神马文学网鲁迅全集 汉英对照（三）
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THE NEW YEAR'S SACRIFICE 祝福
New Year's Eve of the old calendar seems after all more like the real New Year's Eve; for, to say nothing of the villages and towns, even in the air there is a feeling that New Year is coming. From the pale, lowering evening clouds issue frequent flashes of lightning, followed by a rumbling sound of firecrackers celebrating the departure of the Hearth God; while, nearer by, the firecrackers explode even more violently, and before the deafening report dies away the air is filled with a faint smell of powder. It was on such a night that I returned to Luchen, my native place. Although I call it my native place, I had had no home there for some time, so I had to put up temporarily with a certain Mr. Lu, the fourth son of his family. He is a member of our clan, and belongs to the generation before mine, so I ought to call him "Fourth Uncle." An old student of the imperial college who went in for Neo-Confucianism, I found him very little changed in any way, simply slightly older, but without any moustache as yet. When we met, after exchanging a few polite remarks he said I was fatter, and after saying that immediately started a violent attack on the revolutionaries. I knew this was not meant personally, because the object of the attack was still Kang Yu-wei. Nevertheless, conversation proved difficult, so that in a short time I found myself alone in the study.
The next day I got up very late, and after lunch went out to see some relatives and friends. The day after I did the same. None of them was greatly changed, simply slightly older; but every family was busy preparing for "the sacrifice." This is the great end-of-year ceremony in Luchen, when people reverently welcome the God of Fortune and solicit good fortune for the coming year. They kill chickens and geese and buy pork, scouring and scrubbing until all the women's arms turn red in the water. Some of them still wear twisted silver bracelets. After the meat is cooked some chopsticks are thrust into it at random, and this is called the "offering." It is set out at dawn when incense and candles are lit, and they reverently invite the God of Fortune to come and partake of the offering. Only men can be worshippers, and after the sacrifice they naturally continue to let off firecrackers as before. This happens every year, in every family, provided they can afford to buy the offering and firecrackers; and this year they naturally followed the old custom.
The day grew overcast. In the afternoon it actually started to snow, the biggest snow-flakes as large as plum blossom petals fluttered about the sky; and this, combined with the smoke and air of activity, made Luchen appear in a ferment. When I returned to my uncle's study the roof of the house was already white with snow. The room also appeared brighter, the great red rubbing hanging on the wall showing up very clearly the character for Longevity written by the Taoist saint Chen Tuan. One of a pair of scrolls had fallen down and was lying loosely rolled up on the long table, but the other was still hanging there, bearing the words: "By understanding reason we achieve tranquillity of mind." Idly, I went to turn over the books on the table beneath the window, but all I could find was a pile of what looked like an incomplete set of Kang Hsi's Dictionary, a volume of Chiang Yung's Notes to
Besides, the very thought of my meeting with Hsiang Lin's Wife the day before made me uncomfortable. It happened in the afternoon. I had been visiting a friend in the eastern part of the town. As I came out I met her by the river, and seeing the way she fastened her eyes on me I knew very well she meant to speak to me. Of all the people I had seen this time at Luchen none had changed as much as she: her hair, which had been streaked with white five years before, was now completely white, quite unlike someone in her forties. Her face was fearfully thin and dark in its sallowness, and had moreover lost its former expression of sadness, looking as if carved out of wood. Only an occasional flicker of her eyes showed she was still a living creature. In one hand she carried a wicker basket, in which was a broken bowl, empty; in the other she held a bamboo pole longer than herself, split at the bottom: it was clear she had become a beggar.
I stood still, waiting for her to come and ask for money.
"You have come back?" she asked me first.
"Yes."
"That is very good. You are a scholar, and have travelled too and seen a lot. I just want to ask you something." Her lustreless eyes suddenly gleamed.
I never guessed she would talk to me like this. I stood there taken by surprise.
"It is this." She drew two paces nearer, and whispered very confidentially: "After a person dies, does he turn into a ghost or not?"
As she fixed her eyes on me I was seized with foreboding. A shiver ran down my spine and I felt more nervous than during an unexpected examination at school, when unfortunately the teacher stands by one's side. Personally, I had never given the least thought to the question of the existence of spirits. In this emergency how should I answer her? Hesitating for a moment, I reflected: "It is the tradition here to believe in spirits, yet she seems to be sceptical--perhaps it would be better to say she hopes: hopes that there is immortality and yet hopes that there is not. Why increase the sufferings of the wretched? To give her something to look forward to, it would be better to say there is."
"There may be, I think," I told her hesitantly.
"Then, there must also be a Hell?"
"What, Hell?" Greatly startled, I could only try to evade the question. "Hell? According to reason there should be one too--but not necessarily. Who cares about it anyway? . . ."
"Then will all the people of one family who have died see each other again?"
"Well, as to whether they will see each other again or not. . . ." I realized now that I was a complete fool; for all my hesitation and reflection I had been unable to answer her three questions. Immediately I lost confidence and wanted to say the exact opposite of what I had previously said. "In this case . . . as a matter of fact, I am not sure. . . . Actually, regarding the question of ghosts, I am not sure either."
In order to avoid further importunate questions, I walked off, and beat a hasty retreat to my uncle's house, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable. I thought to myself: "I am afraid my answer will prove dangerous to her. Probably it is just that when other people are celebrating she feels lonely by herself, but could there be another reason? Could she have had some premonition? If there is another reason, and as a result something happens, then, through my answer, I shall be held responsible to a certain extent." Finally, however, I ended by laughing at myself, thinking that such a chance meeting could have no great significance, and yet I was taking it so to heart; no wonder certain educationalists called me a neurotic. Moreover I had distinctly said, "I am not sure," contradicting my previous answer; so that even if anything did happen, it would have nothing at all to do with me.
"I am not sure" is a most useful phrase.
Inexperienced and rash young men often take it upon themselves to solve people's problems for them or choose doctors for them, and if by any chance things turn out badly, they are probably held to blame; but by simply concluding with this phrase "I am not sure," one can free oneself of all responsibility. At this time I felt even more strongly the necessity for such a phrase, since even in speaking with a beggar woman there was no dispensing with it.
However, I continued to feel uncomfortable, and even after a night's rest my mind kept running on this, as if I had a premonition of some untoward development. In that oppressive snowy weather, in the gloomy study, this discomfort increased. It would be better to leave: I should go back to town the next day. The boiled shark's fins in the Fu Hsing Restaurant used to cost a dollar for a large portion, and I wondered if this cheap and delicious dish had increased in price or not. Although the friends who had accompanied me in the old days had scattered, even if I was alone the shark's fins still had to be tasted. At all events, I made up my mind to leave the next day.
After experiencing many times that things which I hoped would not happen and felt should not happen invariably did happen, I was desperately afraid this would prove another such case. And, indeed, strange things did begin to happen. Towards evening I heard talking--it sounded like a discussion--in the inner room; but soon the conversation ended, and all I heard was my uncle saying loudly as he walked out: "Not earlier nor later, but just at this time--sure sign of a bad character!"
At first I felt astonished, then very uncomfortable, thinking these words must refer to me. I looked outside the door, but no one was there. I contained myself with difficulty till their servant came in before dinner to brew a pot of tea, when at last I had a chance to make some enquiries.
"With whom was Mr. Lu angry just now?" I asked.
"Why, still with Hsiang Lin's Wife," he replied briefly.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife? How was that?" I asked again.
"She's dead."
"Dead?" My heart suddenly missed a beat. I started, and probably changed colour too. But since he did not raise his head, he was probably quite unaware of how I felt. Then I controlled myself, and asked:
"When did she die?"
"When? Last night, or else today, I'm not sure."
"How did she die?"
"How did she die? Why, of poverty of course." He answered placidly and, still without having raised his head to look at me, went out.
However, my agitation was only short-lived, for now that something I had felt imminent had already taken place, I no longer had to take refuge in my "I'm not sure," or the servant's expression "dying of poverty" for comfort. My heart already felt lighter. Only from time to time something still seemed to weigh on it. Dinner was served, and my uncle solemnly accompanied me. I wanted to ask about Hsiang Lin's Wife, but knew that although he had read, "Ghosts and spirits are properties of Nature," he had retained many superstitions, and on the eve of this sacrifice it was out of the question to mention anything like death or illness. In case of necessity one could use veiled allusions, but unfortunately I did not know how to, so although questions kept rising to the tip of my tongue, I had to bite them back. From his solemn expression I suddenly suspected that he looked on me as choosing not earlier nor later but just this time to come and trouble him, and that I was also a bad character; therefore to set his mind at rest I told him at once that I intended to leave Luchen the next day and go back to the city. He did not press me greatly to stay. So we quietly finished the meal.
In winter the days are short and, now that it was snowing, darkness already enveloped the whole town. Everybody was busy beneath the lamplight, but outside the windows it was very quiet. Snow-flakes fell on the thickly piled snow, as if they were whispering, making me feel even more lonely. I sat by myself under the yellow gleam of the vegetable oil lamp and thought, "This poor woman, abandoned by people in the dust as a tiresome and worn-out toy, once left her own imprint in the dust, and those who enjoy life must have wondered at her for wishing to prolong her existence; but now at least she has been swept clear by eternity. Whether spirits exist or not I do not know; but in the present world when a meaningless existence ends, so that someone whom others are tired of seeing is no longer seen, it is just as well, both for the individual concerned and for others." I listened quietly to see if I could hear the snow falling outside the window, still pursuing this train of thought, until gradually I felt less ill at ease.
Fragments of her life, seen or heard before, now combined to form one whole.
She did not belong to Luchen. One year at the beginning of winter, when my uncle's family wanted to change their maidservant, Old Mrs. Wei brought her in and introduced her. Her hair was tied with white bands, she wore a black skirt, blue jacket and pale green bodice, and was about twenty-six, with a pale skin but rosy cheeks. Old Mrs. Wei called her Hsiang Lin's Wife, and said that she was a neighbour of her mother's family, and because her husband was dead she wanted to go out to work. My uncle knitted his brows and my aunt immediately understood that he disapproved of her because she was a widow. She looked very suitable, though, with big strong feet and hands, and a meek expression; and she had said nothing but showed every sign of being tractable and hard-working. So my aunt paid no attention to my uncle's frown, but kept her. During the period of probation she worked from morning till night, as if she found resting dull, and she was so strong that she could do a man's work; accordingly on the third day it was settled, and each month she was to be paid five hundred cash.
Everybody called her Hsiang Lin's Wife. They did not ask her her own name; but since she was introduced by someone from
The days passed quickly. She worked as hard as ever; she would eat anything, and did not spare herself. Everybody agreed that the Lu family had found a very good maidservant, who really got through more work than a hard-working man. At the end of the year she swept, mopped, killed chickens and geese and sat up to boil the sacrificial meat, single-handed, so the family did not have to hire extra help. Nevertheless she, on her side, was satisfied; gradually the trace of a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She became plumper and her skin whiter.
New Year was scarcely over when she came back from washing rice by the river looking pale, and said that in the distance she had just seen a man wandering on the opposite bank who looked very like her husband's cousin, and probably he had come to look for her. My aunt, much alarmed, made detailed enquiries, but failed to get any further information. As soon as my uncle learned of it he frowned and said, "This is bad. She must have run away from her husband's family."
Before long this inference that she had run away was confirmed.
About a fortnight later, just as everybody was beginning to forget what had happened, Old Mrs. Wei suddenly called, bringing with her a woman in her thirties who, she said, was the maidservant's mother-in-law. Although the woman looked like a villager, she behaved with great self-possession and had a ready tongue in her head. After the usual polite remarks she apologized for coming to take her daughter-in-law home, saying there was a great deal to be done at the beginning of spring, and since there were only old people and children at home they were short-handed.
"Since it is her mother-in-law who wants her to go back, what is there to be said?" was my uncle's comment.
Thereupon her wages were reckoned up. They amounted to one thousand seven hundred and fifty cash, all of which she had left with her mistress without using a single coin. My aunt gave the entire amount to her mother-in-law. The latter also took her clothes, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Lu and went out. By this time it was already noon.
"Oh, the rice! Didn't Hsiang Lin's Wife go to wash the rice?" my aunt exclaimed some time later. Probably she was rather hungry, so that she remembered lunch.
Thereupon everybody set about looking for the rice basket. My aunt went first to the kitchen, then to the hall, then to the bedroom; but not a trace of it was to be seen anywhere. My uncle went outside, but could not find it either; only when he went right down to the riverside did he see it, set down fair and square on the bank, with a bundle of vegetables beside it.
Some people there told him that a boat with a white awning had moored there in the morning, but since the awning covered the boat completely they did not know who was inside, and before this incident no one had paid any attention to it. But when Hsiang Lin's Wife came to wash rice, two men looking like country people jumped off the boat just as she was kneeling down and seizing hold of her carried her on board. After several shouts and cries, Hsiang Lin's Wife became silent: they had probably stopped her mouth. Then two women walked up, one of them a stranger and the other Old Mrs. Wei. When the people who told this story tried to peep into the boat they could not see very clearly, but Hsiang Lin's Wife seemed to be lying bound on the floor of the boat.
"Disgraceful! Still ..." said my uncle.
That day my aunt cooked the midday meal herself, and my cousin Ah Niu lit the fire.
After lunch Old Mrs. Wei came again.
"Disgraceful!" said my uncle.
"What is the meaning of this? How dare you come here again!" My aunt, who was washing dishes, started scolding as soon as she saw her. "You recommended her yourself, and then plotted to have her carried off, causing all this stir. What will people think? Are you trying to make a laughing-stock of our family?"
"Aiya, I was really taken in! Now I have come specially to clear up this business. When she asked me to find her work, how was I to know that she had left home without her mother-in-law's consent? I am very sorry, Mr. Lu, Mrs. Lu. Because I am so old and foolish and careless, I have offended my patrons. However, it is lucky for me that your family is always so generous and kind, and unwilling to be hard on your inferiors. This time I promise to find you someone good to make up for my mistake."
"Still . . ." said my uncle.
Thereupon the business of Hsiang Lin's Wife was concluded, and before long it was also forgotten.
Only my aunt, because the maidservants taken on afterwards were all lazy or fond of stealing food, or else both lazy and fond of stealing food, with not a good one in the lot, still often spoke of Hsiang Lin's Wife. On such occasions she would always say to herself, "I wonder what has become of her now?" meaning that she would like to have her back. But by the following New Year she too gave up hope.
The New Year's holiday was nearly over when Old Mrs. Wei, already half tipsy, came to pay her respects, and said it was because she had been back to Wei Village to visit her mother's family and stayed a few days that she had come late. During the course of conversation they naturally came to speak of Hsiang Lin's Wife.
"She?" said Mrs. Wei cheerfully. "She is in luck now. When her mother-in-law dragged her home, she had already promised her to the sixth son of the Ho family in Ho Village. Not long after she reached home they put her in the bridal chair and sent her off."
"Aiya! What a mother-in-law!" exclaimed my aunt in amazement.
"Ah, madam, you really talk like a great lady! We country folk, poor women, think nothing of that. She still had a younger brother-in-law who had to be married. And if they hadn't found her a husband, where would they have found the money for his wedding? But her mother-in-law is a clever and capable woman, who knows how to drive a good bargain, so she married her off into the mountains. If she had married her to someone in the same village, she wouldn't have got so much money; but since very few women are willing to marry someone living deep in the mountains, she got eighty thousand cash. Now the second son is married, the presents only cost her fifty thousand, and after paying the wedding expenses she still has over ten thousand left. Just think, doesn't this show she knows how to drive a good bargain? . . ."
"But was Hsiang Lin's Wife willing?"
"It wasn't a question of being willing or not. Of course anyone would have protested. They just tied her up with a rope, stuffed her into the bridal chair, carried her to the man's house, put on the bridal headdress, performed the ceremony in the hall and locked them in their room; and that was that. But Hsiang Lin's Wife is quite a character. I heard she really put up a great struggle, and everybody said she was different from other people because she had worked in a scholar's family. We go-betweens, madam, see a great deal. When widows remarry, some cry and shout, some threaten to commit suicide, some when they have been carried to the man's house won't go through the ceremony, and some even smash the wedding candlesticks. But Hsiang Lin's Wife was different from the rest. They said she shouted and cursed all the way, so that by the time they had carried her to Ho Village she was completely hoarse. When they dragged her out of the chair, although the two chairbearers and her young brother-in-law used all their strength, they couldn't force her to go through the ceremony. The moment they were careless enough to loosen their grip--gracious Buddha!--she threw herself against a corner of the table and knocked a big hole in her head. The blood poured out; and although they used two handfuls of incense ashes and bandaged her with two pieces of red cloth, they still couldn't stop the bleeding. Finally it took all of them together to get her shut up with her husband in the bridal chamber, where she went on cursing. Oh, it was really dreadful!" She shook her head, cast down her eyes and said no more.
"And after that what happened?" asked my aunt.
"They said the next day she still didn't get up," said Old Mrs. Wei, raising her eyes.
"And after?"
"After? She got up. At the end of the year she had a baby, a boy, who was two this New Year. These few days when I was at home some people went to Ho Village, and when they came back they said they had seen her and her son, and that both mother and baby are fat. There is no mother-in-law over her, the man is a strong fellow who can earn a living, and the house is their own. Well, well, she is really in luck."
After this even my aunt gave up talking of Hsiang Lin's Wife.
But one autumn, two New Years after they heard how lucky Hsiang Lin's Wife had been, she actually reappeared on the threshold of my uncle's house. On the table she placed a round bulb-shaped basket, and under the eaves a small roll of bedding. Her hair was still wrapped in white bands, and she wore a black skirt, blue jacket and pale green bodice. But her skin was sallow and her cheeks had lost their colour; she kept her eyes downcast, and her eyes, with their tear-stained rims, were no longer bright. Just as before, it was Old Mrs. Wei, looking very benevolent, who brought her in, and who explained at length to my aunt:
"It was really a bolt from the blue. Her husband was so strong, nobody could have guessed that a young fellow like that would die of typhoid fever. First he seemed better, but then he ate a bowl of cold rice and the sickness came back. Luckily she had the boy, and she can work, whether it is chopping wood, picking tea-leaves or raising silkworms; so at first she was able to carry on. Then who could believe that the child, too, would be carried off by a wolf? Although it was nearly the end of spring, still wolves came to the village--how could anyone have guessed that? Now she is all on her own. Her brother-in-law came to take the house, and turned her out; so she has really no way open to her but to come and ask help from her former mistress. Luckily this time there is nobody to stop her, and you happen to be wanting a new servant, so I have brought her here. I think someone who is used to your ways is much better than a new hand. . . ."
"I was really stupid, really . . ." Hsiang Lin's Wife raised her listless eyes to say. "I only knew that when it snows the wild beasts in the glen have nothing to eat and may come to the villages; I didn't know that in spring they came too. I got up at dawn and opened the door, filled a small basket with beans and called our Ah Mao to go and sit on the threshold and shell the beans. He was very obedient and always did as I told him: he went out. Then I chopped wood at the back of the house and washed the rice, and when the rice was in the pan and I wanted to boil the beans I called Ah Mao, but there was no answer; and when I went our to look, all I could see was beans scattered on the ground, but no Ah Mao. He never went to other families to play; and in fact at each place where I went to ask, there was no sign of him. I became desperate, and begged people to go to look for him. Only in the afternoon, after looking everywhere else, did they go to look in the glen and see one of his little shoes caught on a bramble. 'That's bad,' they said, 'he must have met a wolf.' And sure enough when they went further in there he was, lying in the wolf's lair, with all his entrails eaten away, his hand still tightly clutching that little basket. . . ." At this point she started crying, and was unable to complete the sentence.
My aunt had been undecided at first, but by the end of this story the rims of her eyes were rather red. After thinking for a moment she told her to take the round basket and bedding into the servants' quarters. Old Mrs. Wei heaved a long sigh as if relieved of a great burden. Hsiang Lin's Wife looked a little more at ease than when she first came and, without having to be told the way, quietly took away her bedding. From this time on she worked again as a maidservant in Luchen.
Everybody still called her Hsiang Lin's Wife.
However, she had changed a great deal. She had not been there more than three days before her master and mistress realized that she was not as quick as before. Since her memory was much worse, and her impassive face never showed the least trace of a smile, my aunt already expressed herself very far from satisfied. When the woman first arrived, although my uncle frowned as before, because they invariably had such difficulty in finding servants he did not object very strongly, only secretly warned my aunt that while such people may seem very pitiful they exert a bad moral influence. Thus although it would be all right for her to do ordinary work she must not join in the preparations for sacrifice; they would have to prepare all the dishes themselves, for otherwise they would be unclean and the ancestors would not accept them.
The most important event in my uncle's household was the ancestral sacrifice, and formerly this had been the busiest time for Hsiang Lin's Wife; but now she had very little to do. When the table was placed in the centre of the hall and the curtain fastened, she still remembered how to set out the winecups and chopsticks in the old way.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife, put those down!" said my aunt hastily.
She sheepishly withdrew her hand and went to get the candlesticks.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife, put those down!" cried my aunt hastily again. "I'll fetch them."
After walking round several times without finding anything to do, Hsiang Lin's Wife could only go hesitantly away. All she did that day was to sit by the stove and feed the fire.
The people in the town still called her Hsiang Lin's Wife, but in a different tone from before; and although they talked to her still, their manner was colder. She did not mind this in the least, only, looking straight in front of her, she would tell everybody her story, which night or day was never out of her mind.
"I was really stupid, really," she would say. "I only knew that when it snows the wild beasts in the glen have nothing to eat and may come to the villages; I didn't know that in spring they came too. I got up at dawn and opened the door, filled a small basket with beans and called our Ah Mao to go and sit on the threshold and shell them. He was very obedient and always did as I told him: he went out. Then I chopped wood at the back of the house and washed the rice, and when the rice was in the pan and I wanted to boil the beans I called Ah Mao, but there was no answer; and when I went out to look, all I could see was beans scattered on the ground, but no Ah Mao. He never went to other families to play; and in fact at each place where I went to ask, there was no sign of him. I became desperate, and begged people to go to look for him. Only in the afternoon, after looking everywhere else, did they go to look in the glen and see one of his little shoes caught on a bramble. 'That's bad,' they said, 'he must have met a wolf.' And sure enough when they went further in there he was, lying in the wolf's lair, with all his entrails eaten away, his hand still tightly clutching that small basket. . . ." At this point she would start crying and her voice would trail away.
This story was rather effective, and when men heard it they often stopped smiling and walked away disconcerted, while the women not only seemed to forgive her but their faces immediately lost their contemptuous look and they added their tears to hers. There were some old women who had not heard her speaking in the street, who went specially to look for her, to hear her sad tale. When her voice trailed away and she started to cry, they joined in, shedding the tears which had gathered in their eyes. Then they sighed, and went away satisfied, exchanging comments.
She asked nothing better than to tell her sad story over and over again, often gathering three or four hearers. But before long everybody knew it by heart, until even in the eyes of the most kindly, Buddha fearing old ladies not a trace of tears could be seen. In the end, almost everyone in the town could recite her tale, and it bored and exasperated them to hear it.
"I was really stupid, really . . ." she would begin.
"Yes, you only knew that in snowy weather the wild beasts in the mountains had nothing to eat and might come down to the villages." Promptly cutting short her recital, they walked away.
She would stand there open-mouthed, looking at them with a dazed expression, and then go away too, as if she also felt disconcerted. But she still brooded over it, hoping from other topics such as small baskets, beans and other people's children, to lead up to the story of her Ah Mao. If she saw a child of two or three, she would say, "Oh dear, if my Ah Mao were still alive, he would be just as big. . . ."
Children seeing the look in her eyes would take fright and, clutching the hems of their mothers' clothes, try to tug them away. Thereupon she would be left by herself again, and finally walk away disconcerted. Later everybody knew what she was like, and it only needed a child present for them to ask her with an artificial smile, "Hsiang Lin's Wife, if your Ah Mao were alive, wouldn't he be just as big as that?"
She probably did not realize that her story, after having been turned over and tasted by people for so many days, had long since become stale, only exciting disgust and contempt; but from the way people smiled she seemed to know that they were cold and sarcastic, and that there was no need for her to say any more. She would simply look at them, not answering a word.
In Luchen people celebrate New Year in a big way: preparations start from the twentieth day of the twelfth month onwards. That year my uncle's household found it necessary to hire a temporary manservant, but since there was still a great deal to do they also called in another maidservant, Liu Ma, to help. Chickens and geese had to be killed; but Liu Ma was a devout woman who abstained from meat, did not kill living things, and would only wash the sacrificial dishes. Hsiang Lin's Wife had nothing to do but feed the fire. She sat there, resting, watching Liu Ma as she washed the sacrificial dishes. A light snow began to fall.
"Dear me, I was really stupid," began Hsiang Lin's Wife, as if to herself, looking at the sky and sighing.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife, there you go again," said Liu Ma, looking at her impatiently. "I ask you: that wound on your forehead, wasn't it then you got it?"
"Uh, huh," she answered vaguely.
"Let me ask you: what made you willing after all?"
"Me?"
"Yes. What I think is, you must have been willing; otherwise. . . ."
"Oh dear, you don't know how strong he was.
"I don't believe it. I don't believe he was so strong that you really couldn't keep him off. You must have been willing, only you put the blame on his being so strong."
"Oh dear, you . . . you try for yourself and see." She smiled.
Liu Ma's lined face broke into a smile too, making it wrinkled like a walnut; her small beady eyes swept Hsiang Lin's Wife's forehead and fastened on her eyes. As if rather embarrassed, Hsiang Lin's Wife immediately stopped smiling, averted her eyes and looked at the snow-flakes.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife, that was really a bad bargain," continued Liu Ma mysteriously. "If you had held out longer or knocked yourself to death, it would have been better. As it is, after living with your second husband for less than two years, you are guilty of a great crime. Just think: when you go down to the lower world in future, these two men's ghosts will fight over you. To which will you go? The King of Hell will have no choice but to cut you in two and divide you between them. I think, really. . . . ."
Then terror showed in her face. This was something she had never heard in the mountains.
"I think you had better take precautions beforehand. Go to the Tutelary God's
At the time Hsiang Lin's Wife said nothing, but she must have taken this to heart, for the next morning when she got up there were dark circles beneath her eyes. After breakfast she went to the Tutelary God's
She had long since given up talking to people, because Ah Mao's story was received with such contempt; but news of her conversation with Liu Ma that day spread, and many people took a fresh interest in her and came again to tease her into talking. As for the subject, that had naturally changed to deal with the wound on her forehead.
"Hsiang Lin's Wife, I ask you: what made you willing after all that time?" one would cry.
"Oh, what a pity, to have had this knock for nothing," another looking at her scar would agree.
Probably she knew from their smiles and tone of voice that they were making fun of her, for she always looked steadily at them without saying a word, and finally did not even turn her head. All day long she kept her lips tightly closed, bearing. on her head the scar which everyone considered a mark of shame, silently shopping, sweeping the floor, washing vegetables, preparing rice. Only after nearly a year did she take from my aunt her wages which had accumulated. She changed them for twelve silver dollars, and asking for leave went to the west end of the town. In less time than it takes for a meal she was back again, looking much comforted, and with an unaccustomed light in her eyes. She told my aunt happily that she had bought a threshold in the Tutelary God's
When the time came for the ancestral sacrifice at the winter equinox, she worked harder than ever, and seeing my aunt take out the sacrificial utensils and with Ah Niu carry the table into the middle of the hall, she went confidently to fetch the winecups and chopsticks.
"Put those down, Hsiang Lin's Wife!" my aunt called out hastily.
She withdrew her hand as if scorched, her face turned ashen-grey, and instead of fetching the candlesticks she just stood there dazed. Only when my uncle came to burn incense and told her to go, did she walk away. This time the change in her was very great, for the next day not only were her eyes sunken, but even her spirit seemed broken. Moreover she became very timid, not only afraid of the dark and shadows, but also of the sight of anyone. Even her own master or mistress made her look as frightened as a little mouse that has come out of its hole in the daytime. For the rest, she would sit stupidly, like a wooden statue. In less than half a year her hair began to turn grey, and her memory became much worse, reaching a point when she was constantly forgetting to go and prepare the rice.
"What has come over Hsiang Lin's Wife? It would really have been better not to have kept her that time." My aunt would sometimes speak like this in front of her, as if to warn her.
However, she remained this way, so that it was impossible to see any hope of her improving. They finally decided to get rid of her and tell her to go back to Old Mrs. Wei. While I was at Luchen they were still only talking of this; but judging by what happened later, it is evident that this was what they must have done. Whether after leaving my uncle's household she became a beggar, or whether she went first to Old Mrs. Wei's house and later became a beggar, I do not know.
I was woken up by firecrackers exploding noisily close at hand, saw the glow of the yellow oil lamp as large as a bean, and heard the splutter of fireworks as my uncle's household celebrated the sacrifice. I knew that it was nearly dawn. I felt bewildered, hearing as in a dream the confused continuous sound of distant crackers which seemed to form one dense cloud of noise in the sky, joining the whirling snow-flakes to envelop the whole town. Wrapped in this medley of sound, relaxed and at ease, the doubt which had preyed on me from dawn to early night was swept clean away by the atmosphere of celebration, and I felt only that the saints of heaven and earth had accepted the sacrifice and incense and were all reeling with intoxication in the sky, preparing to give the people of Luchen boundless good fortune.
______
[Note: old calendar] The Chinese lunar calendar.
[Note: imperial college] The highest institute of learning in the Ching dynasty.
[Note: Kang Yu-wei] A famous reformist who lived from 1858 to 1927 and advocated constitutional monarchy.
[Note: Chen Tuan] A hermit at the beginning of the tenth century.
[Note: Kang Hsi's dictionary] A Chinese dictionary compiled under the auspices of Emperor Kang Hsi who reigned from 1662 to 1722.
[Note: Commentaries] Confucian classics.
[Note: ghosts...nature] A Confucian saying.
[Note: 10 years younger] In old
[Note: was two] It was the custom in
February 7, 1924
祝福
旧历的年底毕竟最像年底，村镇上不必说，就在天空中也显出将到新年的气象来。灰白色的沉重的晚云中间时时发出闪光，接着一声钝响，是送灶的爆竹；近处燃放的可就更强烈了，震耳的大音还没有息，空气里已经散满了幽微的火药香。我是正在这一夜回到我的故乡鲁镇的。虽说故乡，然而已没有家，所以只得暂寓在鲁四老爷的宅子里。他是我的本家，比我长一辈，应该称之曰“四叔”，是一个讲理学的老监生。他比先前并没有什么大改变，单是老了些，但也还末留胡子，一见面是寒暄，寒暄之后说我“胖了”，说我“胖了”之后即大骂其新党。但我知道，这并非借题在骂我：因为他所骂的还是康有为。但是，谈话是总不投机的了，于是不多久，我便一个人剩在书房里。
第二天我起得很迟，午饭之后，出去看了几个本家和朋友；第三天也照样。他们也都没有什么大改变，单是老了些；家中却一律忙，都在准备着“祝福”。这是鲁镇年终的大典，致敬尽礼，迎接福神，拜求来年一年中的好运气的。杀鸡，宰鹅，买猪肉，用心细细的洗，女人的臂膊都在水里浸得通红，有的还带着绞丝银镯子。煮熟之后，横七竖八的插些筷子在这类东西上，可就称为“福礼”了，五更天陈列起来，并且点上香烛，恭请福神们来享用，拜的却只限于男人，拜完自然仍然是放爆竹。年年如此，家家如此，——只要买得起福礼和爆竹之类的——今年自然也如此。天色愈阴暗了，下午竟下起雪来，雪花大的有梅花那么大，满天飞舞，夹着烟霭和忙碌的气色，将鲁镇乱成一团糟。我回到四叔的书房里时，瓦楞上已经雪白，房里也映得较光明，极分明的显出壁上挂着的朱拓的大“寿”字，陈抟老祖写的，一边的对联已经脱落，松松的卷了放在长桌上，一边的还在，道是“事理通达心气和平”。我又无聊赖的到窗下的案头去一翻，只见一堆似乎未必完全的《康熙字典》，一部《近思录集注》和一部《四书衬》。无论如何、我明天决计要走了。
况且，一直到昨天遇见祥林嫂的事，也就使我不能安住。那是下午，我到镇的东头访过一个朋友，走出来，就在河边遇见她；而且见她瞪着的眼睛的视线，就知道明明是向我走来的。我这回在鲁镇所见的人们中，改变之大，可以说无过于她的了：五年前的花白的头发，即今已经全白，会不像四十上下的人；脸上瘦削丕堪，黄中带黑，而且消尽了先前悲哀的神色，仿佛是木刻似的；只有那眼珠间或一轮，还可以表示她是一个活物。她一手提着竹篮。内中一个破碗，空的；一手技着一支比她更长的竹竿，下端开了裂：她分明已经纯乎是一个乞丐了。
我就站住，豫备她来讨钱。
“你回来了？”她先这样问。
“是的。”
“这正好。你是识字的，又是出门人，见识得多。我正要问你一件事——”她那没有精采的眼睛忽然发光了。
我万料不到她却说出这样的话来，诧异的站着。
“就是——”她走近两步，放低了声音，极秘密似的切切的说，“一个人死了之后，究竟有没有魂灵的？”
我很悚然，一见她的眼钉着我的，背上也就遭了芒刺一般，比在学校里遇到不及豫防的临时考，教师又偏是站在身旁的时候，惶急得多了。对于魂灵的有无，我自己是向来毫不介意的；但在此刻，怎样回答她好呢？我在极短期的踌躇中，想，这里的人照例相信鬼，“然而她，却疑惑了，——或者不如说希望：希望其有，又希望其无……，人何必增添末路的人的苦恼，一为她起见，不如说有罢。
“也许有罢，——我想。”我于是吞吞吐虹的说。
“那么，也就有地狱了？”
“啊！地狱？”我很吃惊，只得支吾者，“地狱？——论理，就该也有。——然而也未必，……谁来管这等事……。”
“那么，死掉的一家的人，都能见面的？”
“唉唉，见面不见面呢？……”这时我已知道自己也还是完全一个愚人，什么踌躇，什么计画，都挡不住三句问，我即刻胆怯起来了，便想全翻过先前的话来，“那是，……实在，我说不清……。其实，究竟有没有魂灵，我也说不清。”
我乘她不再紧接的问，迈开步便走，勿勿的逃回四叔的家中，心里很觉得不安逸。自己想，我这答话怕于她有些危险。她大约因为在别人的祝福时候，感到自身的寂寞了，然而会不会含有别的什么意思的呢？——或者是有了什么豫感了？倘有别的意思，又因此发生别的事，则我的答活委实该负若干的责任……。但随后也就自笑，觉得偶尔的事，本没有什么深意义，而我偏要细细推敲，正无怪教育家要说是生着神经病；而况明明说过“说不清”，已经推翻了答话的全局，即使发生什么事，于我也毫无关系了。
“说不清”是一句极有用的话。不更事的勇敢的少年，往往敢于给人解决疑问，选定医生，万一结果不佳，大抵反成了怨府，然而一用这说不清来作结束，便事事逍遥自在了。我在这时，更感到这一句话的必要，即使和讨饭的女人说话，也是万不可省的。
但是我总觉得不安，过了一夜，也仍然时时记忆起来，仿佛怀着什么不祥的豫感，在阴沉的雪天里，在无聊的书房里，这不安愈加强烈了。不如走罢，明天进城去。福兴楼的请墩鱼翅，一元一大盘，价廉物美，现在不知增价了否？往日同游的朋友，虽然已经云散，然而鱼翅是不可不吃的，即使只有我一个……。无论如何，我明天决计要走了。
我因为常见些但愿不如所料，以为未毕竟如所料的事，却每每恰如所料的起来，所以很恐怕这事也一律。果然，特别的情形开始了。傍晚，我竟听到有些人聚在内室里谈话，仿佛议论什么事似的，但不一会，说话声也就止了，只有四叔且走而且高声的说：
“不早不迟，偏偏要在这时候——这就可见是一个谬种！”
我先是诧异，接着是很不安，似乎这话于我有关系。试望门外，谁也没有。好容易待到晚饭前他们的短工来冲茶，我才得了打听消息的机会。
“刚才，四老爷和谁生气呢？”我问。
“还不是和样林嫂？”那短工简捷的说。
“祥林嫂？怎么了？”我又赶紧的问。
“老了。”
“死了？”我的心突然紧缩，几乎跳起来，脸上大约也变了色，但他始终没有抬头，所以全不觉。我也就镇定了自己，接着问：
“什么时候死的？”
“什么时候？——昨天夜里，或者就是今天罢。——我说不清。”
“怎么死的？”
“怎么死的？——还不是穷死的？”他淡然的回答，仍然没有抬头向我看，出去了。
然而我的惊惶却不过暂时的事，随着就觉得要来的事，已经过去，并不必仰仗我自己的“说不清”和他之所谓“穷死的”的宽慰，心地已经渐渐轻松；不过偶然之间，还似乎有些负疚。晚饭摆出来了，四叔俨然的陪着。我也还想打听些关于祥林嫂的消息，但知道他虽然读过“鬼神者二气之良能也”，而忌讳仍然极多，当临近祝福时候，是万不可提起死亡疾病之类的话的，倘不得已，就该用一种替代的隐语，可惜我又不知道，因此屡次想问，而终于中止了。我从他俨然的脸色上，又忽而疑他正以为我不早不迟，偏要在这时候来打搅他，也是一个谬种，便立刻告诉他明天要离开鲁镇，进城去，趁早放宽了他的心。他也不很留。这佯闷闷的吃完了一餐饭。
冬季日短，又是雪天，夜色早已笼罩了全市镇。人们都在灯下匆忙，但窗外很寂静。雪花落在积得厚厚的雪褥上面，听去似乎瑟瑟有声，使人更加感得沉寂。我独坐在发出黄光的莱油灯下，想，这百无聊赖的祥林嫂，被人们弃在尘芥堆中的，看得厌倦了的陈旧的玩物，先前还将形骸露在尘芥里，从活得有趣的人们看来，恐怕要怪讶她何以还要存在，现在总算被无常打扫得于干净净了。魂灵的有无，我不知道；然而在现世，则无聊生者不生，即使厌见者不见，为人为己，也还都不错。我静听着窗外似乎瑟瑟作响的雪花声，一面想，反而渐渐的舒畅起来。
然而先前所见所闻的她的半生事迹的断片，至此也联成一片了。
她不是鲁镇人。有一年的冬初，四叔家里要换女工，做中人的卫老婆子带她进来了，头上扎着白头绳，乌裙，蓝夹袄，月白背心，年纪大约二十六七，脸色青黄，但两颊却还是红的。卫老婆子叫她祥林嫂，说是自己母家的邻舍，死了当家人，所以出来做工了。四叔皱了皱眉，四婶已经知道了他的意思，是在讨厌她是一个寡妇。但是她模样还周正，手脚都壮大，又只是顺着限，不开一句口，很像一个安分耐劳的人，便不管四叔的皱眉，将她留下了。试工期内，她整天的做，似乎闲着就无聊，又有力，简直抵得过一个男子，所以第三天就定局，每月工钱五百文。
大家都叫她祥林嫂；没问她姓什么，但中人是卫家山人，既说是邻居，那大概也就姓卫了。她不很爱说话，别人问了才回答，答的也不多。直到十几天之后，这才陆续的知道她家里还有严厉的婆婆，一个小叔子，十多岁，能打柴了；她是春天没了丈夫的；他本来也打柴为生，比她小十岁：大家所知道的就只是这一点。
日子很快的过去了，她的做工却毫没有懈，食物不论，力气是不惜的。人们都说鲁四老爷家里雇着了女工，实在比勤快的男人还勤快。到年底，扫尘，洗地，杀鸡，宰鹅，彻夜的煮福礼，全是一人担当，竟没有添短工。然而她反满足，口角边渐渐的有了笑影，脸上也白胖了。
新年才过，她从河边掏米回来时，忽而失了色，说刚才远远地看见几个男人在对岸徘徊，很像夫家的堂伯，恐怕是正在寻她而来的。四婶很惊疑，打听底细，她又不说。四叔一知道，就皱一皱眉，道：
“这不好。恐怕她是逃出来的。”
她诚然是逃出来的，不多久，这推想就证实了。
此后大约十几天，大家正已渐渐忘却了先前的事，卫老婆子忽而带了一个三十多岁的女人进来了，说那是详林嫂的婆婆。那女人虽是山里人模样，然而应酬很从容，说话也能干，寒暄之后，就赔罪，说她特来叫她的儿媳回家去，因为开春事务忙，而家中只有老的和小的，人手不够了。
“既是她的婆婆要她回去，那有什么话可说呢。”四叔说。
于是算清了工钱，一共一千七百五十文，她全存在主人家，一文也还没有用，便都交给她的婆婆。那女人又取了衣服，道过谢，出去了。其时已经是正午。
“阿呀，米呢？祥林嫂不是去淘米的么？……”好一会，四婶这才惊叫起来。她大约有些饿，记得午饭了。
于是大家分头寻淘箩。她先到厨下，次到堂前，后到卧房，全不见掏箩的影子。四叔踱出门外，也不见，一直到河边，才见平平正正的放在岸上，旁边还有一株菜。
看见的人报告说，河里面上午就泊了一只白篷船，篷是全盖起来的，不知道什么人在里面，但事前也没有人去理会他。待到祥林嫂出来掏米，刚刚要跪下去，那船里便突然跳出两个男人来，像是山里人，一个抱住她，一个帮着，拖进船去了。样林嫂还哭喊了几声，此后便再没有什么声息，大约给用什么堵住了罢。接着就走上两个女人来，一个不认识，一个就是卫婆于。窥探舱里，不很分明，她像是捆了躺在船板上。
“可恶！然而……。”四叔说。
这一天是四婶自己煮中饭；他们的儿子阿牛烧火。
午饭之后，卫老婆子又来了。
“可恶！”四叔说。
“你是什么意思？亏你还会再来见我们。”四婶洗着碗，一见面就愤愤的说，“你自己荐她来，又合伙劫她去，闹得沸反盈天的，大家看了成个什么样子？你拿我们家里开玩笑么？”
“阿呀阿呀，我真上当。我这回，就是为此特地来说说清楚的。她来求我荐地方，我那里料得到是瞒着她的婆婆的呢。对不起，四老爷，四太太。总是我老发昏不小心，对不起主顾。幸而府上是向来宽洪大量，不肯和小人计较的。这回我一定荐一个好的来折罪……。”
“然而……。”四叔说。
于是祥林嫂事件便告终结，不久也就忘却了。
只有四嫂，因为后来雇用的女工，大抵非懒即馋，或者馋而且懒，左右不如意，所以也还提起祥林嫂。每当这些时候，她往往自言自语的说，“她现在不知道怎么佯了？”意思是希望她再来。但到第二年的新正，她也就绝了望。
新正将尽，卫老婆子来拜年了，已经喝得醉醺醺的，自说因为回了一趟卫家山的娘家，住下几天，所以来得迟了。她们问答之间，自然就谈到祥林嫂。
“她么？”卫若婆子高兴的说，“现在是交了好运了。她婆婆来抓她回去的时候，是早已许给了贺家坳的贸老六的，所以回家之后不几天，也就装在花轿里抬去了。”
“阿呀，这样的婆婆！……”四婶惊奇的说。
“阿呀，我的太太！你真是大户人
“祥林嫂竟肯依？……”
“这有什么依不依。——闹是谁也总要闹一闹的，只要用绳子一捆，塞在花轿里，抬到男家，捺上花冠，拜堂，关上房门，就完事了。可是详林嫂真出格，听说那时实在闹得利害，大家还都说大约因为在念书人家做过事，所以与众不同呢。太太，我们见得多了：回头人出嫁，哭喊的也有，说要寻死觅活的也有，抬到男家闹得拜不成天地的也有，连花烛都砸了的也有。样林嫂可是异乎寻常，他们说她一路只是嚎，骂，抬到贺家坳，喉咙已经全哑了。拉出轿来，两个男人和她的小叔子使劲的捺住她也还拜不成夭地。他们一不小心，一松手，阿呀，阿弥陀佛，她就一头撞在香案角上，头上碰了一个大窟窿，鲜血直流，用了两把香灰，包上两块红布还止不住血呢。直到七手八脚的将她和男人反关在新房里，还是骂，阿呀呀，这真是……。”她摇一摇头，顺下眼睛，不说了。
“后来怎么样呢？”四婢还问。
“听说第二天也没有起来。”她抬起眼来说。
“后来呢？”
“后来？——起来了。她到年底就生了一个孩子，男的，新年就两岁了。我在娘家这几天，就有人到贺家坳去，回来说看见他们娘儿俩，母亲也胖，儿子也胖；上头又没有婆婆，男人所有的是力气，会做活；房子是自家的。——唉唉，她真是交了好运了。”
从此之后，四婶也就不再提起祥林嫂。
但有一年的秋季，大约是得到祥林嫂好运的消息之后的又过了两个新年，她竟又站在四叔家的堂前了。桌上放着一个荸荠式的圆篮，檐下一个小铺盖。她仍然头上扎着白头绳，乌裙，蓝夹祆，月白背心，脸色青黄，只是两颊上已经消失了血色，顺着眼，眼角上带些泪痕，眼光也没有先前那样精神了。而且仍然是卫老婆子领着，显出慈悲模样，絮絮的对四婶说：
“……这实在是叫作‘天有不测风云’，她的男人是坚实人，谁知道年纪青青，就会断送在伤寒上？本来已经好了的，吃了一碗冷饭，复发了。幸亏有儿子；她又能做，打柴摘茶养蚕都来得，本来还可以守着，谁知道那孩子又会给狼衔去的呢？春天快完了，村上倒反来了狼，谁料到？现在她只剩了一个光身了。大伯来收屋，又赶她。她真是走投无路了，只好来求老主人。好在她现在已经再没有什么牵挂，太太家里又凄巧要换人，所以我就领她来。——我想，熟门熟路，比生手实在好得多……。”
“我真傻，真的，”祥林嫂抬起她没有神采的眼睛来，接着说。“我单知道下雪的时候野兽在山坳里没有食吃，会到村里来；我不知道春天也会有。我一清早起来就开了门，拿小篮盛了一篮豆，叫我们的阿毛坐在门槛上剥豆去。他是很听话的，我的话句句听；他出去了。我就在屋后劈柴，掏米，米下了锅，要蒸豆。我叫阿毛，没有应，出去口看，只见豆撒得一地，没有我们的阿毛了。他是不到别家去玩的；各处去一问，果然没有。我急了，央人出去寻。直到下半天，寻来寻去寻到山坳里，看见刺柴上桂着一只他的小鞋。大家都说，糟了，怕是遭了狼了。再进去；他果然躺在草窠里，肚里的五脏已经都给吃空了，手上还紧紧的捏着那只小篮呢。……”她接着但是呜咽，说不出成句的话来。
四婶起刻还踌踌，待到听完她自己的话，眼圈就有些红了。她想了一想，便教拿圆篮和铺盖到下房去。卫老婆子仿佛卸了一肩重相似的嘘一口气，祥林嫂比初来时候神气舒畅些，不待指引，自己驯熟的安放了铺盖。她从此又在鲁镇做女工了。
大家仍然叫她祥林嫂。
然而这一回，她的境遇却改变得非常大。上工之后的两三天，主人们就觉得她手脚已没有先前一样灵活，记性也坏得多，死尸似的脸上又整日没有笑影，四婶的口气上，已颇有些不满了。当她初到的时候，四叔虽然照例皱过眉，但鉴于向来雇用女工之难，也就并不大反对，只是暗暗地告诫四姑说，这种人虽然似乎很可怜，但是败坏风俗的，用她帮忙还可以，祭祀时候可用不着她沾手，一切饭莱，只好自已做，否则，不干不净，祖宗是不吃的。
四叔家里最重大的事件是祭祀，祥林嫂先前最忙的时候也就是祭祀，这回她却清闲了。桌子放在堂中央，系上桌帏，她还记得照旧的去分配酒杯和筷子。
“祥林嫂，你放着罢！我来摆。”四婶慌忙的说。
她讪讪的缩了手，又去取烛台。
“祥林嫂，你放着罢！我来拿。”四婶又慌忙的说。
她转了几个圆圈，终于没有事情做，只得疑惑的走开。她在这一天可做的事是不过坐在灶下烧火。
镇上的人们也仍然叫她祥林嫂，但音调和先前很不同；也还和她讲话，但笑容却冷冷的了。她全不理会那些事，只是直着眼睛，和大家讲她自己日夜不忘的故事：
“我真傻，真的，”她说，“我单知道雪天是野兽在深山里没有食吃，会到村里来；我不知道春天也会有。我一大早起来就开了门，拿小篮盛了一篮豆，叫我们的阿毛坐在门槛上剥豆去。他是很听话的孩子，我的话句句听；他就出去了。我就在屋后劈柴，淘米，米下了锅，打算蒸豆。我叫，‘阿毛！’没有应。出去一看，只见豆撒得满地，没有我们的阿毛了。各处去一向，都没有。我急了，央人去寻去。直到下半天，几个人寻到山坳里，看见刺柴上挂着一只他的小鞋。大家都说，完了，怕是遭了狼了；再进去；果然，他躺在草窠里，肚里的五脏已经都给吃空了，可怜他手里还紧紧的捏着那只小篮呢。……”她于是淌下眼泪来，声音也呜咽了。
这故事倒颇有效，男人听到这里，往往敛起笑容，没趣的走了开去；女人们却不独宽恕了她似的，脸上立刻改换了鄙薄的神气，还要陪出许多眼泪来。有些老女人没有在街头听到她的话，便特意寻来，要听她这一段悲惨的故事。直到她说到呜咽，她们也就一齐流下那停在眼角上的眼泪，叹息一番，满足的去了，一面还纷纷的评论着。
她就只是反复的向人说她悲惨的故事，常常引住了三五个人来听她。但不久，大家也都听得纯熟了，便是最慈悲的念佛的老太太们，眼里也再不见有一点泪的痕迹。后来全镇的人们几乎都能背诵她的话，一听到就烦厌得头痛。
“我真傻，真的，”她开首说。
“是的，你是单知道雪天野兽在深山里没有食吃，才会到村里来的。”他们立即打断她的话，走开去了。
她张着口怔怔的站着，直着眼睛看他们，接着也就走了，似乎自己也觉得没趣。但她还妄想，希图从别的事，如小篮，豆，别人的孩子上，引出她的阿毛的故事来。倘一看见两三岁的小孩子，她就说：
“唉唉，我们的阿毛如果还在，也就有这么大了……”
孩子看见她的眼光就吃惊，牵着母亲的衣襟催她走。于是又只剩下她一个，终于没趣的也走了，后来大家又都知道了她的脾气，只要有孩子在眼前，便似笑非笑的先问她，道：
“祥林嫂，你们的阿毛如果还在，不是也就有这么大了么？”
她未必知道她的悲哀经大家咀嚼赏鉴了许多天，早已成为渣滓，只值得烦厌和唾弃；但从人们的笑影上，也仿佛觉得这又冷又尖，自己再没有开口的必要了。她单是一瞥他们，并不回答一句话。
鲁镇永远是过新年，
“唉唉，我真傻，”祥林嫂看了天空，叹息着，独语似的说。
“祥林嫂，你又来了。”柳妈不耐烦的看着她的脸，说。“我问你：你额角上的伤痕，不就是那时撞坏的么？”
“晤晤。”她含胡的回答。
“我问你：你那时怎么后来竟依了呢？”
“我么？……”，
“你呀。我想：这总是你自己愿意了，不然……。”
“阿阿，你不知道他力气多么大呀。”
“我不信。我不信你这么大的力气，真会拗他不过。你后来一定是自己肯了，倒推说他力气大。”
“阿阿，你……你倒自己试试着。”她笑了。
柳妈的打皱的脸也笑起来，使她蹙缩得像一个核桃，干枯的小眼睛一看祥林嫂的额角，又钉住她的眼。祥林嫂似很局促了，立刻敛了笑容，旋转眼光，自去看雪花。
“祥林嫂，你实在不合算。”柳妈诡秘的说。“再一强，或者索性撞一个死，就好了。现在呢，你和你的第二个男人过活不到两年，倒落了一件大罪名。你想，你将来到阴司去，那两个死鬼的男人还要争，你给了谁好呢？阎罗大王只好把你锯开来，分给他们。我想，这真是……”
她脸上就显出恐怖的神色来，这是在山村里所未曾知道的。
“我想，你不如及早抵当。你到土地庙里去捐一条门槛，当作你的替身，给千人踏，万人跨，赎了这一世的罪名，免得死了去受苦。”
她当时并不回答什么话，但大约非常苦闷了，第二天早上起来的时候，两眼上便都围着大黑圈。早饭之后，她便到镇的西头的土地庙里去求捐门槛，庙祝起初执意不允许，直到她急得流泪，才勉强答应了。价目是大钱十二千。她久已不和人们交口，因为阿毛的故事是早被大家厌弃了的；但自从和柳妈谈了天，似乎又即传扬开去，许多人都发生了新趣味，又来逗她说话了。至于题目，那自然是换了一个新样，专在她额上的伤疤。
“祥林嫂，我问你：你那时怎么竟肯了？”一个说。
“唉，可惜，白撞了这－下。”一个看着她的疤，应和道。
她大约从他们的笑容和声调上，也知道是在嘲笑她，所以总是瞪着眼睛，不说一句话，后来连头也不回了。她整日紧闭了嘴唇，头上带着大家以为耻辱的记号的那伤痕，默默的跑街，扫地，洗莱，淘米。快够一年，她才从四婶手里支取了历来积存的工钱，换算了十二元鹰洋，请假到镇的西头去。但不到一顿饭时候，她便回来，神气很舒畅，眼光也分外有神，高兴似的对四婶说，自己已经在土地庙捐了门槛了。
冬至的祭祖时节，她做得更出力，看四婶装好祭品，和阿牛将桌子抬到堂屋中央，她便坦然的去拿酒杯和筷子。
“你放着罢，祥林嫂！”四婶慌忙大声说。
她像是受了炮烙似的缩手，脸色同时变作灰黑，也不再去取烛台，只是失神的站着。直到四叔上香的时候，教她走开，她才走开。这一回她的变化非常大，第二天，不但眼睛窈陷下去，连精神也更不济了。而且很胆怯，不独怕暗夜，怕黑影，即使看见人，虽是自己的主人，也总惴惴的，有如在白天出穴游行的小鼠，否则呆坐着，直是一个木偶人。不半年，头发也花白起来了，记性尤其坏，甚而至于常常忘却了去掏米。
“祥林嫂怎么这样了？倒不如那时不留她。”四婶有时当面就这样说，似乎是警告她。
然而她总如此，全不见有伶俐起来的希望。他们于是想打发她走了，教她回到卫老婆于那里去。但当我还在鲁镇的时候，不过单是这样说；看现在的情状，可见后来终于实行了。然而她是从四叔家出去就成了乞丐的呢，还是先到卫老婆子家然后再成乞丐的呢？那我可不知道。
我给那些因为在近旁而极响的爆竹声惊醒，看见豆一般大的黄色的灯火光，接着又听得毕毕剥剥的鞭炮，是四叔家正在“祝福”了；知道已是五更将近时候。我在蒙胧中，又隐约听到远处的爆竹声联绵不断，似乎合成一天音响的浓云，夹着团团飞舞的雪花，拥抱了全市镇。我在这繁响的拥抱中，也懒散而且舒适，从白天以至初夜的疑虑，全给祝福的空气一扫而空了，只觉得天地圣众歆享了牲醴和香烟，都醉醺醺的在空中蹒跚，豫备给鲁镇的人们以无限的幸福。
（原刊
IN THE WINE SHOP 在酒楼上
During my travels from the North to the Southeast I made a detour to my home, then to S----. This town is only about ten miles from my native place, and by small boat can be reached in less than half a day. I had taught in a school here for a year. In the depth of winter, after snow, the landscape was bleak. Indolence and nostalgia combined finally made me put up for a short time in the Lo Szu Inn, one which had not been there before. The town was small. I looked for several old colleagues I thought I might find, but not one was there: they had long since gone their different ways. When I passed the gate of the school, I found that too had changed its name and appearance, which made me feel quite a stranger. In less than two hours my enthusiasm had waned, and I rather reproached myself for coming.
The inn in which I stayed let rooms but did not supply meals; rice and dishes could be ordered from outside, but they were quite unpalatable, tasting like mud. Outside the window was only a stained and spotted wall, covered with withered moss. Above was the slaty sky, dead white without any colouring; moreover a light flurry of snow had begun to fall. I had had a poor lunch to begin with, and had nothing to do to while away the time, so quite naturally I thought of a small wine shop I had known very well in the old days, called "One Barrel House," which, I reckoned, could not be far from the hotel. I immediately locked the door of my room and set out for this tavern. Actually, all I wanted was to escape the boredom of my stay. I did not really want to drink. "One Barrel House" was still there, its narrow, mouldering front and dilapidated signboard unchanged. But from the landlord down to the waiter there was not a single person I knew--in "One Barrel House" too I had become a complete stranger. Still I walked up the familiar flight of stairs in the corner of the room to the little upper storey. Up here were the same five small wooden tables, unchanged. Only the back window, which had originally had a wooden lattice, had been fitted with panes of glass.
"A catty of yellow wine. Dishes? Ten slices of fried beancurd, with plenty of pepper sauce!"
As I gave the order to the waiter who had come up with me, I walked to the back and sat down at the table by the window. This upstairs room was absolutely empty, which enabled me to take possession of the best seat from which I could look out on to the deserted courtyard beneath. The courtyard probably did not belong to the wine shop. I had looked out at it many times before in the past, sometimes in snowy weather too. Now, to eyes accustomed to the North, the sight was sufficiently striking: several old plum trees, rivals of the snow, were actually in full blossom as if entirely oblivious of winter; while beside the crumbling pavilion there was still a camellia with a dozen crimson blossoms standing out against its thick, dark green foliage, blazing in the snow as bright as fire, indignant and arrogant, as if despising the wanderer's wanderlust. I suddenly remembered the moistness of the heaped snow here, clinging, glistening and shining, quite unlike the dry northern snow which, when a high wind blows, will fly up and fill the sky like mist. . . .
"Your wine, sir," said the waiter carelessly, and put down the cup, chopsticks, wine pot and dish. The wine had come. I turned to the table, set everything straight and filled my cup. I felt that the North was certainly not my home, yet when I came South I could only count as a stranger. The dry snow up there, which flew like powder, and the soft snow here, which clung lingeringly, seemed equally alien to me. In a slightly melancholy mood, I took a leisurely sip of wine. The wine was quite pure, and the fried beancurd was excellently cooked. The only pity was that the pepper sauce was too thin, but then the people of S---- had never understood pungent flavours .
Probably because it was only afternoon, the place had none of the atmosphere of a tavern. I had already drunk three cups, but apart from myself there were still only four bare wooden tables in the place. Looking at the deserted courtyard I began to feel lonely, yet I did not want any other customers to come up. I could not help being irritated by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and was relieved to find it was only the waiter. And so I drank another two cups of wine.
"This time it must be a customer," I thought, for the footsteps sounded much slower than those of the waiter. When I judged that he must be at the top of the stairs, I raised my head rather apprehensively to look at this unwelcome company. I gave a start and stood up. I never guessed that here of all places I should unexpectedly meet a friend--if such he would still let me call him. The newcomer was an old classmate who had been my colleague when I was a teacher, and although he had changed a great deal I knew him as soon as I saw him. Only he had become much slower in his movements, very unlike the nimble and active Lu Wei-fu of the old days.
"Ah, Wei-fu, is it you? I never expected to meet you here."
"Oh, it's you? Neither did I ever. . . ."
I urged him to join me, but only after some hesitation did he seem willing to sit down. At first I thought this very strange, and felt rather hurt and displeased. When I looked closely at him he had still the same disorderly hair and beard and pale oblong face, but he was thinner and weaker. He looked very quiet, or perhaps dispirited, and his eyes beneath their thick black brows had lost their alertness; but when he looked slowly around in the direction of the deserted courtyard, from his eyes suddenly flashed one of those piercing looks which I had seen so often at school.
"Well," I said cheerfully but somewhat awkwardly, "we have not seen each other now for about ten years. I heard long ago that you were at
"I was just the same. I have been at
"What are you doing in
"Teaching in the family of a fellow-provincial."
"And before that?"
"Before that?" He took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and put it in his mouth, then, watching the smoke as he puffed, said reflectively, "Simply futile work, equivalent to doing nothing at all."
He also asked what had happened to me since we separated. I gave him a rough idea, at the same time calling the waiter to bring a cup and chopsticks, so that he could share my wine while we had another two catties heated. We also ordered dishes. In the past we had never stood on ceremony, but now we began to be so formal that neither would choose a dish, and finally we fixed on four suggested by the waiter: peas spiced with aniseed, cold meat, fried beancurd, and salted fish.
"As soon as I came back I knew I was a fool." Holding his cigarette in one hand and the winecup in the other, he spoke with a bitter smile. "When I was young, I saw the way bees or flies stopped in one place. If they were frightened they would fly off, but after flying in a small circle they would come back again to stop in the same place; and I thought this really very foolish, as well as pathetic. But I didn't think that I would fly back myself, after only flying in a small circle. And I didn't think you would come back either. Couldn't you have flown a little further?"
"That's difficult to say. Probably I too have simply flown in a small circle." I also spoke with a rather bitter smile. "But why did you fly back?"
"For something quite futile." In one gulp he emptied his cup, then took several pulls at his cigarette, and opened his eyes a little wider. "Futile--but you may as well hear about it."
The waiter brought up the freshly heated wine and dishes, and set them on the table. The smoke and the fragrance of fried beancurd seemed to make the upstairs room more cheerful, while outside the snow fell still more thickly.
"Perhaps you knew," he went on, "that I had a little brother who died when he was three, and was buried here in the country. I can't even remember clearly what he looked like, but I have heard my mother say he was a very lovable child, and very fond of me. Even now it brings tears to her eyes to speak of him. This spring an elder cousin wrote to tell us that the ground beside his grave was gradually being swamped, and he was afraid before long it would slip into the river: we should go at once and do something about it. As soon as my mother knew this, she became very upset, and couldn't sleep for several nights--she can read letters by herself, you know. But what could I do? I had no money, no time: there was nothing that could be done.
"Only now, taking advantage of my New Year's holiday, I have been able to come South to move his grave." He drained another cup of wine, looked out of the window and exclaimed: "Could you find anything like this up North? Flowers in thick snow, and beneath the snow unfrozen ground. So the day before yesterday I bought a small coffin, because I reckoned that the one under the ground must have rotted long ago--I took cotton and bedding, hired four workmen, and went into the country to move his grave. At the time I suddenly felt very happy, eager to dig up the grave, eager to see the body of the little brother who had been so fond of me: this was a new sensation for me. When we reached the grave, sure enough, the river water was encroaching on it and was already less than two feet away. The poor grave had not had any earth added to it for two years, and had sunk in. I stood in the snow, firmly pointed it out to the workmen, and said: 'Dig it up!'
"I really am a commonplace fellow. I felt that my voice at this juncture was rather unnatural, and that this order was the greatest I had given in all my life. But the workmen didn't find it at all strange, and simply set to work to dig. When they reached the enclosure I had a look, and indeed the wood of the coffin had rotted almost completely away, leaving only a heap of splinters and small fragments of wood. My heart beat faster and I set these aside myself very carefully, wanting to see my little brother. However, I was taken by surprise. Bedding, clothes, skeleton, all had gone! I thought: 'These have all rotted away, but I always heard that the most difficult substance to rot is hair; perhaps there is still some hair.' So I bent down and looked carefully in the mud where the pillow should have been, but there was none. Not a trace remained." I suddenly noticed that the rims of his eyes had become rather red, but realized at once that this was the effect of the wine. He had scarcely touched the dishes, but had been drinking incessantly, so that he had already drunk more than a catty, and his looks and gestures had all become more vigorous, so that he gradually resembled the Lu Wei-fu I had known. I called the waiter to heat two more measures of wine, then turned back and, taking my winecup, face to face with him, listened in silence to what he had to tell.
"Actually it need not really have been moved again; I had only to level the ground, sell the coffin, and that would have been the end of it. Although there would have been something rather singular in my going to sell the coffin, still, if the price were low enough the shop from which I bought it would have taken it, and at least I could have saved a little money for wine. But I didn't do so. I still spread out the bedding, wrapped up in cotton some of the clay where his body had been, covered it up, put it in the new coffin, moved it to the grave where my father was buried, and buried it beside him. Because I used bricks for an enclosure of the coffin I was busy again most of yesterday, supervising the work. In this way I can count the affair ended, at least enough to deceive my mother and set her mind at rest. Well, well, you look at me like that! Do you blame me for being so changed? Yes, I still remember the time when we went together to the Tutelary God's
He took out another cigarette, put it in his mouth and lit it.
"Judging by your expression, you still seem to have hope for me. Naturally I am much more obtuse than before, but there are still some things I realize. This makes me grateful to you, at the same time rather uneasy. I am afraid I am only letting down the old friends who even now still have some hope for me. . . ." He stopped and puffed several times at his cigarette before going on slowly: "Only today, just before coming to this 'One Barrel House,' I did something futile, and yet it was something I was glad to do. My former neighbour on the east side was called Chang Fu. He was a boatman and had a daughter called Ah Shun. When you came to my house in those days you might have seen her, but you certainly wouldn't have paid any attention to her, because she was so small then. Nor did she grow up to be pretty, having just an ordinary thin oval face and pale skin. Only her eyes were unusually large, with very long lashes, and the whites were as clear as a cloudless night sky--I mean the cloudless sky of the North when there is no wind; here it is not so clear. She was very capable. She lost her mother when she was in her teens, and it was her job to look after a small brother and sister; also she had to wait on her father, and all this she did very competently. She was economical too, so that the family gradually grew better off. There was scarcely a neighbour who did not praise her, and even Chang Fu often expressed his appreciation. When I left on my journey this time, my mother remembered her--old people's memories are so long. She recalled that in the past Ah Shun once saw someone wearing artificial red flowers in her hair, and wanted a spray for herself. When she couldn't get one she cried nearly all night, so that she was beaten by her father, and her eyes remained red and swollen for two or three days. These red flowers came from another province, and couldn't be bought even in S----, so how could she ever hope to have any? Since I was coming South this time, my mother told me to buy two sprays to give her.
"Far from feeling vexed at this commission, I was actually delighted. I was really glad to do something for Ah Shun. The year before last, I came back to fetch my mother, and one day when Chang Fu was at home I happened to start chatting with him. He wanted to invite me to take a bowl of gruel made of buckwheat flour, telling me that they added white sugar to it. You see, a boatman who could keep white sugar in his house was obviously not poor, and must eat very well. I let myself be persuaded and accepted, but begged that they would only give me a small bowl. He quite understood, and said to Ah Shun: 'These scholars have no appetite. You can use a small bowl, but add more sugar!' However when she had prepared the concoction and brought it in, I gave a start, for it was a large bowl, as much as I would eat in a whole day. Compared with Chang Fu's bowl, it is true, it did appear small. In all my life I had never eaten this buckwheat gruel, and now that I tasted it, it was really unpalatable, though extremely sweet. I carelessly swallowed a few mouthfuls, and had decided not to eat any more when I happened to catch a glimpse of Ah Shun standing far off in one corner of the room. Then I hadn't the heart to put down my chopsticks. I saw in her face both hope and fear--fear, no doubt, that she had prepared it badly, and hope that we would find it to our liking. I knew that if I left most of mine she would feel very disappointed and apologetic. So I screwed up my courage, opened my mouth wide and shovelled it down, eating almost as fast as Chang Fu. It was then that I learned the agony of forcing oneself to eat; I remember when I was a child and had to finish a bowl of brown sugar mixed with medicine for worms I experienced the same difficulty. I felt no resentment, though, because her half suppressed smile of satisfaction, when she came to take away our empty bowls, repaid me amply for all my discomfort. That night, although indigestion kept me from sleeping well and I had a series of nightmares, I still wished her a lifetime of happiness, and hoped the world would change for the better for her sake. Such thoughts were only the traces of my dreams in the old days. The next instant I laughed at myself, and promptly forgot them.
"I did not know before that she had been beaten on account of a spray of artificial flowers, but when my mother spoke of it I remembered the buckwheat gruel incident, and became unaccountably diligent. First I made a search in
There was a rustle outside the window, as a pile of snow slipped down from the camellia which it had bent beneath its weight; then the branches of the tree straightened themselves, showing even more clearly their dark thick foliage and bloodred flowers. The colour of the sky became more slaty. Small sparrows chirped, probably because evening was near, and since the ground was covered with snow they could find nothing to eat and would go early to their nests to sleep.
"It was only when I went to Tsinan," he looked out of the window for a moment, turned back and drained a cup of wine, took several puffs at his cigarette, and went on, "only then did I buy the artificial flowers. I didn't know whether those she had been beaten for were this kind or not; but at least these were also made of velvet. I didn't know either whether she liked a deep or a light colour, so I bought one spray of red, one spray of pink, and brought them both here.
"Just this afternoon, as soon as I had finished lunch, I went to see Chang Fu, having specially stayed an extra day for this. His house was there all right, only looking rather gloomy; or perhaps that was simply my imagination. His son and second daughter--Ah Chao--were standing at the gate. Both of them had grown. Ah Chao was quite different from her sister, and looked very plain; but when she saw me come up to their house, she quickly ran inside. When I asked the little boy, I found that Chang Fu was not at home. 'And your elder sister?' At once he stared at me wide-eyed, and asked me what I wanted her for; moreover he seemed very fierce, as if he wanted to attack me. Hesitantly I walked away. Nowadays I just let things slide. . . .
"You have no idea how much more afraid I am of calling on people than I used to be. Because I know very well how unwelcome I am, I have even come to dislike myself and, knowing this, why should I inflict myself on others? But this time I felt my errand had to be carried out, so after some reflection I went back to the firewood shop almost opposite their house. The shopkeeper's mother, Old Mrs. Fa, was there at least, and still recognized me. She actually asked me into the shop to sit down. After an exchange of polite remarks I told her why I had come back to S---- and was looking for Chang Fu. I was taken aback when she heaved a sigh and said:
"What a pity Ah Shun had not the good luck to wear these flowers you have brought.'
"Then she told me the whole story, saying, 'It was probably last spring that Ah Shun began to look pale and thin. Later she would often start crying suddenly, and if you asked her why, she wouldn't say. Sometimes she even cried all night, until Chang Fu lost his temper and scolded her, saying she had waited too long to marry and had gone mad. When autumn came, first she had a slight cold and then she took to her bed, and after that she never got up again. Only a few days before she died, she told Chang Fu that she had long ago become like her mother, often spitting blood and perspiring at night. She had hidden it, afraid that he would worry about her. One evening her uncle Chang Keng came to demand money--he was always doing that--and when she would not give him any he smiled coldly and said, "Don't be so proud; your man is not even up to me!" That upset her, but she was too shy to ask, and could only cry. As soon as Chang Fu knew this, he told her what a decent fellow her future husband was; but it was too late. Besides, she didn't believe him. "It's a good thing I'm already like this," she said. "Now nothing matters any more."'
"The old woman also said, 'If her man was really not as good as Chang Keng, that would be truly frightful! He would not be up to a chicken thief, and what sort of fellow would that be! But when he came to the funeral I saw him with my own eyes: his clothes were clean and he was very presentable. He said with tears in his eyes that he had worked hard all those years on the boat to save up money to marry, but now the girl was dead. Obviously he must really have been a good man, and everything Chang Keng said was false. It was only a pity Ah Shun believed such a rascally liar, and died for nothing. But we can't blame anyone else: this was Ah Shun's fate.'
"Since that was the case, my business was finished too. But what about the two sprays of artificial flowers I had brought with me? Well, I asked her to give them to Ah Chao. This Ah Chao no sooner saw me than she fled as if I were a wolf or some monster; I really didn't want to give them to her. However, I did give them to her, and I have only to tell my mother that Ah Shun was delighted with them, and that will be that. Who cares about such futile affairs anyway? One only wants to muddle through them somehow. When I have muddled through New Year I shall go back to teaching the Confucian classics as before."
"Are you teaching that?" I asked in astonishment.
"Of course. Did you think I was teaching English? First I had two pupils, one studying the Book of Songs, the other Mencius. Recently I have got another, a girl, who is studying the Canon for Girls. I don't even teach mathematics; not that I wouldn't teach it, but they don't want it taught."
"I could really never have guessed that you would be teaching such books."
"Their father wants them to study these. I'm an outsider, so it's all the same to me. Who cares about such futile affairs anyway? There's no need to take them seriously."
His whole face was scarlet as if he were quite drunk, but the gleam in his eyes had died down. I gave a slight sigh, and for a time found nothing to say. There was a clatter on the stairs as several customers came up. The first was short, with a round bloated face; the second was tall with a conspicuous, red nose. Behind them were others, and as they walked up the small upper floor shook. I turned to Lu Wei-fu, who was trying to catch my eyes; then I called the waiter to bring the bill.
"Is your salary enough to live on?" I asked as I prepared to leave.
"I have twenty dollars a month, not quite enough to manage on."
"Then what do you mean to do in future?"
"In future? I don't know. Just think: Has any single thing turned out as we hoped of all we planned in the past? I'm not sure of anything now, not even of what I will do tomorrow, nor even of the next minute. . . ."
The waiter brought up the bill and gave it to me. Wei-fu did not behave so formally as before, just glanced at me, then went on smoking and allowed me to pay.
We went out of the wine shop together. His hotel lay in the opposite direction to mine, so we said goodbye at the door. As I walked alone towards my hotel, the cold wind and snow beat against my face, but I felt refreshed. I saw that the sky was already dark, woven together with houses and streets into the white, shifting web of thick snow.
______
[Note: Canon for Girls] A book giving the feudal standard of behaviour for girls, and the virtues they should cultivate.
February 16, 1924
在酒楼上
我从北地向东南旅行，绕道访了我的家乡，就到Ｓ城。这城离我的故乡不过三十里，坐了小船，小半天可到，我曾在这里的学校里当过一年的教员。深冬雪后，风景凄清，懒散和怀旧的心绪联结起来，我竟暂寓在S城的洛思旅馆里了；这旅馆是先前所没有的。城圈本不大，寻访了几个以为可以会见的旧同事，一个也不在，早不知散到那里去了，经过学校的门口，也改换了名称和模样，于我很生疏。不到两个时辰，我的意兴早已索然，颇悔此来为多事了。
我所住的旅馆是租房不卖饭的，饭菜必须另外叫来，但又无味，入口如嚼泥土。窗外只有渍痕班驳的墙壁，帖着枯死的莓苔；上面是铅色的天，白皑皑的绝无精采，而且微雪又飞舞起来了。我午餐本没有饱，又没有可以消遣的事情，便很自然的想到先前有一家很熟识的小酒楼，叫一石居的，算来离旅馆并不远。我于是立即锁了房门，出街向那酒楼去。其实也无非想姑且逃避客中的无聊，并不专为买醉。一石居是在的，狭小阴湿的店面和破旧的招牌都依旧；但从掌柜以至堂倌却已没有一个熟人，我在这一石居中也完全成了生客。然而我终于跨上那走熟的屋角的扶梯去了，由此径到小楼上。上面也依然是五张小板桌；独有原是木棂的后窗却换嵌了玻璃。
“一斤绍酒。——菜？十个油豆腐，辣酱要多！”
我一面说给跟我上来的堂棺听，一面向后窗走，就在靠窗的一张桌旁坐下了。楼上“空空如也”，任我拣得最好的坐位：可以眺望楼下的废园。这园大概是不属于酒家的，我先前也曾眺望过许多回，有时也在雪天里。但现在从惯于北方的眼睛看来，却很值得惊异了：几株老梅竟斗雪开着满树的繁花，仿佛毫不以深冬为意；倒塌的亭子边还有一株山茶树，从晴绿的密叶里显出十几朵红花来，赫赫的在雪中明得如火，愤怒而且傲慢，如蔑视游人的甘心于远行。我这时又忽地想到这里积雪的滋润，著物不去，晶莹有光，不比朔雪的粉一般干，大风一吹，便飞得满空如烟雾。……
“客人，酒。……”
堂棺懒懒的说着，放下杯，筷，酒壶和碗碟，酒到了。我转脸向了板桌，排好器具，斟出酒来。觉得北方固不是我的旧乡，但南来又只能算一个客子，无论那边的干雪怎样纷飞，这里的柔雪又怎样的依恋，于我都没有什么关系了。我略带些哀愁，然而很舒服的呷一口酒。酒味很纯正；油豆腐也煮得十分好；可惜辣酱太淡薄，本来Ｓ城人是不懂得吃辣的。
大概是因为正在下午的缘故罢，这会说是酒楼，却毫无酒楼气，我已经喝下三杯酒去了，而我以外还是四张空板桌。我看着废园，渐渐的感到孤独，但又不愿有别的酒客上来。偶然听得楼梯上脚步响，便不由的有些懊恼，待到看见是堂棺，才又安心了，这样的又喝了两杯酒。
我想，这回定是酒客了，因为听得那脚步声比堂倌的要缓得多。约略料他走完了楼梯的时候，我便害怕似的抬头去看这无干的同伴，同时也就吃惊的站起来。我竟不料在这里意外的遇见朋友了，——假如他现在还许我称他为朋友。那上来的分明是我的旧同窗，也是做教员时代的旧同事，面貌虽然颇有些改变，但一见也就认识，独有行动却变得格外迂缓，很不像当年敏捷精悍的吕纬甫了。
“阿，——纬甫，是你么？我万想不到会在这里遇见你。”
“阿阿，是你？我也万想不到……”
我就邀他同坐，但他似乎略略踌躇之后，方才坐下来。我起先很以为奇，接着便有些悲伤，而且不快了。细看他相貌，也还是乱蓬蓬的须发；苍白的长方脸，然而衰瘦了。精神跟沉静，或者却是颓唐，又浓又黑的眉毛底下的眼睛也失了精采，但当他缓缓的四顾的时候，却对废园忽地闪出我在学校时代常常看见的射人的光来。
“我们，”我高兴的，然而颇不自然的说，“我们这一别，怕有十年了罢。我早知道你在济南，可是实在懒得太难，终于没有写一封信。……”
“彼此都一样。可是现在我在太原了，已经两年多，和我的母亲。我回来接她的时候，知道你早搬走了，搬得很干净。”
“你在太原做什么呢？”我问。
“教书，在一个同乡的家里。”
“这以前呢？”
“这以前么？”他从衣袋里掏出一支烟卷来，点了火衔在嘴里，看着喷出的烟雾，沉思似的说：“无非做了些无聊的事情，等于什么也没有做。”
他也问我别后的景况；我一面告诉他一个大概，一面叫堂倌先取杯筷来，使他先喝着我的酒，然后再去添二斤。其间还点菜，我们先前原是毫不客气的，但此刻却推让起来了，终于说不清那一样是谁点的，就从堂倌的口头报告上指定了四样莱：茴香豆，冻肉，油豆腐，青鱼干。
“我一回来，就想到我可笑。”他一手擎着烟卷，一只手扶着酒杯，似笑非笑的向我说。“我在少年时，看见蜂子或蝇子停在一个地方，给什么来一吓，即刻飞去了，但是飞了一个小圈子，便又回来停在原地点，便以为这实在很可笑，也可怜。可不料现在我自己也飞回来了，不过绕了一点小圈子。又不料你也回来了。你不能飞得更远些么？”
“这难说，大约也不外乎绕点小圈子罢。”我也似笑非笑的说。“但是你为什么飞回来的呢？”
“也还是为了无聊的事。”他一口喝干了一杯酒，吸几口烟，眼睛略为张大了。“无聊的。——但是我们就谈谈罢。”
堂倌搬上新添的酒菜来，排满了一桌，楼上又添了烟气和油豆腐的热气，仿佛热闹起来了；楼外的雪也越加纷纷的下。
“你也许本来知道，”他接着说，“我曾经有一个小兄弟，是三岁上死掉的，就葬在这乡下。我连他的模样都记不清楚了，但听母亲说，是一个很可爱念的孩子，和我也很相投，至今她提起来还似乎要下泪。今年春天，一个堂兄就来了一封信，说他的坟边已经渐渐的浸了水，不久怕要陷入河里去了，须得赶紧去设法。母亲一知道就很着急，几乎几夜睡不着，——她又自己能看信的。然而我能有什么法子呢？没有钱，没有工夫：当时什么法也没有。
“一直挨到现在，趁着年假的闲空，我才得回南给他来迁葬。”他又喝干一杯酒，看说窗外，说，“这在那边那里能如此呢？积雪里会有花，雪地下会不冻。就在前天，我在城里买了一口小棺材，——因为我豫料那地下的应该早已朽烂了，——带着棉絮和被褥，雇了四个土工，下乡迁葬去。我当时忽而很高兴，愿意掘一回坟，愿意一见我那曾经和我很亲睦的小兄弟的骨殖：这些事我生平都没有经历过。到得坟地，果然，河水只是咬进来，离坟已不到二尺远。可怜的坟，两年没有培土，也平下去了。我站在雪中，决然的指着他对土工说，‘掘开来！’我实在是一个庸人，我这时觉得我的声音有些希奇，这命令也是一个在我一生中最为伟大的命令。但土工们却毫不骇怪，就动手掘下去了。待到掘着圹穴，我便过去看，果然，棺木已经快要烂尽了，只剩下一堆木丝和小木片。我的心颤动着，自去拔开这些，很小心的，要看一看我的小兄弟，然而出乎意外！被褥，衣服，骨骼，什么也没有。我想，这些都消尽了，向来听说最难烂的是头发，也许还有罢。我便伏下去，在该是枕头所在的泥土里仔仔细细的看，也没有。踪影全无！”
我忽而看见他眼圈微红了，但立即知道是有了酒意。他总不很吃菜，单是把酒不停的喝，早喝了一斤多，神情和举动都活泼起来，渐近于先前所见的吕纬甫了，我叫堂倌再添二斤酒，然后回转身，也拿着酒杯，正对面默默的听着。
“其实，这本已可以不必再迁，只要平了土，卖掉棺材；就此完事了的。我去卖棺材虽然有些离奇，但只要价钱极便宜，原铺子就许要，至少总可以捞回几文酒钱来。但我不这佯，我仍然铺好被褥，用棉花裹了些他先前身体所在的地方的泥土，包起来，装在新棺材里，运到我父亲埋着的坟地上，在他坟旁埋掉了。因为外面用砖墩，昨天又忙了我大半天：监工。但这样总算完结了一件事，足够去骗骗我的母亲，使她安心些。——阿阿，你这样的看我，你怪我何以和先前太不相同了么？是的，我也还记得我们同到城隍庙里去拔掉神像的胡子的时候，连日议论些改革中国的方法以至于打起来的时候。但我现在就是这样子，敷敷衍衍，模模胡胡。我有时自己也想到，倘若先前的朋友看见我，怕会不认我做朋友了。——然而我现在就是这样。”
他又掏出一支烟卷来，衔在嘴里，点了火。
“看你的神情，你似乎还有些期望我，——我现在自然麻木得多了，但是有些事也还看得出。这使我很感激，然而也使我很不安：怕我终于辜负了至今还对我怀着好意的老朋友。……”他忽而停住了，吸几口烟，才又慢慢的说，“正在今天，刚在我到这一石居来之前，也就做了一件无聊事，然而也是我自己愿意做的。我先前的东边的邻居叫长富，是一个船户。他有一个女儿叫阿顺，你那时到我家里来，也许见过的，但你一定没有留心，因为那时她还小。后来她也长得并不好看，不过是平常的瘦瘦的瓜子脸，黄脸皮；独有眼睛非常大，睫毛也很长，眼白又青得如夜的晴天，而且是北方的无风的晴天，这里的就没有那么明净了。她很能干，十多岁没了母亲，招呼两个小弟妹都靠她，又得服侍父亲，事事都周到；也经济，家计倒渐渐的稳当起来了。邻居几乎没有一个不夸奖她，连长富也时常说些感激的活。这一次我动身回来的时候，我的母亲又记得她了，老年人记性真长久。她说她曾经知道顺姑因为看见谁的头上戴着红的剪绒花，自己也想一朵，弄不到，哭了，哭了小半夜，就挨了她父亲的一顿打，后来眼眶还红肿了两三天。这种剪绒花是外省的东西，Ｓ城里尚且买不出，她那里想得到手呢？趁我这一次回南的便，便叫我买两朵去送她。
“我对于这差使倒并不以为烦厌，反而很喜欢；为阿顺，我实在还有些愿意出力的意思的。前年，我回来接我母亲的时候，有一天，长富正在家，不知怎的我和他闲谈起来了。他便要请我吃点心，荞麦粉，并且告诉我所加的是白糖。你想，家里能有白糖的船户，可见决不是一个穷船户了，所以他也吃得很阔绰。我被劝不过，答应了，但要求只要用小碗。他也很识世故，便嘱咐阿顺说，‘他们文人，是不会吃东西的。你就用小碗，多加糖！’然而等到调好端来的时候，仍然使我吃一吓，是一大碗，足够我吃一天。但是和长富吃的一碗比起来，我的也确乎算小碗。我生平没有吃过荞麦粉，这回一尝，实在不可口，却是非常甜。我漫然的吃了几口，就想不吃了，然而无意中，忽然间看见阿顺远远的站在屋角里，就使我立刻消失了放下碗筷的勇气。我看她的神情，是害怕而且希望，大约怕自己调得不好，愿我们吃得有味，我知道如果剩下大半碗来，一定要使她很失望，而且很抱歉。我于是同时决心，放开喉咙灌下去了，几乎吃得和长富一样快。我由此才知道硬吃的苦痛，我只记得还做孩子时候的吃尽一碗拌着驱除蛔虫药粉的沙糖才有这样难。然而我毫不抱怨，因为她过来收拾空碗时候的忍着的得意的笑容，已尽够赔偿我的苦痛而有余了。所以我这一夜虽然饱胀得睡不稳，又做了一大串恶梦，也还是祝赞她一生幸福，愿世界为她变好。然而这些意思也不过是我的那些旧日的梦的痕迹，即刻就自笑，接着也就忘却了。
“我先前并不知道她曾经为了一朵剪绒花挨打，但因为母亲一说起，便也记得了荞麦粉的事，意外的勤快起来了。我先在太原城里搜求了一遍，都没有；一直到济南……”
窗外沙沙的一阵声响，许多积雪从被他压弯了的一技山茶树上滑下去了，树枝笔挺的伸直，更显出乌油油的肥叶和血红的花来。天空的铅色来得更浓，小鸟雀啾唧的叫着，大概黄昏将近，地面又全罩了雪，寻不出什么食粮，都赶早回巢来休息了。
“一直到了济南，”他向窗外看了一回，转身喝干一杯酒，又吸几口烟，接着说。“我才买到剪绒花。我也不知道使她挨打的是不是这一种，总之是绒做的罢了。我也不知道她喜欢深色还是浅色，就买了一朵大红的，一朵粉红的，都带到这里来。
“就是今天午后，我一吃完饭，便去看长富，我为此特地耽搁了一天。他的家倒还在，只是看去很有些晦气色了，但这恐怕不过是我自己的感觉。他的儿子和第二个女儿——阿昭，都站在门口，大了。阿昭长得全不像她姊姊，简直像一个鬼，但是看见我走向她家，便飞奔的逃进屋里去。我就问那小子，知道长富不在家。‘你的大姊呢？’他立刻瞪起眼睛，连声问我寻她什么事，而且恶狠狠的似乎就要扑过来，咬我。我支吾着退走了，我现在是敷敷衍衍……
“你不知道，我可是比先前更怕去访人了。因为我已经深知道自己之讨厌，连自己也讨厌，又何必明知故犯的去使人暗暗地不快呢？然而这回的差使是不能不办妥的，所以想了一想，终于回到就在斜对门的柴店里。店主的母亲，老发奶奶，倒也还在，而且也还认识我，居然将我邀进店里坐去了。我们寒暄几句之后，我就说明了回到Ｓ城和寻长富的缘故。不料她叹息说：
“‘可惜顺姑没有福气戴这剪绒花了。’
“她于是详细的告诉我，说是‘大约从去年春天以来，她就见得黄瘦，后来忽而常常下泪了，问她缘故又不说；有时还整夜的哭，哭得长富也忍不住生气，骂她年纪大了，发了疯。可是一到秋初，起先不过小伤风，终于躺倒了，从此就起不来。直到咽气的前几天，才肯对长富说，她早就像她母亲一样，不时的吐红和流夜汗。但是瞒着，怕他因此要担心，有一夜，她的伯伯长庚又来硬借钱，——这是常有的事，——她不给，长庚就冷笑着说：你不要骄气，你的男人比我还不如！她从此就发了愁，又伯羞，不好问，只好哭。长富赶紧将她的男人怎样的挣气的话说给她听，那里还来得及？况且她也不信，反而说：好在我已经这样，什么也不要紧了。’
“她还说，‘如果她的男人真比长庚不如，那就真可怕呵！比不上一个愉鸡贼，那是什么东西呢？然而他来送殓的时候，我是亲眼看见他的，衣服很干净，人也体面；还眼泪汪汪的说，自己撑了半世小船，苦熬苦省的积起钱来聘了一个女人，偏偏又死掉了。可见他实在是一个好人，长庚说的全是诳。只可惜顺姑竟会相信那样的贼骨头的诳话，白送了性命。——但这也不能去怪谁，只能怪顺姑自己没有这一份好福气。’
“那倒也罢，我的事情又完了。但是带在身边的两朵剪绒花怎么办呢？好，我就托她送了阿昭。这阿昭一见我就飞跑，大约将我当作一只狼或是什么，我实在不愿意去送她。——但是我也就送她了，母亲只要说阿顺见了喜欢的了不得就是。这些无聊的事算什么？只要模模胡胡。模模胡胡的过了新年，仍旧教我的‘子日诗云’去。”
“你教的是‘子日诗云’么？”我觉得奇异，便问。
“自然。你还以为教的是ABCD么？我先是两个学生，一个读《诗经》，一个读《孟子》。新近又添了一个，女的，读《女儿经》。连算学也不教，不是我不教，他们不要教。”
“我实在料不到你倒去教这类的书，……”
“他们的老子要他们读这些，我是别人，无乎不可的。这些无聊的事算什么？只要随随便便，……”
他满脸已经通红，似乎很有些醉，但眼光却又消沉下去了。我微微的叹息，一时没有话可说。楼梯上一阵乱响，拥上几个酒客来：当头的是矮子，拥肿的圆脸；第二个是长的，在脸上很惹眼的显出一个红鼻子；此后还有人，一叠连的走得小楼都发抖。我转眼去着吕纬甫，他也正转眼来看我，我就叫堂倌算酒账。
“你借此还可以支持生活么？”我一面准备走，一面问。
“是的。——我每月有二十元，也不大能够敷衍。”
“那么，你以后豫备怎么办呢？”
“以后？——我不知道。你看我们那时豫想的事可有一件如意？我现在什么也不知道，连明天怎样也不知道，连后一分……”
堂倌送上账来，交给我；他也不像初到时候的谦虚了，只向我看了一眼，便吸烟，听凭我付了账。
我们一同走出店门，他所住的旅馆和我的方向正相反，就在门口分别了。我独自向着自己的旅馆走，寒风和雪片扑在脸上，倒觉得很爽快。见天色已是黄昏，和屋宇和街道都织在密雪的纯白而不定的罗网里。
一九二四年二月一六日
（原刊
A HAPPY FAMILY 幸福的家庭
After the style of Hsu Chin-wen
". . . One writes simply as one feels: such a work is like sunlight, radiating from a source of infinite brightness, not like a spark from a flint struck on iron or stone. This alone is true art. And such a writer alone is a true artist. . . . But I . . . what do I rank as?"
Having thought so far he suddenly jumped out of bed. It occurred to him that he must make some money by writing to support his family, and he had already decided to send his manuscripts to the Happy Monthly publishers, because the remuneration appeared to be comparatively generous. But in that case the choice of subjects would be limited, otherwise the work would probably not be accepted. All right let it be limited. What were the chief problems occupying the minds of the younger generation? . . . Undoubtedly there must be not a few, perhaps a great many, concerning love, marriage, the family. . . . Yes, there were certainly many people perplexed by such questions, even now discussing them. In that case, write about the family! But how to write? . . . Otherwise it would probably not be accepted. Why predict anything unlucky? Still. . . .
Jumping out of bed, in four or five steps he reached the desk, sat down, took out a piece of paper with green lines, and promptly yet with resignation wrote the title: A Happy Family.
His pen immediately came to a standstill. He raised his head, fixed his two eyes on the ceiling, and tried to decide on an environment for this Happy Family.
"
He racked his brains but, unable to think of a good place, decided tentatively to fix on A----. Then, however, he thought: "Nowadays many people object to the use of the Western alphabet to represent the names of people and places, saying it lessens the readers' interest. Probably, to be on the safe side, I had better not use it in my story this time. In that case what would be a good place? There is fighting in
Again he racked his brains to think of a good place, but in vain; so finally he made up his mind tentatively to fix A---- as the name of the place where his Happy Family should be.
"After all this Happy Family will have to be at A----. There can't be any question about that. The family naturally consists of a husband and wife--the master and mistress--who married for love. Their marriage contract contains over forty terms going into great detail, so that they have extraordinary equality and absolute freedom. Moreover they have both had a higher education and belong to the cultured élite . . . . Japanese-returned students are no longer the fashion, so let them be Western-returned students. The master of the house always wears a foreign suit, his collar is always snowy white. His wife's hair is always curled up like a sparrow's nest in front, her pearly white teeth are always peeping out, but she wears Chinese dress. . . . "
"That won't do, that won't do! Twenty-five catties!"
Hearing a man's voice outside the window he involuntarily turned his head to look. The sun shone through the curtains hanging by the window, dazzling his eyes, while he heard a sound like small bundles of wood being thrown down. "It doesn't matter," he thought, turning back again. "'Twenty-five catties' of what? . . . They are the cultured élite, devoted to the arts. But because they have both grown up in happy surroundings, they don't like Russian novels. Most Russian novels describe the lower classes, so they are really quite out of keeping with such a family. 'Twenty-five catties'? Never mind. In that case, what books do they read? . . . Byron's poetry? Keats? That won't do, neither of them are safe. . . . Ah, I have it: they both like reading An Ideal Husband. Although I haven't read the book myself, even university professors praise it so highly that I am sure this couple must enjoy it too. You read it, I read it--they each have a copy, two copies altogether in the family. . . ."
Becoming aware of a hollow feeling in his stomach, he put down the pen and rested his head on his hands, like a globe supported by two axles.
". . . The two of them are just having lunch," he thought. "The table is spread with a snowy white table cloth, and the cook brings in the dishes--Chinese food. 'Twenty-five catties.' Of what? Never mind. Why should it be Chinese food? Westerners say Chinese cooking is the most progressive, the best to eat, the most hygienic; so they eat Chinese food. The first dish is brought in, but what is this first dish? . . ."
"Firewood. . . ."
He turned his head with a start, to see the mistress of his own family standing on his left, her two gloomy eyes fastened on his face.
"What?" He spoke rather indignantly, feeling that her coming disturbed his work.
"The firewood is all used up, so today I have bought some more. Last time it was still two hundred and forty cash for ten catties, but today he wants two hundred and sixty. Suppose I give him two hundred and fifty?"
"All right, two hundred and fifty, let it be."
"He has weighed it very unfairly. He insists that there are twenty-four and a half catties, but suppose I count it as twentythree and a half?"
"All right. Count it as twenty-three and a half catties."
"Then, five fives are twenty-five, three fives are fifteen. . . . ."
"Oh, five fives are twenty-five, three fives are fifteen. . . ." He could get no further either, but after stopping for a moment suddenly took up his pen and started working out a sum on the lined paper on which he had written "A Happy Family." After working at it for some time he raised his head to say:
"Five hundred and eighty cash."
"In that case I haven't enough here; I am still eighty or ninety short. . . . ."
He pulled open the drawer of the desk, took out all the money in it--somewhere between twenty and thirty coppers--and put it in her outstretched hand. Then he watched her go out, and finally turned back to the desk. His head seemed to be bursting as if filled to the brim with sharp faggots. Five fives are twenty-five--scattered Arabic numerals were still imprinted on his brain. He gave a long sigh and breathed out again deeply, as if by this means he might expel the firewood, the "five fives are twenty-five," and the Arabic numerals which had stuck in his head. Sure enough after breathing out his heart seemed much lighter, whereupon he started thinking vaguely again:
"What dish? It doesn't matter, so long as it is something out of the way. Fried pork or prawns' roe and sea-slugs are really too common. I must have them eating 'Dragon and Tiger.' But what is that exactly? Some people say it's made of snakes and cats, and is an upper-class Cantonese dish, only eaten at big feasts. I've seen the name on the menu in a Kiangsu restaurant; still,
"Now that this bowl of 'Dragon and Tiger' is placed in the middle of the table, they take up their chopsticks simultaneously, point to the dish, smile sweetly at each other and say, in a foreign tongue:
"'Chérie, s'il vous plait!'
"'Voulez-vous commencer, chéri!'
"'Mais non, après vous!'
"Then they lift their chopsticks simultaneously, and simultaneously take a morsel of snake--no, no, snake's flesh really sounds too peculiar; it would be better after all to say a morsel of eel. It is settled then that 'Dragon and Tiger' is made of frogs and eels. They pick out two morsels of eel simultaneously, exactly the same size. Five fives are twenty-five, three fives. . . . Never mind. And simultaneously put them in their mouths. . . . Against his will he wanted to turn round, because he was conscious of a good deal of excitement behind him, and considerable coming and going. Nevertheless he persevered, and pursued his train of thought distractedly:
"This seems rather sentimental; no family would behave like this. Whatever makes me so woolly-minded? I'm afraid this good subject will never be written up. . . . Or perhaps there is no need for them to be returned students; people who have received higher education in
Finally he could contain himself no longer, and turned round.
Beside the bookcase behind him appeared a mound of cabbages, three at the bottom, two above, and one at the top, confronting him like a large letter A.
"Oh!" He started and gave a sigh, feeling his cheeks burn, while prickles ran up and down his spine. "Ah!" He took a very deep breath to get rid of the prickly feeling in his spine, then went on thinking: "The house of the Happy Family must have plenty of rooms. There is a store-room where things like cabbages are put. The master's study is apart, its walls lined with bookshelves; there are naturally no cabbages there. The shelves are filled with Chinese books and foreign books, including of course An Ideal Husband--two copies altogether. There is a separate bedroom, a brass bedstead, or something simpler like one of the elmwood beds made by the convicts of Number One Prison would do equally well. It is very clean beneath the bed. . . ." He glanced beneath his own bed. The firewood had all been used up, and there was only a piece of straw rope left, still coiled there like a dead snake.
"Twenty-three and a half catties. . . ." He felt that the firewood was just about to pour in a never-ending stream under his bed. His head ached again. He got up and went quickly to the door to close it. But he had scarcely put his hand on the door when he felt that this was overhasty and let it go instead, dropping the door curtain that was thick with dust. At the same time he thought: "This method avoids the severity of shutting oneself in, as well as the discomfort of keeping the door open; it is quite in keeping with the Doctrine of the Mean."
". . . So the master's study door is always closed." He walked back, sat down and thought, "Anyone with business must first knock at the door, and have his permission to come in; that is really the only thing to be done. Now suppose the master is sitting in his study and the mistress comes to discuss literature, she knocks too. . . . Of this at least one can be assured--she will nor bring in any cabbages.
"'Entrez, chérie, s'il vous plait.'
"But what happens when the master has no time to discuss literature? Hearing her stand outside tapping gently on the door, does he ignore her? That probably wouldn't do. Maybe it is all described in An Ideal Husband--that must really be an excellent novel. If I get paid for this article I must buy a copy to read!"
Slap!
His back stiffened, because he knew from experience that this slapping sound was made by his wife's hand striking their three-year-old daughter's head.
"In a Happy Family . . ." he thought, his back still rigid, hearing the child sob, "children are born late, yes, born late. Or perhaps it would be better to have none at all, just two people without any ties. . . . Or it might be better to stay in a hotel and let them look after everything, a single man without. . . ." Hearing the sobs increase in volume, he stood up and brushed past the curtain, thinking, "Karl Marx wrote his Das Kapital while his children were crying around him. He must really have been a great man. . . ." He walked out, opened the outer door, and was assailed by a strong smell of paraffin. The child was lying to the right of the door, face downwards. As soon as she saw him she started crying aloud.
"There, there, all right! Don't cry, don't cry! There's a good girl." He bent down to pick her up. Having done so he turned round to see his wife standing furiously to the left of the door, also with a rigid back, her hands on her hips as if she were preparing to start physical exercises.
"Even you have to come and bully me! You can't help, you only make trouble--even the paraffin lamp had to turn over. What shall we light this evening? . . ."
"There, there, all right! Don't cry, don't cry!" Ignoring his wife's trembling voice, he carried the child into the house, and stroked her head. "There's a good girl," he repeated. Then he put her down, pulled out a chair and sat down. Setting her between his knees, he raised his hand. "Don't cry, there's a good girl," he said. "Daddy will do 'Pussy Washing' for you. At the same time he craned his neck, licked his palms from a distance twice, then with them traced circles towards his face.
"Aha! Pussy!" She started laughing.
"That's right, that's right. Pussy." He traced several more circles, and then stopped, seeing her smiling at him with tears still in her eyes. It struck him suddenly that her sweet, innocent face was just like her mother's had been five years ago, especially her bright red lips, although the general outline was smaller. That had been another bright winter's day when she heard his decision to overcome all obstacles and sacrifice everything for her; when she too looked at him in the same way, smiling, with tears in her eyes. He sat down disconsolately, as if a little drunk.
"Ah, sweet lips," he thought.
The door curtain was suddenly fastened back and the firewood brought in.
Suddenly coming to himself again, he saw that the child, still with tears in her eyes, was looking at him with her bright red lips parted. "Lips. . . ." He glanced sidewards to where the firewood was being brought in. ". . . Probably it will be nothing but five fives are twenty-five, nine nines are eighty-one, all over again! . . . And two gloomy eyes. . . ." So thinking he snatched up the green-lined paper with the heading and the figures written on it, crumpled it up and then unfolded it again to wipe the child's eyes and nose. "Good girl, run along and play by yourself." He pushed her away as he spoke, at the same time throwing the ball of paper into the waste-paper basket.
But at once he felt rather sorry for the child, and, turning his head, followed her with his eyes as she walked forlornly away, while his ears were filled with the sound of firewood. Determined to concentrate, he turned back again and closed his eyes to put a stop to all distracting thoughts, sitting there quietly and peacefully.
He saw passing before him a flat, round, black-freckled flower with an orange centre, which floated from the left of his left eye right over to the opposite side where it disappeared; then a bright green flower, with a dark green centre; and finally a pile of six cabbages which formed themselves before him into an enormous letter A.
______
[Note: ] A novelist contemporary with Lu Hsun The author declared that he modelled this story on Hsu's "An Ideal Companion."
[Note: fighting] During this period there was civil war between warlords in many parts of
[Note: Doctrine of the Mean] A Confucian classic, advocating the principle of moderation in all things.
March 18, 1924
幸福的家庭〔１〕
——拟许钦文
“……做不做全由自己的便；那作品，像太阳的光一样，从无量的光源中涌出来，不像石火，用铁和石敲出来，这才是真艺术。那作者，也才是真的艺术家。——而我，……这算是什么？……”他想到这里，忽然从床上跳起来了。以先他早已想过，须得捞几文稿费维持生活了；投稿的地方，先定为幸福月报社，因为润笔似乎比较的丰。但作品就须有范围，否则，恐怕要不收的。范围就范围，……现在的青年的脑里的大问题是？……大概很不少，或者有许多是恋爱，婚姻，家庭之类罢。……是的，他们确有许多人烦闷着，正在讨论这些事。〔２〕那么，就来做家庭。然而怎么做做呢？……否则，恐怕要不收的，何必说些背时的话，然而……。他跳下卧床之后，四五步就走到书桌面前，坐下去，抽出一张绿格纸，毫不迟疑，但又自暴自弃似的写下一行题目道：《幸福的家庭》。
他的笔立刻停滞了；他仰了头，两眼瞪着房顶，正在安排那安置这“幸福的家庭”的地方。他想：“北京？不行，死气沉沉，连空气也是死的。假如在这家庭的周围筑一道高墙，难道空气也就隔断了么？简直不行！江苏浙江天天防要开仗；福建更无须说。四川，广东？都正在打。〔３〕山东河南之类？——阿阿，要绑票〔４〕的，倘使绑去一个，那就成为不幸的家庭了。上海天津的租界上房租贵；……假如在外国，笑话。云南贵州不知道怎样，但交通也太不便……。”他想来想去，想不出好地方，便要假定为Ａ了，但又想，“现有不少的人是反对用西洋字母来代人地名的〔５〕，说是要减少读者的兴味。我这回的投稿，似乎也不如不用，安全些。那么，在那里好呢？——湖南也打仗；大连仍然房租贵；察哈尔〔６〕，吉林，黑龙江罢，——听说有马贼，也不行！……”他又想来想去，又想不出好地方，于是终于决心，假定这“幸福的家庭”所在的地方叫作Ａ。
“总之，这幸福的家庭一定须在Ａ，无可磋商。家庭中自然是两夫妇，就是主人和主妇，自由结婚的。他们订有四十多条条约，非常详细，所以非常平等，十分自由。而且受过高等教育，优美高尚……。东洋留学生已经不通行，——那么，假定为西洋留学生罢。主人始终穿洋服，硬领始终雪白；主妇是前头的头发始终烫得蓬蓬松松像一个麻雀窠，牙齿是始终雪白的露着，但衣服却是中国装，……”
“不行不行，那不行！二十五斤！”
他听得窗外一个男人的声音，不由的回过头去看，窗幔垂着，日光照着，明得眩目，他的眼睛昏花了；接着是小木片撒在地上的声响。“不相干，”他又回过头来想，“什么‘二十五斤’？——他们是优美高尚，很爱文艺的。但因为都从小生长在幸福里，所以不爱俄国的小说……。俄国小说多描写下等人，实在和这样的家庭也不合。‘二十五斤’？不管他。那么，他们看看什么书呢？——裴伦的诗？吉支〔７〕的？不行，都不稳当。——哦，有了，他们都爱看《理想之良人》〔８〕。我虽然没有见过这部书，但既然
“……他们两人正在用午餐，”他想，“桌上铺了雪白的布；厨子送上菜来，——中国菜。什么‘二十五斤’？不管他。为什么倒是中国菜？西洋人说，中国菜最进步，最好吃，最合于卫生〔８〕：所以他们采用中国菜。送来的是第一碗，但这第一碗是什么呢？……”
“劈柴，……”
他吃惊的回过头去看，靠左肩，便立着他自己家里的主妇，两只阴凄凄的眼睛恰恰钉住他的脸。
“什么？”他以为她来搅扰了他的创作，颇有些愤怒了。
“劈架，都用完了，今天买了些。前一回还是十斤两吊四，今天就要两吊六。我想给他两吊五，好不好？”
“好好，就是两吊五。”
“称得太吃亏了。他一定只肯算二十四斤半；我想就算他二十三斤半，好不好？”
“好好，就算他二十三斤半。”
“那么，五五二十五，三五一十五，……”
“唔唔，五五二十五，三五一十五，……”他也说不下去了，停了一会，忽而奋然的抓起笔来，就在写着一行“幸福的家庭”的绿格纸上起算草，起了好久，这才仰起头来说道：
“五吊八！”
“那是，我这里不够了，还差八九个……。”
他抽开书桌的抽屉，一把抓起所有的铜元，不下二三十，放在她摊开的手掌上，看她出了房，才又回过头来向书桌。他觉得头里面很胀满，似乎桠桠叉叉的全被木柴填满了，五五二十五，脑皮质上还印着许多散乱的亚剌伯数目字。他很深的吸一口气，又用力的呼出，仿佛要借此赶出脑里的劈柴，五五二十五和亚刺伯数字来。果然，吁气之后，心地也就轻松不少了，于是仍复恍恍忽忽的想——“什么菜？菜倒不妨奇特点。滑溜里脊，虾子海参，实在太凡庸。我偏要说他们吃的是‘龙虎斗’。但‘龙虎斗’又是什么呢？有人说是蛇和猫，是广东的贵重菜，非大宴会不吃的。但我在江苏饭馆的菜单上就见过这名目，江苏人似乎不吃蛇和猫，恐怕就如谁所说，是蛙和鳝鱼了。现在假定这主人和主妇为那里人呢？——不管他。总而言之，无论那里人吃一碗蛇和猫或者蛙和鳝鱼，于幸福的家庭是决不会有损伤的。总之这第一碗一定是‘龙虎斗’，无可磋商。
“于是一碗‘龙虎斗’摆在桌子中央了，他们两人同时捏起筷子，指着碗沿，笑迷迷的你看我，我看你……。
“‘Ｍｙｄｅａｒ，ｐｌｅａｓｅ．’
“‘Ｐｌｅａｓｅｙｏｕｅａｔｆｉｒｓｔ，ｍｙｄｅａｒ．’
“‘Ｏｈｎｏ，ｐｌｅａｓｅｙｏｒ！’〔１０〕
“于是他们同时伸下筷子去，同时夹出一块蛇肉来，——不不，蛇肉究竟太奇怪，还不如说是鳝鱼罢。那么，这碗‘龙虎斗’是蛙和鳝鱼所做的了。他们同时夹出一块鳝鱼来，一样大小，五五二十五，三五……不管他，同时放进嘴里去，……”他不能自制的只想回过头去看，因为他觉得背后很热闹，有人来来往往的走了两三回。但他还熬着，乱嘈嘈的接着想，“这似乎有点肉麻，那有这样的家庭？唉唉，我的思路怎么会这样乱，这好题目怕是做不完篇的了。——或者不必定用留学生，就在国内受了高等教育的也可以。他们都是大学毕业的，高尚优美，高尚……。男的是文学家；女的也是文学家，或者文学崇拜家。或者女的是诗人；男的是诗人崇拜者，女性尊重者。或者……”他终于忍耐不住，回过头去了。
就在他背后的书架的旁边，已经出现了一座白菜堆，下层三株，中层两株，顶上一株，向他叠成一个很大的Ａ字。
“唉唉！”他吃惊的叹息，同时觉得脸上骤然发热了，脊梁上还有许多针轻轻的刺着。“吁……。”他很长的嘘一口气，先斥退了脊梁上的针，仍然想，“幸福的家庭的房子要宽绰。有一间堆积房，白菜之类都到那边去。主人的书房另一间，靠壁满排着书架，那旁边自然决没有什么白菜堆；架上满是中国书，外国书，《理想之良人》自然也在内，——一共有两部。卧室又一间；黄铜床，或者质朴点，第一监狱工场做的榆木床也就够，床底下很干净，……”他当即一瞥自己的床下，劈柴已经用完了，只有一条稻草绳，却还死蛇似的懒懒的躺着。
“二十三斤半，……”他觉得劈柴就要向床下“川流不息”的进来，头里面又有些桠桠叉叉了，便急忙起立，走向门口去想关门。但两手刚触着门，却又觉得未免太暴躁了，就歇了手，只放下那积着许多灰尘的门幕。他一面想，这既无闭关自守之操切，也没有开放门户之不安：是很合于“中庸之道”〔１１〕的。
“……所以主人的书房门永远是关起来的。”他走回来，坐下，想，“有事要商量先敲门，得了许可才能进来，这办法实在对。现在假如主人坐在自己的书房里，主妇来谈文艺了，也就先敲门。——这可以放心，她必不至于捧着白菜的。
“‘Ｃｏｍｅｉｎ，ｐｌｅａｓｅ，ｍｙｄｅａｒ．’〔１２〕
“然而主人没有工夫谈文艺的时候怎么办呢？那么，不理她，听她站在外面老是剥剥的敲？这大约不行罢。或者《理想之良人》里面都写着，——那恐怕确是一部好小说，我如果有了稿费，也得去买他一部来看看……。”
拍！
他腰骨笔直了，因为他根据经验，知道这一声“拍”是主妇的手掌打在他们的三岁的女儿的头上的声音。
“幸福的家庭，……”他听到孩子的呜咽了，但还是腰骨笔直的想，“孩子是生得迟的，生得迟。或者不如没有，两个人干干净净。——或者不如住在客店里，什么都包给他们，一个人干干……”他听得呜咽声高了起来，也就站了起来，钻过门幕，想着，“马克思在儿女的啼哭声中还会做《资本论》，所以他是伟人，……”走出外间，开了风门，闻得一阵煤油气。孩子就躺倒在门的右边，脸向着地，一见他，便“哇”的哭出来了。
“阿阿，好好，莫哭莫哭，我的好孩子。”他弯下腰去抱她。
他抱了她回转身，看见门左边还站着主妇，也是腰骨笔直，然而两手插腰，怒气冲冲的似乎豫备开始练体操。
“连你也来欺侮我！不会帮忙，只会捣乱，——连油灯也要翻了他。晚上点什么？……”
“阿阿，好好，莫哭莫哭，”他把那些发抖的声音放在脑后，抱她进房，摩着她的头，说，“我的好孩子。”于是放下她，拖开椅子，坐下去，使她站在两膝的中间，擎起手来道，“莫哭了呵，好孩子。爹爹做‘猫洗脸’给你看。”他同时伸长颈子，伸出舌头，远远的对着手掌舔了两舔，就用这手掌向了自己的脸上画圆圈。
“呵呵呵，花儿。”她就笑起来了。
“是的是的，花儿。”他又连画上几个圆圈，这才歇了手，只见她还是笑迷迷的挂着眼泪对他看。他忽而觉得，她那可爱的天真的脸，正像五年前的她的母亲，通红的嘴唇尤其像，不过缩小了轮廓。那时也是晴朗的冬天，她听得他说决计反抗一切阻碍，为她牺牲的时候，也就这样笑迷迷的挂着眼泪对他看。他惘然的坐着，仿佛有些醉了。
“阿阿，可爱的嘴唇……”他想。
门幕忽然挂起。劈柴运进来了。
他也忽然惊醒，一定睛，只见孩子还是挂着眼泪，而且张开了通红的嘴唇对他看。“嘴唇……”他向旁边一瞥，劈柴正在进来，“……恐怕将来也就是五五二十五，九九八十一！……而且两只眼睛阴凄凄的……。”他想着，随即粗暴的抓起那写着一行题目和一堆算草的绿格纸来，揉了几揉，又展开来给她拭去了眼泪和鼻涕。“好孩子，自己玩去罢。”他一面推开她，说；一面就将纸团用力的掷在纸篓里。
但他又立刻觉得对于孩子有些抱歉了，重复回头，目送着她独自茕茕的出去；耳朵里听得木片声。他想要定一定神，便又回转头，闭了眼睛，息了杂念，平心静气的坐着。他看见眼前浮出一朵扁圆的乌花，橙黄心，从左眼的左角漂到右，消失了；接着一朵明绿花，墨绿色的心；接着一座六株的白菜堆，屹然的向他叠成一个很大的Ａ字。一九二四年二月一八日。
〔１〕本篇最初发表于
本文发表时篇末有作者的《附记》如下：“我于去年在《晨报副刊》上看见
许钦文，浙江绍兴人，当时的青年作家。著有短篇小说集《故乡》等。他的《理想的伴侣》是因一九二三年八月《妇女杂志》第九卷第八号刊出的“我之理想的配偶”征文启事而写的一篇讽刺小说，载于同年
〔２〕指当时一些报刊关于恋爱、婚姻、家庭问题的讨论。如一九二三年五、六月间《晨报副刊》进行的“爱情定则”的讨论；《妇女杂志》关于理想配偶的征文以及出版“配偶选择号”（第九卷第十一号）等。
〔３〕关于江浙等地的战争，当指江苏军阀齐燮元与浙江军阀卢永祥的对峙；直系军阀孙传芳与福建军阀王永泉等人的战争；四川军阀杨森对熊克武的战争；广东军阀陈炯明与桂系、滇系军阀的战争；湖南军阀赵恒惕对谭延笥的战争。
〔４〕绑票旧时盗匪把人劫走，强迫被劫持者的亲属出钱赎买，称为绑票。当时山东、河南是土匪头子孙美瑶、“老洋人”等活动的地区，经常发生这类事件。
〔５〕关于罗马字母代替小说中人名地名问题，一九二三年六月至九月间《晨报副刊》上曾有过争论。
〔６〕察哈尔指当时的察哈尔特别区。一九二八年改设省。一九五二年撤销，分别并入河北、山西两省和内蒙古自治区。
〔７〕裴伦（Ｇ．Ｇ．Ｂｙｒｏｎ，１７８８—１８２４）通译拜伦，英国诗人。著有长诗《唐·璜》、诗剧《曼佛雷特》等。吉支（Ｊ．Ｋｅａｔｓ，１７９５—１８２１），通译济慈，英国诗人。著有《为和平而写的十四行诗》、长诗《伊莎贝拉》等。
〔８〕《理想之良人》即四幕剧《ＡｎＩｄｅａｌＨｕｓｂａｎｄ》，英国王尔德（Ｏ．Ｗｉｌｄｅ，１８５６—１９００）著。该剧在“五四”前被译成中文，曾连载于《新青年》第一卷第二、三、四、六号和第二卷第二号。
〔９〕关于西洋人称赞中国菜，作者曾在《华盖集续编·马上支日记》中这样说过：“近年尝听到本国人和外国人颂扬中国菜，说是怎样可口，怎样卫生，世界上第一，宇宙间第ｎ。但我实在不知道怎样的是中国菜。我们有几处是嚼葱蒜和杂和面饼，有几处是用醋，辣椒，腌菜下饭；还有许多人是只能舐黑盐，还有许多人是连黑盐也没得舐。中外人士以为可口，卫生，第一而第ｎ的，当然不是这些；应该是阔人，上等人所吃的肴馔。”
〔１０〕这三行英文的意思是：“我亲爱的，请。”“你请先吃，我亲爱的。”“不，你请！”
〔１１〕“中庸之道”儒家学说。据宋代朱熹《中庸章句集注》：“中者，不偏不倚，无过不及之名；庸，平常也。”
〔１２〕这一行英文的意思是：“请进来，我亲爱的。”
SOAP 肥皂
With her back to the north window in the slanting sunlight, Ssu-min's wife with her eight-year-old daughter, Hsiu-erh, was pasting paper money for the dead when she heard the slow, heavy footsteps of someone in cloth shoes and knew her husband was back. Paying no attention, she simply went on pasting coins. But the tread of cloth shoes drew nearer and nearer, till it finally stopped beside her. Then she could not help looking up to see Ssu-min before her, bunching his shoulders and stooping forward to fumble desperately under his cloth jacket in the inner pocket of his long gown.
By dint of twisting and turning at last he extracted his hand with a small oblong package in it, which he handed to his wife. As she took it, she smelt an indefinable fragrance rather reminiscent of olive. On the green paper wrapper was a bright golden seal with a network of tiny designs. Hsiu-erh bounded forward to seize this and look at it, but her mother promptly pushed her aside.
"Been shopping? . . ." she asked as she looked at it.
"Er--yes." He stared at the package in her hand.
The green paper wrapper was opened. Inside was a layer of very thin paper, also sunflower-green, and nor till this was unwrapped was the object itself exposed--glossy and hard, besides being sunflower-green, with another network of fine designs on it. The thin paper was a cream colour, it appeared. The indefinable fragrance rather reminiscent of olive was stronger now.
"My, this is really good soap!"
She held the soap to her nose as gingerly as if it were a child, and sniffed at it as she spoke.
"Er--yes. Just use this in future. . . ."
As he spoke, she noticed him eyeing her neck, and felt herself flushing up to her cheekbones. Sometimes when she rubbed her neck, especially behind the ears, her fingers detected a roughness; and though she knew this was the accumulated dirt of many years, she had never given it much thought. Now, under his scrutiny, she could not help blushing as she looked at this green, foreign soap with the curious scent, and this blush spread right to the tips of her ears. She mentally resolved to have a thorough wash with this soap after supper.
"There are places you can't wash clean just with honey locust pods," she muttered to herself.
"Ma, can I have this?" As Hsiu-erh reached out for the sunflower-green paper, Chao-erh, the younger daughter who had been playing outside, came running in too. Mrs. Ssu-min promptly pushed them both aside, folded the thin paper in place, wrapped the green paper round it as before, then leaned over to put it on the highest shelf of the wash-stand. After one final glance, she turned back to her paper coins.
"Hsueh-cheng!" Ssu-min seemed to have remembered something. He gave a long-drawn-out shout, sitting down on a high-backed chair opposite his wife.
"Hsueh-cheng!" she helped him call.
She stopped pasting coins to listen, but not a sound could she hear. When she saw him with upturned head waiting so impatiently, she felt quite apologetic.
"Hsueh-cheng!" she called shrilly at the top of her voice.
This call proved effective, for they heard the tramp of leather shoes draw near, and Hsueh-cheng stood before her. He was in shirt sleeves, his plump round face shiny with perspiration.
"What were you doing?" she asked disapprovingly. "Why didn't you hear your father call?"
"I was practising Hexagram Boxing. . . ." He turned at once to his father and straightened up, looking at him as if to ask what he wanted.
"Hsueh-cheng, I want to ask you the meaning of o-du-fu."
"O-du-fu? . . . Isn't it a very fierce woman?"
"What nonsense! The idea!" Ssu-min was suddenly furious. "Am I a woman, pray?"
Hsueh-cheng recoiled two steps, and stood straighter than ever. Though his father's gait sometimes reminded him of the way old men walked in
"As if I didn't know o-du-fu means a very fierce woman. Would I have to ask you that?--This isn't Chinese, it's foreign devils' language, I'm telling you. What does it mean, do you know?"
"I . . . I don't know." Hsueh-cheng felt even more uneasy.
"Pab! Why do I spend all that money to send you to school if you don't even understand a little thing like this? Your school boasts that it lays equal stress on speech and comprehension, yet it hasn't taught you anything. The ones speaking this devils' language couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, actually a little younger than you, yet they were chattering away in it, while you can't even tell me the meaning. And you have the face to answer 'I don't know.' Go and look it up for me at once!"
"Yes," answered Hsueh-cheng deep down in his throat, then respectfully withdrew.
"I don't know what students today are coming to," declared Ssu-min with emotion after a pause. "As a matter of fact, in the time of Kuang Hsu, I was all in favour of opening schools; but I never foresaw how great the evils would be. What 'emancipation' and 'freedom' have we had? There is no true learning, nothing but absurdities. I've spent quite a bit of money on Hsueh-cheng, all to no purpose. It wasn't easy to get him into this half-Western, half-Chinese school, where they claim they lay equal stress on 'speaking and comprehending English.' You'd think all should be well. But--bah!--after one whole year of study he can't even understand o-du-fu! He must still be studying dead books. What use is such a school, I ask you? What I say is: Close the whole lot of them!"
"Yes, really, better close the whole lot of them," chimed in his wife sympathetically, pasting away at the paper money.
"There's no need for Hsiu-erh and her sister to attend any school. As Ninth Grandpa said, What's the good of girls studying?' When he opposed girls' schools I attacked him for it; but now I see the old folk were right after all. Just think, it's already in very poor taste the way women wander up and down the streets, and now they want to cut their hair as well. Nothing disgusts me so much as these short-haired schoolgirls. What I say is: There's some excuse for soldiers and bandits, but these girls are the ones who turn everything upside down. They ought to be very severely dealt with indeed. . . ."
"Yes, as if it wasn't enough for all men to look like monks, the women are imitating nuns."
"Hsueh-cheng!"
Hsueh-cheng hurried in holding a small, fat, gilt-edged book, which he handed to his father.
"This looks like it," he said, pointing to one place. "Here. . . ."
Ssu-min took it and looked at it. He knew it was a dictionary, but the characters were very small and horizontally printed too. Frowning, he turned towards the window and screwed up his eyes to read the passage Hsueh-cheng had pointed out.
"'A society founded in the eighteenth century for mutual relief.'--No, that can't be it.--How do you pronounce this?" He pointed to the devils' word in front.
"Oddfellows."
"No, no, that wasn't it." Ssu-min suddenly lost his temper again. "I told you it was bad language, a swear-word of some sort, to abuse someone of my type. Understand? Go and look it up!"
Hsueh-cheng glanced at him several times, but did not move.
"This is too puzzling. How can he make head or tail of it? You must explain things clearly to him first, before he can look it up properly." Seeing Hsueh-cheng in a quandary, his mother felt sorry for him and intervened rather indignantly on his behalf.
"It was when I was buying soap at Kuang Jun Hsiang on the main street," sighed Ssu-min, turning to her. "There were three students shopping there too. Of course, to them I must have seemed a little pernickery. I looked at five or six kinds of soap all over forty cents, and turned them down. Then I looked at some priced ten cents a cake, but it was too poor, with no scent at all. Since I thought it best to strike a happy mean, I chose that green soap at twenty-four cents a cake. The assistant was one of those supercilious young fellows with eyes on the top of his head, so he pulled a long dog's face. At that those impudent students started winking at each other and talking devils' language. I wanted to unwrap the soap and look at it before paying--for with all that foreign paper round it, how could I tell whether it was good or bad? But that supercilious young fellow not only refused, but was very unreasonable and passed some offensive remarks, at which those whipper-snappers laughed. It was the youngest of the lot who said that, looking straight at me, and the rest of them started laughing. So it must have been some bad word." He turned back to Hsueh-cheng. "Look for it in the section headed Bad Language!"
"Yes," answered Hsueh-cheng deep down in his throat, then respectfully withdrew.
"Yet they still shout 'New Culture! New Culture!' when the world's in such a state! Isn't this bad enough?" His eyes on the rafters, Ssu-min continued. "The students have no morals, society has no morals. Unless we find some panacea,
"Who?" asked his wife casually, not really curious.
"A filial daughter. . . ." His eyes came round to her, and there was respect in his voice. "There were two beggars on the main street. One was a girl who looked eighteen or nineteen. Actually, it's most improper to beg at that age, but beg she did. She was with an old woman of about seventy, who had white hair and was blind. They were begging under the eaves of that clothes shop, and everybody said how filial she was. The old one was her grandmother. Whatever trifle the girl received, she gave it to her grandmother, choosing to go hungry herself. But do you think people would give alms even to such a filial daughter?"
He fixed her with his eye, as if to test her intelligence.
She made no answer, but fixed him with her eye, as if waiting for him to elucidate.
"Bah--no!" At last he supplied the answer himself. "I watched for a long time, and saw one person only give her a copper. Plenty of others gathered round, but only to jeer at them. There were two low types as well, one of whom had the impertinence to say:
"'Ah-fa! Don't be put off by the dirt on this piece of goods. If you buy two cakes of soap, and give her a good scrubbing, the result won't be bad at all!' Think, what a way to talk!"
She snorted and lowered her head. After quite a time, she asked rather casually: "Did you give her any money?"
"Did I?--No. I'd have felt ashamed to give just one or two coins. She wasn't an ordinary beggar, you know. . . ."
"Mm." Without waiting for him to finish she stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen. Dusk was gathering, and it was time for supper.
Ssu-min stood up too, and walked into the courtyard. It was lighter out than in. Hsueh-cheng was practising Hexagram Boxing in a corner by the wall. This constituted his "home education," and he used the economical method of employing the hour between day and night for this purpose. Hsueh-cheng had been boxing now for about half a year. Ssu-min nodded very slightly, as if in approval, then began to pace the courtyard with his hands behind his back. Before long, the broad leaves of the evergreen which was the only potted plant they had were swallowed up in the darkness, and stars twinkled between white clouds which looked like torn cotton. Night had fallen. Ssu-min could not repress his growing indignation. He felt called on to do great deeds, to declare war on all bad students about and on this wicked society. By degrees he grew bolder and bolder, his steps became longer and longer, and the thud of his cloth soles grew louder and louder, waking the hen and her chicks in the coop so that they cheeped in alarm.
A light appeared in the hall--the signal that supper was ready--and the whole household gathered round the table in the middle. The lamp stood at the lower end of the table, while Ssu-min sat alone at the head. His plump, round face was like Hsueh-cheng's, with the addition of two sparse whiskers. Seen through the hot vapour from the vegetable soup, he looked like the God of Wealth you find in temples. On the left sat Mrs. Ssu-min and Chao-erh, on the right Hsueh-cheng and Hsiu-erh. Chopsticks pattered like rain against the bowls. Though no one said a word, their supper table was very animated.
Chao-erh upset her bowl, spilling soup over half the table. Ssu-min opened his narrow eyes as wide as he could. Only when he saw she was going to cry did he stop glaring at her and reach out with his chopsticks for a tender morsel of cabbage he had spotted. But the tender morsel had disappeared. He looked right and left, and discovered Hsueh-cheng on the point of stuffing it into his wide-open mouth. Disappointed, Ssu-min ate a mouthful of yellowish leaves instead.
"Hsueh-cheng!" He looked at his son. "Have you found that phrase or not?"
"Which phrase?--No, not yet!"
"Pah! Look at you, not a good student and with no sense either--all you can do is eat! You should learn from that filial daughter: although she's a beggar, she still treats her grandmother very respectfully, even if it means going hungry herself. But what do you impudent students know of such things? You'll grow up like those low types. . . ."
"I've thought of one possibility, but I don't know if it's right . . . . I think, perhaps, they may have said o-du-fu-la (Chinese transliteration of 'old fool'--Translator)."
"That's right! That's it exactly! That's exactly the sound it was: o-du-fu-la. What does that mean? You belong to the same group: you must know."
"Mean?--I'm not sure what it means."
"Nonsense. Don't try to deceive me. You're all a bad lot."
"'Even thunder won't strike folk at meat,'" burst out Mrs. Ssu-min suddenly. "Why do you keep losing your temper today? Even at supper you can't stop hitting the hen while pointing at the dog. What do boys that age understand?"
"What?" Ssu-min was on the point of answering back when he saw her sunken cheeks were quivering with anger, her colour had changed, and a fearful glint had come into her eyes. He hastily changed his tune. "I'm not losing my temper. I'm just telling Hsueh-cheng to learn a little sense."
"How can he understand what's in your mind?" She looked angrier than ever. "If he had any sense, he'd long since have lit a lantern or a torch and gone out to fetch that filial daughter. You've already bought her one cake of soap: all you have to do is buy another. . . ."
"Nonsense! That's what that low type said."
"I'm not so sure. If you buy another cake and give her a good scrubbing, then worship her, the whole world will be at peace."
"How can you say such a thing? What connection is there? Because I remembered you'd no soap. . . . ."
"There's a connection all right. You bought it specially for the filial daughter; so go and give her a good scrubbing. I don't deserve it. I don't want it. I don't want to share her glory."
"Really, how can you talk like that?" mumbled Ssu-min. "You women. . . ." His face was perspiring like Hsueh-cheng's after Hexagram Boxing, probably mostly because the food had been so hot.
"What about us women? We women are much better than you men. If you men aren't cursing eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl students, you're praising eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl beggars: such dirty minds you have! Scrubbing, indeed! --Disgusting!"
"Didn't you hear? That's what one of those low types said."
"Ssu-min!" A thundering voice was heard from the darkness outside.
"Tao-tung? I'm coming!"
Ssu-min knew this was Ho Tao-tung, famed for his powerful voice, and he shouted back as joyfully as a criminal newly reprieved.
"Hsueh-cheng, hurry up and light the lamp and show Uncle Ho into the library!"
Hsueh-cheng lit a candle, and ushered Tao-tong into the west room. They were followed by Pu Wei-yuan.
"I'm sorry I didn't welcome you. Excuse me." With his mouth still full of rice, Ssu-min went in and bowed with clasped hands in greeting. "Won't you join us at our simple meal? . . ."
"We've already eaten," Wei-yuan stepped forward and greeted him. "We've hurried here at this time of night because of the eighteenth essay and poem contest of the Moral Rearmament Literary League. Isn't tomorrow the seventeenth?"
"What? Is it the sixteenth today?" asked Ssu-min in surprise.
"See how absent-minded you are!" boomed Tao-tung.
"So we'll have to send something in tonight to the newspaper office, to make sure they print it tomorrow."
"I've already drafted the title of the essay. See whether you think it will do or not." As he was speaking, Tao-tung produced a slip of paper from his handkerchief and handed it to Ssu-min.
Ssu-min stepped up to the candle, unfolded the paper, and read it word by word: " We humbly suggest an essay in the name of the whole nation to beg the President to issue an order for the promotion of the Confucian classics and the worship of the mother of Mencius, in order to revive this moribund world and preserve our national character.' Very good. Very good. Isn't it a little long, though?"
"That doesn't matter," answered Tao-tung loudly. "I've worked it out, and it won't cost more to advertise. But what about the title for the poem?"
"The title for the poem?" Ssu-min suddenly looked most respectful. "I've thought of one. How about The Filial Daughter? It's a true story, and she deserves to be eulogized. On the main street today. . . ."
"Oh, no, that won't do," put in Wei-yuan hastily, waving his hand to stop Ssu-min. "I saw her too. She isn't from these parts, and I couldn't understand her dialect, nor she mine. I don't know where she's from. Everyone says she's filial; but when I asked her if she could write poems, she shook her head. If she could, that would be fine."
"But since loyalty and filial piety are so important, it doesn't matter too much if she can't write poems. . . ."
"That isn't true. Quite otherwise." Wei-yuan raised his hands and rushed towards Ssu-min, to shake and push him. "She'd only be interesting if she could write poems."
"Let's use this title." Ssu-min pushed him aside. "Add an explanation and print it. In the first place, it will serve to eulogize her; in the second, we can use this to criticize society. What is the world coming to anyway? I watched for some time, and didn't see anybody give her a cent--people are utterly heartless! . . ."
"Aiya, Ssu-min!" Wei-yuan rushed over again. "You're cursing baldheads to a monk. I didn't give her anything because I didn't happen to have any money on me."
"Don't be so sensitive, Wei-yuan." Ssu-min pushed him aside again. "Of course you're an exception. Let me finish. There was quite a crowd around them, showing no respect, just jeering. There were two low types as well, who were even more impertinent. One of them said: 'Ah-fa! If you buy two cakes of soap and give her a good scrubbing, the result won't be bad at all!' Just think. . . ."
"Ha, ha! Two cakes of soap!" Tao-tong suddenly bellowed with laughter, nearly splitting their ear-drums. "Buy soap! Ho, ho, ho!"
"Tao-tung! Tao-tung! Don't make such a noise!" Ssu-min gave a start, panic-stricken.
"A good scrubbing! Ho, ho, ho!"
"Tao-tung!" Ssu-min looked stern. "We're discussing serious matters. Why should you make such a noise, nearly deafening everyone? Listen to me: we'll use both these titles, and send them straight to the newspaper office so that they come out without fail tomorrow. I'll have to trouble you both to take them there."
"All right, all right. Of course," agreed Wei-yuan readily.
"Ha, ha! A good scrubbing! Ho, ho!"
"Tao-tung!" shouted Ssu-min furiously.
This shout made Tao-rung stop laughing. After they had drawn up the explanation, Wei-yuan copied it on the paper and left with Tao-tung for the newspaper office. Ssu-min carried the candle to see them out, then walked back to the door of the hall feeling rather apprehensive. After some hesitation, though, he finally crossed the threshold. As he went in, his eyes fell on the small, green, oblong package of soap in the middle of the central table, the gold characters with fine designs around them glittering in the lamplight.
Hsiu-erh and Chao-erh were playing on the floor at the lower end of the table, while Hsueh-cheng sat on the right side looking up something in his dictionary. Last of all, on the high-backed chair in the shadows far from the lamp, Ssu-min discovered his wife. Her impassive face showed neither joy nor anger, and she was staring at nothing.
"A good scrubbing indeed! Disgusting!"
Faintly, Ssu-min heard Hsiu-erh's voice behind him. He turned, but she was not moving. Only Chao-erh put both small hands to her face as if to shame somebody.
This was no place for him. He blew out the candle, and went into the yard to pace up and down. Because he forgot to be quiet, the hen and her chicks started cheeping again. At once he walked more lightly, moving further away. After a long time, the lamp in the hall was transferred to the bedroom. The moonlight on the ground was like seamless white gauze, and the moon--quite full--seemed a jade disc among the bright clouds.
He felt not a little depressed, as if he, like the filial daughter. were "utterly forlorn and alone." That night he did not sleep till very late.
By the next morning, however, the soap was being honoured by being used. Getting up later than usual, he saw his wife leaning over the wash-stand rubbing her neck, with bubbles heaped up over both her ears like those emitted by great crabs The difference between these and the small white bubbles produced by honey locust pods was like that between heaven and earth. After this, an indefinable fragrance rather reminiscent of olives always emanated from Mrs. Ssu-min. Not for neatly half a year did this suddenly give place to another scent, which all who smelt it averred was like sandal-wood.
______
[Note: locust] In many parts of
[Note: o-du-fu] In Chinese this means "vicious wife."
[Note: Kuang Hsu] I.e. 1875-1908.
[Note: English] English was taught in nearly all the new schools at that time, and learning to speak was considered as important as learning to read.
[Note: monks, nuns] Monks and nuns in
[Note: Mencius's mother] A woman famous for her virtue. According to tradition, she moved house three times to avoid undesirahle companions for her son.
[Note: poetess] In old
March 22, 1924
肥皂
四铭太太正在斜日光中背着北窗和她八岁的女儿秀儿糊纸锭，忽听得又重又缓的布鞋底声响，知道四铭进来了，并不去看他，只是糊纸锭。但那布鞋底声却愈响愈逼近，觉得终于停在她的身边了，于是不免转过眼去看，只见四铭就在她面前耸肩曲背的狠命掏着布马挂底下的袍子的大襟后面的口袋。
他好容易曲曲折折的汇出手来，手里就有一个小小的长方包，葵绿色的，一径递给四太太。她刚接到手，就闻到一阵似橄榄非橄榄的说不清的香味，还看见葵绿色的纸包上有一个金光灿烂的印子和许多细簇簇的花纹。秀儿即刻跳过来要抢着看，四太太赶忙推开她。
“上了街？……”她一面看，一面问。
“唔唔。”他看着她手里的纸包，说。
于是这葵绿色的纸包被打开了，里面还有一层很薄的纸，也是葵绿色，揭开薄纸，才露出那东西的本身来，光滑坚致，也是葵绿色，上面还有细簇簇的花纹，而薄纸原来却是米色的，似橄榄非橄榄的说不清的香味也来得更浓了。
“唉唉，这实在是好肥皂。”她捧孩子似的将那葵绿色的东西送到鼻子下面去，嗅着说。
“唔唔，你以后就用这个……。”
她看见他嘴里这么说，眼光却射在她的脖子上，便觉得颧骨以下的脸上似乎有些热。她有时自己偶然摸到脖子上，尤其是耳朵后，指面上总感着些粗糙，本来早就知道是积年的老泥，但向来倒也并不很介意。现在在他的注视之下，对着这葵绿异香的洋肥皂，可不禁脸上有些发热了，而且这热又不绝的蔓延开去，即刻一径到耳根。她于是就决定晚饭后要用这肥皂来拚命的洗一洗。
“有些地方，本来单用皂荚子是洗不干净的。”她自对自的说。
“妈，这给我！”秀儿伸手来抢葵绿纸；在外面玩耍的小女儿招儿也跑到了。四太太赶忙推开她们，裹好薄纸，又照旧包上葵绿纸，欠过身去搁在洗脸台上最高的一层格子上，看一看，翻身仍然糊纸锭。
“学程！”四铭记起了一件事似的，忽而拖长了声音叫，就在她对面的一把高背椅子上坐下了。
“学程！”她也帮着叫。
她停下糊纸锭，侧耳一听，什么响应也没有，又见他仰着头焦急的等着，不禁很有些抱歉了，便尽力提高了喉咙，尖利的叫：
“[纟全]儿呀！”
这一叫确乎有效，就听到皮鞋声橐橐的近来，不一会，[纟全]儿已站在她面前了，只穿短衣，肥胖的圆脸上亮晶晶的流着油汗。
“你在做什么？怎么爹叫也不听见？”她谴责的说。
“我刚在练八卦拳〔２〕……。”他立即转身向了四铭，笔挺的站着，看着他，意思是问他什么事。
“学程，我就要问你：‘恶毒妇’是什么？”
“‘恶毒妇’？……那是，‘很凶的女人’罢？……”
“胡说！胡闹！”四铭忽而怒得可观。“我是‘女人’么！？”
学程吓得倒退了两步，站得更挺了。他虽然有时觉得他走路很像上台的老生，却从没有将他当作女人看待，他知道自己答的很错了。
“‘恶毒妇’是‘很凶的女人’，我倒不懂，得来请教你？——这不是中国话，是鬼子话，我对你说。这是什么意思，你懂么？”
“我，……我不懂。”学程更加局促起来。
“吓，我白化钱送你进学堂，连这一点也不懂。亏煞你的学堂还夸什么‘口耳并重’，倒教得什么也没有。说这鬼话的人至多不过十四五岁，比你还小些呢，已经叽叽咕咕的能说了，你却连意思也说不出，还有这脸说‘我不懂’！——现在就给我去查出来！”
学程在喉咙底里答应了一声“是”，恭恭敬敬的退出去了。
“这真叫作不成样子，”过了一会，四铭又慷慨的说，“现在的学生是。其实，在光绪年间，我就是最提倡开学堂的，〔３〕可万料不到学堂的流弊竟至于如此之大：什么解放咧，自由咧，没有实学，只会胡闹。学程呢，为他化了的钱也不少了，都白化。好容易给他进了中西折中的学堂，英文又专是‘口耳并重’的，你以为这该好了罢，哼，可是读了一年，连‘恶毒妇’也不懂，大约仍然是念死书。吓，什么学堂，造就了些什么？我简直说：应该统统关掉！”
“对咧，真不如统统关掉的好。”四太太糊着纸锭，同情的说。
“秀儿她们也不必进什么学堂了。‘女孩子，念什么书？’九公公先前这样说，反对女学的时候，我还攻击他呢；可是现在看起来，究竟是老年人的话对。你想，女人一阵一阵的在街上走，已经很不雅观的了，她们却还要剪头发。我最恨的就是那些剪了头发的女学生，我简直说，军人土匪倒还情有可原，搅乱天下的就是她们，应该很严的办一办……。”
“对咧，男人都像了和尚还不够，女人又来学尼姑了。”
“学程！”
学程正捧着一本小而且厚的金边书快步进来，便呈给四铭，指着一处说：
“这倒有点像。这个……。”
四铭接来看时，知道是字典，但文字非常小，又是横行的。他眉头一皱，擎向窗口，细着眼睛，就学程所指的一行念过去：
“‘第十八世纪创立之共济讲社〔４〕之称’。——唔，不对。——这声音是怎么念的？”他指着前面的“鬼子”字，问。
“恶特拂罗斯（Ｏｄｄｆｅｌｌｏｗｓ）。”
“不对，不对，不是这个。”四铭又忽而愤怒起来了。“我对你说：那是一句坏话，骂人的话，骂我这样的人的。懂了么？查去！”
学程看了他几眼，没有动。
“这是什么闷胡卢，没头没脑的？你也先得说说清，教他好用心的查去。”她看见学程为难，觉得可怜，便排解而且不满似的说。
“就是我在大街上广润祥买肥皂的时候，”四铭呼出了一口气，向她转过脸去，说。“店里又有三个学生在那里买东西。我呢，从他们看起来，自然也怕太噜苏一点了罢。我一气看了六七样，都要四角多，没有买；看一角一块的，又太坏，没有什么香。我想，不如中通的好，便挑定了那绿的一块，两角四分。伙计本来是势利鬼，眼睛生在额角上的，早就撅着狗嘴的了；可恨那学生这坏小子又都挤眉弄眼的说着鬼话笑。后来，我要打开来看一看才付钱：洋纸包着，怎么断得定货色的好坏呢。谁知道那势利鬼不但不依，还蛮不讲理，说了许多可恶的废话；坏小子们又附和着说笑。那一句是顶小的一个说的，而且眼睛看着我，他们就都笑起来了：可见一定是一句坏话。”他于是转脸对着学程道，“你只要在‘坏话类’里去查去！”
学程在喉咙底里答应了一声“是”，恭恭敬敬的退去了。
“他们还嚷什么‘新文化新文化’，‘化’到这样了，还不够？”他两眼钉着屋梁，尽自说下去。“学生也没有道德，社会上也没有道德，再不想点法子来挽救，中国这才真个要亡了。——你想，那多么可叹？……”
“什么？”她随口的问，并不惊奇。
“孝女。”他转眼对着她，郑重的说。“就在大街上，有两个讨饭的。一个是姑娘，看去该有十八九岁了。——其实这样的年纪，讨饭是很不相宜的了，可是她还讨饭。——和一个六七十岁的老的，白头发，眼睛是瞎的，坐在布店的檐下求乞。大家多说她是孝女，那老的是祖母。她只要讨得一点什么，便都献给祖母吃，自己情愿饿肚皮。可是这样的孝女，有人肯布施么？”他射出眼光来钉住她，似乎要试验她的识见。
她不答话，也只将眼光钉住他，似乎倒是专等他来说明。
“哼，没有。”他终于自己回答说。“我看了好半天，只见一个人给了一文小钱；其余的围了一大圈，倒反去打趣。还有两个光棍，竟肆无忌惮的说：‘阿发，你不要看得这货色脏。你只要去买两块肥皂来，咯支咯支遍身洗一洗，好得很哩！’哪，你想，这成什么话？”
“哼，”她低下头去了，久之，才又懒懒的问，“你给了钱么？”
“我么？——没有。一两个钱，是不好意思拿出去的。她不是平常的讨饭，总得……。”
“嗡。”她不等说完话，便慢慢地站起来，走到厨下去。昏黄只显得浓密，已经是晚饭时候了。
四铭也站起身，走出院子去。天色比屋子里还明亮，学程就在墙角落上练习八卦拳：这是他的“庭训”〔５〕，利用昼夜之交的时间的经济法，学程奉行了将近大半年了。他赞许似的微微点一点头，便反背着两手在空院子里来回的踱方步。不多久，那惟一的盆景万年青的阔叶又已消失在昏暗中，破絮一般的白云间闪出星点，黑夜就从此开头。四铭当这时候，便也不由的感奋起来，仿佛就要大有所为，与周围的坏学生以及恶社会宣战。他意气渐渐勇猛，脚步愈跨愈大，布鞋底声也愈走愈响，吓得早已睡在笼子里的母鸡和小鸡也都唧唧足足的叫起来了。
堂前有了灯光，就是号召晚餐的烽火，合家的人们便都齐集在中央的桌子周围。灯在下横；上首是四铭一人居中，也是学程一般肥胖的圆脸，但多两撇细胡子，在菜汤的热气里，独据一面，很像庙里的财神。左横是四太太带着招儿；右横是学程和秀儿一列。碗筷声雨点似的响，虽然大家不言语，也就是很热闹的晚餐。
招儿带翻了饭碗了，菜汤流得小半桌。四铭尽量的睁大了细眼睛瞪着看得她要哭，这才收回眼光，伸筷自去夹那早先看中了的一个菜心去。可是菜心已经不见了，他左右一瞥，就发见学程刚刚夹着塞进他张得很大的嘴里去，他于是只好无聊的吃了一筷黄菜叶。
“学程，”他看着他的脸说，“那一句查出了没有？”
“那一句？——那还没有。”
“哼，你看，也没有学问，也不懂道理，单知道吃！学学那个孝女罢，做了乞丐，还是一味孝顺祖母，自己情愿饿肚子。但是你们这些学生那里知道这些，肆无忌惮，将来只好像那光棍……。”
“想倒想着了一个，但不知可是。——我想，他们说的也许是‘阿尔特肤尔’〔６〕。”
“哦哦，是的！就是这个！他们说的就是这样一个声音：‘恶毒夫咧。’这是什么意思？你也就是他们这一党：你知道的。”
“意思，——意思我不很明白。”
“胡说！瞒我。你们都是坏种！”
“‘天不打吃饭人’，你今天怎么尽闹脾气，连吃饭时候也是打鸡骂狗的。他们小孩子们知道什么。”四太太忽而说。
“什么？”四铭正想发话，但一回头，看见她陷下的两颊已经鼓起，而且很变了颜色，三角形的眼里也发着可怕的光，便赶紧改口说，“我也没有闹什么脾气，我不过教学程应该懂事些。”
“他那里懂得你心里的事呢。”她可是更气忿了。“他如果能懂事，早就点了灯笼火把，寻了那孝女来了。好在你已经给她买好了一块肥皂在这里，只要再去买一块……”
“胡说！那话是那光棍说的。”
“不见得。只要再去买一块，给她咯支咯支的遍身洗一洗，供起来，天下也就太平了。”
“什么话？那有什么相干？我因为记起了你没有肥皂……”
“怎么不相干？你是特诚买给孝女的，你咯支咯支的去洗去。我不配，我不要，我也不要沾孝女的光。”
“这真是什么话？你们女人……”四铭支吾着，脸上也像学程练了八卦拳之后似的流出油汗来，但大约大半也因为吃了太热的饭。
“我们女人怎么样？我们女人，比你们男人好得多。你们男人不是骂十八九岁的女学生，就是称赞十八九岁的女讨饭：都不是什么好心思。‘咯支咯支’，简直是不要脸！”
“我不是已经说过了？那是一个光棍……”
“四翁！”外面的暗中忽然起了极响的叫喊。
“道翁么？我就来！”四铭知道那是高声有名的何道统，便遇赦似的，也高兴的大声说。“学程，你快点灯照何老伯到书房去！”
学程点了烛，引着道统走进西边的厢房里，后面还跟着卜薇园。
“失迎失迎，对不起。”四铭还嚼着饭，出来拱一拱手，说。“就在舍间用便饭，何如？……”
“已经偏过了。”薇园迎上去，也拱一拱手，说。“我们连夜赶来，就为了那移风文社的第十八届征文题目，明天不是‘逢七’么？”
“哦！今天十六？”四铭恍然的说。
“你看，多么胡涂！”道统大嚷道。
“那么，就得连夜送到报馆去，要他明天一准登出来。”
“文题我已经拟下了。你看怎样，用得用不得？”道统说着，就从手巾包里挖出一张纸条来交给他。
四铭踱到烛台面前，展开纸条，一字一字的读下去：
“‘恭拟全国人民合词吁请贵大总统特颁明令专重圣经崇祀孟母〔７〕以挽颓风而存国粹文”。——好极好极。可是字数太多了罢？”
“不要紧的！”道统大声说。“我算过了，还无须乎多加广告费。但是诗题呢？”
“诗题么？”四铭忽而恭敬之状可掬了。“我倒有一个在这里：孝女行。那是实事，应该表彰表彰她。我今天在大街上……”
“哦哦，那不行。”薇园连忙摇手，打断他的话。“那是我也看见的。她大概是‘外路人’，我不懂她的话，她也不懂我的话，不知道她究竟是那里人。大家倒都说她是孝女；然而我问她可能做诗，她摇摇头。要是能做诗，那就好了。”
“然而忠孝是大节，不会做诗也可以将就……。”
“那倒不然，而孰知不然！”薇园摊开手掌，向四铭连摇带推的奔过去，力争说。“要会做诗，然后有趣。”
“我们，”四铭推开他，“就用这个题目，加上说明，登报去。一来可以表彰表彰她；二来可以借此针砭社会。现在的社会还成个什么样子，我从旁考察了好半天，竟不见有什么人给一个钱，这岂不是全无心肝……”
“阿呀，四翁！”薇园又奔过来，“你简直是在‘对着和尚骂贼秃’了。我就没有给钱，我那时恰恰身边没有带着。”
“不要多心，薇翁。”四铭又推开他，“你自然在外，又作别论。你听我讲下去：她们面前围了一大群人，毫无敬意，只是打趣。还有两个光棍，那是更其肆无忌惮了，有一个简直说，‘阿发，你去买两块肥皂来，咯支咯支遍身洗一洗，好得很哩。’你想，这……”
“哈哈哈！两块肥皂！”道统的响亮的笑声突然发作了，震得人耳朵[口皇][口皇]的叫。“你买，哈哈，哈哈！”
“道翁，道翁，你不要这么嚷。”四铭吃了一惊，慌张的说。
“咯支咯支，哈哈！”
“道翁！”四铭沉下脸来了，“我们讲正经事，你怎么只胡闹，闹得人头昏。你听，我们就用这两个题目，即刻送到报馆去，要他明天一准登出来。这事只好偏劳你们两位了。”
“可以可以，那自然。”薇园极口应承说。
“呵呵，洗一洗，咯支……唏唏……”
“道翁！！！”四铭愤愤的叫。
道统给这一喝，不笑了。他们拟好了说明，薇园誊在信笺上，就和道统跑往报馆去。四铭拿着烛台，送出门口，回到堂屋的外面，心里就有些不安逸，但略一踌蹰，也终于跨进门槛去了。他一进门，迎头就看见中央的方桌中间放着那肥皂的葵绿色的小小的长方包，包中央的金印子在灯光下明晃晃的发闪，周围还有细小的花纹。
秀儿和招儿都蹲在桌子下横的地上玩；学程坐在右横查字典。最后在离灯最远的阴影里的高背椅子上发见了四太太，灯光照处，见她死板板的脸上并不显出什么喜怒，眼睛也并不看着什么东西。
“咯支咯支，不要脸不要脸……”
四铭微微的听得秀儿在他背后说，回头看时，什么动作也没有了，只有招儿还用了她两只小手的指头在自己脸上抓。
他觉得存身不住，便熄了烛，踱出院子去。他来回的踱，一不小心，母鸡和小鸡又唧唧足足的叫了起来，他立即放轻脚步，并且走远些。经过许多时，堂屋里的灯移到卧室里去了。他看见一地月光，仿佛满铺了无缝的白纱，玉盘似的月亮现在白云间，看不出一点缺。
他很有些悲伤，似乎也像孝女一样，成了“无告之民”〔８〕，孤苦零丁了。他这一夜睡得非常晚。
但到第二天的早晨，肥皂就被录用了。这日他比平日起得迟，看见她已经伏在洗脸台上擦脖子，肥皂的泡沫就如大螃蟹嘴上的水泡一般，高高的堆在两个耳朵后，比起先前用皂荚时候的只有一层极薄的白沫来，那高低真有霄壤之别了。从此之后，四太太的身上便总带着些似橄榄非橄榄的说不清的香味；几乎小半年，这才忽而换了样，凡有闻到的都说那可似乎是檀香。一九二四年三月二二日。
〔１〕本篇最初发表于一九二四年三月二十七、二十八日北京《晨报副刊》。
〔２〕八卦拳拳术的一种，多用掌法，按八卦的特定形式运行。清末有些王公大臣和“五四”前后的封建复古派把它作为“国粹”加以提倡。
〔３〕关于光绪年间开学堂，戊戌变法（１８９８）前后，在维新派的推动下，我国开始兴办近代教育，开设学堂。这些学堂当时曾不同程度地传播了西方近代的科学文化和社会学说。
〔４〕共济讲社（Ｏｄｄｆｅｌｌｏｗｓ）又译共济社，十八世纪在英国出现的一种以互济为目的的秘密结社。
〔５〕“庭训”《论语·季氏》载：孔丘“尝独立，鲤（按即孔丘的儿子）趋而过庭”，孔丘要他学“诗”、学“礼”。后来就常有人称父亲的教训为“庭训”或“过庭之训”。
〔６〕“阿尔特肤尔”英语Ｏｌｄｆｏｏｌ的音译，意为“老傻瓜”。
〔７〕孟母指孟轲的母亲，旧时传说她是善于教子的“贤母”。
〔８〕“无告之民”语出《礼记·王制》，其中说：孤、独、鳏、寡“四者，天民之穷而无告者也”。无告，有苦无处诉说。
THE MISANTHROPE孤独者
I
My friendship with Wei Lien-shu, now that I come to think of it, was certainly a strange one. It began and ended with a funeral.
When I lived in S----, I often heard him mentioned as an odd fellow: after studying zoology, he had become a history teacher in a middle school. He treated others in cavalier fashion, yet liked to concern himself with their affairs; and while maintaining that the family system should be abolished, he sent his salary to his grandmother the same day that he drew it. He had many other strange ways, enough to set tongues wagging in the town. One autumn I stayed at Hanshihshan with some relatives also named Wei, who were distantly related to him. However, they understood him even less, looking on him as if he were a foreigner. "He's not like us!" they said.
This was not strange, for although
Towards the end of autumn, there was an epidemic of dysentery in the village, and in alarm I thought of returning to the town. I heard his grandmother had contracted the disease too, and because of her age her case was serious. Moreover there was not a single doctor in the village. Wei had no other relative but this grandmother, who with one maidservant led a simple life. As he had lost both parents in his childhood, she had brought him up. She was said to have known much hardship earlier, but was now leading a comfortable life. Since he had neither wife nor children, however, his family was very quiet, and this presumably was one of the things about him considered freakish.
The village was more than thirty miles from the town by land, and more than twenty miles by water; so that it would take four days to fetch Wei back. In this out-of-the-way village such matters were considered momentous news, eagerly canvassed by all. The next day the old woman was reported to be in a critical state, and the messenger on his way. However, before dawn she died, her last words being:
"Why won't you let me see my grandson?"
Elders of the clan, close relatives, members of his grandmother's family and others, crowded the room anticipating Wei's return, which would be in time for the funeral. The coffin and shroud had long been ready, but the immediate problem was how to cope with this grandson, for they expected he would insist on changing the funeral rites. After a conference, they decided on three terms which he must accept. First, he must wear deep mourning; secondly, he must kowtow to the coffin; and, thirdly, he must let Buddhist monks and Taoist priests say mass. In short, all must be done in the traditional manner.
This decision once reached, they decided to gather there in full force when Wei arrived home, to assist each other in this negotiation which could admit of no compromise. Licking their lips, the villagers eagerly awaited developments. Wei, as a "modern," "a follower of foreign creeds," had always proved unreasonable. A struggle would certainly ensue, which might even result in some novel spectacle.
He arrived home, I heard, in the afternoon, and only bowed to his grandmother's shrine as he entered. The elders proceeded at once according to plan. They summoned him to the ball, and after a lengthy preamble led up to the subject. Then, speaking in unison and at length, they gave him no chance to argue. At last, however, they dried up, and a deep silence fell in the hall. All eyes fastened fearfully on his lips. But without changing countenance, he answered simply:
"All right."
This was totally unexpected. A weight had been lifted from their minds, yet their hearts felt heavier than ever, for this was so "freakish" as to give rise to anxiety. The villagers looking for news were also disappointed, and said to each other, "Strange. He said, 'All right.' Let's go and watch." Wei's "all right" meant that all would be in accordance with tradition, in which case it was not worth watching; still, they wanted to look on, and after dusk the hall filled with light-hearted spectators.
I was one of those who went, having first sent along my gift of incense and candles. As I arrived he was already putting the shroud on the dead. He was a thin man with an angular face, hidden to a certain extent by his dishevelled hair, dark eyebrows and moustache. His eyes gleamed darkly. He laid out the body very well, as deftly as an expert, so that the spectators were impressed. According to the local custom, at a married woman's funeral members of the dead woman's family found fault even when everything was well done; however, he remained silent, complying with their wishes with a face devoid of all expression. An old, grey-haired woman standing before me gave a sigh of envy and respect.
People kowtowed; then they wailed, all the women chanting as they wailed. When the body was put in the coffin, all kowtowed again, then wailed again, until the lid of the coffin was nailed down. Silence reigned for a moment, and then there was a stir of surprise and dissatisfaction. I too suddenly realized that from beginning to end Wei had not shed a single tear. He was simply sitting on the mourner's mat, his two eyes gleaming darkly.
In this atmosphere of surprise and dissatisfaction, the ceremony ended. The disgruntled mourners seemed about to leave, but Wei was still sitting on the mat, lost in thought. Suddenly, tears fell from his eyes, then he burst into a long wail like a wounded wolf howling in the wilderness in the dead of night, anger and sorrow mingled with his agony. This was not in accordance with tradition and, taken by surprise, we were at a loss. After a little hesitation, some went to try to persuade him to stop, and these were joined by more and more people until finally there was a crowd round him. But he sat there wailing, motionless as an iron statue.
Feeling awkward, the crowd dispersed. Wei continued to cry for about half an hour, then suddenly stopped, and without a word to the mourners went straight inside. Later it was reported by spies that he had gone into his grandmother's room, lain down on the bed and, to all appearances, fallen sound asleep.
Two days later, on the eve of my return to town, I heard the villagers discussing eagerly, as if they were possessed, how Wei intended to burn most of his dead grandmother's furniture and possessions, giving the rest to the maidservant who had served her during her life and attended her on her deathbed. Even the house was to be lent to the maid for an indefinite period. Wei's relatives argued themselves hoarse, but could not shake his resolution.
On my way back, largely out of curiosity perhaps, I passed his house and went in to express condolence. He received me wearing a hemless white mourning dress, and his expression was as cold as ever. I urged him not to take it so to heart, but apart from grunting noncommittally all he said was:
"Thanks for your concern."
II
Early that winter we met for the third time. It was in a bookshop in S----, where we nodded simultaneously, showing at least that we were acquainted. But it was at the end of that year, after I lost my job, that we became friends. Thenceforward I paid Wei many visits. In the first place, of course, I had nothing to do; in the second place, despite his habitual reserve, he was said to sympathize with lame dogs. However, fortune being fickle, lame dogs do not remain lame for ever, hence he had few steady friends. Report proved true, for as soon as I sent in my card, he received me. His sitting-room consisted of two rooms thrown into one, quite bare of ornament, with nothing in it apart from table and chairs, but some bookcases. Although he was reputed to be terribly "modern," there were few modern books on the shelves. He knew that I had lost my job; but after the usual polite remarks had been exchanged, host and guest sat silent, with nothing to say to each other. I noticed he very quickly finished his cigarette, only dropping it to the ground when it nearly burned his fingers.
"Have a cigarette," he said suddenly, reaching for another.
I took one and, between puffs, spoke of teaching and books, still finding very little to say. I was just thinking of leaving when I heard shouts and footsteps outside the door, and four children rushed in. The eldest was about eight or nine, the smallest four or five. Their hands, faces and clothes were very dirty, and they were thoroughly unprepossessing; yet Wei's face lit up with pleasure, and getting up at once he walked to the other room, saying:
"Come, Ta-liang, Erh-liang, all of you! I have bought the mouth-organs you wanted yesterday."
The children rushed in after him, to return immediately with a mouth-organ apiece; but once outside they started fighting, and one of them cried.
"There's one each; they're exactly the same. Don't squabble!" he said as he followed them.
"Whose children are they?" I asked.
"The landlord's. They have no mother, only a grandmother."
"Your landlord is a widower?"
"Yes. His wife died three or four years ago, and he has not remarried. Otherwise, he would not rent his spare rooms to a bachelor like me." He said this with a cold smile.
I wanted very much to ask why he had remained single so long, but I did not know him well enough.
Once you knew him well, he was a good talker. He was full of ideas, many of them quite remarkable. What exasperated me were some of his guests. As a result, probably, of reading Yu Ta-fu's romantic stories, they constantly referred to themselves as "the young unfortunate" or "the outcast"; and, sprawling on the big chairs like lazy and arrogant crabs, they would sigh, smoke and frown all at the same time.
Then there were the landlord's children, who always fought among themselves, knocked over bowls and plates, begged for cakes and kept up an ear-splitting din. Yet the sight of them invariably dispelled Wei's customary coldness, and they seemed to be the most precious thing in his life. Once the third child was said to have measles. He was so worried that his dark face took on an even darker hue. The attack proved a light one, however, and thereafter the children's grandmother made a joke of his anxiety.
Apparently sensing my impatience, he seized an opening one day to say, "Children are always good. They are all so innocent. . . . ."
"Not always," I answered casually.
"Always. Children have none of the faults of grown-ups. If they turn out badly later, as you contend, it is because they have been moulded by their environment. Originally they are nor bad, but innocent. . . . I think
"I don't agree. Without the root of evil, how could they bear evil fruit in later life? Take a seed, for example. It is because it contains the embryo leaves, flowers and fruits, that later it grows into these things. There must be a cause. . . ." Since my unemployment, just like those great officials who resigned from office and took up Buddhism, I had been reading the Buddhist sutras. I did not understand Buddhist philosophy though, and was just talking at random.
However, Wei was annoyed. He gave me a look, then said no more. I could nor tell whether he had no more to say, or whether he felt it not worth arguing with me. But he looked cold again, as he had nor done for a long time, and smoked two cigarettes one after the other in silence. By the time he reached for the third cigarette, I beat a retreat.
Our estrangement lasted three months. Then, owing in part to forgetfulness, in part to the fact that he fell out with those "innocent" children, he came to consider my slighting remarks on children as excusable. Or so I surmised. This happened in my house after drinking one day, when, with a rather melancholy look, he cocked his head and said:
"Come to think of it, it's really curious. On my way here I met a small child with a reed in his hand, which he pointed at me, shouting, 'Kill!' He was just a toddler. . . ."
"He must have been moulded by his environment."
As soon as I had said this, I wanted to take it back. However, he did not seem to care, just went on drinking heavily, smoking furiously in between.
"I meant to ask you," I said, trying to change the subject. "You don't usually call on people, what made you come out today? I've known you for more than a year, yet this is the first time you've been here."
"I was just going to tell you: don't call on me for the time being. There are a father and son in my place who are perfect pests. They are scarcely human!"
"Father and son? Who are they?" I was surprised.
"My cousin and his son. Well, the son resembles the father."
"I suppose they came to town to see you and have a good time?"
"No. They came to talk me into adopting the boy."
"What, to adopt the boy?" I exclaimed in amazement. "But you are not married."
"They know I won't marry. But that's nothing to them. Actually they want to inherit that tumbledown house of mine in the village. I have no other property, you know; as soon as I get money I spend it. I've only that house. Their purpose in life is to drive out the old maidservant who is living in the place for the time being."
The cynicism of his remark took me aback. However I tried to soothe him, by saying:
"I don't think your relatives can be so bad. They are only rather old-fashioned. For instance, that year when you cried bitterly, they came forward eagerly to plead with you
"When I was a child and my father died, I cried bitterly because they wanted to take the house from me and make me put my mark on the document. They came forward eagerly then to plead with me. . . ." He looked up, as if searching the air for that bygone scene.
"The crux of the matter is--you have no children. Why don't you get married?" I had found a way to change the subject, and this was something I had been wanting to ask for a long time. It seemed an excellent opportunity.
He looked at me in surprise, then dropped his gaze to his knees, and started smoking. I received no answer to my question.
III
Yet he was not allowed to enjoy even this inane existence in peace. Gradually anonymous attacks appeared in the less reputable papers, and rumours concerning him were spread in the schools. This was not the simple gossip of the old days, but deliberately damaging. I knew this was the outcome of articles he had taken to writing for magazines, so I paid no attention. The citizens of S---- disliked nothing more than fearless argument, and anyone guilty of it indubitably became the object of secret attacks. This was the rule, and Wei knew it too. However, in spring, when I heard he had been asked by the school authorities to resign, I confessed it surprised me. Of course, this was only to be expected, and it surprised me simply because I had hoped my friend would escape. The citizens of S---- were not proving more vicious than usual.
I was occupied then with my own problems, negotiating to go to a school in Shanyang that autumn, so I had no time to call on him. Some three months passed before I was at leisure, and even then it had not occurred to me to visit him. One day, passing the main street, I happened to pause before a secondhand bookstall, where I was startled to see an early edition of the Commentaries on Ssuma Chien's "Historical Records" from Wei's collection on display. He was no connoisseur, but he loved books, and I knew he prized this particular one. He must be very hard pressed to have sold it. It seemed scarcely possible he could have become so poor only two or three months after losing his job; yet he spent money as soon as he had it, and had never saved. I decided to call on him. On the same street I bought a bottle of liquor, two packages of peanuts and two smoked fish-heads.
His door was closed. I called out twice, but there was no reply. Thinking he was asleep, I called louder, at the same time hammering on the door.
"He's probably out." The children's grandmother, a fat woman with small eyes, thrust her grey head our from the opposite window, and spoke impatiently.
"Where has he gone?" I asked.
"Where? Who knows--where could he go? You can wait, he will be back soon."
I pushed open the door and went into his sitting-room. It was greatly changed, looking desolate in its emptiness. There was little furniture left, while all that remained of his library were those foreign books which could not be sold. The middle of the room was still occupied by the table around which those woeful and gallant young men, unrecognized geniuses, and dirty, noisy children had formerly gathered. Now it all seemed very quiet, and there was a thin layer of dust on the table. I put the bottle and packages down, pulled over a chair, and sat down by the table facing the door.
Very soon, sure enough, the door opened, and someone stepped in as silently as a shadow. It was Wei. It might have been the twilight that made his face look dark; but his expression was unchanged.
"Ah, it's you? How long have you been here?" He seemed pleased.
"Not very long," I said. "Where have you been?"
"Nowhere in particular. Just taking a stroll."
He pulled up a chair too and sat by the table. We started drinking, and spoke of his losing his job. However, he did not care to talk much about it, considering it only to be expected. He had come across many similar cases. It was not strange at all, and nor worth discussing. As usual, he drank heavily, and discoursed on society and the study of history. Something made me glance at the empty bookshelves, and, remembering the Commentaries on Ssuma Chien's "Historical Records", I was conscious of a slight loneliness and sadness.
"Your sitting-room has a deserted look
Have you had fewer visitors recently?"
"None at all. They don't find it much fun when I'm not in a good mood. A bad mood certainly makes people uncomfortable Just as no one goes to the park in winter. . . ."
He took two sips of liquor in succession, then fell silent. Suddenly, looking up, he asked, "I suppose you have had no luck either in finding work?"
Although I knew he was only venting his feelings as a result of drinking, I felt indignant at the way people treated him. Just as I was about to say something, he pricked up his ears, then, scooping up some peanuts, went our. Outside, I could hear the laughter and shouts of the children.
But as soon as he went out, the children became quiet. It sounded as if they had left. He went after them, and said something, but I could hear no reply. Then, as silent as a shadow, he came back and put the handful of peanuts back in the package.
"They don't even want to eat anything I give them," he said sarcastically, in a low voice.
"Old Wei," I said, forcing a smile, although I was sick at heart, "I think you are tormenting yourself unnecessarily. Why think so poorly of your fellow men?"
He only smiled cynically.
"I haven't finished yet. I suppose you consider people like me, who come here occasionally, do so in order to kill time or amuse themselves at your expense?"
"No, I don't. Well, sometimes I do. Perhaps they come to find something to talk about."
"Then you are wrong. People are not like that. You are really wrapping yourself up in a cocoon. You should take a more cheerful view." I sighed.
"Maybe. But tell me, where does the thread for the cocoon come from? Of course, there are plenty of people like that; take my grandmother, for example. Although I have none of her blood in my veins, I may inherit her fate. But that doesn't matter, I have already bewailed my fate together with hers. . . ."
Then I remembered what had happened at his grandmother's funeral. I could almost see it before my eyes.
"I still don't understand why you cried so bitterly," I said bluntly.
"You mean at my grandmother's funeral? No, you wouldn't." He lit the lamp. "I suppose it was because of that that we became friends," he said quietly. "You know, this grandmother was my grandfather's second wife. My father's own mother died when he was three." Growing thoughtful, he drank silently, and finished a smoked fish-head.
"I didn't know it to begin with. Only, from my childhood I was puzzled. Ar that time my father was still alive, and our family was well off. During the lunar New Year we would hang up the ancestral images and hold a grand sacrifice. It was one of my rare pleasures to look at those splendidly dressed images. At that time a maidservant would always carry me to an image, and point at it, saying: 'This is your own grandmother. Bow to her so that she will protect you and make you grow up strong and healthy.' I could not understand how I came to have another grandmother, in addition to the one beside me. But I liked this grandmother who was 'my own.' She was not as old as the granny at home. Young and beautiful, wearing a red costume with golden embroidery and a headdress decked with pearls, she resembled my mother. When I looked at her, her eyes seemed to gaze down on me, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. I knew she was very fond of me too.
"But I liked the granny at home too, who sat all day under the window slowly plying her needle. However, no matter how merrily I laughed and played in front of her, or called to her, I could not make her laugh; and that made me feel she was cold, unlike other children's grandmothers. Still, I liked her. Later on, though, I gradually cooled towards her, nor because I grew older and learned she was not my own grandmother, but rather because I was exasperated by the way she kept on sewing mechanically, day in, day our. She was unchanged, however. She sewed, looked after me, loved and protected me as before; and though she seldom smiled, she never scolded me. It was the same after my father died. Later on, we lived almost entirely on her sewing, so it was still the same, until I went to school. . . ."
The light flickered as the paraffin gave out, and he stood up to refill the lamp from a small tin kettle under the bookcase.
"The price of paraffin has gone up twice this month," he said slowly, after turning up the wick. "Life becomes harder every day. She remained the same until I graduated from school and had a job, when our life became more secure. She didn't change, I suppose, until she was sick, couldn't carry on, and had to take to her bed. . . .
"Since her later days, I think, were not too unhappy on the whole, and she lived to a great age, I need not have mourned. Besides, weren't there a lot of others there eager to wail? Even those who had tried their hardest to rob her, wailed, or appeared bowed down with grief." He laughed. "However, at that moment her whole life rose to my mind--the life of one who created loneliness for herself and tasted its bitterness. I felt there were many people like that. I wanted to weep for them; but perhaps it was largely because I was too sentimental. . . .
"Your present advice to me is what I felt with regard to her. But actually my ideas at that time were wrong. As for myself, since I grew up my feelings for her cooled. . . ."
He paused, with a cigarette between his fingers; and bending his head lost himself in thought. The lamplight flickered.
"Well, it is hard to live so that no one will mourn for your death," he said, as if to himself. After a pause he looked up at me, and said, "I suppose you can't help? I shall have to find something to do very soon."
"Have you no other friends you could ask?" I was in no position to help myself then, let alone others.
"I have a few, but they are all in the same boat. . . ."
When I left him, the full moon was high in the sky and the night was very still.
IV
The teaching profession in Shanyang was no bed of roses. I taught for two months without receiving a cent of salary, until I had to cut down on cigarettes. But the school staff, even those earning only fifteen or sixteen dollars a month, were easily contented. They all had iron constitutions steeled by hardship, and, although lean and haggard, they worked from morning till night; while if interrupted at work by their superiors, they stood up respectfully. Thus they all practised plain living and high thinking. This reminded me, somehow, of Wei's parting words. He was then even more hard up, and often looked embarrassed, having apparently lost his former cynicism. When he heard that I was leaving, he came late at night to see me off, and, after hesitating for some rime, he stuttered:
"Would there be anything for me there? Even copying work, at twenty to thirty dollars a month, would do. I . . . ."
I was surprised. I had not thought he would consider anything so low, and did nor know how to answer.
"I . . . I have to live a little longer. . . ."
"I'll look out when I get there. I'll do my best."
This was what I had promised at the rime, and the words often rang in my ears later, as if Wei were still before me, stuttering: "I have to live a little longer." I tried to interest various people in his case, but to no avail. Since there were few vacancies, and many unemployed, these people always ended by apologizing for being unable to help, and I would write him an apologetic letter. By the end of the term, things had gone from bad to worse. The magazine Reason, edited by some of the local gentry, began to attack me. Naturally no names were mentioned, but it cleverly insinuated that I was stirring up trouble in the school, even my recommendation of Wei being interpreted as a manoeuvre to gather a clique about me.
So I had to keep quiet. Apart from attending class, I lay low in my room, sometimes when cigarette smoke escaped from my window, I even feared they might consider I was stirring up trouble. For Wei, naturally, I could do nothing. This state of affairs prevailed till midwinter.
It had been snowing all day, and the snow had not stopped by evening. Outside was so still, you could almost hear the sound of stillness. I closed my eyes and sat there in the dim lamplight doing nothing, imagining the snow-flakes falling, creating boundless drifts of snow. It would be nearly New Year at home too, and everybody would be busy. I saw myself a child again, making a snow man with a group of children on the level ground in the back yard. The eyes of the snow man, made of jet-black fragments of coal, suddenly turned into Wei's eyes.
"I have to live a little longer." The same voice again.
"What for?" I asked inadvertently, aware immediately of the ineptitude of my remark.
This reply woke me up. I sat up, lit a cigarette and opened the window, only to find the snow' falling even faster. I heard a knock at the door, and a moment later it opened to admit the servant, whose step I knew. He handed me a big envelope, more than six inches in length. The address was scrawled, but I saw Wei's name on it.
This was the first letter he had written me since I left S----. Knowing he was a bad correspondent, I had not wondered at his silence, only sometimes I had felt he should have given me some news of himself. The receipt of this letter was quite a surprise. I tore it open. The letter had been hastily scrawled, and said:
". . . Shen-fei,
"How should I address you? I am leaving a blank for you to fill in as you please. It will be all the same to me.
"I have received three letters from you altogether. I did nor reply for one simple reason: I had no money even to buy stamps.
"Perhaps you would like to know what has happened to me. To put it simply: I have failed. I thought I had failed before, but I was wrong then; now, however, I am really a failure. Formerly there was someone who wanted me to live a little longer, and I wished it too, but found it difficult. Now, there is no need, yet I must go on living. . . .
"Shall I live on?
"The one who wanted me to live a little longer could not live himself. He was trapped and killed by the enemy. Who killed him? No one knows.
"Changes take place so swiftly! During the last half year I have virtually been a beggar; it's true, I could be considered a beggar. However, I had my purpose: I was willing to beg for the cause, to go cold and hungry for it, to be lonely for it, to suffer hardship for it. But I did not want to destroy myself. So you see, the fact that one person wanted me to live on, proved extremely potent. Now there is no one, nor one. Ar the same time I feel I do nor deserve to live, nor, in my opinion, do some other people. Yet, I am conscious of wanting to live on to spite those who wish me dead; for at least there is no one left who wants me to live decently, and so no one will be hurt. I don't want to hurt such people. But now there is no one, not one. What a joy! Wonderful! I am now doing what I formerly detested and opposed. I am now giving up all I formerly believed in and upheld. I have really failed--but I have won.
"Do you think I am mad? Do you think I have become a hero or a great man? No, it is not that. It is very simple; I have become adviser to General Tu, hence I have eighty dollars salary a month.
". . . Shen-fei,
"What will you think of me? You decide; it is all the same to me.
"Perhaps you still remember my former sitting-room, the one in which we had our first and last talks. I am still using it. There are new guests, new bribes, new flattery, new seeking for promotion, new kowtows and bows, new mahjong and drinking games, new haughtiness and disgust, new sleeplessness and vomiting of blood. . . .
"You said in your last letter that your teaching was nor going well. Would you like to be an adviser? Say the word, and I will arrange it for you. Actually, work in the gatehouse would be the same. There would be the same guests, bribes and flattery. . . .
"It is snowing heavily here. How is it where you are? It is now midnight, and having just vomited some blood has sobered me. I recall that you have actually written three times in succession to me since autumn--amazing! I give you this news of myself, hoping you will not be shocked.
"I probably shall nor write again; you know my ways of old. When will you be back? If you come soon, we may meet again. Still, I suppose we have taken different roads; you had better forget me. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for trying to find work for me. Now please forget me; I am doing 'well.'
"Wei Lien-shu
"December 14th."
Though this letter did not "shock" me, when, after a hasty perusal, I read it carefully again, I felt both uneasy and relieved. At least his livelihood was secure, and I need not worry about that any more. At any rate, I could do nothing here. I thought of writing to him, but felt there was nothing to say.
In fact, I gradually forgot him. His face no longer sprang so often to my mind's eye. However, less than ten days after hearing from him, the office of the S---- Weekly started sending me its paper. I did not read such papers as a rule, but since it was sent to me I glanced at some of the contents. This reminded me of Wei, for the paper frequently carried poems and essays about him, such as "Calling on scholar Wei at night during a snowstorm," "A poetic gathering at the scholarly abode of Adviser Wei," and so forth. Once, indeed, under the heading "Table Talk," they retailed with gusto certain stories which had previously been considered material for ridicule, but which had now become "Tales of an Eccentric Genius." Only an exceptional man, it was implied, could have done such unusual things.
Although this recalled him to me, my impression of him grew fainter. Yet all the time he seemed to gain a closer hold on me, which often filled me with an inexplicable sense of uneasiness and a shadowy apprehension. However, by autumn the newspaper stopped coming, while the Shanyang magazine began to publish the first instalment of a long essay called "The element of truth in rumours," which asserted that rumours about certain gentlemen had reached the ears of the mighty. My name was among those attacked. I had to be very careful then. I had to take care that my cigarette smoke did not get in other people's way. All these precautions took so much time I could attend to nothing else, and naturally had no leisure to think of Wei. I actually forgot him.
I could nor hold my job till summer. By the end of May I had to leave Shanyang.
V
I wandered between Shanyang, Licheng and Taiku for more than half a year, but could find no work, so I decided to go back to S----. I arrived one afternoon in early spring. It was a cloudy day with everything wrapped in mist. Since there were vacant rooms in my old hostel, I stayed there. On the road I started to think of Wei, and after my arrival I made up my mind to call on him after dinner. Taking two packages of the well-known Wenhsi cakes, I threaded my way through several damp streets, stepping cautiously past many sleeping dogs, until I reached his door. It seemed very bright inside. I thought even his rooms were better lit since he had become an adviser, and smiled to myself. However, when I looked up, I saw a strip of white paper stuck on the door. It occurred to me, as I stepped inside, that the children's grandmother might be dead; but I went straight in.
In the dimly lit courtyard there was a coffin, by which some soldier or orderly in uniform was standing, talking to the children's grandmother. A few workers in short coats were loitering there too. My heart began to beat faster. Just then she turned to look at me.
"Ah, you're back?" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you come earlier?"
"Who . . . who has passed away?" Actually by now I knew, yet I asked all the same.
"Adviser Wei died the day before yesterday."
I looked around. The sitting-room was dimly lit, probably by one lamp only; the front room, however, was decked with white funeral curtains, and the woman's grandchildren had gathered outside that room.
"His body is there," she said, coming forward and pointing to the front room. "After Mr. Wei was promoted, I let him my front room too; that is where he is now."
There was no writing on the funeral curtain. In front stood a long table, then a square table, spread with some dozen dishes. As I went in, two men in long white gowns suddenly appeared to bar the way, their eyes, like those of a dead fish, fixed in surprise and mistrust on my face. I hastily explained my relationship with Wei, and the landlady came up to confirm my statement. Then their hands and eyes dropped, and they allowed me to go forward to bow to the dead.
As I bowed, a wail sounded beside me from the floor. Looking down I saw a child of about ten, also dressed in white, kneeling on a mat. His hair had been cut short, and had some hemp attached to it.
Later I found out one of these men was Wei's cousin, his nearest in kin, while the other was a distant nephew. I asked to be allowed to see Wei, but they tried their best to dissuade me, saying I was too "polite." Finally they gave in, and lifted the curtain.
This time I saw Wei in death. But, strangely enough, though he was wearing a crumpled shirt, stained in front with blood, and his face was very lean, his expression was unchanged. He was sleeping so placidly, with closed mouth and eyes, that I was tempted to put my finger before his nostrils to see if he were still breathing.
Everything was deathly still, both the living and the dead. As I withdrew, his cousin accosted me to state that Wei's untimely death, just when he was in the prime of life and had a great future before him, was not only a calamity for his humble family but a cause of sorrow for his friends. He seemed to be apologizing for Wei for dying. Such eloquence is rare among villagers. However, after that he fell silent again and everything was deathly still, both the living and the dead.
Feeling cheerless, but by no means sad, I withdrew to the courtyard to chat with the old woman. She told me the funeral would soon take place. They were waiting for the shroud, she said, and when the coffin was nailed down, people born under certain stars should nor be near. She rattled on, her words pouring out like a flood. She spoke of Wei's illness, incidents during his life, and even voiced certain criticisms.
"You know, after Mr. Wei came into luck, he was a different man. He held his head high and looked very haughty. He stopped treating people in his old formal way. Did you know, he used to act like an idiot, and call me madam? Later on, she chuckled, "he called me 'old bitch'; it was too funny for words. When people sent him rare herbs like atractylis, instead of eating them himself, he would throw them into the courtyard, just here, and call out, 'You take this, old bitch!' After he came into luck, he had scores of visitors; so I vacated my front room for him, and moved into a side one. As we have always said jokingly, he became a different man after his good luck. If you had come one month earlier, you could have seen all the fun here: drinking games practically every day, talking, laughing, singing, poetry writing and mah-jong games. . . .
"He used to be more afraid of children than they are of their own father, practically grovelling to them. But recently that changed too, and he was a good one for jokes. My grandchildren liked to play with him, and would go to his rooms whenever they could. He would think up all sorts of practical jokes. For instance, when they wanted him to buy things for them, he would make them bark like dogs or make a thumping kowtow. Ah, that was fun. Two months ago, my second grandchild asked Mr. Wei to buy him a pair of shoes, and had to make three thumping kowtows. He's still wearing them; they aren't worn out yet."
When one of the men in white came out, she stopped talking. I asked about Wei's illness, but there was little she could tell me. She knew only that he had been losing weight for a long time, but they had thought nothing of it because he always looked so cheerful. About a month before, they heard he had been coughing blood, but it seemed he had not seen a doctor. Then he had to stay in bed, and three days before he died he seemed to have lost the power of speech. His cousin had come all the way from the village to ask him if he had any savings, but he said not a word. His cousin thought he was shamming, but some people say those dying of consumption do lose the power of speech. . . .
"But Mr. Wei was a queer man," she suddenly whispered. "He never saved money, always spent it like water. His cousin still suspects we got something out of him. Heaven knows, we got nothing. He just spent it in his haphazard way. Buying something today, selling it tomorrow, or breaking it up--God knows what happened. When he died there was nothing left, all spent! Otherwise it would not be so dismal today. . . .
"He just fooled about, not wanting to do the proper thing. At his age, he should have got married; I had thought of that, and spoken to him. It would have been easy for him then. And if no suitable family could be found, at least he could have bought a few concubines to go on with. People should keep up appearances. But he would laugh whenever I brought it up. 'Old bitch, you are always worrying about such things for other people,' he would say. He was never serious, you see; he wouldn't listen to good advice. If he had listened to me, he wouldn't be wandering lonely in the nether world now; at least his dear ones would be wailing. . . . ."
A shop assistant arrived, bringing some clothes with him. The three relatives of the dead picked out the underwear, then disappeared behind the curtain. Soon, the curtain was lifted; the new underwear had been put on the corpse, and they proceeded to put on his outer garments. I was surprised to see them dress him in a pair of khaki military trousers with broad red stripes, and a tunic with glittering epaulettes. I did not know what rank these indicated, or how he had acquired it. The body was placed in the coffin. Wei lay there awkwardly, a pair of brown leather shoes beside his feet, a paper sword at his waist, and beside his lean and ashen face a military cap with a gilt band.
The three relatives wailed beside the coffin, then stopped and wiped away their tears. The boy with hemp attached to his hair withdrew, as did the old woman's third grandchild--no doubt they were born under the wrong stars.
As the labourers lifted the coffin lid, I stepped forward to see Wei for the last time.
In his awkward costume he lay placidly, with closed mouth and eyes. There seemed to be an ironical smile on his lips, mocking the ridiculous corpse.
When they began to hammer in the nails, the wailing started afresh. I could not stand it very long, so I withdrew to the courtyard; then, somehow, I was out of the gate. The damp road glistened, and I looked up at the sky where the cloud banks had scattered and a full moon hung, shedding a cold light.
I walked with quickened steps, as if eager to break through some heavy barrier, but finding it impossible. Something struggled in my ears, and, after a long, long time, burst out. It was like a long howl, the howl of a wounded wolf crying in the wilderness in the depth of night, anger and sorrow mingled in its agony.
Then my heart felt lighter, and I paced calmly on under the moon along the damp cobbled road.
______
[Note: Yu Ta-fu] A contemporary of Lu Hsun's, who wrote ahout repressed young men.
[Note: Commentaries] By Ssuma Chen of the Tang dynasty (618-907).
[Note: white paper] White is the mourning colour in
October 17, 1925
孤独者
一
我和魏连殳相识一场，回想起来倒也别致，竟是以送殓始，以送殓终。
那时我在Ｓ城，就时时听到人们提起他的名字，都说他很有些古怪：所学的是动物学，却到中学堂去做历史教员；对人总是爱理不理的，却常喜欢管别人的闲事；常说家庭应该破坏，一领薪水却一定立即寄给他的祖母，一日也不拖延。此外还有许多零碎的话柄；总之，在Ｓ城里也算是一个给人当作谈助的人。有一年的秋天，我在寒石山的一个亲戚家里闲住；他们就姓魏，是连殳的本家。但他们却更不明白他，仿佛将他当作一个外国人看待，说是“同我们都异样的”。
这也不足为奇，中国的兴学虽说已经二十年了，寒石山却连小学也没有。全山村中，只有连殳是出外游学的学生，所以从村人看来，他确是一个异类；但也很妒羡，说他挣得许多钱。
到秋末，山村中痢疾流行了；我也自危，就想回到城中去。那时听说连殳的祖母就染了病，因为是老年，所以很沉重；山中又没有一个医生。所谓他的家属者，其实就只有一个这祖母，雇一名女工简单地过活；他幼小失了父母，就由这祖母抚养成人的。听说她先前也曾经吃过许多苦，现在可是安乐了。但因为他没有家小，家中究竟非常寂寞，这大概也就是大家所谓异样之一端罢。
寒石山离城是旱道一百里，水道七十里，专使人叫连殳去，往返至少就得四天。山村僻陋，这些事便算大家都要打听的大新闻，第二天便轰传她病势已经极重，专差也出发了；可是到四更天竟咽了气，最后的话，是：“为什么不肯给我会一会连殳的呢？……”
族长，近房，他的祖母的母家的亲丁，闲人，聚集了一屋子，豫计连殳的到来，应该已是入殓的时候了。寿材寿衣早已做成，都无须筹画；他们的第一大问题是在怎样对付这“承重孙”〔２〕，因为逆料他关于一切丧葬仪式，是一定要改变新花样的。聚议之后，大概商定了三大条件，要他必行。一是穿白，二是跪拜，三是请和尚道士做法事〔３〕。总而言之：是全都照旧。
他们既经议妥，便约定在连殳到家的那一天，一同聚在厅前，排成阵势，互相策应，并力作一回极严厉的谈判。村人们都咽着唾沫，新奇地听候消息；他们知道连殳是“吃洋教”的“新党”，向来就不讲什么道理，两面的争斗，大约总要开始的，或者还会酿成一种出人意外的奇观。
传说连殳的到家是下午，一进门，向他祖母的灵前只是弯了一弯腰。族长们便立刻照豫定计画进行，将他叫到大厅上，先说过一大篇冒头，然后引入本题，而且大家此唱彼和，七嘴八舌，使他得不到辩驳的机会。但终于话都说完了，沉默充满了全厅，人们全数悚然地紧看着他的嘴。只见连殳神色也不动，简单地回答道：
“都可以的。”
这又很出于他们的意外，大家的心的重担都放下了，但又似乎反加重，觉得太“异样”，倒很有些可虑似的。打听新闻的村人们也很失望，口口相传道，“奇怪！他说‘都可以’哩！我们看去罢！”都可以就是照旧，本来是无足观了，但他们也还要看，黄昏之后，便欣欣然聚满了一堂前。
我也是去看的一个，先送了一份香烛；待到走到他家，已见连殳在给死者穿衣服了。原来他是一个短小瘦削的人，长方脸，蓬松的头发和浓黑的须眉占了一脸的小半，只见两眼在黑气里发光。那穿衣也穿得真好，井井有条，仿佛是一个大殓的专家，使旁观者不觉叹服。寒石山老例，当这些时候，无论如何，母家的亲丁是总要挑剔的；他却只是默默地，遇见怎么挑剔便怎么改，神色也不动。站在我前面的一个花白头发的老太太，便发出羡慕感叹的声音。
其次是拜；其次是哭，凡女人们都念念有词。其次入棺；其次又是拜；又是哭，直到钉好了棺盖。沉静了一瞬间，大家忽而扰动了，很有惊异和不满的形势。我也不由的突然觉到：连殳就始终没有落过一滴泪，只坐在草荐上，两眼在黑气里闪闪地发光。
大殓便在这惊异和不满的空气里面完毕。大家都怏怏地，似乎想走散，但连殳却还坐在草荐上沉思。忽然，他流下泪来了，接着就失声，立刻又变成长嚎，像一匹受伤的狼，当深夜在旷野中嗥叫，惨伤里夹杂着愤怒和悲哀。这模样，是老例上所没有的，先前也未曾豫防到，大家都手足无措了，迟疑了一会，就有几个人上前去劝止他，愈去愈多，终于挤成一大堆。但他却只是兀坐着号啕，铁塔似的动也不动。
大家又只得无趣地散开；他哭着，哭着，约有半点钟，这才突然停了下来，也不向吊客招呼，径自往家里走。接着就有前去窥探的人来报告：他走进他祖母的房里，躺在床上，而且，似乎就睡熟了。
隔了两日，是我要动身回城的前一天，便听到村人都遭了魔似的发议论，说连殳要将所有的器具大半烧给他祖母，余下的便分赠生时侍奉，死时送终的女工，并且连房屋也要无期地借给她居住了。亲戚本家都说到舌敝唇焦，也终于阻当不住。
恐怕大半也还是因为好奇心，我归途中经过他家的门口，便又顺便去吊慰。他穿了毛边的白衣出见，神色也还是那样，冷冷的。我很劝慰了一番；他却除了唯唯诺诺之外，只回答了一句话，是：
“多谢你的好意。”
二
我们第三次相见就在这年的冬初，Ｓ城的一个书铺子里，大家同时点了一点头，总算是认识了。但使我们接近起来的，是在这年底我失了职业之后。从此，我便常常访问连殳去。一则，自然是因为无聊赖；二则，因为听人说，他倒很亲近失意的人的，虽然素性这么冷。但是世事升沉无定，失意人也不会我一投名片，他便接见了。两间连通的客厅，并无什么陈设，不过是桌椅之外，排列些书架，大家虽说他是一个可怕的“新党”，架上却不很有新书。他已经知道我失了职业；但套话一说就完，主客便只好默默地相对，逐渐沉闷起来。我只见他很快地吸完一枝烟，烟蒂要烧着手指了，才抛在地面上。
“吸烟罢。”他伸手取第二枝烟时，忽然说。
我便也取了一枝，吸着，讲些关于教书和书籍的，但也还觉得沉闷。我正想走时，门外一阵喧嚷和脚步声，四个男女孩子闯进来了。大的八九岁，小的四五岁，手脸和衣服都很脏，而且丑得可以。但是连殳的眼里却即刻发出欢喜的光来了，连忙站起，向客厅间壁的房里走，一面说道：
“大良，二良，都来！你们昨天要的口琴，我已经买来了。”
孩子们便跟着一齐拥进去，立刻又各人吹着一个口琴一拥而出，一出客厅门，不知怎的便打将起来。有一个哭了。
“一人一个，都一样的。不要争呵！”他还跟在后面嘱咐。
“这么多的一群孩子都是谁呢？”我问。
“是房主人的。他们都没有母亲，只有一个祖母。”
“房东只一个人么？”
“是的。他的妻子大概死了三四年了罢，没有续娶。——否则，便要不肯将余屋租给我似的单身人。”他说着，冷冷地微笑了。
我很想问他何以至今还是单身，但因为不很熟，终于不好开口。
只要和连殳一熟识，是很可以谈谈的。他议论非常多，而且往往颇奇警。使人不耐的倒是他的有些来客，大抵是读过《沉沦》〔４〕的罢，时常自命为“不幸的青年”或是“零余者”，螃蟹一般懒散而骄傲地堆在大椅子上，一面唉声叹气，一面皱着眉头吸烟。还有那房主的孩子们，总是互相争吵，打翻碗碟，硬讨点心，乱得人头昏。但连殳一见他们，却再不像平时那样的冷冷的了，看得比自己的性命还宝贵。听说有一回，三良发了红斑痧，竟急得他脸上的黑气愈见其黑了；不料那病是轻的，于是后来便被孩子们的祖母传作笑柄。
“孩子总是好的。他们全是天真……。”他似乎也觉得我有些不耐烦了，有一天特地乘机对我说。
“那也不尽然。”我只是随便回答他。
“不。大人的坏脾气，在孩子们是没有的。后来的坏，如你平日所攻击的坏，那是环境教坏的。原来却并不坏，天真……。我以为中国的可以希望，只在这一点。”
“不。如果孩子中没有坏根苗，大起来怎么会有坏花果？譬如一粒种子，正因为内中本含有枝叶花果的胚，长大时才能够发出这些东西来。何尝是无端……。”我因为闲着无事，便也如大人先生们一下野，就要吃素谈禅〔５〕一样，正在看佛经。佛理自然是并不懂得的，但竟也不自检点，一味任意地说。
然而连殳气忿了，只看了我一眼，不再开口。我也猜不出他是无话可说呢，还是不屑辩。但见他又显出许久不见的冷冷的态度来，默默地连吸了两枝烟；待到他再取第三枝时，我便只好逃走了。
这仇恨是历了三月之久才消释的。原因大概是一半因为忘却，一半则他自己竟也被“天真”的孩子所仇视了，于是觉得我对于孩子的冒渎的话倒也情有可原。但这不过是我的推测。其时是在我的寓里的酒后，他似乎微露悲哀模样，半仰着头道：
“想起来真觉得有些奇怪。我到你这里来时，街上看见一个很小的小孩，拿了一片芦叶指着我道：杀！他还不很能走路……。”
“这是环境教坏的。”
我即刻很后悔我的话。但他却似乎并不介意，只竭力地喝酒，其间又竭力地吸烟。
“我倒忘了，还没有问你，”我便用别的话来支梧，“你是不大访问人的，怎么今天有这兴致来走走呢？我们相识有一年多了，你到我这里来却还是第一回。”
“我正要告诉你呢：你这几天切莫到我寓里来看我了。我的寓里正有很讨厌的一大一小在那里，都不像人！”
“一大一小？这是谁呢？”我有些诧异。
“是我的堂兄和他的小儿子。哈哈，儿子正如老子一般。”
“是上城来看你，带便玩玩的罢？”
“不。说是来和我商量，就要将这孩子过继给我的。”
“呵！过继给你？”我不禁惊叫了，“你不是还没有娶亲么？”
“他们知道我不娶的了。但这都没有什么关系。他们其实是要过继给我那一间寒石山的破屋子。我此外一无所有，你是知道的；钱一到手就化完。只有这一间破屋子。他们父子的一生的事业是在逐出那一个借住着的老女工。”
他那词气的冷峭，实在又使我悚然。但我还慰解他说：
“我看你的本家也还不至于此。他们不过思想略旧一点罢了。譬如，你那年大哭的时候，他们就都热心地围着使劲来劝你……。”
“我父亲死去之后，因为夺我屋子，要我在笔据上画花押，我大哭着的时候，他们也是这样热心地围着使劲来劝我……。”他两眼向上凝视，仿佛要在空中寻出那时的情景来。
“总而言之：关键就全在你没有孩子。你究竟为什么老不结婚的呢？”我忽而寻到了转舵的话，也是久已想问的话，觉得这时是最好的机会了。
他诧异地看着我，过了一会，眼光便移到他自己的膝髁上去了，于是就吸烟，没有回答。
三
但是，虽在这一种百无聊赖的境地中，也还不给连殳安住。渐渐地，小报上有匿名人来攻击他，学界上也常有关于他的流言，可是这已经并非先前似的单是话柄，大概是于他有损的了。我知道这是他近来喜欢发表文章的结果，倒也并不介意。Ｓ城人最不愿意有人发些没有顾忌的议论，一有，一定要暗暗地来叮他，这是向来如此的，连殳自己也知道。但到春天，忽然听说他已被校长辞退了。这却使我觉得有些兀突；其实，这也是向来如此的，不过因为我希望着自己认识的人能够幸免，所以就以为兀突罢了，Ｓ城人倒并非这一回特别恶。
其时我正忙着自己的生计，一面又在接洽本年秋天到山阳去当教员的事，竟没有工夫去访问他。待到有些余暇的时候，离他被辞退那时大约快有三个月了，可是还没有发生访问连殳的意思。有一天，我路过大街，偶然在旧书摊前停留，却不禁使我觉到震悚，因为在那里陈列着的一部汲古阁初印本《史记索隐》〔６〕，正是连殳的书。他喜欢书，但不是藏书家，这种本子，在他是算作贵重的善本，非万不得已，不肯轻易变卖的。难道他失业刚才两三月，就一贫至此么？虽然他向来一有钱即随手散去，没有什么贮蓄。于是我便决意访问连殳去，顺便在街上买了一瓶烧酒，两包花生米，两个熏鱼头。
他的房门关闭着，叫了两声，不见答应。我疑心他睡着了，更加大声地叫，并且伸手拍着房门。
“出去了罢！”大良们的祖母，那三角眼的胖女人，从对面的窗口探出她花白的头来了，也大声说，不耐烦似的。
“那里去了呢？”我问。
“那里去了？谁知道呢？——他能到那里去呢，你等着就是，一会儿总会回来的。”
我便推开门走进他的客厅去。真是“一日不见，如隔三秋”〔７〕，满眼是凄凉和空空洞洞，不但器具所余无几了，连书籍也只剩了在Ｓ城决没有人会要的几本洋装书。屋中间的圆桌还在，先前曾经常常围绕着忧郁慷慨的青年，怀才不遇的奇士和腌脏吵闹的孩子们的，现在却见得很闲静，只在面上蒙着一层薄薄的灰尘。我就在桌上放了酒瓶和纸包，拖过一把椅子来，靠桌旁对着房门坐下。
的确不过是“一会儿”，房门一开，一个人悄悄地阴影似的进来了，正是连殳。也许是傍晚之故罢，看去仿佛比先前黑，但神情却还是那样。
“阿！你在这里？来得多久了？”他似乎有些喜欢。
“并没有多久。”我说，“你到那里去了？”
“并没有到那里去，不过随便走走。”
他也拖过椅子来，在桌旁坐下；我们便开始喝烧酒，一面谈些关于他的失业的事。但他却不愿意多谈这些；他以为这是意料中的事，也是自己时常遇到的事，无足怪，而且无可谈的。他照例只是一意喝烧酒，并且依然发些关于社会和历史的议论。不知怎地我此时看见空空的书架，也记起汲古阁初印本的《史记索隐》，忽而感到一种淡漠的孤寂和悲哀。
“你的客厅这么荒凉……。近来客人不多了么？”
“没有了。他们以为我心境不佳，来也无意味。心境不佳，实在是可以给人们不舒服的。冬天的公园，就没有人去……。”
他连喝两口酒，默默地想着，突然，仰起脸来看着我问道，“你在图谋的职业也还是毫无把握罢？……”
我虽然明知他已经有些酒意，但也不禁愤然，正想发话，只见他侧耳一听，便抓起一把花生米，出去了。门外是大良们笑嚷的声音。
但他一出去，孩子们的声音便寂然，而且似乎都走了。他还追上去，说些话，却不听得有回答。他也就阴影似的悄悄地回来，仍将一把花生米放在纸包里。
“连我的东西也不要吃了。”他低声，嘲笑似的说。
“连殳，”我很觉得悲凉，却强装着微笑，说，“我以为你太自寻苦恼了。你看得人间太坏……。”
他冷冷的笑了一笑。
“我的话还没有完哩。你对于我们，偶而来访问你的我们，也以为因为闲着无事，所以来你这里，将你当作消遣的资料的罢？”
“并不。但有时也这样想。或者寻些谈资。”
“那你可错误了。人们其实并不这样。你实在亲手造了独头茧〔８〕，将自己裹在里面了。你应该将世间看得光明些。”我叹惜着说。
“也许如此罢。但是，你说：那丝是怎么来的？——自然，世上也尽有这样的人，譬如，我的祖母就是。我虽然没有分得她的血液，却也许会继承她的运命。然而这也没有什么要紧，我早已豫先一起哭过了……。”
我即刻记起他祖母大殓时候的情景来，如在眼前一样。
“我总不解你那时的大哭……。”于是鹘突地问了。
“我的祖母入殓的时候罢？是的，你不解的。”他一面点灯，一面冷静地说，“你的和我交往，我想，还正因为那时的哭哩。你不知道，这祖母，是我父亲的继母；他的生母，他三岁时候就死去了。”他想着，默默地喝酒，吃完了一个熏鱼头。
“那些往事，我原是不知道的。只是我从小时候就觉得不可解。那时我的父亲还在，家景也还好，正月间一定要悬挂祖像，盛大地供养起来。看着这许多盛装的画像，在我那时似乎是不可多得的眼福。但那时，抱着我的一个女工总指了一幅像说：‘这是你自己的祖母。拜拜罢，保佑你生龙活虎似的大得快。’我真不懂得我明明有着一个祖母，怎么又会有什么‘自己的祖母’来。可是我爱这‘自己的祖母’，她不比家里的祖母一般老；她年青，好看，穿着描金的红衣服，戴着珠冠，和我母亲的像差不多。我看她时，她的眼睛也注视我，而且口角上渐渐增多了笑影：我知道她一定也是极其爱我的。
“然而我也爱那家里的，终日坐在窗下慢慢地做针线的祖母。虽然无论我怎样高兴地在她面前玩笑，叫她，也不能引她欢笑，常使我觉得冷冷地，和别人的祖母们有些不同。但我还爱她。可是到后来，我逐渐疏远她了；这也并非因为年纪大了，已经知道她不是我父亲的生母的缘故，倒是看久了终日终年的做针线，机器似的，自然免不了要发烦。但她却还是先前一样，做针线；管理我，也爱护我，虽然少见笑容，却也不加呵斥。直到我父亲去世，还是这样；后来呢，我们几乎全靠她做针线过活了，自然更这样，直到我进学堂……。”
灯火销沉下去了，煤油已经将涸，他便站起，从书架下摸出一个小小的洋铁壶来添煤油。
“只这一月里，煤油已经涨价两次了……。”他旋好了灯头，慢慢地说。“生活要日见其困难起来。——她后来还是这样，直到我毕业，有了事做，生活比先前安定些；恐怕还直到她生病，实在打熬不住了，只得躺下的时候罢……。
“她的晚年，据我想，是总算不很辛苦的，享寿也不小了，正无须我来下泪。况且哭的人不是多着么？连先前竭力欺凌她的人们也哭，至少是脸上很惨然。哈哈！……可是我那时不知怎地，将她的一生缩在眼前了，亲手造成孤独，又放在嘴里去咀嚼的人的一生。而且觉得这样的人还很多哩。这些人们，就使我要痛哭，但大半也还是因为我那时太过于感情用事……。
“你现在对于我的意见，就是我先前对于她的意见。然而我的那时的意见，其实也不对的。便是我自己，从略知世事起，就的确逐渐和她疏远起来了……。”
他沉默了，指间夹着烟卷，低了头，想着。灯火在微微地发抖。
“呵，人要使死后没有一个人为他哭，是不容易的事呵。”
他自言自语似的说；略略一停，便仰起脸来向我道，“想来你也无法可想。我也还得赶紧寻点事情做……。”
“你再没有可托的朋友了么？”我这时正是无法可想，连自己。
“那倒大概还有几个的，可是他们的境遇都和我差不多……。”
我辞别连殳出门的时候，圆月已经升在中天了，是极静的夜。
四
山阳的教育事业的状况很不佳。我到校两月，得不到一文薪水，只得连烟卷也节省起来。但是学校里的人们，虽是月薪十五六元的小职员，也没有一个不是乐天知命的，仗着逐渐打熬成功的铜筋铁骨，面黄肌瘦地从早办公一直到夜，其间看见名位较高的人物，还得恭恭敬敬地站起，实在都是不必“衣食足而知礼节”〔８〕的人民。我每看见这情状，不知怎的总记起连殳临别托付我的话来。他那时生计更其不堪了，窘相时时显露，看去似乎已没有往时的深沉，知道我就要动身，深夜来访，迟疑了许久，才吞吞吐吐地说道：
“不知道那边可有法子想？——便是钞写，一月二三十块钱的也可以的。我……。”
我很诧异了，还不料他竟肯这样的迁就，一时说不出话来。
“我……，我还得活几天……。”
“那边去看一看，一定竭力去设法罢。”
这是我当日一口承当的答话，后来常常自己听见，眼前也同时浮出连殳的相貌，而且吞吞吐吐地说道“我还得活几天”。到这些时，我便设法向各处推荐一番；但有什么效验呢，事少人多，结果是别人给我几句抱歉的话，我就给他几句抱歉的信。到一学期将完的时候，那情形就更加坏了起来。那地方的几个绅士所办的《学理周报》上，竟开始攻击我了，自然是决不指名的，但措辞很巧妙，使人一见就觉得我是在挑剔学潮〔１０〕，连推荐连殳的事，也算是呼朋引类。
我只好一动不动，除上课之外，便关起门来躲着，有时连烟卷的烟钻出窗隙去，也怕犯了挑剔学潮的嫌疑。连殳的事，自然更是无从说起了。这样地一直到深冬。
下了一天雪，到夜还没有止，屋外一切静极，静到要听出静的声音来。我在小小的灯火光中，闭目枯坐，如见雪花片片飘坠，来增补这一望无际的雪堆；故乡也准备过年了，人们忙得很；我自己还是一个儿童，在后园的平坦处和一伙小朋友塑雪罗汉。雪罗汉的眼睛是用两块小炭嵌出来的，颜色很黑，这一闪动，便变了连殳的眼睛。
“我还得活几天！”仍是这样的声音。
“为什么呢？”我无端地这样问，立刻连自己也觉得可笑了。
这可笑的问题使我清醒，坐直了身子，点起一枝烟卷来；推窗一望，雪果然下得更大了。听得有人叩门；不一会，一个人走进来，但是听熟的客寓杂役的脚步。他推开我的房门，交给我一封六寸多长的信，字迹很潦草，然而一瞥便认出“魏缄”两个字，是连殳寄来的。
这是从我离开Ｓ城以后他给我的第一封信。我知道他疏懒，本不以杳无消息为奇，但有时也颇怨他不给一点消息。待到接了这信，可又无端地觉得奇怪了，慌忙拆开来。里面也用了一样潦草的字体，写着这样的话：
“申飞……。
“我称你什么呢？我空着。你自己愿意称什么，你自己添上去罢。我都可以的。
“别后共得三信，没有复。这原因很简单：我连买邮票的钱也没有。
“你或者愿意知道些我的消息，现在简直告诉你罢：我失败了。先前，我自以为是失败者，现在知道那并不，现在才真是失败者了。先前，还有人愿意我活几天，我自己也还想活几天的时候，活不下去；现在，大可以无须了，然而要活下去……。
“然而就活下去么？
“愿意我活几天的，自己就活不下去。这人已被敌人诱杀了。谁杀的呢？谁也不知道。
“人生的变化多么迅速呵！这半年来，我几乎求乞了，实际，也可以算得已经求乞。然而我还有所为，我愿意为此求乞，为此冻馁，为此寂寞，为此辛苦。但灭亡是不愿意的。你看，有一个愿意我活几天的，那力量就这么大。然而现在是没有了，连这一个也没有了。同时，我自己也觉得不配活下去；别人呢？也不配的。同时，我自己又觉得偏要为不愿意我活下去的人们而活下去；好在愿意我好好地活下去的已经没有了，再没有谁痛心。使这样的人痛心，我是不愿意的。然而现在是没有了，连这一个也没有了。快活极了，舒服极了；我已经躬行我先前所憎恶，所反对的一切，拒斥我先前所崇仰，所主张的一切了。我已经真的失败，——然而我胜利了。
“你以为我发了疯么？你以为我成了英雄或伟人了么？不，不的。这事情很简单；我近来已经做了杜师长的顾问，每月的薪水就有现洋八十元了。
“申飞……。
“你将以我为什么东西呢，你自己定就是，我都可以的。
“你大约还记得我旧时的客厅罢，我们在城中初见和将别时候的客厅。现在我还用着这客厅。这里有新的宾客，新的馈赠，新的颂扬，新的钻营，新的磕头和打拱，新的打牌和猜拳，新的冷眼和恶心，新的失眠和吐血……。
“你前信说你教书很不如意。你愿意也做顾问么？可以告诉我，我给你办。其实是做门房也不妨，一样地有新的宾客和新的馈赠，新的颂扬……。
“我这里下大雪了。你那里怎样？现在已是深夜，吐了两口血，使我清醒起来。记得你竟从秋天以来陆续给了我三封信，这是怎样的可以惊异的事呵。我必须寄给你一点消息，你或者不至于倒抽一口冷气罢。
“此后，我大约不再写信的了，我这习惯是你早已知道的。何时回来呢？倘早，当能相见。——但我想，我们大概究竟不是一路的；那么，请你忘记我罢。我从我的真心感谢你先前常替我筹划生计。但是现在忘记我罢；我现在已经‘好’了。
连殳。
这虽然并不使我“倒抽一口冷气”，但草草一看之后，又细看了一遍，却总有些不舒服，而同时可又夹杂些快意和高兴；又想，他的生计总算已经不成问题，我的担子也可以放下了，虽然在我这一面始终不过是无法可想。忽而又想写一封信回答他，但又觉得没有话说，于是这意思也立即消失了。
我的确渐渐地在忘却他。在我的记忆中，他的面貌也不再时常出现。但得信之后不到十天，Ｓ城的学理七日报社忽然接续着邮寄他们的《学理七日报》来了。我是不大看这些东西的，不过既经寄到，也就随手翻翻。这却使我记起连殳来，因为里面常有关于他的诗文，如《雪夜谒
不知怎地虽然因此记起，但他的面貌却总是逐渐模胡；然而又似乎和我日加密切起来，往往无端感到一种连自己也莫明其妙的不安和极轻微的震颤。幸而到了秋季，这《学理七日报》就不寄来了；山阳的《学理周刊》上却又按期登起一篇长论文：《流言即事实论》。里面还说，
但我也终于敷衍不到暑假，五月底，便离开了山阳。
五
从山阳到历城，又到太谷，一总转了大半年，终于寻不出什么事情做，我便又决计回Ｓ城去了。到时是春初的下午，天气欲雨不雨，一切都罩在灰色中；旧寓里还有空房，仍然住下。在道上，就想起连殳的了，到后，便决定晚饭后去看他。我提着两包闻喜名产的煮饼，走了许多潮湿的路，让道给许多拦路高卧的狗，这才总算到了连殳的门前。里面仿佛特别明亮似的。我想，一做顾问，连寓里也格外光亮起来了，不觉在暗中一笑。但仰面一看，门旁却白白的，分明帖着一张斜角纸〔１２〕。我又想，大良们的祖母死了罢；同时也跨进门，一直向里面走。
微光所照的院子里，放着一具棺材，旁边站一个穿军衣的兵或是马弁，还有一个和他谈话的，看时却是大良的祖母；另外还闲站着几个短衣的粗人。我的心即刻跳起来了。她也转过脸来凝视我。
“阿呀！您回来了？何不早几天……。”她忽而大叫起来。
“谁……谁没有了？”我其实是已经大概知道的了，但还是问。
“魏大人，前天没有的。”
我四顾，客厅里暗沉沉的，大约只有一盏灯；正屋里却挂着白的孝帏，几个孩子聚在屋外，就是大良二良们。
“他停在那里，”大良的祖母走向前，指着说，“魏大人恭喜之后，我把正屋也租给他了；他现在就停在那里。”
孝帏上没有别的，前面是一张条桌，一张方桌；方桌上摆着十来碗饭菜。我刚跨进门，当面忽然现出两个穿白长衫的来拦住了，瞪了死鱼似的眼睛，从中发出惊疑的光来，钉住了我的脸。我慌忙说明我和连殳的关系，大良的祖母也来从旁证实，他们的手和眼光这才逐渐弛缓下去，默许我近前去鞠躬。
我一鞠躬，地下忽然有人呜呜的哭起来了，定神看时，一个十多岁的孩子伏在草荐上，也是白衣服，头发剪得很光的头上还络着一大绺苎麻丝〔１３〕。
我和他们寒暄后，知道一个是连殳的从堂兄弟，要算最亲的了；一个是远房侄子。我请求看一看故人，他们却竭力拦阻，说是“不敢当”的。然而终于被我说服了，将孝帏揭起。
这回我会见了死的连殳。但是奇怪！他虽然穿一套皱的短衫裤，大襟上还有血迹，脸上也瘦削得不堪，然而面目却还是先前那样的面目，宁静地闭着嘴，合着眼，睡着似的，几乎要使我伸手到他鼻子前面，去试探他可是其实还在呼吸着。
一切是死一般静，死的人和活的人。我退开了，他的从堂兄弟却又来周旋，说“舍弟”正在年富力强，前程无限的时候，竟遽尔“作古”了，这不但是“衰宗”不幸，也太使朋友伤心。言外颇有替连殳道歉之意；这样地能说，在山乡中人是少有的。但此后也就沉默了，一切是死一般静，死的人和活的人。
我觉得很无聊，怎样的悲哀倒没有，便退到院子里，和大良们的祖母闲谈起来。知道入殓的时候是临近了，只待寿衣送到；钉棺材钉时，“子午卯酉”四生肖是必须躲避的。她谈得高兴了，说话滔滔地泉流似的涌出，说到他的病状，说到他生时的情景，也带些关于他的批评。
“你可知道魏大人自从交运之后，人就和先前两样了，脸也抬高起来，气昂昂的。对人也不再先前那么迂。你知道，他先前不是像一个哑子，见我是叫老太太的么？后来就叫‘老家伙’。唉唉，真是有趣。人送他仙居术〔１４〕，他自己是不吃的，就摔在院子里，——就是这地方，——叫道，‘老家伙，你吃去罢。’他交运之后，人来人往，我把正屋也让给他住了，自己便搬在这厢房里。他也真是一走红运，就与众不同，我们就常常这样说笑。要是你早来一个月，还赶得上看这里的热闹，三日两头的猜拳行令，说的说，笑的笑，唱的唱，做诗的做诗，打牌的打牌……。
“他先前怕孩子们比孩子们见老子还怕，总是低声下气的。近来可也两样了，能说能闹，我们的大良们也很喜欢和他玩，一有空，便都到他的屋里去。他也用种种方法逗着玩；要他买东西，他就要孩子装一声狗叫，或者磕一个响头。哈哈，真是过得热闹。前两月二良要他买鞋，还磕了三个响头哩，哪，现在还穿着，没有破呢。”
一个穿白长衫的人出来了，她就住了口。我打听连殳的病症，她却不大清楚，只说大约是早已瘦了下去的罢，可是谁也没理会，因为他总是高高兴兴的。到一个多月前，这才听到他吐过几回血，但似乎也没有看医生；后来躺倒了；死去的前三天，就哑了喉咙，说不出一句话。十三大人从寒石山路远迢迢地上城来，问他可有存款，他一声也不响。十三大人疑心他装出来的，也有人说有些生痨病死的人是要说不出话来的，谁知道呢……。
“可是魏大人的脾气也太古怪，”她忽然低声说，“他就不肯积蓄一点，水似的化钱。十三大人还疑心我们得了什么好处。有什么屁好处呢？他就冤里冤枉胡里胡涂地化掉了。譬如买东西，今天买进，明天又卖出，弄破，真不知道是怎么一回事。待到死了下来，什么也没有，都糟掉了。要不然，今天也不至于这样地冷静……。
“他就是胡闹，不想办一点正经事。我是想到过的，也劝过他。这么年纪了，应该成家；照现在的样子，结一门亲很容易；如果没有门当户对的，先买几个姨太太也可以：人是总应该像个样子的。可是他一听到就笑起来，说道，‘老家伙，你还是总替别人惦记着这等事么？’你看，他近来就浮而不实，不把人的好话当好话听。要是早听了我的话，现在何至于独自冷清清地在阴间摸索，至少，也可以听到几声亲人的哭声……。”
一个店伙背了衣服来了。三个亲人便检出里衣，走进帏后去。不多久，孝帏揭起了，里衣已经换好，接着是加外衣。
这很出我意外。一条土黄的军裤穿上了，嵌着很宽的红条，其次穿上去的是军衣，金闪闪的肩章，也不知道是什么品级，那里来的品级。到入棺，是连殳很不妥帖地躺着，脚边放一双黄皮鞋，腰边放一柄纸糊的指挥刀，骨瘦如柴的灰黑的脸旁，是一顶金边的军帽。
三个亲人扶着棺沿哭了一场，止哭拭泪；头上络麻线的孩子退出去了，三良也避去，大约都是属“子午卯酉”之一的。
粗人打起棺盖来，我走近去最后看一看永别的连殳。
他在不妥帖的衣冠中，安静地躺着，合了眼，闭着嘴，口角间仿佛含着冰冷的微笑，冷笑着这可笑的死尸。
敲钉的声音一响，哭声也同时迸出来。这哭声使我不能听完，只好退到院子里；顺脚一走，不觉出了大门了。潮湿的路极其分明，仰看太空，浓云已经散去，挂着一轮圆月，散出冷静的光辉。
我快步走着，仿佛要从一种沉重的东西中冲出，但是不能够。耳朵中有什么挣扎着，久之，久之，终于挣扎出来了，隐约像是长嗥，像一匹受伤的狼，当深夜在旷野中嗥叫，惨伤里夹杂着愤怒和悲哀。
我的心地就轻松起来，坦然地在潮湿的石路上走，月光底下。
〔１〕本篇在收入本书前未在报刊上发表过。
〔２〕“承重孙”按封建宗法制度，长子先亡，由嫡长孙代替亡父充当祖父母丧礼的主持人，称承重孙。
〔３〕法事原指佛教徒念经、供佛一类活动。这里指和尚、道士超度亡魂的迷信仪式，也叫“做功德”。
〔４〕《沉沦》小说集，郁达夫著，内收中篇小说《沉沦》和短篇小说《南迁》、《银灰色的死》，一九二一年十月上海泰东图书局出版。这些作品以“不幸的青年”或“零余者”为主人公，反映当时一部分小资产阶级知识分子在帝国主义、封建势力压抑下的忧郁、苦闷和自暴自弃的病态心理，带有颓废的倾向。
〔５〕吃素谈禅谈禅，指谈论佛教教义。当时军阀官僚在失势后，往往发表下野“宣言”或“通电”，宣称出洋游历或隐居山林、吃斋念佛，从此不问国事等，实则窥测方向，伺机再起。
〔６〕《史记索隐》唐代司马贞注释《史记》的书，共三十卷。汲古阁，是明末藏书家毛晋的藏书室。《史记索隐》是毛晋重刻的宋版书之一。
〔７〕“一日不见，如隔三秋”语出《诗经·王风·采葛》：“一日不见，如三秋兮。”
〔８〕独头茧绍兴方言称孤独的人为独头。蚕吐丝作茧，将自己孤独地裹在里面，所以这里用“独头茧”比喻自甘孤独的人。
〔９〕“衣食足而知礼节”语出《管子·牧民》：“仓廪实则知礼节，衣食足则知荣辱。”
〔１０〕挑剔学潮一九二五年五月，作者和北京女子师范大学其他六位教授发表了支持该校学生反对反动的学校当局的宣言，陈西滢于同月《现代评论》第一卷第二十五期发表的《闲话》中，攻击作者等是“暗中挑剔风潮”。作者在这里借用此语，含有讽刺陈西滢文句不通的意味。
〔１１〕“且夫非常之人，必能行非常之事”语出《史记·司马相如列传》：“盖世必有非常之人，然后有非常之事。”
〔１２〕斜角纸我国旧时民间习俗，人死后在大门旁斜贴一张白纸，纸上写明死者的性别和年龄，入殓时需要避开的是哪些生肖的人，以及“殃”和“煞”的种类、日期，使别人知道避忌。（这就是所谓“殃榜”。据清代范寅《越谚》：煞神，“人首鸡身”，“人死必如期至，犯之辄死”。）
〔１３〕苎麻丝指“麻冠”（用苎麻编成）。旧时习俗，死者的儿子或承重孙在守灵和送殡时戴用，作为“重孝”的标志。
〔１４〕仙居术浙江省仙居县所产的药用植物白术。