第27章 The Jolly Old Pedagogue 快乐的老先生

George Arnold, 1834-1865, was born in New York City. He never attended school, but was educated at home, by his parents. His literary career occupied a period of about twelve years. In this time he wrote stories, essays, criticisms in art and literature, poems, sketches, etc., for several periodicals. Two volumes of his poems have been published since his death.

'T was a jolly old pedagogue, long ago,

Tall, and slender, and sallow, and dry;

His form was bent, and his gait was slow,

And his long, thin hair was white as snow,

But a wonderful twinkle shone in his eye:

And he sang every night as he went to bed,

"Let us be happy down here below;

The living should live, though the dead be

dead, "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

He taught the scholars the Rule of Three,

Reading, and writing, and history too;

He took the little ones on his knee,

For a kind old heart in his breast had he,

And the wants of the littlest child he knew.

"Learn while you're young, " he often said,

"There is much to enjoy down here below;

Life for the living, and rest for the dead! "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

With the stupidest boys, he was kind and cool,

Speaking only in gentlest tones;

The rod was scarcely known in his school—

Whipping to him was a barbarous rule,

And too hard work for his poor old bones;

Besides it was painful, he sometimes said:

"We should make life pleasant down here

below—

The living need charity more than the dead, "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

He lived in the house by the hawthorn lane,

With roses and woodbine over the door;

His rooms were quiet, and neat, and plain,

But a spirit of comfort there held reign,

And made him forget he was old and poor.

"I need so little, " he often said;

"And my friends and relatives here below

Won't litigate over me when I am dead, "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

But the pleasantest times he had of all,

Were the sociable hours he used to pass,

With his chair tipped back to a neighbor's wall,

Making an unceremonious call,

Over a pipe and a friendly glass:

This was the finest pleasure, he said,

Of the many he tasted here below:

"Who has no cronies had better be dead, "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

The jolly old pedagogue's wrinkled face

Melted all over in sunshiny smiles;

He stirred his glass with an old-school grace,

Chuckled, and sipped, and prattled apace,

Till the house grew merry from cellar to tiles.

"I'm a pretty old man, " he gently said,

"I've lingered a long time here below;

But my heart is fresh, if my youth is fled! "

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

He smoked his pipe in the balmy air

Every night, when the sun went down;

And the soft wind played in his silvery hair,

Leaving its tenderest kisses there,

On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly old

crown;

And feeling the kisses, he smiled, and said:

" 'T is it glorious world down here below;

Why wait for happiness till we are dead? "

Said this jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

He sat at his door one midsummer night,

After the sun had sunk in the west,

And the lingering beams of golden light

Made his kindly old face look warm and

bright,

While the odorous night winds whispered,

"Rest! "

Gently, gently, he bowed his head;

There were angels waiting for him, I know;

He was sure of his happiness, living or dead,

This jolly old pedagogue, long ago!

乔治·阿诺德（1834～1865年），出生于纽约。他从没有上过学，他所接受的教育，都是在家通过父母的教育获得的。后来他选择从事文学事业，他的文学生涯持续了12年。在这十几年里，他创作了很多故事、散文，并给一些期刊撰写有关文学、诗歌和绘画的评论性文章。他还发表过两卷诗集。

很久以前有一位快乐的老先生，

他个子高又瘦，脸色苍白，皮肤干燥；

他弯着腰，在路上艰难地行走，

他细长稀疏的头发像雪一样白，

但是他的眼中闪耀着亮光，

他每天晚上上床前都要把歌唱；

“我们快快乐乐地休息吧；

生活留给活着的人，死去的让他们

长眠吧！”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

他教给学生三条准则，

阅读、写作和历史；

他把最小的孩子放在膝上，

因为他的内心仁慈而善良，

知道那个孩子都需要什么。

“少壮要努力，”他经常说，

“长眠倒是能享受更多的乐趣；

生活是给活人的，其余的是给死者的！”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

他对最笨的孩子，善良又严肃，

他会用最温和的腔调和他交谈；

在他的学校没人挨过戒尺，

在他看来打孩子是野蛮的行为，

他这糟老头子也没力气去打人；

况且孩子还要忍受痛苦，他有时说：

“我们应该让这里的生活充满欢乐，

活人比死者更需要仁慈和同情。”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

他居住的房子坐落在山楂树街巷，

玫瑰和忍冬层层覆盖在他家门口；

他的屋子安静、整洁又简朴，

这里充满了温馨和惬意，

这让他忘了自己又老又贫穷。

“我的要求不多，”他经常说，

“我的亲戚和朋友都在地底下，

在我死以后，他们不会起诉我。”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

但是，他人生中最快乐的时光，

就是他与人交流的那几个小时，

他把椅子向后抵在邻居的墙上，

随意地叫别人

给他拿来烟斗和老花镜，

他说，这就是人生最大的乐趣，

他已经在这儿享受过很多次了，

“没有朋友的人，还不如死去。”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

快乐的老先生满是皱纹的脸

洋溢着灿烂的微笑；

他姿势优雅地扶了扶老花镜，

咯咯地笑着，抿了抿茶，自言自语，

直到房子从上到下都透露出欢乐。

“我是快乐的老先生，”他柔和地说，

“我已经在这里逗留了很久；

我的心充满活力，即使我的青春不再

回来！”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

在温暖的微风下，他抽起了烟斗。

每到夜晚，当太阳下山之后，

柔和的微风抚弄着他的银发，

给他留下最温柔的吻，

在这快乐的老先生的头顶；

感受到了这吻，他笑着说：

“这下面真是令人快乐的世界，

为什么我们到死之后才享受快乐？”

很久以前，快乐的老先生这么说。

一个仲夏的夜晚，太阳从西方落下，

他坐在门前，

金色余晖照耀大地，

使他苍老的面孔更显温和明亮，

香馨的晚风在耳边细语，“休息吧！”

他轻柔地低下头，

我知道，天使在这里迎接他！

他肯定过得很快乐，无论活着还是

死去，

很久以前，有一位快乐的老先生。