贝尔维尔之夜的清晰的回忆

如潮水一般涌来，当时，我们大家一起围坐在 晚餐桌旁。艾伦舅舅、我母亲、查

理舅舅、多丽丝、哈尔舅舅，帕特舅妈晚饭做的是意大 利细面条。那时意大利细

面条还是很少听说的异国食品。

多丽丝 和我都还从来没吃过，

在座的大人也是经

验不足，

没有一个吃起来得心应手的。

艾伦舅舅家诙谐有趣的场景全都重现在我

的脑海中，

我回想起来，

当晚我们笑作一团，

争论着该如何地把面条从盘子上送

到嘴里才算合乎礼仪。

Suddenly I wanted to write about that, about the warmth and good feeling of it, but I

wanted to put it down simply for my own joy, not for Mr. Fleagle. It was a moment I

wanted

to

recapture

and

hold

for

myself.

I

wanted

to

relive

the

pleasure

of

that

evening.

To

write

it

as

I

wanted,

however,

would

violate

all

the

rules

of

formal

composition I'd learned in school, and Mr. Fleagle would surely give it a failing grade.

Never mind. I would write something else for Mr. Fleagle after I had written this thing

for myself.

突然我就想描述那一切，

描述当时那 种温馨美好的气氛，

但我把它写下来仅仅是

想自得其乐，

而不是为弗利格尔先生而写。

那是我想重新捕捉并珍藏在心中的一

个时刻。我想重温那个夜晚的愉快。然而，照我希望的那样去写，就会违反我在

学校里学的正式作文的种种法则，

弗利格尔先生也肯定会打它一个不及格。< /p>

没关

系。等我为自己写好了之后，我可以再为弗利格尔先生写点什 么别的东西。

6 When I finished it the night was half gone and there was no time left to compose a

proper,respectable essay for

Mr.

Fleagle.

There was

no

choice next

morning but to

turn in my tale of the Belleville supper. Two days passed before Mr. Fleagle returned

the graded papers, and he returned everyone's but mine. I was preparing myself for a

command to report to Mr. Fleagle immediately after school for discipline when I saw

him lift my paper from his desk and knock for the class's attention.

< br>等我写完时已是半夜时分，

再没时间为弗利格尔先生写一篇循规蹈矩、

的文章了。

第二天上午，

我别无选择，

只好把我为自己而写的贝尔维尔晚餐的故

事交了上去。

两天后弗利格尔先生发还批改过的作文，

他把别人 的都发了，

就是

没有我的。

我正准备着 遵命一放学就去弗利格尔先生那儿挨训，

却看见他从桌上

拿起我 的作文，敲了敲桌子让大家注意听。

7

Spaghetti.'

好了，孩子们，

他说。

我要给你们念一篇小品文。文章的题目是

:

吃意大利细面条的艺术。

8 And he started to read. My words! He was reading my words out loud to the entire

's more, the entire class was listening. Listening somebody

laughed, then the

entire

class

was

laughing,

and

not

in

contempt

and ridicule, but

with open-hearted enjoyment. Even e stopped two or three times to hold

back a small prim smile.

于是他开始念了。

是我写的～他给全 班大声念我写的文章。

更不可思议的是，

全

班同学都在听着他念，而且听得很专心。有人笑出声来，接着全班都笑了，不是

轻蔑 嘲弄，

而是乐乎乎地开怀大笑。

就连弗利格尔先生也停顿了两三 次，

好抑制

他那一丝拘谨的微笑。

9 I did my best to avoid showing pleasure, but what I was feeling was pure delight at

this

demonstration

that

my

words

had

the

power

to

make

people

laugh.

In

the

eleventh grade, at the eleventh hour as it were, I had discovered a calling. It was the

happiest moment of my entire school career. When Mr. Fleagle finished he put the

final seal on my happiness by saying,

don't you see ? it's of the very essence of the essay, don't you see. Congratulations,

Mr. Baker.

我尽力不流露出得意的心情，

但是看到我写的文章竟然能使别人 大笑，

我真是心

花怒放。就在十一年级，可谓是最后的时刻，我 找到了一个今生想做的事。这是

我整个求学生涯中最幸福的一刻。弗利格尔先生念完后说 道

:

瞧，孩子们，这就

是小品文，

懂了没有。

这才是

??

知道吗

??

这才是小品文的精髓，

知道了没 有。

祝贺你，贝克先生。

他这番话使我 沉浸在十全十美的幸福之中。

第二单元

1

、

He must have been completely lost in something he was reading because I had to

tap on the windshield to get his attention.

出租车司机 拥有的就剩一封信，福斯特

?

弗克洛。他准是完全沉浸在所读的 东西

里了，因为我不得不敲挡风玻璃来引起他的注意。

2

said

apologetically

as

I

settled

into

the

back

seat,

sorry,

but

I

was

reading

a

letter.

他总算抬头看我了。

“你出车吗

,

”我问道。他点点头，当我坐进后座时，他抱歉

地说

:

“对不起，我在读一封信。

”听上去他像是得

3

“我不着急，

”我对他说，

“你接着把信读完吧。

”

4 He shook his head.

heart.