雙語·閱讀文選

Pines松樹

The pine， placed nearly always among scenes disordered and desolater， brings into them all possible elements of order and precision. Lowlandtrees may lean to this side and a bank of cowslips from which their trunks lean aslope. But let storm and avalanche do their worst， and let the pine find only a ledge of vertical precipice to cling to， it will neverthelessgrow straight. Thrust a rod from its last shoot down the stem it shall point to the center of the earth as long as the tree lives. It may be well also for lowland branches to reach hither and thither for what they need，and to take all kinds of irregular shape and extension. But the pine is trained to need nothing and endure everything. It is resolvedly whole，self-contained， desiring nothing but rightness， content with restrictedcompletion. Tall or short， it will be straight.

松樹幾乎總是長在凌亂荒涼的地方，但它卻把周圍的景色點綴得井井有條，蔚然可觀。低地上的樹木會東倒西歪，雖說使它們弓腰曲背的。不過是草地吹過的一陣陣微風，或者，它們的軀干歪在一邊，不過是由于一排野櫻草的影響。可是，盡管風暴和雪崩恣意摧殘，盡管松樹所能依附的只是陡壁上一塊凸出的巖石，它依然長得筆挺。從它初發的嫩枝旁延莖插一根筆直的桿子；只要這樹活著，桿子將一直指著地的中心。低地上的樹，可能為了獲得它們所需的東西，枝椏四下伸延，形成各種不規則的形狀，任意擴張。然而松樹卻飽經鍛煉，什么也不需要，什么都能忍受，它堅定完整，獨立成長；除了長得挺拔正直，別無所求；雖受限制而依然完美，它便感到滿足。不管是高是矮， 它總是長得筆直。

the turquoise necklace

Pete Richard was the loneliest man in town on the day Jean Grace opened the door of his shop. It抯 a small shop which had come down to him fromhis grandfather. The little front window was strewn with a disarray ofold-fashioned things: bracelets and lockets worn in days before the CivilWar， gold rings and silver boxes， images of jade and ivory， porcelainfigurines. On this winter's afternoon a child was standing there， herforehead against the glass， earnest and enormous eyes studying eachtreasure as if she were looking for something quite special. Finally shestraightened up with a satisfied air and entered the store.

The shadowy interior of Pete Richard's establishment was even more cluttered than his show window. Shelves were stacked with jewel caskets，dueling pistols， clocks and lamps， and the floor was heaped with irons，mandolins and things hard to find a name for. Behind the counter stoodPete himself， a man not more than thirty but with hair already turninggray. There was bleak air about him as he looked at the small customer whoflattened her ungloved hands on the counter. “Mister，”she began， “Would you please let me look at the string of bluebeads in the windows?Pete parted the draperies and lifted out a necklace.The turquoise stones gleamed brightly against the pallor of his palm as he spread the ornament before her. “They're just perfect， ”said the child，entirely to herself “Will you wrap them up pretty for me， please?” Pete studied her with a stony air. “Are you buying these for someone?” “They're for my big sister. She takes care of me. You see， this will bethe first Christmas since Mother died. I've been looking for the mostwonderful Christmas present for my sister.? “How much money do you have?”asked Pete warily. She had been busily untying the knots in a handkerchief and now she poured out a handful ofpennies on the counter. “I emptied my bank.”she explained simply.

Pete looked at her thoughtfully. Then he carefully drew back the necklace. The price tag was visible to him but not to her. How could he tell her?The trusting look of her blue eyes smote him like the pain of an oldwound. “Just a minute，”he said， and turned toward the back of the store.

Over his shoulder he called， “What's your name?”He was very busy aboutsomething. “Jean Grace.”When Pete returned to where Jean Grace waited， a package lay in his hand，wrapped in scarlet paper and tied with a bow of green. “There you are，?he said shortly. “Don't lose it on the way home.” She smiled happily over her shoulder as she ran out the door. Through the window he watched her go， while desolation flooded his thoughts somethingabout Jean Grace and her string of beads had stirred him to the depths ofa grief that would not stay buried. The child's hair was wheat yellow， her eyes sea blue， and once upon a time， not long before， Pete had been inlove with a girl with hair of that same yellow and with eyes just as blue.

And the turquoise necklace was to have been hers.

But there had come a rainy night- truck skidding on a slippery road-andthe life was crushed out of his dream. Since then， Pete had lived too muchwith his grief in solitude. He was politely attentive to customers， butafter hours his world seemed irrevocably empty. He was trying to forget ina self pitying haze that deepened day by day. The blue eyes of Jean Grace jolted him into acute remembrance of what he had lost. The pain of it made him recoil from the exuberance of holiday shoppers. During the next tendays trade was brisk; chattering women swarmed in， fingering trinkets， trying to bargain. When the last customer had gone， late on Christmas Eve，he sighed with relief It was over for another year. But for Pete the nightwas not quite over.

The door opened and a young woman hurried in. With an inexplicable start，he realized that she looked familiar yet he could not remember when or

where he had seen her before. Her hair was golden yellow and her largeeyes were blue. Without speaking， she drew， from her purse a packageloosely unwrapped in its red paper， a bow of green ribbon with it.

Presently the string of blue beads lay gleaming again before him.

“Did this come from your shop?”she asked.

Pete raised his eyes to hers and answered softly， “Yes， it did.”“Are the stones real?”“Yes. Not the finest quality ?but real.”“Can you remember who it was you sold them to?”“She was a small girl. Her name was Jean. She bought them for her older sister's Christmas present.?”“How much are they worth?”“The price，”he told her solemnly， ”is always a confidential matter between the seller and the customer.

“But Jean has never had more than a few pennies of spending money. How could she pay for them?”She paid the biggest price anyone can ever pay，”he said. “She gave all she had.?There was a silence then that filled the little curio shop. He saw the faraway steeple， a bell began ringing. The sound of the distant chiming，the little package lying on the counter， the question in the eyes of the girl， and the strange feeling of renewal struggling unreasonably in the heart of Pete， all had come to be because of the love of a child.

“But why did you do it?”He held out the gift in his hand.“It's already Christmas morning，”he said. “And it's my misfortune that Ihave no one to give anything to. Will you let me see your home and wishyou a Merry Christmas at your door??And so， to the sound of many bells and in the midst of happy people， Pete Richard and a girl whose name he had yet to hear walked out into the beginning of the great day that brings hope into the world for us all.

藍寶石項鏈

在珍·格雷斯開門進他店里的那一天，皮特·理查德是鎮上最孤獨的人。他的店很小，是祖父傳給他的。店子的小櫥窗里雜亂無章地擺滿了各種古玩：內戰前人們戴的手鐲、掛在項鏈上的小盒、金戒指、銀盒子、玉石和象牙制品、小瓷像等。在這個冬天的下午，一個孩子站在那兒，額頭貼在櫥窗玻璃上，急切的大眼睛審視著每一件寶物，似乎在尋找一樣很特別的東西。最后她帶著滿意的神情挺直了身子，走進店里。

皮特·理查德店內很陰暗，且比櫥窗更凌亂不堪。架子上塞滿了首飾盒、決斗手槍、鐘和燈；地上堆滿了熨斗、曼陀林和一些叫不出名字的東西。皮特就站在柜臺后面，他年紀不到30，而頭發卻已花白。當他看著這個小顧客把沒戴手套的雙手放在柜臺上時，皮特的神情有些黯然。

“先生，”她開口問道：“你能讓我看看你櫥窗里的那串藍寶石嗎？”皮特拉開幃帳，把項鏈拿了出來，攤在自己的手掌上給她看。藍綠色的寶石在他蒼白的手掌中熠熠發光。“它們太棒了。”小女孩說，完全是自言自語。“能麻煩你把它們給我包裝得漂亮點嗎？”

皮特面無表情地注視著她。“你想給誰買這些寶石？”“是給我大姐姐。她照顧我。你瞧，這是我媽媽去世后的第一個圣誕節。我一直在給我姐姐找一份最好的圣誕禮物。”

“你有多少錢？”皮特小心翼翼地問。她急忙把手帕上的結解開，將一把便士倒在柜臺上。“我把所有的錢都拿出來了。”她簡單地解釋說。

皮特若有所思地看著她。然后他把項鏈抽了回來。價格標簽對著他而不是對著小姑娘。他怎么能對她說呢？她那雙藍色的眼睛里的信任的目光仿佛觸動了一個隱隱作痛的老傷口。“稍等一下，”他說著話，轉身朝儲藏室后面走去。“你叫什么名字？”皮特邊匆匆地干著什么，邊回頭問道。“珍·格雷斯。”

當皮特回到珍等候著的柜臺前時，他手里拿著一個小盒子，是用鮮紅的紙包起來的，上面還系著一根打成蝴蝶結的綠絲帶。“給你，”他簡短地說。“別在回家的路上弄丟了。”

她歡快地笑著，沖出店子。皮特從櫥窗中目送她離去，心中一片悲涼。珍·格雷斯身上的某些東西和她的那串珠子攪動了他心中無法掩藏的深深的悲傷。那女孩的頭發是小麥般的淡黃色，眼睛是海一樣的藍。彼得曾一度愛上一個有著和這女孩一樣的黃色頭發和藍色眼睛的姑娘。而那藍寶石的項鏈本該屬于她。

然而在一個雨夜——一輛卡車在路上打滑了——那女孩的生命就從他的夢中被奪走了。從那以后，皮特形影相吊，萬分悲痛。他對顧客周到而有禮貌，但是打烊以后，他的世界就總是顯得一片空白。他在一天濃似一天的自哀自憐的迷霧中努力忘卻痛苦。珍·格雷斯的藍眼睛讓他猛然而痛切地想起了他之所失。這痛苦使他在節日里興高采烈的顧客面前顯得有些畏縮。隨后10天里生意很紅火。嘰嘰喳喳的女士們蜂擁而來，撥弄著各種飾物，討價還價。圣誕節前夕的深夜，當最后一名顧客離去后，皮特舒了一口氣。又一年過去了，但對皮特來說，這一夜還沒結束。

門開了，一位年輕的女子匆匆而入。不知為什么，皮特一震，因為他覺得她很面熟，卻記不起他在何時何地見過她。她有著金黃的頭發和藍色的眼睛。一言不發地，她從錢夾子里抽出一個松散地用紅紙包的小盒子，上面還有一個用綠絲帶系的蝴蝶結。那串藍寶石珠立刻又在他的面前熠熠發光。

“這是從你店里買的嗎？”她問道。

皮特抬起頭看著她，輕輕地回答說：“是，是從我這兒買的。”

“這寶石是真的嗎？”

“是真的。這寶石雖不是最好的——但是真的。”

“你還記得你賣給誰了嗎？”

“賣給了一個小姑娘。她的名字叫珍。她是買給她姐姐作圣誕禮物的。”

“這寶石值多少錢？”

“至于價錢，”皮特嚴肅地告訴她：“一直是商家和顧客之間的秘密。”

“但珍從來都只有幾便士的零花錢。她怎么買得起這寶石呢？”

“她給的是所有人能給的最高價，”皮特說。“她把她所有的錢都拿出來了。”

接著這個小古董店變得一片寂靜。他看見遠處的教堂尖塔，鐘開始鳴響。遠處的鐘聲，柜臺上的小盒，姑娘眼中的疑問，皮特心中奇怪的生命復蘇感——這一切都是因為一個孩子的愛。

“可你為什么要這么做？”

皮特把禮物遞給她。

“已經是圣誕節的早晨了，”他說：“我不幸無人可送什么東西。你能讓我送你回家，在你家門口說一聲祝你圣誕快樂嗎？”

于是，在許多鐘鳴響之時，在幸福的人群中，皮特·里查德和一位尚不知姓名的姑娘跨入了那給世上每一個人帶來希望的偉大的一天的開端。