the idle thoughts of an idle fellow[1].(一个浪子的随想)-第17章
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seized with any sudden desire in the direction of rats。
And when we bury our face in our hands and wish we had never been
born； they don't sit up very straight and observe that we have brought it all
upon ourselves。 They don't even hope it will be a warning to us。 But they
come up softly and shove their heads against us。 If it is a cat she stands on
your shoulder； rumples your hair； and says； 〃Lor；' I am sorry for you； old
man；〃 as plain as words can speak； and if it is a dog he looks up at you
with his big； true eyes and says with them； 〃Well you've always got me；
you know。 We'll go through the world together and always stand by each
other； won't we？〃
He is very imprudent； a dog is。 He never makes it his business to
inquire whether you are in the right or in the wrong； never bothers as to
whether you are going up or down upon life's ladder； never asks whether
you are rich or poor； silly or wise； sinner or saint。 You are his pal。 That is
enough for him； and come luck or misfortune； good repute or bad； honor
or shame； he is going to stick to you； to comfort you； guard you； and give
his life for you if need befoolish； brainless； soulless dog！
Ah！ old stanch friend； with your deep； clear eyes and bright； quick
glances； that take in all one has to say before one has time to speak it； do
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
you know you are only an animal and have no mind？ Do you know that
that dull…eyed； gin…sodden lout leaning against the post out there is
immeasurably your intellectual superior？ Do you know that every little…
minded； selfish scoundrel who lives by cheating and tricking； who never
did a gentle deed or said a kind word； who never had a thought that was
not mean and low or a desire that was not base； whose every action is a
fraud； whose every utterance is a liedo you know that these crawling
skulks （and there are millions of them in the world）； do you know they are
all as much superior to you as the sun is superior to rushlight you
honorable； brave…hearted； unselfish brute？ They are MEN； you know； and
MEN are the greatest； and noblest； and wisest； and best beings in the
whole vast eternal universe。 Any man will tell you that。
Yes； poor doggie； you are very stupid； very stupid indeed； compared
with us clever men； who understand all about politics and philosophy； and
who know everything； in short； except what we are and where we came
from and whither we are going； and what everything outside this tiny
world and most things in it are。
Never mind； though； pussy and doggie； we like you both all the better
for your being stupid。 We all like stupid things。 Men can't bear clever
women； and a woman's ideal man is some one she can call a 〃dear old
stupid。〃 It is so pleasant to come across people more stupid than ourselves。
We love them at once for being so。 The world must be rather a rough place
for clever people。 Ordinary folk dislike them； and as for themselves； they
hate each other most cordially。
But there； the clever people are such a very insignificant minority that
it really doesn't much matter if they are unhappy。 So long as the foolish
people can be made comfortable the world； as a whole； will get on
tolerably well。
Cats have the credit of being more worldly wise than dogsof looking
more after their own interests and being less blindly devoted to those of
their friends。 And we men and women are naturally shocked at such
selfishness。 Cats certainly do love a family that has a carpet in the kitchen
more than a family that has not； and if there are many children about； they
prefer to spend their leisure time next door。 But； taken altogether； cats are
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
libeled。 Make a friend of one； and she will stick to you through thick and
thin。 All the cats that I have had have been most firm comrades。 I had a cat
once that used to follow me about everywhere； until it even got quite
embarrassing； and I had to beg her； as a personal favor； not to accompany
me any further down the High Street。 She used to sit up for me when I was
late home and meet me in the passage。 It made me feel quite like a married
man； except that she never asked where I had been and then didn't believe
me when I told her。
Another cat I had used to get drunk regularly every day。 She would
hang about for hours outside the cellar door for the purpose of sneaking in
on the first opportunity and lapping up the drippings from the beer…cask。 I
do not mention this habit of hers in praise of the species； but merely to
show how almost human some of them are。 If the transmigration of souls
is a fact； this animal was certainly qualifying most rapidly for a Christian；
for her vanity was only second to her love of drink。 Whenever she caught
a particularly big rat； she would bring it up into the room where we were
all sitting； lay the corpse down in the midst of us； and wait to be praised。
Lord！ how the girls used to scream。
Poor rats！ They seem only to exist so that cats and dogs may gain
credit for killing them and chemists make a fortune by inventing
specialties in poison for their destruction。 And yet there is something
fascinating about them。 There is a weirdness and uncanniness attaching to
them。 They are so cunning and strong； so terrible in their numbers； so
cruel； so secret。 They swarm in deserted houses； where the broken
casements hang rotting to the crumbling walls and the doors swing
creaking on their rusty hinges。 They know the sinking ship and leave her；
no one knows how or whither。 They whisper to each other in their hiding…
places how a doom will fall upon the hall and the great name die forgotten。
They do fearful deeds in ghastly charnel…houses。
No tale of horror is complete without the rats。 In stories of ghosts and
murderers they scamper through the echoing rooms； and the gnawing of
their teeth is heard behind the wainscot； and their gleaming eyes peer
through the holes in the worm…eaten tapestry； and they scream in shrill；
unearthly notes in the dead of night； while the moaning wind sweeps；
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
sobbing； round the ruined turret towers； and passes wailing like a woman
through the chambers bare and tenantless。
And dying prisoners； in their loathsome dungeons； see through the
horrid gloom their small red eyes； like glittering coals； hear in the death…
like silence the rush of their claw…like feet； and start up shrieking in the
darkness and watch through the awful night。
I love to read tales about rats。 They make my flesh creep so。 I like that
tale of Bishop Hatto and the rats。 The wicked bishop； you know； had ever
so much corn stored in his granaries and would not let the starving people
touch it； but when they prayed to him for food gathered them together in
his barn； and then shutting the doors on them； set fire to the place and
burned them all to death。 But next day there came thousands upon
thousands o
