the professor at the breakfast table-第6部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


strident；　her　laugh　too　much　like　a　giggle；　and　she　has　that　foolish

way　of　dancing　and　bobbing　like　a　quill…float　with　a　〃minnum〃　biting

the　hook　below　it；　which　one　sees　and　weeps　over　sometimes　in　persons

of　more　pretensions。　　I　can't　help　hoping　we　shall　put　something　into

that　empty　chair　yet　which　will　add　the　missing　string　to　our　social

harp。　　I　hear　talk　of　a　rare　Miss　who　is　expected。　　Something　in　the

schoolgirl　way；　I　believe。　　We　shall　see。



My　friend　who　calls　himself　The　Autocrat　has　given　me　a　caution

which　I　am　going　to　repeat；　with　my　comment　upon　it；　for　the　benefit

of　all　concerned。



Professor；said　he；　one　day；don't　you　think　your　brain　will　run

dry　before　a　year's　out；　if　you　don't　get　the　pump　to　help　the　cow？

Let　me　tell　you　what　happened　to　me　once。　　I　put　a　little　money　into

a　bank；　and　bought　a　check…book；　so　that　I　might　draw　it　as　I　wanted；

in　sums　to　suit。　　Things　went　on　nicely　for　a　time；　scratching　with　a

pen　was　as　easy　as　rubbing　Aladdin's　Lamp；　and　my　blank　check…book

seemed　to　be　a　dictionary　of　possibilities；　in　which　I　could　find　all

the　synonymes　of　happiness；　and　realize　any　one　of　them　on　the　spot。

A　check　came　back　to　me　at　last　with　these　two　words　on　it；NO

FUNDS。　　My　check…book　was　a　volume　of　waste…paper。



Now；　Professor；said　he；I　have　drawn　something　out　of　your　bank；

you　know；　and　just　so　sure　as　you　keep　drawing　out　your　soul's

currency　without　making　new　deposits；　the　next　thing　will　be；　NO

FUNDS；and　then　where　will　you　be；　my　boy？　　These　little　bits　of

paper　mean　your　gold　and　your　silver　and　your　copper；　Professor；　and

you　will　certainly　break　up　and　go　to　pieces；　if　you　don't　hold　on　to

your　metallic　basis。



There　is　something　in　that；said　I。　Only　I　rather　think　life　can

coin　thought　somewhat　faster　than　I　can　count　it　off　in　words。　　What

if　one　shall　go　round　and　dry　up　with　soft　napkins　all　the　dew　that

falls　of　a　June　evening　on　the　leaves　of　his　garden？　　Shall　there　be

no　more　dew　on　those　leaves　thereafter？　　Marry；　yea；many　drops；

large　and　round　and　full　of　moonlight　as　those　thou　shalt　have

absterged！



Here　am　I；　the　Professor；a　man　who　has　lived　long　enough　to　have

plucked　the　flowers　of　life　and　come　to　the　berries；which　are　not

always　sad…colored；　but　sometimes　golden…hued　as　the　crocus　of　April；

or　rosy…cheeked　as　the　damask　of　June；　a　man　who　staggered　against

books　as　a　baby；　and　will　totter　against　them；　if　he　lives　to

decrepitude；　with　a　brain　full　of　tingling　thoughts；　such　as　they

are；　as　a　limb　which　we　call　〃asleep；〃　because　it　is　so　particuly

awake；　is　of　pricking　points；　presenting　a　key…board　of　nerve…pulps；

not　as　yet　tanned　or　ossified；　to　finger…touch　of　all　outward

agencies；　knowing　nothing　of　the　filmy　threads　of　this　web　of　life　in

which　we　insects　buzz　awhile；　waiting　for　the　gray　old　spider　to　come

along；　contented　enough　with　daily　realities；　but　twirling　on　his

finger　the　key　of　a　private　Bedlam　of　ideals；　in　knowledge　feeding

with　the　fox　oftener　than　with　the　stork；loving　better　the　breadth

of　a　fertilizing　inundation　than　the　depth　of　narrow　artesian　well；

finding　nothing　too　small　for　his　contemplation　in　the　markings　of

the　grammatophora　subtilissima；　and　nothing　too　large　in　the　movement

of　the　solar　system　towards　the　star　Lambda　of　the　constellation

Hercules；and　the　question　is；　whether　there　is　anything　left　for

me；　the　Professor；　to　suck　out　of　creation；　after　my　lively　friend

has　had　his　straw　in　the　bung…hole　of　the　Universe！



A　man's　mental　reactions　with　the　atmosphere　of　life　must　go　on；

whether　he　will　or　no；　as　between　his　blood　and　the　air　he　breathes。

As　to　catching　the　residuum　of　the　process；　or　what　we　call　thought；…

…the　gaseous　ashes　of　burned…out　thinking；the　excretion　of　mental

respiration；that　will　depend　on　many　things；　as；　on　having　a

favorable　intellectual　temperature　about　one；　and　a　fitting

receptacle。　I　sow　more　thought…seeds　in　twenty…four　hours'　travel

over　the　desert…sand　along　which　my　lonely　consciousness　paces　day

and　night；　than　I　shall　throw　into　soil　where　it　will　germinate；　in　a

year。　　All　sorts　of　bodily　and　mental　perturbations　come　between　us

and　the　due　projection　of　our　thought。　　The　pulse…like　〃fits　of　easy

and　difficult　transmission〃　seem　to　reach　even　the　transparent　medium

through　which　our　souls　are　seen。　　We　know　our　humanity　by　its　often

intercepted　rays；　as　we　tell　a　revolving　light　from　a　star　or　meteor

by　its　constantly　recurring　obscuration。



An　illustrious　scholar　once　told　me；　that；　in　the　first　lecture　he

ever　delivered；　he　spoke　but　half　his　allotted　time；　and　felt　as　if

he　had　told　all　he　knew。　　Braham　came　forward　once　to　sing　one　of　his

most　famous　and　familiar　songs；　and　for　his　life　could　not　recall　the

first　line　of　it；he　told　his　mishap　to　the　audience；　and　they

screamed　it　at　him　in　a　chorus　of　a　thousand　voices。　　Milton　could

not　write　to　suit　himself；　except　from　the　autumnal　to　the　vernal

equinox。　　One　in　the　clothing…business；　who；　there　is　reason　to

suspect；　may　have　inherited；　by　descent；　the　great　poet's　impressible

temperament；　let　a　customer　slip　through　his　fingers　one　day　without

fitting　him　with　a　new　garment。　　〃Ah！〃　said　he　to　a　friend　of　mine；

who　was　standing　by；　〃if　it　hadn't　been　for　that　confounded　headache

of　mine　this　morning；　I'd　have　had　a　coat　on　that　man；　in　spite　of

himself；　before　he　left…the　store。〃　　A　passing　throb；　only；but　it

deranged　the　nice　mechanism　required　to　persuade　the　accidental　human

being；　X；　into　a　given　piece　of　broadcloth；　A。



We　must　take　care　not　to　confound　this　frequent　difficulty　of

transmission　of　our　ideas　with　want　of　ideas。　　I　suppose　that　a　man's

mind　does　in　time　form　a　neutral　salt　with　the　elements　in　the

universe　for　which　it　has　special　elective　affinities。　　In　fact；　I

look　upon　a　library　as　a　kind　of　mental　chemist's　shop　filled　with

the　crystals　of　all　forms　and　hues　which　have　come　from　the　union　of

individual　thought　with　local　circumstances　or　universal　principles。



When　a　man　has　worked　out　his　special　affinities　in　this　way；　there

is　an　end　of　his　genius　as　a　real　solvent。　　No　more　effervescence　and

hissing　tumultas　he　pours　his　sharp　thought　on　the　world's　biting

alkaline　unbeliefs！　　No　more　corrosion　of　the　old　monumental　tablets

covered　with　lies！　　No　more　taking　up　of　dull　earths；　and　turning

them；　first　into　clear　solutions；　and　then　into　lustrous　prisms！



I；　the　Professor；　am　very　much　like　other　men：　I　shall　not　find　out

when　I　have　used　up　my　affinities。　　What　a　blessed　thing　it　is；　that

Nature；　when　she　invented；　manufactured；　and　patented　her　authors；

contrived　to　make　critics　out　of　the　chips　that　were　left！　　Painful

as　the　task　is；　they　never　fail　to　warn　the　author；　in　the　most

impressive　manner；　of　the　probabilities　of　failure　in　what　he　has

undertaken。　　Sad　as　the　necessity　is　to　their　delicate　sensibilities；

they　never　hesitate　to　advertise　him　of　the　decline　of　his　powers；

and　to　press　upon　him　the　propriety　of　retiring　before　he　sinks　into

imbecility。　　Trusting　to　their　kind　offices；　I　shall　endeavor　to

fulfil…



Bridget　enters　and　begins　clearing　the　table。



The　following　poem　is　my　（The　Professor's）　only　contribution　to　the

great　department　of　Ocean…Cable　literature。　　As　all　the　poets　of　this

country　will　be　engaged　for　the　next　six　weeks　in　writing　for　the

premium　offered　by　the　Crystal…Palace　Company　for　the　Burns

Centenary；　（so　called；　according　to　our　Benjamin　Franklin；　because

there　will　be　nary　a　cent　for　any　of　us；）　poetry　will　be　very　scarce

and　dear。　　Consumers　may；　consequently；　be　glad　to　take　the　present

article；　which；　by　the　aid　of　a　Latin　tutorand　a　Professor　of

Chemistry；　will　be　found　intelligible　to　the　educated　classes。









　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　DE　SAUTY



　　　　　　　　　AN　ELECTRO…CHEMICAL　ECLOGUE。



　　　　　　　　　Professor。　　　　　　　Blue…Nose。





PROFESSOR。



Tell　me；　O　Provincial！　　speak；　Ceruleo…Nasal！

Lives　there　one　De　Sauty　extant　now　among　yon；

Whispering　Boanerges；　son　of　silent　thunder；

Holding　talk　with　nations　？



Is　there　a　De　Sauty；　ambulant　on　Tellus；

Bifid…cleft　like　mortals；　dormient　in　night…cap；

Having　sight；　smell；　hearing；　food…receiving　feature

Three　times　daily　patent　？



Breathes　there　such　a　being；　O　Ceruleo…Nasal？

Or　is　he　a　mythus；ancient　word　for　〃humbug；〃

Such　as　Livy　told　about　the　wolf　that　wet…nursed

Romulus　and　Remus？



Was　he　born　of　woman；　this　alleged　De　Sauty？

Or　a　living　product　of　galvanic　action；

Like　the　status　bred　in　Crosses　flint…solution？

Speak；　thou　Cyano…Rhinal！







BLUE…NOSE。



Many　things　thou　askest；　jackknife…bearing　stranger；

Much…conjecturing　mortal；　pork…and…treacle…waster！

Pretermit　thy　whittling；　wheel　thine　ear…flap　toward　me；

Thou　shalt　hear　them　answered。



When　the　charge　galvanic　tingled　through　the　cable；

At　the　polar　focus　of　the　wi