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LESSON 11
John Greenleaf Whittier was born near Haverhill, Mass., in 1807, and died at Hampton Falls, N.H., in 1892. His boyhood was passed on a farm, and he never received a classical education. In 1829 he edited a newspaper in Boston. In the following year he removed to Hartford, Conn., to assume a similar position. In 1836 he edited an antislavery paper in Philadelphia. In 1840 he removed to Amesbury, Mass. Mr. Whittier’s parents were Friends, and he always held to the same faith. He wrote extensively both in prose and verse. As a poet, he ranked among those most highly esteemed and honored by his countrymen. “Snow Bound” is one of the longest and best of his poems.
1. Our bachelor uncle who lived with us was a quiet, genial
man, much given to hunting and fishing; and it was one of the pleasures of our young life to accompany himon his expeditions to Great Hill, Brandy-brow Woods, the Pond, and, best of all, to the Country Brook. We were quite willing to work hard in the cornfield or the haying lot to finish the necessary day’s labor in season for an afternoon stroll through the woods andalong the brookside.
2. I remember my first fishing excursion as if it were but yesterday. I have been happ many times in my life, but never more intensely so than when I received that first fishinpole from my uncle’s hand, and trudged off with him through the woods and meadows. It was a still, sweet day of early summer; the long afternoon shadows of the trees lay cool across our path; the leaves seemed greener, the flowers brighter, the birds merrier,than ever before.
3. My uncle, who knew by long experience where were the best haunts
of pickerel, considerately
placedthefavorablepoint.threwlinehadIIatmostoutmemyasso w imaiitteadt ioannx oiof uthsley lfeoarp ao bf it the bait erks on the jothers,andmovinginrapidoftenseene,surface of the water in f came Try again,” Nothingit.“ofarog.said my uncle. Sudde it,” thought I nlythebaiksight.“hereisffor“Nowtt;sanouoa ht”fis last. a
4. I made a strong pull, and brouht u a tanle of weeds. Aain and aain I cast out gpggg looked
lineithachinganddreibkcleappealingly“TryItempty. e atmyarms,acmnwwyu. more,” we fishermen must”he“id havpatience.once;sa
5. Suddenly something tugged at my line, and swept off with it into deep water. elgne.”I,gkJerkingitfin pickere gworti gag lfiin i th“Uncle! cried lookin bac sun I up,sawa excitem h!” “Not yet,” said my uncle.seeinuncontrollables h spok“I’ve Aent, there was a plash in the water; I caught the arrowy gleam of a scared fish shooting intothe middle of the stream, my hook hung empty from the line. I had lost my prize.
6. We are apt to speak of the sorrows of childhood as trifles in comparison witthose of grown-up people; but we may depend upon it the young folks don’t agree with us. Our griefs, modifie1 and restrained by reason, experience,and self-respect, keep the proprieties
, and, if possible, avoid a scene; but the sorrow of childhood, unreasoning and all-absorbing
, is a complete abandonment to the passion. The doll’s nose is broken, and the world breaks up with it; the marble rolls out of sight, and the solid globe rolls off with the marble.
7. So, overcome with my great and bitter disappointment, I sat down on the nearest hassock
, and for a time refused to be comforted, even by my uncle’s assurance that there were more fish in the brook. He refitted my bait, and, putting the pole again in mhands, told me to try my luck once more.
8. “But remember, boy,” he said, with his shrewd smile, “never brag of catching a fish until he is on dry ground. I’ve seen older folks doing that in more ways than one, and so making fools of themselves. It’s no use to boast of anything until it’s done, nor then, either, for it speaks for itself.”
9. How often since I have been reminded of the fish that I did not catch. When I hear people boasting of a work as yet undone, and trying to anticipate
the credit which belongs only to actual achievement
, I call to mind that scene by the brookside, and the wise caution of my uncle in that particular instance takes the form of a proverb of universal application: “NEVER BRAG OF YOUR FISH BEFORE YOU CATCH HIM.”
【中文阅读】
1807年，约翰·格林利夫·惠蒂尔出生于美国马萨诸塞州的哈福希尔附近地区，1892年在新罕布什尔州汉普敦大瀑布逝世。惠蒂尔在农场度过了童年时代，他从未接受过任何传统教育。1829年，惠蒂尔在波士顿开始编撰报纸，翌年搬迁到美国康涅狄格州首府哈特福特市继续编辑职业。1836年，他在费城从事反对奴隶制报刊编辑工作。1840年，他又迁回马萨诸塞州埃姆斯伯里。惠蒂尔父母为基督教公教会教友，他本人亦笃信基督教，一生写有大量散文与诗歌，堪称为美国最负声望及受人爱戴的诗人之一。《雪原》是他篇幅最长、最为优异的一篇诗歌作品。
1 ．与我们全家共同生活的鳏夫叔叔沉默寡言，性情温和，打猎或垂钓占据他生活中大多时光，于是，跟随他到处郊游野足成了我们年少时乐此不疲的快乐生活。我们足迹遍及格瑞特山、布兰迪山坡森林和大湖等地方。令我们最为心驰神往的还是那条康瑞河。夏季来临，我们通常在玉米地或干草堆边挥汗如雨，筋疲力尽地做完当天必须完成的农活，午后，我们便钻进丛林，或者沿那条康瑞河尽兴散步。
2 ．恍惚如昨天发生的一切，那是我首次出去钓鱼。在我一生中，有过许多快乐时光，可这次钓鱼，却给我留下刻骨铭心的记忆。平生第一次，我从叔叔手里接过那根鱼竿，随他穿过那簇簇丛林，涉过翻飞草场，一路跋涉步履艰难。记得当时正值初夏，四周安静极了，路边枝繁叶茂，遮蔽了午后漫长的阳光，满地蓊郁夹杂五颜六色的野花，鸟声鸣啾不断，天地间似乎未曾有过这样的美妙柔和。
3 ．由于长期垂钓生涯，经验丰富的叔叔谙知狗鱼出没之地，他极为慎重地帮我选好上佳的垂钓地方。素日观看他人钓鱼颇多，我也学着别人模样，用力甩出长长的钓线，然后焦急地等待鱼儿上来咬钩；还不时模仿青蛙蹦跳姿势，沿水面上猛拽鱼饵，半晌，也没见一条鱼儿上钩。“再试一次，”叔叔对我叫道。突然，鱼钩沉下水面，“有了，”我心头一喜，“咬钩了。”
4 ．我猛地提起鱼竿，拽出的却是缠成一团的水草。再来一次，我总是满怀希望地抛出钓线，却还是一无所获，胳膊亦隐约疼痛起来。我求救地看了看叔叔，“再试试，”他对我说，“钓鱼的人需要格外耐心。”
5 ．忽然，什么东西扯住了鱼线，猛地往下一拽，我扯住鱼竿拉起一看，一条漂亮的狗鱼在阳光下挣扎扭动，“叔叔！”我回头大声叫道，抑制不住满心激动。“我钓到了一条大鱼！”“哎，”叔叔的话未说完，刹那间，水面溅起浪花，只见一道箭矢般银光划过，那条大鱼跃入水中，我手握的那柄钓竿上，只留下空空的饵钩，呜呼！到手的大狗鱼就这样在我的眼皮下溜走了。
6. 我们极易谈及孩提时代的懊恼，与成人那些痛苦比较，尽管鸡毛蒜皮，不值一提，但总会耿耿于怀。当然，年轻人看来每每不以为然。因理性、经验、甚至自尊改变并抑制的童年痛苦，将会演变成一种安之若素的面对，可能的话，我们或许不再百般纠结闷闷不乐。然而，孩提时代缺乏理性、沉湎痛苦难以自拔，却是任由性情恣意放纵。洋娃娃鼻子破了，整个世界随之打碎；弹子球滚不见了，整个天地接着地陷天塌。
7. 哎呀，一种说不出来的锥心痛苦攫取了我，我倍感失望，一屁股颓然瘫坐在身边的草墩上，叔叔好言好语的相劝亦无法使我平静下来。他一再劝说我，“河里的鱼，反正多着呢。”然后一声不吭地帮我重新安好鱼饵，将鱼竿递给我，嘱咐我再来试试手气。
8. “孩子，请记住，”叔叔最后对我说，脸上露出狡黠笑意，“切忌不可自吹自擂，除非鱼儿上岸入笼。我这一生，见过多少年轻人花样翻新的吹牛，结果呢？徒给世人留下几多笑话。凡事八字未见一撇，不可吹嘘张扬。谨慎从事，低调做人，事实胜于雄辩。”
9. 从此，每当我一次次听到周围朋友吐沫四溅地吹嘘自己遥遥无期的奋斗目标，为人行事不切实际，却又指望成功唾手可得，那条漏网的大狗鱼总会不失时机地跳跃在我的面前，河边钓鱼的场景再度浮现。当年叔叔那么睿智冷静，循循善诱地开导我不可鲁莽，寡言者智，一条谚语教我悟透人生玄机：“静以修身，静水流深。”
