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《夏洛特的网》 (节选)
Charlotte's Web

[ 2010-07-13 09:34]     字号 [] [] []  
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《夏洛特的网》 (节选)

Chapter One Before Breakfast

“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.

“Out to the hog house,” replied Mrs. Arable. “Some pigs were born last night.”

“I don’t see why he needs an ax,” continued Fern, who was only eight.

“Well,” said her mother, “one of the pigs is a runt. It’s very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with it.”

“Do away with it?” shrieked Fern. “You mean kill it? Just because it’s smaller than the others?”

Mrs. Arable put a pitcher of cream on the table. “Don’t yell, Fern!” she said. “Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway.”

Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of springtime. Fern’s sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

“Please don’t kill it!” she sobbed. “It’s unfair.”

Mr. Arable stopped walking.

“Fern,” he said gently, “you will have to learn to control yourself.”

“Control myself?” yelled Fern. “This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she took hold of the ax and tried to pull it out of her father’s hand.

“Fern,” said Mr. Arable, “I know more about raising a litter of pigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble. Now run along!”

“But it’s unfair,” cried Fern. “The pig couldn’t help being born small, could it? If I had been very small at birth, would you have killed me?”

Mr. Arable smiled. “Certainly not,” he said, looking down at his daughter with love. “But this is different. A little girl is one thing, a little runty pig is another.”

第一章 早饭前

“爸爸拿着那把斧子去哪儿呀?”摆放餐具准备吃早饭时,弗恩问她妈妈。

“去猪圈,”阿拉布尔太太答道。“昨晚几只小猪出生了。”

“我不明白,他为什么需要一把斧子,”只有八岁的弗恩又说。

“这个嘛”,她妈妈说,“有一只小猪是个小个子。它又小又弱,没什么用处。所以你爸爸决定去消灭它。”

“消灭它?”弗恩尖叫道。“你是说杀掉它吗?就因为它比别的猪长得小?”

阿拉布尔太太把一罐奶油放到桌上。“别嚷嚷,弗恩!”她说。“你爸是对的。反正那只小猪不管怎样都有可能死掉的。”

弗恩推开挡路的椅子,跑了出去。草地湿漉漉的,泥土散发着春天的气息。等到追上爸爸时,弗恩的运动鞋都湿透了。

“请不要杀它!”她呜咽道。“这不公平。”

阿拉布尔先生停下了脚步。

“弗恩”,他温和地说,“你应该学会控制自己。”

“控制自己?”弗恩叫道,“这可是一件生死攸关的大事,你还说什么控制自己。”泪水顺着弗恩的面颊流下来。她一把抓住了斧子,想把它从爸爸手里抢下来。

“弗恩”,阿拉布尔先生说,“养一窝小猪的事我比你懂得多。小弱猪麻烦大着呢。快走开吧!”

“可是这不公平,”弗恩哭喊道。“这头猪生下来就小,它自己也没办法,它愿意吗?如果我生下来时也很小,你也会杀我吗?”

阿拉布尔先生笑了。“当然不会啦,”他说着,低下头疼爱地看着女儿。“但这是两码事。小女孩是一码事儿,小弱猪是另一码事。”

“I see no difference,” replied Fern, still hanging on to the ax. “This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of.”

A queer look came over John Arable’s face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself.

“All right,” he said. “You go back to the house and I will bring the runt when I come in. I’ll let you start it on a bottle, like a baby. Then you’ll see what trouble a pig can be.”

When Mr. Arable returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Fern was upstairs changing her sneakers. The kitchen table was set for breakfast, and the room smelled of coffee, bacon, damp plaster, and wood smoke from the stove.

“Put it on her chair!” said Mrs.Arable. Mr.Arable set the carton down at Fern’s place. Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and dried them on the roller towel.

Fern came slowly down the stairs. Her eyes were red from crying. As she approached her chair, the carton wobbled, and there was a scratching noise. Fern looked at her father. Then she lifted the lid of the carton. There, inside, looking up at her, was the newborn pig. It was a white one. The morning light shone through its ears, turning them pink.

“He’s yours,” said Mr. Arable. ...

Fern couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny pig. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, look at him! He’s absolutely perfect.”

“我看不出有啥不同,”弗恩回答着,仍旧抓着斧头不放。“这是我听过的最最不公平的事情!”

约翰•阿拉布尔先生的脸上掠过了一种奇怪的表情。他自己好像也要哭了。

“好吧,”他说。“你先回家吧。我回家的时候把那只小弱猪带进来,让你用奶瓶喂他,像喂小宝宝一样。那时,你就会明白一头小猪有多麻烦了。”

半小时后,阿拉布尔先生回来了,胳膊下夹着一个纸板箱。弗恩正在楼上换她的运动鞋。厨房的桌子上已经摆好了早餐,房间里满是咖啡、熏肉、湿灰泥的味儿,还有从炉子里飘出来的柴火烟味。

“把它放到她的椅子上!”阿拉布尔太太说。阿拉布尔先生把纸板箱放在弗恩的位子上。然后,他到水池边洗了手,用滚筒上的擦手毛巾擦干了手。

弗恩慢慢地下了楼。她的眼睛哭红了。当她走近自己的椅子时,纸板箱开始晃动起来,里面传出了抓挠声。弗恩看了看爸爸,然后她掀起了箱盖。在那里面抬头望着她的,正是那只新生的小猪。它是白色的。早晨的阳光照在它的耳朵上,显得粉嘟嘟的。

“他是你的了,”阿拉布尔先生说。……

弗恩目不转睛地看着小猪。“哦,”她轻声说道。“哦,看他呀!他简直是完美极了。”

She closed the carton carefully. First she kissed her father, then she kissed her mother. Then she opened the lid again, lifted the pig out, and held it against her cheek. At this moment her brother Avery came into the room. Avery was ten. He was heavily armed—an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.

“What’s that?” he demanded. “What’s Fern got?”

“She’s got a guest for breakfast,” said Mrs. Arable.

“Wash your hands and face, Avery.”

“Let’s see it!” said Avery, setting his gun down. “You call that miserable thing a pig? That’s a fine specimen of a pig—it’s no bigger than a white rat.”

“Wash up and eat your breakfast, Avery!” said his mother. “The school bus will be along in half an hour.”

“Can I have a pig, too, Pop?” asked Avery.

“No, I only distribute pigs to early risers,” said Mr. Arable. “Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let’s eat!”

But Fern couldn’t eat until her pig had had a drink of milk. Mrs. Arable found a baby’s nursing bottle and a rubber nipple. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top, and handed it to Fern.

“Give him his breakfast!” she said.

A minute later, Fern was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle. The pig, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.

她小心地盖上了纸板箱。她先亲了亲爸爸,又亲了亲妈妈。然后她又打开盖子,把小猪举起来,贴到自己的脸颊上。这时,她的哥哥埃弗里走了进来。埃弗里十岁了。他可是全副武装呢,一只手拿着气枪,另一只手握着一把木制匕首。

“那是什么?”他问。“弗恩搞到了什么?”

“她带来一位客人共进早餐,”阿拉布尔太太说。“埃弗里,去洗手洗脸!”

“让我看看它!”埃弗里说着,放下了他的枪。“你们把那可怜的东西称作猪吗?那不过是一头猪的微缩模型而已——它还没有一只白老鼠大呢。”

“快洗手吃早饭,埃弗里!”他的妈妈说。“校车半小时内就要来了。”

“也能给我一只猪吗,爸?”埃弗里问。

“不行啦,我只把猪送给早起的人,”阿拉布尔先生说。“为了试图制止世界上的不公正行为,弗恩天刚亮就起床了。结果,她现在就有了一只猪。当然了,一只小猪,但不管怎么说都是一只猪。这正表明,能早起床总会有好处的。我们开饭吧!”

但弗恩要等她的小猪喝完牛奶才肯吃饭。阿拉布尔太太找出了一个婴儿用的奶瓶和奶嘴。她把热乎乎的牛奶倒进奶瓶里,又把奶嘴装在上面,把奶瓶递给了弗恩。“给他吃早餐吧!”她说。

一分钟后,弗恩把她的小宝贝放在膝头,坐在厨房角落的地板上,开始教它如何从瓶中吸奶。这只小猪虽然很小,胃口却很好,学得也快。

The school bus honked from the road.

“Run!” commanded Mrs. Arable, taking the pig from Fern and slipping a doughnut into her hand. Avery grabbed his gun and another doughnut.

The children ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Fern took no notice of the others in the bus. She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a pig. By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.

“Its name is Wilbur,” she whispered to herself.

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said: “Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?”

“Wilbur,” said Fern, dreamily. The pupils giggled. Fern blushed.

路上传来了校车的喇叭声。

“快跑!”阿拉布尔太太命令着,把小猪从弗恩手里抱过来,又把一个炸面圈塞到她手上。埃弗里赶紧抓起他的枪和另一个炸面圈。

孩子们跑到路边,爬上了校车。弗恩在车里丝毫没注意到其他人的存在。她只是坐在那里,凝视窗外,想着这是个多么幸福的世界,自己又是多么的幸运,可以全权照管一只小猪。校车开到学校的时候,弗恩已经给她的宠物起好了名字,选的是她能想到的最好听的名字。

“它的名字叫威尔伯”,她小声地自言自语。

直到老师问她“弗恩,宾夕法尼亚州的首府叫什么? ”时,她还在想着那只小猪。

“威尔伯”,弗恩神情恍惚地答道。同学们都咯咯地笑了起来,弗恩的脸红了。

(来源:英语学习杂志)

《夏洛特的网》 (节选)

 
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