some short christmas stories(圣诞故事)-第1章
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！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Some Short Christmas Stories
Some Short Christmas
Stories
by Charles Dickens
1
… Page 2…
Some Short Christmas Stories
A CHRISTMAS TREE
I have been looking on； this evening； at a merry company of children
assembled round that pretty German toy； a Christmas Tree。 The tree was
planted in the middle of a great round table； and towered high above their
heads。 It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of little tapers； and
everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright objects。 There were rosy…
cheeked dolls； hiding behind the green leaves； and there were real watches
（with movable hands； at least； and an endless capacity of being wound up）
dangling from innumerable twigs； there were French…polished tables；
chairs； bedsteads； wardrobes； eight…day clocks； and various other articles
of domestic furniture （wonderfully made； in tin； at Wolverhampton）；
perched among the boughs； as if in preparation for some fairy
housekeeping； there were jolly； broad…faced little men； much more
agreeable in appearance than many real menand no wonder； for their
heads took off； and showed them to be full of sugar…plums； there were
fiddles and drums； there were tambourines； books； work…boxes； paint…
boxes； sweetmeat…boxes； peep…show boxes； and all kinds of boxes； there
were trinkets for the elder girls； far brighter than any grown…up gold and
jewels； there were baskets and pincushions in all devices； there were guns；
swords； and banners； there were witches standing in enchanted rings of
pasteboard； to tell fortunes； there were teetotums； humming…tops； needle…
cases； pen…wipers； smelling…bottles； conversation…cards； bouquet…holders；
real fruit； made artificially dazzling with gold leaf； imitation apples； pears；
and walnuts； crammed with surprises； in short； as a pretty child； before me；
delightedly whispered to another pretty child； her bosom friend； 〃There
was everything； and more。〃 This motley collection of odd objects；
clustering on the tree like magic fruit； and flashing back the bright looks
directed towards it from every sidesome of the diamond…eyes admiring it
were hardly on a level with the table； and a few were languishing in timid
wonder on the bosoms of pretty mothers； aunts； and nursesmade a lively
realisation of the fancies of childhood； and set me thinking how all the
trees that grow and all the things that come into existence on the earth；
2
… Page 3…
Some Short Christmas Stories
have their wild adornments at that well…remembered time。
Being now at home again； and alone； the only person in the house
awake； my thoughts are drawn back； by a fascination which I do not care
to resist； to my own childhood。 I begin to consider； what do we all
remember best upon the branches of the Christmas Tree of our own young
Christmas days； by which we climbed to real life。
Straight； in the middle of the room； cramped in the freedom of its
growth by no encircling walls or soon…reached ceiling； a shadowy tree
arises； and； looking up into the dreamy brightness of its top for I observe
in this tree the singular property that it appears to grow downward towards
the earthI look into my youngest Christmas recollections！
All toys at first； I find。 Up yonder； among the green holly and red
berries； is the Tumbler with his hands in his pockets； who wouldn't lie
down； but whenever he was put upon the floor； persisted in rolling his fat
body about； until he rolled himself still； and brought those lobster eyes of
his to bear upon mewhen I affected to laugh very much； but in my heart
of hearts was extremely doubtful of him。 Close beside him is that
infernal snuff…box； out of which there sprang a demoniacal Counsellor in a
black gown； with an obnoxious head of hair； and a red cloth mouth； wide
open； who was not to be endured on any terms； but could not be put away
either； for he used suddenly； in a highly magnified state； to fly out of
Mammoth Snuff…boxes in dreams； when least expected。 Nor is the frog
with cobbler's wax on his tail； far off； for there was no knowing where he
wouldn't jump； and when he flew over the candle； and came upon one's
hand with that spotted backred on a green groundhe was horrible。
The cardboard lady in a blue…silk skirt； who was stood up against the
candlestick to dance； and whom I see on the same branch； was milder； and
was beautiful； but I can't say as much for the larger cardboard man； who
used to be hung against the wall and pulled by a string； there was a sinister
expression in that nose of his； and when he got his legs round his neck
（which he very often did）； he was ghastly； and not a creature to be alone
with。
When did that dreadful Mask first look at me？ Who put it on； and
why was I so frightened that the sight of it is an era in my life？ It is not a
3
… Page 4…
Some Short Christmas Stories
hideous visage in itself； it is even meant to be droll； why then were its
stolid features so intolerable？ Surely not because it hid the wearer's face。
An apron would have done as much； and though I should have preferred
even the apron away； it would not have been absolutely insupportable； like
the mask。 Was it the immovability of the mask？ The doll's face was
immovable； but I was not afraid of HER。 Perhaps that fixed and set
change coming over a real face； infused into my quickened heart some
remote suggestion and dread of the universal change that is to come on
every face； and make it still？ Nothing reconciled me to it。 No
drummers； from whom proceeded a melancholy chirping on the turning of
a handle； no regiment of soldiers； with a mute band； taken out of a box；
and fitted； one by one； upon a stiff and lazy little set of lazy…tongs； no old
woman； made of wires and a brown…paper composition； cutting up a pie
for two small children； could give me a permanent comfort； for a long
time。 Nor was it any satisfaction to be shown the Mask； and see that it
was made of paper； or to have it locked up and be assured that no one
wore it。 The mere recollection of that fixed face； the mere knowledge of
its existence anywhere； was sufficient to awake me in the night all
perspiration and horror； with； 〃O I know it's coming！ O the mask！〃
I never wondered what the dear old donkey with the panniersthere he
is！ was made of； then！ His hide was real to the touch； I recollect。 And
the great black horse with the round red spots all over himthe horse that I
could even get uponI never wondered what had brought him to that
strange condition； or thought that such a horse was not commonly seen at
Newmarket。 The four horses of no colour； next to him； that went into the
waggon of cheeses； and could be taken out and stabled under the piano；
appear to have bits of fur…tippet for their tails； and other bits for their
manes； and to stand on pegs instead of legs； but it was not so when they
were brought home for a Christmas present。 They were all right； then；
neither was their harness unceremoniously nailed into their chests； as
appears to be the case now。 The tinkling works of the music… cart； I DID
find out； to be made of quill tooth…picks and wire； and I always thought
that little tumbler in his shirt sleeves； perpetually swarming up one side of
a wooden frame； and coming down； head foremost； on the other； rather a
4
… Page 5…
Some Short Christmas Stories
weak…minded personthough good…natured； but the Jacob's Ladder； next
him； made of little squares of red wood； that went flapping and clattering
over one another； each developing a different picture； and the whole
enlivened by small bells； was a mighty marvel and a great delight。
Ah！ The Doll's house！of which I was not proprietor； but where I
visited。 I don't admire the Houses of Parliament half so much as that
stone…fronted mansion with real glass windows； and door…steps； and a real
balconygreener than I ever see now； except at watering places； and even
they afford but a poor imitation。 And though it DID open all at once； the
entire house…front （which was a blow； I admit； as cancelling the fiction of
a staircase）； it was but to shut it up again； and I could believe。 Even open；
there were three distinct rooms in it： a sitting…room and bed…room；
elegantly furnished； and best of all； a kitchen； with uncommonly soft fire…
irons； a plentiful assortment of diminutive utensilsoh； the warming…pan！…
…and a tin man…cook in profile； who was always going to fry two fish。
What Barmecide justice have I done to the noble feasts wherein the set of
wooden platters figured； each with its own peculiar delicacy； as a ham or
turkey； glued tight on to it； and garnished with something green； which I
recollect as moss！ Could all the Temperance Societies of these later days；
united； give me such a tea…drinking as I have had through the means of
yonder little set of blue crockery； which really would hold liquid （it ran out
of the small wooden cask； I recollect； and tasted of matches）； and which
made tea； nectar。 And if the two legs of the ineffectual little sugar…tongs
did tumble over one another； and want purpose； like Punch's hands； what
does it matter？ And if I did once shriek
