a tale of two cities(双城记)-第12部分

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　in　a　stately　way；　tolerated　the　odd…job…man。　The　house　had　always　tolerated　some　person　in　that　capacity；　and　time　and　tide　had　drifted　this　person　to　the　post。　His　surname　was　Cruncher；　and　on　the　youthful　occasion　of　his　renouncing　by　proxy　the　works　of　darkness；　in　the　easterly　parish　church　of　Houndsditch；　he　had　received　the　added　appellation　of　Jerry。　
　The　scene　was　Mr。　Cruncher's　private　lodging　in　Hanging…sword…alley；　Whitefriars：　the　time；　half…past　seven　of　the　clock　on　a　windy　March　morning；　Anno　Domini　seventeen　hundred　and　eighty。　（Mr。　Cruncher　himself　always　spoke　of　the　year　of　our　Lord　as　Anna　Dominoes：　apparently　under　the　impression　that　the　Christian　era　dated　from　the　invention　of　a　popular　game；　by　a　lady　who　had　bestowed　her　name　upon　it。）　
　Mr。　Cruncher's　apartments　were　not　in　a　savoury　neighbourhood；　and　were　but　two　in　number；　even　if　a　closet　with　a　single　pane　of　glass　in　it　might　be　counted　as　one。　But　they　were　very　decently　kept。　Early　as　it　was；　on　the　windy　March　morning；　the　room　in　which　he　lay　a…bed　was　already　scrubbed　throughout；　and　between　the　cups　and　saucers　arranged　for　breakfast；　and　the　lumbering　deal　table；　a　very　clean　white　cloth　was　spread。　
　Mr。　Cruncher　reposed　under　a　patchwork　counterpane；　like　a　Harlequin　at　home。　At　first；　he　slept　heavily；　but；　by　degrees；　began　to　roll　and　surge　in　bed；　until　he　rose　above　the　surface；　with　his　spiky　hair　looking　as　if　it　must　tear　the　sheets　to　ribbons。　At　which　juncture；　he　exclaimed；　in　a　voice　of　dire　exasperation：　
　‘Bust　me；　if　she　ain't　at　it　agin！'　
　A　woman　of　orderly　and　industrious　appearance　rose　from　her　knees　in　a　corner；　with　sufficient　haste　and　trepidation　to　show　that　she　was　the　person　referred　to。　
　‘What！'　said　Mr。　Cruncher；　looking　out　of　bed　for　a　boot。　
　‘You're　at　it　agin；　are　you？　
　After　hailing　the　morn　with　this　second　salutation；　he　threw　a　boot　at　the　woman　as　a　third。　It　was　a　very　muddy　boot；　and　may　introduce　the　odd　circumstance　connected　with　Mr。　Cruncher's　domestic　economy；　that；　whereas　he　often　came　home　after　banking　hours　with　clean　boots；　he　often　got　up　next　morning　to　find　the　same　boots　covered　with　clay。　
　‘What；'　said　Mr。　Cruncher；　varying　his　apostrophe　after　missing　his　mark'what　are　you；　up　to；　Aggerawayter？'　
　‘I　was　only　saying　my　prayers。　
　‘Saying　your　prayers！　You're　a　nice　woman！　What　do　you　mean　by　flopping　yourself　down　and　praying　agin　me？'　
　‘I　was　not　praying　against　you；　I　was　praying　for　you。'　
　‘You　weren't。　And　if　you　were；　I　won't　be　took　the　liberty　with。　Here！　your　mother's　a　nice　woman；　young　Jerry；　going　a　praying　agin　your　father's　prosperity。　You've　got　a　dutiful　mother；　you　have；　my　son。　You've　got　a　religious　mother；　you　have；　my　boy：　going　and　flopping　herself　down；　and　praying　that　the　bread…and…butter　may　be　snatched　out　of　the　mouth　of　her　only　child。'　
　Master　cruncher　（who　was　in　his　shirt）　took　this　very　ill；　and；　turning　to　his　mother；　strongly　deprecated　any　praying　away　of　his　personal　board。　
　‘And　what　do　you　suppose；　you　conceited　female；'　said　Mr。　Cruncher；　with　unconscious　inconsistency；　‘that　the　worth　of　your　prayers　may　be？　Name　the　price　that　you　put　your　prayers　at！'　
　‘They　only　come　from　the　heart；　Jerry。　They　are　worth　no　more　than　that。'　
　‘Worth　no　more　than　that；'　repeated　Mr。　Cruncher。　‘They　ain't　worth　much；　then。　Whether　or　no；　I　won't　be　prayed　agin；　I　tell　you。　I　can't　afford　it。　I'm　not　a　going　to　be　made　unlucky　by　your　sneaking。　If　you　must　go　flopping　yourself　down；　flop　in　favour　of　your　husband　and　child；　and　not　in　opposition　to　'em。　If　I　had　had　any　but　a　unnat'ral　wife；　and　this　poor　boy　had　had　any　but　a　unnat'ral　mother；　I　might　have　made　some　money　last　week　instead　of　being　counter…prayed　and　countermined　and　religiously　circumwented　into　the　worst　of　luck。　B…u…u…ust　me　‘　said　Mr。　Cruncher；　who　all　this　time　had　been　putting　on　his　clothes；　‘if　I　ain't；　what　with　piety　and　one　blowed　thing　and　another；　been　choused　this　last　week　into　as　bad　luck　as　ever　a　poor　devil　of　a　honest　tradesman　met　with！　Young　Jerry；　dress　yourself；　my　boy；　and　while　I　clean　my　boots　keep　a　eye　upon　your　mother　now　and　then；　and　if　you　see　any　signs　of　more　flopping；　give　me　a　call。　For；　I　tell　you；'　here　he　addressed　his　wife　once　more；　‘I　won't　be　gone　agin；　in　this　manner。　I　am　as　rickety　as　a　hackneycoach；　I'm　as　sleepy　as　laudanum；　my　lines　is　strained　to　that　degree　that　I　shouldn't　know；　if　it　wasn't　for　the　pain　in　'em；　which　was　me　and　which　somebody　else；　yet　I'm　none　the　better　for　it　in　pocket；　and　it's　my　suspicion　that　you've　been　at　it　from　morning　to　night　to　prevent　me　from　being　the　better　for　it　in　pocket；　and　I　won't　put　up　with　it；　Aggerawayter；　and　what　do　you　say　now！'　
　Growling；　in　addition；　such　phrases　as　‘Ah！　yes！　You're　religious；　too。　You　wouldn't　put　yourself　in　opposition　to　the　interests　of　your　husband　and　child；　would　you？　Not　you！'　and　throwing　off　other　sarcastic　sparks　from　the　whirling　grindstone　of　his　indignation；　Mr。　Cruncher　betook　himself　to　his　boot…cleaning　and　his　general　preparation　for　business。　In　the　meantime；　his　son；　whose　head　was　garnished　with　tenderer　spikes；　and　whose　young　eyes　stood　close　by　one　another；　as　his　father's　did；　kept　the　required　watch　upon　his　mother。　He　greatly　disturbed　that　poor　woman　at　intervals；　by　darting　out　of　his　sleeping　closet；　where　he　made　his　toilet；　with　a　suppressed　cry　of　‘You　are　going　to　flop；　mother。Halloa；　father！'　and；　after　raising　this　fictitious　alarm；　darting　in　again　with　an　undutiful　grin。　
　Mr。　Cruncher's　temper　was　not　at　all　improved　when　he　came　to　his　breakfast。　He　resented　Mrs。　Cruncher's　saying　grace　with　particular　animosity。　
　‘Now；　Aggerawayter！　What　are　you　up　to？　At　it　agin？'　
　His　wife　explained　that　she　had　merely　‘asked　a　blessing。'　
　‘Don't　do　it！'　said　Mr。　Cruncher；　looking　about；　as　if　he　rather　expected　to　see　the　loaf　disappear　under　the　efficacy　of　his　wife's　petitions。　‘I　ain't　a　going　to　be　blest　out　of　house　and　home。　I　won't　have　my　wittles　blest　off　my　table。　Keep　still！'　
　Exceedingly　red…eyed　and　grim；　as　if　he　had　been　up　all　night　at　a　party　which　had　taken　anything　but　a　convivial　turn；　Jerry　Cruncher　worried　his　breakfast　rather　than　ate　it；　growling　over　it　like　any　four…footed　inmate　of　a　menagerie。　Towards　nine　o'clock　he　smoothed　his　ruffled　aspect；　and；　presenting　as　respectful　and　business…like　an　exterior　as　he　could　overlay　his　natural　self　with；　issued　forth　to　the　occupation　of　the　day。　
　It　could　scarcely　be　called　a　trade；　in　spite　of　his　favourite　description　of　himself　as　‘a　honest　tradesman。'　His　stock　consisted　of　a　wooden　stool；　made　out　of　a　broken…backed　chair　cut　down；　which　stool；　young　Jerry；　walking　at　his　father's　side；　carried　every　morning　to　beneath　the　banking…house　window　that　was　nearest　Temple　Bar：　where；　with　the　addition　of　the　first　handful　of　straw　that　could　be　gleaned　from　any　passing　vehicle　to　keep　the　cold　and　wet　from　the　odd…job…man's　feet；　it　formed　the　encampment　for　the　day。　On　this　post　of　his；　Mr。　Cruncher　was　as　well　known　to　Fleet…street　and　the　Temple；　as　the　Bar　itself；and　was　almost　as　ill…looking。　
　Encamped　at　a　quarter　before　nine；　in　good　time　to　touch　his　three…cornered　hat　to　the　oldest　of　men　as　they　passed　in　to　Tellson's；　Jerry　took　up　his　station　on　this　windy　March　morning；　with　young　Jerry　standing　by　him；　when　not　engaged　in　making　forays　through　the　Bar；　to　inflict　bodily　and　mental　injuries　of　an　acute　description　on　passing　boys　who　were　small　enough　for　his　amiable　purpose。　Father　and　son；　extremely　like　each　other；　looking　silently　on　at　the　morning　traffic　in　Fleet…street；　with　their　two　heads　as　near　to　one　another　as　the　two　eyes　of　each　were；　bore　a　considerable　resemblance　to　a　pair　of　monkeys。　The　resemblance　was　not　lessened　by　the　accidental　circumstance；　that　the　mature　Jerry　bit　and　spat　out　straw；　while　the　twinkling　eyes　of　the　youthful　Jerry　were　as　restlessly　watchful　of　him　as　of　everything　else　in　Fleet…street。　
　The　head　of　one　of　the　regular　indoor　messengers　attached　to　Tellson's　establishment　was　put　through　the　door；　and　the　word　was　given。　
　‘Porter　wanted！'　
　‘Hooray；　father！　Here's　an　early　job　to　begin　with！'　
　Having　thus　given　his　parent　God　speed；　young　Jerry　seated　himself　on　the　stool；　entered　on　his　reversionary　interest　in　the　straw　his　father　had　been　chewing；　and　cogitated。　
　‘Always　rusty！　His　fingers　is　al…ways　rusty！'　muttered　young　Jerry。　‘Where　does　my　father　get　all　that　iron　rust　from？　He　don't　get　no　iron　rust　here！'　

CHAPTER　II
A　Sight
‘YOU　know　the　Old　Bailey　well；　no　doubt？'　said　one　of　the　oldest　of　clerks　to　Jerry　the　messenger。　
　‘Ye…es；　sir；'　returned　Jerry；　in　something　of　a　dogged　manner。　‘I　do　know　the　Bailey。'　
　‘Just　so。　And　you　know　Mr。　Lorry。'　
　‘I　know　Mr。　Lorry；　sir；　much　better　than　I　know　the　Bailey。　Much　better；'　said　Jerry；　not　unlike　a　reluctant　witness　at　the　establishment　in　question；　‘than　I；　as　a　honest　tradesman；　wish　to　know　the　Bailey。'　
　‘Very　well。　Find　the　door　where　the　witnesses　go　in；　and　show　the　door…keeper　this　note　for　Mr。　Lorry。　He　will　then　let　you　in。'　
　‘Into　the　court；　sir？'　
　‘Into　the　court。'　
　Mr。　Cruncher's　eyes　seemed　to　ge