幸福的家庭中英文

    
Lu Xun (Lu Hsun)
A Happy Family
After the style of Hsu Chin-wen1--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Written: March 18, 1924
Source: Selected Stories of Lu Hsun, Published by Foreign Languages Press, Peking, 1960, 1972
Transcribed: Original transcription from coldbacon.com
HTML Markup: Mike B. for MIA, 2006
Public Domain: Marxists Internet Archive (2006). You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit “Marxists Internet Archive” as your source.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------". . . 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."Peking?" he thought. "That won‘t do; it‘s too dead, even the atmosphere is dead. Even if a high wall were built round this family, still the air could scarcely be kept separate. No, that would never do! Kiangsu and Chekiang may start fighting any day, and Fukien is even more out of the question. Szechuan? Kwangtung? They are in the midst of fighting.2 What about Shantung or Honan? . . . No, one of them might be kidnapped, and if that happened the happy family would become an unhappy one. The rents in the foreign concessions in Shanghai and Tientsin are too high. . . . Somewhere abroad? Ridiculous. I don‘t know what Yunnan and Kweichow are like, but communications are too poor. . . ."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 Hunan too; the rents in Dairen have gone up again. In Chahar, Kirin and Heilungkiang I have heard there are brigands, so they won‘t do either! . . ."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 elite . . . . 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 elite, 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, Kiangsu people aren‘t supposed to eat snakes or cats, so it must be made, as someone else said, of frogs and eels. Now what part of the country shall this couple he from? Never mind. After all, people from any part of the country can eat a dish of snake and car (or frog and eel), without injuring their Happy Family. At any rate, this first dish is to be ‘Dragon and Tiger‘; there can be no question about that."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:"‘Cherie, s‘il vous plait!‘"‘Voulez-vous commencer, cheri!‘"‘Mais non, apres 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 China would do just as well. They are both university graduates, the cultured elite, the elite . . . . The man is a writer; the woman is also a writer, or else a lover of literature. Or else the woman is a poetess; the man is a lover of poetry, a respecter of womanhood. Or else..."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."3". . . 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, cherie, 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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Notes
1. A novelist contemporary with Lu Hsun The author declared that he modelled this story on Hsu‘s An Ideal Companion.2. During this period there was civil war between warlords in many parts of China.3. A Confucian classic, advocating the principle of moderation in all things.
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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，但既然连大学教授也那么称赞他，想来他们也一定都爱看，你也看，我也看，——他们一人一本，这家庭里一共有两本，……”他觉得胃里有点空虚了，放下笔，用两只手支着头，教自己的头像地球仪似的在两个柱子间挂着。
　　
　　“……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〕本篇最初发表于一九二四年三月一日上海《妇女杂志》月刊第十卷第三号。
　　
　　本文发表时篇末有作者的《附记》如下：“我于去年在《晨报副刊》上看见许钦文君的《理想的伴侣》的时候，就忽而想到这一篇的大意，且以为倘用了他的笔法来写，倒是很合式的；然而也不过单是这样想。到昨天，又忽而想起来，又适值没有别的事，于是就这样的写下来了。只是到末后，又似乎渐渐的出了轨，因为过于沉闷些。我觉得他的作品的收束，大抵是不至于如此沉闷的。但就大体而言，也仍然不能说不是“拟”。二月十八日灯下，在北京记。”
　　
　　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，载于同年九月九日北京《晨报副刊》。
　　
　　〔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。八月二十六日该刊所载郑兆松的《罗马字母问题的小小结束》认为：“小说里羼用些罗马字母，不认识罗马文字的大多数民众看来，就会产生出一种厌恶的情感，至少，也足以减少它们的普遍性。”
　　
　　〔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。”