现代大学英语精读第一册 Unit14

音频下载[点击右键另存为]

Lesson Fourteen

TEXT A

After Twenty Years O. Henry

Pre-class Work I

Read the text once for the main idea. Do not refer to the notes, dictionaries or the glossary yet.

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was normal and not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely ten o'clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had almost emptied the streets.
Trying doors as he went, swinging his club with many clever movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye down the peaceful street, the officer, with his strongly built form and slight air of superiority, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The area was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter; but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.
When about midway of a certain block, the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him, the man spoke up quickly.
"It's all right, officer," he said, confidently. "I'm just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands — 'Big Joe' Brady's restaurant."
"Until five years ago," said the policeman. "It was torn down then."
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His tiepin was a large diamond, oddly set.
"Twenty years ago tonight," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy Wells, my best friend, and the finest man in the world. He and I were brought up here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our fate worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."
"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meetings, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"
"Well, yes, for a time we wrote," said the other. " But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big place, and I kept running around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, best old friend in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.
"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."
"Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman.
"You're right! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of slow man, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest brains going to get my money. A man gets stuck in New York. It takes the West to make a man really keen."
The policeman swung his club and took a step or two.
"I'll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Are you going to leave immediately?"
"I should say not!" said the other. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth he'll be here by that time. So long, officer."
"Good night, sir," said the policeman, passing on along his beat.
There was now a fine, cold rain falling, and the wind had risen to a steady blow. The few foot passengers in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment, with the friend of his youth, smoked his cigar and waited.
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.
"Is that you, Bob?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" cried the man in the door.
"Bless my heart! "exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well! — twenty years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Bob; I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has the West treated you, old man?"
"It has given me everything I asked it for. You've changed lot, Jimmy. I never thought you would get so tall."
"Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty."
"Doing well in New York, Jimmy?"
"Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob; we'll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."
The two men started up the street, arm in arm. The man from the West, full of pride at his success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, hidden in his overcoat, listened with interest.
At the corner stood a chemist's, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this brightness each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he said sharply. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change the size of a man's nose."
"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one," said the tall man. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob. Chicago thinks you may have come over our way and telegraphs us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before we go on to the station here's a note I was asked to hand to you. You may read it here at the window. It's from Policeman Wells."
The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed to him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was short.
Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar, I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job.

Read the text a second time. Learn the new words and expressions listed below.

Glossary

avenue
n. a wide street

barely
adv. only just; no more than; hardly; almost

brilliant
adj. very bright 光亮夺目的

cast
v. to throw; to ～ an eye: to look at

chat
n. an informal and friendly conversation

chemist
n. (BrE) a person who works in a drugstore and is trained to prepare drugs and medicines 药店里的药剂师；a ～ 's: 药店

club
n. a heavy thick stick, used to hit people or things with 棍棒

compete
v. 竞争；对抗

confident
adj. feeling certain 有信心的

darken
v. to make or become dark

dine
v. to eat dinner

doorway
n. 门口

doubtful
adj. having doubts about sth. ; feeling unsure

empty
v. to make empty

exclaim
v. to speak or say suddenly and loudly because you are surprised, angry or excited

eyebrow
n. the line of hair above your eye 眉毛

guardian
n. a person who guards 保护人；卫士

gust
n. a ～ of wind: a sudden, strong movement of wind 一阵狂风

hardware
n. 这里指五金制品（如锅、钉、锁等）

impressively
adv. in a way that gives a deep impression 给人印象深刻地

lid
n. a cover for the open part of a box, pot or other container 盖子

majority
n. most of the people or things in a particular group 多数

midway
n. half way between two places

moderately
adv. fairly but not very

oddly
adv. in a strange way

outline
v. to describe sth. in a general way without giving all the details 略述……要点

part
v. to leave each other; to separate 分手

partner
n. (used in informal AmE)a male friend

pocket
v. to put sth. into a pocket

release
v. to stop holding sth.

scar
n. a mark left on the skin after you have had a cut or wound 伤疤

sharply
adv. in a severe and disapproving way 厉声地

simultaneous
adj. happening or done at exactly the same time 同时发生的

spectator
n. an onlooker 旁观者

square-jawed
adj. 宽下巴的

telegraph
v. 打电报

steady
adj. 平稳的；不颤抖的

superiority
n. an attitude that shows you are better than others 优越感；自信

tiepin
n. 领带别针

track
n. to lose ～ : fail to keep contact with sb. 失去联系；断了线索

tremble
v. to shake slightly with fear that one can not control 震颤

unfold
v. to open (the piece of paper) so that it becomes flat

watchful
adj. careful to notice what is happening 警觉的

TEXT B

A Man Who Had No Eyes MacKinlay Kantor

A beggar was coming down the avenue just as Mr. Parsons emerged from his hotel.
He was a blind beggar, carrying the traditional odd stick cane, and thumping his way before him with the cautious, half-furtive effort of the sightless. He was an untidy, thick-necked fellow with long hair; his coat was greasy about the pockets, and his hand rested over the stick with a futile sort of clinging. He wore a small bag slung over his shoulder. Apparently he had something to sell.
The air was rich with spring; the sun was warm and yellowed on the asphalt. Mr. Parsons, standing there in front of his hotel and noting the clack-clack approach of the sightless man, felt a sudden and foolish sort of pity for all blind creatures.
And, thought Mr. Parsons, he was very glad to be alive. A few years ago he had been little more than a skilled laborer; now he was successful, respected, admired ... Insurance ... And he had done it alone, unaided, struggling beneath handicaps ... And he was still young. The blue air of spring, fresh from its memories of windy pools and beautiful trees, could excite him with eagerness.
He took a step forward just as the tap-tapping blind man passed him by. Quickly the shabby fellow turned.
"Listen, guv'nor. Just a minute of your time."
Mr. Parsons said, "It's late. I have an appointment. Do you want me to give you something?"
"I ain't no beggar, guv'nor. You bet I ain't. I got a handy little article here"—he fumbled until he could press a small object into Mr. Parsons' hand— "that I sell. One buck. Best cigarette lighter made."
Mr. Parsons stood there, somewhat annoyed and embarrassed. He was a handsome figure with his neat gray suit and gray hat and expensive stick. Of course the man with the cigarette lighters could not see him... "But I don't smoke," he said.
"Listen. I bet you know plenty of people who smoke. It would be a nice little present," said the man. "And, mister, you wouldn't mind helping a poor guy out?" He clung to Mr. Parsons' sleeve.
Mr. Parsons sighed and felt in his vest pocket. He brought out two half dollars and pressed them into the man's hand. "Certainly. I'll help you out. As you say, I can give it to someone. Maybe the elevator boy would—" He hesitated, not wishing to be rude and inquisitive, even with a blind peddler. "Have you lost your sight entirely?"
The shabby man pocketed the two half dollars. "Fourteen years, guv'nor." Then he added with an insane sort of pride: "Westbury, sir. I was one of 'em."
"Westbury," repeated Mr. Parsons. "AR, yes. The chemical explosion ... The papers haven't mentioned it for years. But at the time it was supposed to be one of the greatest disasters in—"
"They've all forgot about it." The fellow shifted his feet wearily. "I tell you, guv'nor, a man who was in it don't forget about it. Last thing I ever saw was C shop going up in one grand smudge, and that damn' gas pouring in at all the broken windows."
Mr. Parsons coughed. But the blind peddler was caught up with the train of his one dramatic story. And, also, he was thinking that there might be more half dollars in Mr. Parsons' pocket.
"Just think about it, guv'nor. There was a hundred and eight people killed, about two hundred injured, and over fifty of them lost their eyes. Blind as bats—" He groped forward until his dirty hand rested against Mr. Parsons'coat. "I tell you, sir, there was nothing worse than that in the war. If I had lost my eyes in the war, okay. I would have been well taken care of. But I was just a workman, working for what was in it. And I got it. You' re damn' right I got it, while the capitalists were making their dough! They were insured, don't worry about that. They—"
"Insured," repeated his listener. "Yes. That's what I sell—"
"You want to know how I lost my eyes?" cried the man. "Well, here it is!" His words fell with the bitter and studied drama of a story often told, and told for money. "I was there in the C shop, last of all the folks rushing out. Out in the air there was a chance, even with buildings exploding right and left. A lot of guys made it safe out the door and got away. And just when I was about there, crawling along between those big vats, a guy behind me grabs my leg. He says, 'Let me past, you—!' Maybe he was mad. I don't know. I try to forgive him in my heart, guv'nor. But he was bigger than me. He pulls me back and climbs right over me! Tramples me into the dirt. And he gets out, and I lie there with all that poison gas pouring down on all sides of me, and flame and stuff..." He swallowed—a studied sob—and stood silently expectant. He could imagine the next words: Tough luck, my man. Damned tough. Now, I want to—
"That's the story, guv'nor."
The spring wind shrilled past them, damp and quivering.
"Not quite," said Mr. Parsons.
The blind peddler shivered crazily. "Not quite? What you mean, you—?"
"The story is true," Mr. Parsons said, "except that it was the other way around."
"Other way around?" He croaked unamiably. "Say, guv'nor—"
"I was in C shop," said Mr. Parsons. "It was the other way around. You were the fellow who pulled me back and climbed over me. You were bigger than I was, Markwardt."
The blind man stood for a long time, swallowing hoarsely. He said: "Parsons. By God. By God! I thought you—" And then he screamed fiendishly: "Yes. Maybe so. Maybe so. But I'm blind! I'm blind, and you've been standing here letting me talk to you, and laughing at me every minute! I'm blind!"
People in the street turned to stare at him.
"You got away, but I'm blind! Do you hear? I'm—"
"Well," said Mr. Parsons, "don't make such a row about it, Markwardt. ... So am I."