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发帖时间:2019-12-05 05:23:41

佛山帝加花园代课We found the carriages waiting outside Grey Friars鈥 Gate, and Philip Firmin, pushing me into his father鈥檚 , told the footman to drive home, and that the doctor would return in Lord Ascot鈥檚 carriage. Home then to Old Parr Street we went, where many a time as a boy I had been welcome. And we retired to Phil鈥檚 private den in the back buildings of the great house: and over our cigars we talked of the Founder鈥檚 -day Feast, and the speeches delivered; and of the old Cistercians of our time; and how Thompson was married, and Johnson was in the army; and Jackson (not red-haired Jackson, pig-eyed Jackson,) was first in his year, and so forth; and in this twaddle we were most happily engaged, when Phil鈥檚 father flung open the tall door of the study.

老师The wine of which Mr. Hunt freely partook on that occasion made him, as I have said, communicative. 鈥淣ot a bad fellow, our host,鈥 he remarked, on his part, when we came away together. 鈥淏umptious, goodlooking, speaks his mind, hates me, and I don鈥檛 care. He must be well to do in the world, Master Philip.鈥家教I said I hoped and thought so.

考编鈥淏rummell Firmin must make four or five thousand a year. He was a wild fellow in my time, I can tell you 鈥 in the days of the wild Prince and Poyns 鈥 stuck at nothing, spent his own money, ruined himself, fell on his legs somehow, and married a fortune. Some of us have not been so lucky. I had nobody to pay my debts. I missed my Fellowship by idling and dissipating with those confounded hats and silver-laced gowns. I liked good company in those days 鈥 always did when I could get it. If you were to write my adventures, now, you would have to tell some queer stories. I鈥檝e been everywhere; I鈥檝e seen high and low 鈥 鈥榮pecially low. I鈥檝e tried schoolmastering, bear-leading, newspapering, America, West Indies. I鈥檝e been in every city in Europe. I haven鈥檛 been as lucky as Brummell Firmin. He rolls in his coach, he does, and I walk in my highlows. Guineas drop into his palm every day, and are uncommonly scarce in mine, I can tell you; and poor old Tufton Hunt is not much better off at fifty odd than he was when he was an undergraduate at eighteen. How do you do, old gentleman? Air do you good? Here we are at Beaunash Street; hope you鈥檝e got the key, and missis won鈥檛 see you.鈥 A large butler, too well bred to express astonishment at any event which occurred out of doors, opened Mr. Twysden鈥檚 and let in that lamentable gentleman. He was very pale and solemn. He gasped out a few words, intimating his intention to fix a day to ask us to come and dine soon, and taste that wine that Winton liked so. He waved an unsteady hand to us. If Mrs. Twysden was on the stairs to see the condition of her lord, I hope she took possession of the candle. Hunt grumbled as we came out: 鈥淗e might have offered us some refreshment after bringing him all that way home. It鈥檚 only half-past one. There鈥檚 no good in going to bed so soon as that. Let us go and have a drink somewhere. I know a very good crib close by. No, you wont? I say鈥 (here he burst into a laugh which startled the sleeping street), 鈥淚 know what you鈥檝e been thinking all the time in the cab. You are a swell, 鈥 you are, too! You have been thinking, 鈥楾his dreary old parson will try and borrow money from me.鈥 But I won鈥檛, my boy. I鈥檝e got a banker. Look here! Fee, faw, fum. You understand. I can get the sovereigns out of my medical swell in Old Parr Street. I prescribe bleeding for him 鈥 I drew him to-night. He is a very kind fellow, Brummell Firmin is. He can鈥檛 deny such a dear old friend anything. Bless him!鈥 And as he turned away to some midnight haunt of his own, he tossed up his hand in the air. I heard him laughing through the silent street, and policeman X, tramping on his beat, turned round and suspiciously eyed him.代课Then I thought of Dr. Firmin鈥檚 dark, melancholy face and eyes. Was a benevolent remembrance of old times the bond of union between these men? All my house had long been asleep, when I opened and gently closed my house door. By the twinkling night-lamp I could dimly see child and mother softly breathing. Oh, blessed they on whose pillow no remorse sits! Happy you who have escaped temptation!老师I may have been encouraged in my suspicions of the dingy clergyman by Philip鈥檚 own surmises regarding him, which were expressed with the speaker鈥檚 usual candour. 鈥淭he fellow calls for what he likes at the Firmin Arms,鈥 said poor Phil; 鈥渁nd when my father鈥檚 bigwigs assemble, I hope the reverend gentleman dines with them. I should like to see him hobnobbing with old Bumpsher, or slapping the bishop on the back. He lives in Sligo Street, round the corner, so as to be close to our house and yet preserve his own elegant independence. Otherwise, I wonder he has not installed himself in Old Parr Street, where my poor mother鈥檚 bedroom is vacant. The doctor does not care to use that room. I remember now how silent they were when together, and how terrified she always seemed before him. What has he done? I know of one affair in his early life. Does this Hunt know of any more. They have been accomplices in some conspiracy, sir; I daresay with that young Cinqbars, of whom Hunt is for ever bragging: the worthy son of the worthy Ringwood. I say, does wickedness run in the blood? My grandfathers, I have heard, were honest men. Perhaps they were only not found out; and the family taint will show in me some day. There are times when I feel the devil so strong within me, that I think some day he must have the mastery. I鈥檓 not quite bad yet: but I tremble lest I should go. Suppose I were to drown, and go down? It鈥檚 not a jolly thing, Pendennis, to have such a father as mine. Don鈥檛 humbug me with your charitable palliations and soothing surmises. You put me in mind of the world then, by Jove, you do! I laugh, and I drink, and I make merry, and sing, and smoke endless tobacco; and I tell you I always feel as if a little sword was dangling over my skull which will fall some day and split it. Old Parr Street is mined, sir, 鈥 mined! And some morning we shall be blown into blazes 鈥 into blazes, sir; mark my words! That鈥檚 why I鈥檓 so careless and so idle, for which you fellows are always bothering and scolding me. There鈥檚 no use in settling down until the explosion is over, don鈥檛 you see? Incedo per ignes suppositos, and, by George! sir, I feel my bootsoles already scorching. Poor thing! poor mother鈥 (he apostrophized his mother鈥檚 picture which hung in the room where we were talking,)鈥渨ere you aware of the secret, and was it the knowledge of that which made your poor eyes always look so frightened! She was always fond of you, Pen. Do you remember how pretty and graceful she used to look as she lay on her sofa upstairs, or smiled out of her carriage as she kissed her hand to us boys? I say, what if a woman marries, and is coaxed and wheedled by a soft tongue, and runs off, and afterwards finds her husband has a cloven foot?鈥

家教鈥淎h, Philip!鈥考编鈥淲hat is to be the lot of the son of such a man? Is my hoof cloven, too?鈥 It was on the stove, as he talked, extended in American fashion. 鈥淪uppose there鈥檚 no escape for me, and I inherit my doom, as another man does gout or consumption? Knowing this fate, what is the use, then, of doing anything in particular? I tell you, sir, the whole edifice of our present life will crumble in and smash.鈥 (Here he flings his pipe to the ground with an awful shatter.) 鈥淎nd until the catastrophe comes, what on earth is the use of setting to work, as you call it? You might as well have told a fellow, at Pompeii, to select a profession the day before the eruption.鈥

代课鈥淚f you know that Vesuvius is going to burst over Pompeii,鈥 I said, somewhat alarmed, 鈥渨hy not go to Naples, or farther, if you will?鈥

老师鈥淲ere there not men in the sentry-boxes at the city gates,鈥 asked Philip, 鈥渨ho might have run, and yet remained to be burned there? Suppose, after all, the doom isn鈥檛 hanging over us, 鈥 and the fear of it is only a nervous terror of mine? Suppose it comes, and I survive it? The risk of the game gives a zest to it, old boy. Besides, there is Honour: and some One Else is in the case, from whom a man could not part in an hour of danger.鈥 And here he blushed a fine red, heaved a great sigh, and emptied a bumper of claret.家教鈥淏y the housekeeper, do you mean Mrs. Baynes?鈥 I ask, in my amontillado manner. (By the way, who ever heard of amontillado in the early days of which I write?) 鈥淚n manner she would do, and I daresay in accomplishments; but I doubt her temper.鈥

考编鈥淵ou鈥檙e almost as wordly as the Twysdens, by George, you are! Unless persons are of a certain monde, you don鈥檛 value them. A little adversity would do you good, Pen; and I heartily wish you might get it, except for the dear wife and children. You measure your morality by May Fair standards; and if an angel unawares came to you in pattens and a cotton umbrella, you would turn away from her. You would never have found out the Little Sister. A duchess 鈥 God bless her! A creature of an imperial generosity, and delicacy, and intrepidity, and the finest sense of humour, but she drops her h鈥檚 often, and how could you pardon such a crime? Sir, you are my better in wit and a dexterous application of your powers; but I think, sir,鈥 says Phil, curling the flaming mustachios, 鈥淚 am your superior in a certain magnanimity; though, by Jove! old fellow, man and boy, you have always been one of the best fellows in the world to P. F.; one of the best fellows, and the most generous, and the most cordial, 鈥 that you have: only you do rile me when you sing in that confounded May Fair twang.鈥代课Here one of the children summoned us to tea 鈥 and 鈥淧apa was laughing, and uncle Philip was flinging his hands about and pulling his beard off,鈥 said the little messenger.

老师鈥淚 shall keep a fine lock of it for you, Nelly, my dear,鈥 says uncle Philip. On which the child said, 鈥淥h, no! I know to whom you鈥檒l give it, don鈥檛 I, mamma?鈥 and she goes up to her mamma, and whispers.家教Miss Nelly knows? At what age do those little match-makers begin to know, and how soon do they practise the use of their young eyes, their little smiles, wiles, and ogles? This young woman, I believe, coquetted whilst she was yet a baby in arms, over her nurse鈥檚 shoulder. Before she could speak, she could be pround of her new vermilion shoes, and would point out the charms of her blue sash. She was jealous in the nursery, and her little heart had beat for years and years before she left off pinafores.

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