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标题: 鬼屋11 [打印本页]

作者: lannsing    时间: 2010-11-26 19:23     标题: 鬼屋11

“好吧,我不会再损坏你的家俱了,但你让我坐在那儿?我已经有一个世纪没有坐下来了”说着流下了眼泪。
  “可以的家伙”我说道,“我不该对你如此严厉。你肯定也是个孤儿,就坐在地板上吧,除了它,没有任务东西可以承受你的重量--再说你高高在上,我们彼此也不能友善起来。我可以坐在会计室的高凳上,这样你就会显得低一点,我们就可以面对面的聊天。
   就这样,他坐在了地板上,点燃了我递给他的烟斗,把我的一条红毯子披在了肩上,又把我的浴盘戴在他的头上,变成一顶时髦的帽子,让他显得特别和舒适,随后当我重新点燃灯,为了暖和点他叉起双脚,那双平坦呈蜂窝状的大脚板映入眼帘。
  “你那脚底板和大腿后侧怎么回事”
  “可恶的冻疮闹的--我把它们忘得一干二净了,我栖身在一个叫纽厄儿的农场的地下,我喜欢那地方,对我来说,那儿就像是你们所说的老家,在那边我已得不到安宁,正像我在那边得到过的安宁。
   我们谈了一个半小时,我看出他有些疲倦,当我指出这点时。
  “疲倦”他说道“但愿如此。既然你对我这么关心,我就所有的一切都告诉你。我是来自街道对面博物馆里那石像的灵魂,我是加地夫巨人的灵魂,我得不到休息,也得不到安宁,直到他们把我那可怜的躯体再次埋葬。


  "Well, I will not break any more furniture. But what am I to do? I have not had a chance to sit down for a century." And the tears came into his eyes.

    "Poor devil," I said, "I should not have been so harsh with you. And you are an orphan, too, no doubt. But sit down on the floor here -- nothing else can stand your weight -- and besides, we cannot be sociable with you away up there above me; I want you down where I can perch on this high counting-house stool and gossip with you face to face."

    So he sat down on the floor, and lit a pipe which I gave him, threw one of my red blankets over his shoulders, inverted my sitz-bath on his head, helmet fashion, and made himself picturesque and comfortable. Then he crossed his ankles, while I renewed the fire, and exposed the flat, honey-combed bottoms of his prodigious feet to the grateful warmth.

    "What is the matter with the bottom of your feet and the back of your legs, that they are gouged up so?"

    "Infernal chillblains -- I caught them clear up to the back of my head, roosting out there under Newell's farm. But I love the place; I love it as one loves his old home. There is no peace for me like the peace I feel when I am there."

    We talked along for half an hour, and then I noticed that he looked tired, and spoke of it. "Tired?" he said. "Well, I should think so. And now I will tell you all about it, since you have treated me so well. I am the spirit of the Petrified Man that lies across the street there in the Museum. I am the ghost of the Cardiff Giant. I can have no rest, no peace, till they have given that poor body burial again.






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