， comfortless house was narrow and uninteresting． But inside his small， dark head exciting and violent thoughts ran wild． In the bright world of his imagination Conradin was strong and brave． It was a wonderful world， and the aunt was locked out of it． The garden was no fun． There was nothing interesting to do． He was forbidden to pick the flowers． He was forbidden to eat the fruit． He was forbidden to play on the grass But behind some trees， in a forgotten corner of the garden， there was an old shed Nobody used the shed， and Conradin took it for his own． To him it became something between a playroom and a church． He filled it with ghosts and animals from his imagination． But there were also two living things in the shed． In one corner lived an old， untidy-looking chicken． Conradin had no people to love， and this chicken was the boy's dearest friend．And in a dark， secret place at the back of the shed was a large wooden box with bars across the front． This was the home of a very large ferret with long， dangerous teeth and claws．Conradin had bought the ferret and its box from a friendly boy， who lived in the village． It had cost him all his money，but Conradin did not mind．He was most terribly afraid of the ferret， but he loved it with all his heart． It was his wonderful，terrible secret． He gave the ferret a strange and beautiful name and it became his god． The aunt went to church every Sunday． She took Conradin with her， but to Conradin her church and her god were without meaning． They seemed grey and uninteresting．The true god lived in the shed， and his name was Sredni Vashtar． Every Thursday， in the cool， silent darkness of the shed，Conradin took presents to his god． He took flowers in summer and fruits in autumn， and he made strange and wonderful songs for his god． Sometimes， on days when something important happened， Conradin took special presents．He stole salt from the kitchen and placed it carefully and lovingly in front of the ferret's box． One day the aunt had the most terrible toothache． It con tinued for three days． Morning and evening Conradin put salt in front of his god． In the end he almost believed that Sredni Vashtar himself had sent the toothache． After a time the aunt noticed Conradin's visits to the shed． 'It's not good for him to play out there in the cold，' she said． She could always find a reason to stop Conradin enjoying himself． The next morning at breakfast she told Conradin that she had sold the chicken． She looked at Conradin's white face , and waited for him to cry or to be angry． But Conradin said nothing； there was nothing to say． Perhaps the aunt felt sorry． That afternoon there was hot buttered toast for tea． Toast was usually forbidden． Conradin loved it， but the aunt said that it was bad for him． Also， it made extra work for the cook． Conradin looked at the toast and quietly took a piece of bread and butter． 'I thought you liked toast，' the aunt said crossly． 'Sometimes，'said Conradin． In the shed that evening Conradin looked sadly at the empty corner where his chicken had lived． And， for the first time， he asked his ferret-god to do something for him． 'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar，'he said softly． He did not say what he wanted． Sredni Vashtar was a god， after all． There is no need to explain things to gods．Then， with a last look at the empty corner， Conradin returned to the world that he hated． And every night， in the shed and in his bedroom， Con radin repeated again and again． 'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar．' So Conradin's visits to the shed continued． The aunt no ticed， and went to look in the shed again． 'What are you keeping in that locked box？' she asked．' I'm sure you're keeping an animal there． It's not good for you． Conradin said nothing． The aunt searched his bedroom until she found the key to the box． She marched down to the shed． It was a cold afternoon， and Conradin was forbidden to go outside． From the window of the dining －room Conradin could just see the door of the shed． He stood and waited． He saw the aunt open the shed door． She went inside．Now， thought Conradin， she has found the box． She is opening the door， and feeling about inside the box where my god lives． 'Do one thing for me， Sredni Vashtar，'said Conradin softly． But he said it without hope． She will win， he thought．She always wins． Soon she will come out of the shed and give her orders． Somebody will come and take my wonderful god away-not a god any more，just a brown ferret in a box．Then there will be nothing important in my life… The doctor will be right． I shall sicken and die． She will win． She always wins… In his pain and misery， Conradin began to sing the song of his god： Sredni Vashtar went into battle． His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white． his enemies called for peace but be brought them death． Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful． Suddenly he stopped singing and went nearer to the window．The door of the shed was still open． Slowly， very slowly the minutes went by． Conradin watched the birds on the grass．He counted them， always with one eye on that open door． The unsmiling housekeeper came in with the tea things． Still Sonradin stood and watched and waited． Hope was growing，like a small， sick flower， in his heart． Very softly he sang his song again， and his hope grew and grew． And then he saw a very wonderful thing． Out of the shed came a long， low， yellow－and－brown animal． There were red， wet stains around its mouth and neck． 'Sredni Vashtar！' said Conradin softly． The ferret－god made its way to the bottom of the garden． It stopped for a moment， then went quietly into the long grass and disappeared for ever． 'Tea is ready，' said the housekeeper． 'Where is your aunt？' 'She went down to the shed，' said Conradin． And， while the housekeeper went down to call the aunt，Conradin took the toasting－fork out of the dining－room cupboard． He sat by the fire and toasted a piece of bread for himself． While he was toasting it and putting butter on it，Conradin listened to the noises beyond the dining room door．First there were loud screams-that was the housekeeper．Then there was the cook's answering cry．Soon there came the sound of several pairs of feet． They were carrying something heavy into the house． 'Who is going to tell that poor child？' said the housekeeper． 'Well， someone will have to，'answered the cook． And，while they were arguing， Conradin made himself another piece of toast． The Story-Teller It was a hot， airless afternoon． The train was slow and the next stop was nearly an hour away． The people in the train were hot and tired． There were three small children and their aunt， and a tall man， who was a bachelor． The bachelor did not know the little family，and he did not want to know them． The aunt and the children talked， but it was not a real conversation． It was more like a battle with a small housefly which will not go away． When the aunt spoke to the children，she always began with 'Don't… 'When the children spoke to her， they always began with'Why…'The bachelor said nothing aloud． The small boy opened his mouth and closed it again． It made an interesting little noise， so he did it again． Open．Close． Open． Close． 'Don't do that， Cyril，'said the aunt．' Come and look out of the window．'The boy closed his mouth and sat next to the window． He looked out at the green fields and trees． 'Why is that man taking those sheep out of that field？'he asked suddenly． 'Perhaps he's taking them to another field where there is more grass， 'said the aunt． It was not a very good answer，and the boy knew it． 'But there is lots of grass in that field，' he said．'The field is full of grass， Aunt． Why doesn't the man leave his sheep in that field？' 'I suppose the grass in the other field is better， ' answered the aunt． 'Why is it better？'asked Cyril at once． 'Oh， look at those cows！'cried the aunt． There were cows in nearly all the fields along the railway line． Cyril did not look at the cows． He wanted an answer to his question． 'Why is the grass in the other field better？' he said again． The bachelor gave them an angry look． The aunt saw him． He's a hard， unkind man， she thought． He doesn't like children． She searched for a suitable answer to Cyril's question， but could not find one． The smaller girl began to say some words from a song： 'On the road to Mandalay， where the happy children play，'she began． Then she stopped． She could not remember any more words， so she said the first words again， quietly but very clearly． Then she said them again． And again． And again． The bachelor looked angrily at the girl， and then at the aunt． 'Come here and sit down quietly，'the aunt said quickly to the children．'I'm going to tell you a story．' The children moved slowly towards the aunt's seat． They already looked bored． Clearly， the aunt was not a famous story-teller． The story was horribly uninteresting． It was about a little girl． She was not a beautiful child， but she was always very，very good．Everybody loved her because she was good．Finally， she fell into a lake and her friends saved her because she was so good， and they loved her so much． 'Did they only save her because she was good？' asked the bigger girl．Shouldn't we save bad people too， if they fall in to a lake？'The bachelor wanted to ask the same question， but he said nothing． 'Well， yes， we should，' said the aunt．'But I'm sure the little girl's friends ran specially fast because they loved her so much．' 'That was the stupidest story that I've ever heard，'said the bigger girl． 'I didn't listen after the first few words，' said Cyril，'because it was so stupid．' The smaller girl was already quietly repeating the words of her song for the twentieth time． 'You're not very successful as a story-teller，' the bachelor said suddenly from his corner． The aunt looked at him in angry surprise．'It's not easy to tell stories that children can understand，' she answered coldly． 'I don't agree with you，' said the bachelor． 'Perhaps you would like to tell them a story，'said the aunt． She gave him a cold little smile． 'Yes— tell us a story，' said the bigger girl． 'A long time ago，'began the bachelor，'there was a little girl called Bertha， who was extraordinarily good． She always worked well at school． She always obeyed her teachers and her parents． She was never late， never dirty， and always ate all her vegetables． She was polite， she was tidy， and she never， never told lies．' 'Oh，' said the children． They were beginning to look bored already． 'Was she pretty？' asked the smaller girl． ' No，' said the bachelor． 'She wasn't pretty． But she was horribly good．' 'Horribly good． I like that！' said Cyril． The children began to look more interested． The words 'horrible' and 'good'together was a new idea for them， and it pleased them． 'Bertha was always good，'continued the bachelor．'Because she was so good， Bertha had three medals． There was the “Never Late” medal． There was the “Politeness” medal．And there was the medal for the “Best Child in the World”．They were very large medals． Bertha always wore them on her dress， and they clinked as she walked along． She was the only child in her town who had three medals．So everybody knew that she must be an extra good child．' 'Horribly good，' repeated Cyril happily． 'Everybody talked about Bertha's goodness． The king of that country heard about her， and he was very pleased．“Because Bertha is so good，”he said，“she may come and walk in my palace gardens every Friday afternoon．”The king's gardens were famous． They were large and very beautiful， and children were usually forbidden to go in them．' 'Were there any sheep in the palace gardens？' asked Cyril． 'No，' said the bachelor，'there were no sheep．' 'Why weren't there any sheep？'asked Cyril at once． The aunt gave a little smile， and waited with interest for the bachelor's answer． 'There were no sheep in the king's gardens，' explained the bachelor， 'because the king's mother had once had a dream． In her dream a voice said to her，“Your son will be killed by a sheep，or by a clock falling on him．” Thst is why the king never kept a sheep in his gardens or a clock in his palace．' The aunt thought secretly that this was a very clever answer， but she stayed silent． 'Was the king killed by a sheep， or by a clock？ asked the bigger girl． 'He is still alive，' said the bachelor calmly，'so we don't know if the dream was true or not． But， although there were no sheep， there were lots of little pigs running around everywhere．' 'What colour were the pigs？ asked the smaller glrl． 'Black with white faces， white with black faces， all balck， grey and white， and some were all white．' The bachelor stopped for a moment， while the children's imaginations took in these wonderful pictures． Then he went on again． 'Bertha was sorry that there were no flowers in the palace gardens． She had promised her aunts that she would not pick any of the kind king's flowers． She wanted very much to be good and to keep her promise． So she was very cross when she found that there were no flowers to pick．' 'Why weren't there any flowers？' 'Because the pigs had eaten them all，' said the bachelor immediately．' The gardeners had told the king that he couldn't have pigs and flowers， because pigs eat flowers． So the king decided to have pigs，and no flowers．' The children thought that this was an excellent idea． 'Most people choose flowers，' said Cyril． He looked very pleased．'But of course， pigs are much better than flowers．' 'There were lots of other wonderful things in the palace gardens，'the bachelor continued． 'There were lakes with gold and blue and green fish in them． There were trees with beautiful birds that could talk and say clever things．There were also birds that could sing popular songs． 'Well， on the first Friday afternoon in May， Bertha came to the king's gardens， the king's soldiers saw her beautiful white dress and her three medals for goodness， and they opened the doors to the gardens at once． 'Bertha walked up and down and enjoyed herself very much． As she walked along， the three medals on her beautiful white dress clinked against each other． She heard them clinking， and she thought：“I'm here in these lovely gardens because I am the Best Child in the World．”She felt pleased and happy and very， very good． 'Just then a very big， hungry wolf came into the gardens． It wanted to catch a fat little pig for its supper．' 'What colour was the wolf？ asked the children， who were listening to the story with great interest． 'He was grey，'said the bachelor，'with a black tongue and angrg yellow eges． He had long black claws and big，strong， yellowish teeth． The wolf was hungry． He smelled the ground with his long grey nose． Then he saw Bertha's beautiful， clean white dress and began to move quietly towards her． 'Bertha saw the wolf and she wished she had not come to the gardens．Oh， why did I come here？”she thought．“All the bad children are safe at home． I wish I wasn't an extraordinarily good child！ Then I could be safe at home too．”She ran as hard as she could， and the wolf came after her on his long grey legs． 'At last Bertha mannged to reach some big， sweet smelling myrtle bushes， and she hid herself in the thickest bush． The wolf walked round and round the bushes， with his angry yellow eyes and his long blach tongue． But he couldn't see Bertha because the bushes were too thick， and he couldn't smell her because the smell of the myrtle was too strong． So after a while the wolf became bored， and decided to go and catch a little pig for his supper． 'Bertha was terribly frightened． Her heart beat very fast and her body shook with fear． Her arms shook and her legs shook． Her three medals for goodness shook too． And as they shook， they clinked together． The wolf was just moving away， when he heard the medals clinking， and he stopped to listen． The medals clinked again． The wolf's yellow eyes shone， and he ran into the myrtle bushes， pulled Bertha out，and ate her． He ate everything except her shoes， a few small pieces of her dress， and the three medals for goodness．' 'Were any of the little pigs killed？' asked Cyril． 'No， they all escaped．' 'The story began badly，' said the smaller girl，'but it finished beautifully．' 'It is the most beautiful story that I have ever heard，'said the bigger girl． 'It is the only beautiful story I have ever heard，' said Cyril． The aunt did not agree．'It was a most improper story！'she said angrily．'You mustn't tell children stories like that！You have destroyed years of careful teaching．' 'Well，' said the bachelor． He put on his coat and picked up his bags．'The children sat still and were quiet for ten minutes while they listened to the story． And they didn't do that for you．' 'I feel sorry for that woman，' thought the bachelor as he stepped down from the train at the next station．'What will people think when those children ask her for an improper story！' Gabriel Ernest Cunningham had spent an agreeable week in the country with his friend Van Cheele． Now Van Cheele was driving his guest back to the station． Cunningham was unusually quiet on the journey， but Van Cheele talked all the time， so he did not notice his friend's silence． Suddenly Cunningham spoke．'There is a wild animal in your woods，' he said． 'A wild animal？ A few rabbits， perhaps． Nothing very terrible， surely，' said Van Cheele． Cunningham said nothing． ' What did you mean about a wild animal？' asked Van Cheele later， at the station． 'Nothing． It was my imagination． Here is the train，'said Cunningham． That afternoon Van Cheele went for a walk through his woods． He knew a little about plants and animals， and he enjoyed walking through the woods around his house and looking at the birds and flowers there． He also enjoyed telling everyone about them aftefwards．Of course，he never saw anything very surprising——until that afternoon． During his walk Van Cheele came to a deep pool under some tall trees． He knew it well： after all， it was his pool．But today， he saw