第三十三章　乔的日记

纽约，十一月

亲爱的妈咪和贝丝：

要给你们写整整一本书，有大堆的话要说，尽管我不是在欧洲大陆游历的时髦女郎。那天，等看不到爸爸那亲切的脸庞时，我感到有点伤感，要不是一个爱尔兰妇女带着四个小孩，一路上哭哭闹闹，分散了注意力，我可能会掉下泪来。每当孩子们张嘴哭闹时，我就在座位上扔姜饼糖自娱自乐。

不久太阳出来了，我把这看成是好兆头，心情也好起来了，尽情地享受起旅途的快乐。

柯克太太很亲切地欢迎我，有宾至如归的感觉，尽管这个大房子里满是陌生人。她让我住在阁楼的起居室里，小小的，很可爱，顶楼就这么一间，有一个炉子，向阳的窗下还有一张可爱的桌子。只要我喜欢，随时可以坐在这里写东西的。窗外景色很美，对面有个教堂塔楼，我立刻就喜欢上了我的书房，觉得爬再多的楼梯也心甘情愿。我要教书做针线的育儿室是个舒适的房间，在柯克太太的起居室边上。那两个小女孩挺漂亮的——我觉得她们被宠坏了。但她们听我讲了《七只坏猪》的故事后，就喜欢上了我，我不怀疑自己能成为模范的家庭女教师。

我可以在大桌子上用餐，但宁愿跟孩子们一起吃，至少目前喜欢这样，因为我感到害羞，尽管没人会相信。

“噢，乖乖，别太拘束，就像在自己家一样。”柯克太太母亲似的说，“我从早忙到晚，要管这么一个家，你是可以想象的。但如果我知道孩子们跟你在一起安全，这颗悬着的心就放下了。这个家所有的房间都对你开放，我尽可能把你房间给整得舒适些。如果要交朋友，这房子里有一些人不错。晚上不用工作。有什么问题尽管跟我讲，尽量使自己快活。喝茶的铃响了，我得赶快去换帽子。”她匆匆离开了，丢下我在新窝里打理自己。

我很快就下楼去，看到了令我欣喜的一幕。高大的房子有长长的楼梯，我站在第三段的平台上，等着一个小女佣吃力地上来。只见后面来了个男士，从她手里接过那沉甸甸的煤炭桶，一直拎到上面放在附近的一扇门边，走开时，还友善地点点头，带着外国口音说：“这样好一点。这稚嫩的肩膀经不起这样的重负。”

他是不是好人？我喜欢这样的事情，就像爸爸说的“于细微处见品质”。那天晚上我把此事跟柯太太说了，她笑着说：“肯定是巴尔教授，他总是干这种事。”

柯太太告诉我，他是柏林人，博学、善良，但穷得叮当响，靠讲课养活自己和两个父母双亡的小外甥。他姐姐嫁给了美国人，根据其遗愿，两个孩子得在美国受教育。故事并不浪漫，但我很感兴趣，我很高兴听说柯太太把起居室借给他几个学生使用。客厅和育儿室之间有一扇玻璃门，我要偷偷地看看他，然后告诉你们他的长相。他都快到四十岁了，所以这没什么坏处的，妈咪。

晚茶后，把两个小女孩哄上床，再动手整大针线篮。整个晚上我都静静地在和这个新朋友对话。我要给你们写日记形式的信，每周一封。晚安，余话明天再聊。

星期二，傍晚

今天上午的课上得很活跃，孩子们吵得像是《堂吉诃德》的桑丘，一度我真想统统推搡教训一遍。鬼使神差，我突然灵机一动，就让她们学体操。她们不停做着体操动作，直到最后高高兴兴地坐下来，而且一直保持安静。午饭后，女佣带她们出去散步，我开始了我的针线活，像小保姆梅贝尔一样心甘情愿。我正在庆幸自己学过锁漂亮的扣眼，突然听到起居室的门打开又关上，接着听到有人哼哼，“Kennst du das Land[1]”，像大黄蜂在嗡嗡发声。我掀起玻璃门上窗帘的一角，偷看着。我知道这样做是极不合适的，但挡不住这个诱惑。巴尔教授在那里整理他的书，我好好地打量着他。标准的德国人——矮胖身材，乱蓬蓬的棕色头发，大胡子，鼻子长得不错，这么和善的眼睛是我不曾见过的。听惯了要么刺耳，要么蹩脚的含糊美国腔后，就觉得他的声音特别洪亮悦耳。他穿着很旧的衣服，手很大，除了一口齐整的牙齿，五官长得并不怎么好，但我喜欢他。他头脑聪明，衬衣烫得挺挺括括，看上去很有绅士风度，尽管外套上少了两个纽扣，一只鞋上有个补丁。他嘴里哼着，表情却很严肃。他走到窗前，把风信子球转到朝阳的方向，然后摸摸猫，它像老朋友似的欢迎他。于是，他脸上露出了微笑，此时传来了敲门声，他响亮而轻快地说：

“Herein[2]! ”

我正要逃开，却看见一个小不点儿拿着本大书。我停住了，想看看接下来的一幕。

“囡囡要我的巴尔。”小东西说着，砰地扔下她的书，向他跑去。

“给你巴尔。来吧，让他好好地抱抱，我的蒂娜。”教授说。他笑着抱起她，高举过头顶，她不得不弯下身子用小脸去亲他。

“囡囡要学课课了。”滑稽的小东西说。于是，他把她放到桌子边，打开她带来的大词典，给她纸笔。她乱涂起来，不时地翻一页词典，那胖嘟嘟的小手指在页面上往下移动着，仿佛在查一个词，看上去那么认真。我差点儿忍不住笑起来，暴露形迹。巴尔教授站在一旁，慈父般地撩撩她的秀发，我觉得那一定是亲生女儿，虽然她更像法国人，而不像德国人。

敲门声再次响起，两位小姐出现了，于是我回去做自己的针线活。这会儿我不再偷看，一直很规矩地坐着干自己的事，但仍然能听到隔壁的吵闹声和说话声。一个小姐老是发出很做作的笑声，并且卖弄风情地说：“哎，教授。”另一个小姐的德语发音很糟糕，使他很难保持冷静。

两位小姐似乎都在狠心考验他的忍耐力，不止一次听到他强调说：“不，不，不是这样，你没注意听我说。”还听到一下很响的敲击声，好像是他在用书猛敲桌子，接着是绝望的感叹：“呸！今天一切都乱套了。”

可怜的人，我同情他。小姐们离去了，我再偷看一眼，看看他有没有劫后余生。他似乎筋疲力尽，靠在椅子上，闭着双眼，一直到时钟敲了两下，才猛地跳起来。他把书放到口袋里，好像又要上课了。小蒂娜在沙发上睡着了，他把她抱起来，轻轻地出去了。我猜想他的生活有点艰难。

晚饭时间是下午五点。柯克太太问我，愿不愿意下楼与大家一起吃，因为我有点儿想家，所以愿意去，就想看看同一个屋檐下住着的都是些什么人。我把自己打扮得很得体，跟在柯克太太后面，想溜进去。但是，个儿她矮我高，藏身的努力宣告失败。她给我一个她边上的位子。脸上的热度退下去后，我鼓起勇气东张西望。长桌子坐满了人，每个人都在专心吃饭——男士们尤其专注。他们似乎是计时吃饭，真真切切在狼吞虎咽，吃完马上就消失了。他们中无非有只顾自己的小伙子，有互相倾慕的小夫妻，有一心牵挂着孩子的已婚妇女，还有满脑子政治的老头。我想我不会跟他们多打交道的，除了一个长相甜甜的单身女子，她看上去有点儿花头。

教授冷落在末座，一边坐着个耳朵有点儿背的老头，另一边是个法国男人。他大声地回答着好问的老头，还跟法国人谈些哲学。要是艾美在这里，她会永远别过脸去不理他，因为，很遗憾地说，他的胃口很大，那大口铲进的样子会吓着“尊贵的小姐”的。而我不在乎，因为我喜欢“看人家津津有味地吃”，汉娜是这么说的。教了一整天的傻瓜，可怜的人肯定需要大吃大喝。

吃完饭我上楼的时候，有两个小伙子在门厅的镜子前整理帽子，我听到其中的一个轻声地问另一个：“那个新来的是谁？”

“家庭教师之类的吧。”

“见鬼，她干吗和我们同桌？”

“是老太太的朋友。”

“头脑敏捷，但没有风度。”

“一点也没有。借个火，走吧。”

起先，我很生气，后来不在乎了，家庭女教师和职员一样体面。根据这两位雅士的评论，就算我没有风度，但是我有见识，这是有些人所不具备的。他俩聊着走开了，像两根老烟枪。我不喜欢平庸之辈！

星期四

昨天很平静，教书、做针线，然后在自己的小房间里写东西。小房间很舒适，有灯又有火炉。我道听途说了一些新闻，还被引见给教授。蒂娜的妈妈好像是在本地洗衣房熨烫衣服的法国人。那个小不点儿喜欢上了巴尔先生，只要他在家，她就像小狗儿似的跟着他转。这让他很开心，因为他很喜欢小孩，尽管他是个“光滚（棍）汉”。柯克家的基蒂和明妮对他也很亲热，告诉我有关他的各种故事，他发明的游戏，他带来的礼物，他讲的好听的故事。小伙子们好像要戏弄他，他们叫他“老弗里茨[3]”“德国窖藏啤酒”“大熊星座”，用他的名字取各种绰号。但他像个小孩儿似的，觉得这些称呼好玩，柯太太说了，这样他都能蔼然处之，所以大家都喜欢他，尽管他是个老外。

那个单身女子叫诺顿小姐——富家女，有教养，而且很友善。今天她在餐桌上跟我说话了（我又去大桌子吃饭了，觉得观察人很好玩），邀请我去她房间玩。她有不少好书好画。她认识些有趣的人，显得很友好，所以我也要表现得很和气，也很想进好人的上流社会。只是这个与艾美喜欢的那个上流社会不一样。

昨天傍晚，我在客厅里，巴尔先生进来给柯克太太送报纸。她不在，但明妮像个小大人，很悦人地介绍说：“她是妈妈的朋友，马奇小姐。”

“是的，她很快活，我们很喜欢她。”基蒂补充说，她说话常常令大人难堪。

我们互相鞠个躬，然后都笑了，因为前面古板的介绍和后面坦诚的补充存在相当滑稽的反差。

“哈，对了，我听到这两个小淘气在惹你生气，马奇小姐。如果她们还要这样，叫我一声，我就来。”他说着，皱了一下眉，露出恐吓的样子，这又把小坏蛋们给逗乐了。

我答应说可以，他就离开了。似乎命中注定我要反复见到他，今天出来时路过他的房间，雨伞柄不小心碰到了他的门上。房门马上被撞开了，只见他穿着晨衣站在那里，一只手拿着一只蓝色的大短袜，一只手拿着针线。我忙做解释，匆匆离开了，他却一点也没觉得不好意思，挥挥手，袜子什么的仍拿在手上，大声而愉快地说：

“今天好天气，适合出门。Bon voyage, Mademoiselle[4].”

我一路笑着走完楼梯，一想到可怜的人还要自己补衣服，不禁有点伤感。德国男人会刺绣，这我知道，但织补袜子是另一码事，可不是那么优雅的事儿。

星期六

没什么别的可写，就写写拜访诺顿小姐吧。她的房间里尽是些漂亮的东西。她很可爱，宝贝都拿出来给我看，问我愿不愿意偶尔跟她一起去听讲座和音乐会，做她的陪伴人——如果我喜欢这些东西。她要施恩于我，我敢肯定，柯克太太把我们的情况告诉她了，对方当然完全是出于善意的。我自尊心极强，但来自这些人的这种恩惠我觉得不是负担，所以感激地接受了。

我回到育儿室的时候，起居室里很喧闹。朝里面看了一眼，只见巴尔先生四肢着地爬着，蒂娜骑在他背上，基蒂手持跳绳牵引着他，明妮在给两个小男孩喂芝麻饼。他们在椅子围成的笼子里叫着跳着。

“在玩动物游戏。”基蒂解释说。

“他是我的象象！”蒂娜抓住教授的头发说道。

明妮接着说：“礼拜六下午，弗兰茨和埃米尔都来，妈妈总是随便我们玩喜欢的事，是不是，巴尔先生？”

“象象”坐起来。他的神情和每个小孩一样认真，一本正经地对我说：“我保证是这么回事，如果声音太大了，你就‘嘘’一声，我们会轻声一点的。”

我答应了，只是让门开着，跟他们一样，觉得挺有趣——我从来没见过这么有意思的游戏呢。他们玩捉迷藏，玩打仗游戏，又跳舞又唱歌。直到天色暗了下来，孩子们都上了沙发，挤在教授的周围，听他讲童话故事，诸如送子鸟到烟囱顶上啦，做好事的森林小“精灵”乘着雪片下凡啦。真希望美国人能像德国人那样淳朴自然，你们呢？

太喜欢写信了，要不是考虑到经济问题，会一直唠叨下去的。尽管用的是薄信纸，字也写得很小，可一想到长信要花去的邮票费，我就抖抖的。艾美的来信看过后请即转寄给我。我的小消息跟她的灿烂游记比起来要平淡得多，但我知道你们会喜欢的。特迪学习很用功，没时间给他的朋友们写信吧？替我好好照顾他，贝丝，并请告诉我两个婴儿的情况。非常地爱你们每一个人。

你们忠实的乔

又及，看一遍这封信，发现巴尔居然占了很大的篇幅，但是对奇怪的人，我总是兴趣盎然，再说也确实没有东西可写。上帝保佑你们！

十二月

我的宝贝小贝丝：

这封信写得乱乱的，就直接寄给了你，可能会让你发笑，它会让你了解我的一些情况，尽管很平淡，但也相当逗人。就为这一点，快乐起来吧！经过艾美所谓大力神城般的努力，经过智力和道德上的耕耘，我灌输的幼稚观念开始发芽，小小的嫩枝遂我所愿迎风摇摆了。她们不像蒂娜和那两个小男孩那样有趣，但我尽到了责任，她们也喜欢我。弗兰茨和埃米尔是快乐的小伙子，德国人和美国人个性特点的混合，造就了他们一贯兴高采烈的性格，我十分喜欢。礼拜六下午，不管在室内还是去户外，都是欢闹的时间。天气晴好的时候要出去走走，像是在书院里一样。教授和我得维持秩序，这时候真是好玩！

我们现在是很好的朋友了，已经开始跟他上课。这件事非我能左右，整个过程很逗，得告诉你。从头说起吧，有一天路过巴尔先生的房间，柯克太太把我叫住了，她正在那里翻箱倒柜。

“你见过这样的窝吗，乖乖？进来吧，帮我把这些书整理一下。把东西都给翻遍了，想看看他把我前不久给他的六块新手帕怎么样了。”

我进去了。一边帮她整理着，一边打量着周围，这可真是“一个窝”。满屋子的书和纸头；壁炉架上的海泡石烟斗和旧笛子，像是不能用了；一只没有尾羽的鸟邋遢得很，在一边窗台上唧唧喳喳地叫着，另一个窗台上摆设着一箱小白鼠；稿子上搁着半成品的船只和几根绳子；壁炉前烘着脏兮兮的小靴子。到处是两个得宠小男孩的斑斑痕迹，他把自己变成了他们的奴隶。经过好一番折腾，才找见三条手帕，一条盖在鸟笼上，一条满是墨水，第三条用作垫布而被烤得焦黄。

“这么个人！”性格温和的柯太太笑着说，把遗存物放进了碎布袋，“我猜想另外三条被撕成布条作船索了，或者包扎割破的手指，或者做了风筝的尾巴。真是糟糕，又不能责备他。他漫不经心、脾气温和，让几个男孩骑在头上作威作福。我答应给他洗洗补补，可他忘了把东西拿来，我也忘了查看，有时候他的境况很糟糕。”

“我来替他补吧。”我说，“我不在乎，他也没必要知道。我喜欢——他那么友善，经常帮我拿信，借我书看。”

于是，我把他的东西整理好，还修整好被他奇怪的织补弄得走了形的两双短袜的后跟。我没跟他说，也希望他不会发现，但在上个礼拜的一天，被他逮了个正着。蒂娜老是进进出出，把门开着，所以我能听见他给人上课。我挺感兴趣，也觉得好玩，有了学的念头。我坐在靠近门的地方，正缝补最后一只袜子，耳朵却竖起来，听他给一个新学生上课，尽力想办法听懂，而这个学生也跟我一样笨。女孩走了，我以为他也走了，四周一片寂静。我嘴里忙不迭地念着一个动词，坐在那里摇啊摇的，一副非常可笑的样子。忽然听到一丝欢叫声，抬头发现巴尔先生站在那里看我，无声地笑着，还给蒂娜打手势，叫她不要说破。

“哦！”他说。我停下来，憨头鹅似的瞪着眼。“你偷看我，我偷看你，这不错。只是，我这么说话不会让人开心的，你想学德语吗？”

“想，可是你太忙了。我又太笨了，学不会。”我慌乱地说，脸红得像朵牡丹花。

“这样吧！我们总会挤出时间来的，我们总会找到办法的。很高兴在傍晚可以给你上点课，马奇小姐，因为我要还你这笔账。”他指指我手里的活儿说，“那些所谓善良的女士传来传去地说：‘是的，他是个老傻蛋，不知道我们都做了什么，不会发现袜跟不再有洞，会以为衣服扣子掉了会重新长出来，相信线带会自己连上去。’哈！可是我有眼睛，都看到了。我有一颗心，我知道感恩。来吧，不时地上点课，否则就不要给我和家人做童话般的事儿了。”

这么一来，我当然没话了。再说，这也确实是个好机会，我答应交换互助，并开始实施了。上了四次课后，我发现自己陷入了语法的泥沼。教授对我很耐心，但这对他肯定是痛苦的折磨。他不时略带着点绝望的表情看着我，弄得我不知道是哭好，还是笑好。我哭过，也笑过，眼看着要恼羞成怒，他索性把语法书往地上一扔，冲出了房门。我感到自己很丢人，被永远地抛弃了，但一点也不怪他。我匆匆收拾起自己的纸头，正想冲到楼上痛责自己一场时，他回来了，表情轻松快活，仿佛我是载誉而归。

“现在我们来试试新方法。我俩一起读这些令人愉快的Märchen[5]，不要再啃那本枯燥的书了，那本书给我们惹麻烦，扔到墙角里去。”

他说话态度别提多温和了，随后打开了安徒生童话，很诱人地摆在我面前。我感到更羞愧了，于是就顾头不顾尾地学功课，他看了似乎觉得非常好笑。我忘了害羞，尽最大的努力锲而不舍地（找不出别的词来表达）学着，多音节词读得结结巴巴，凭当时的灵感发音，尽力而为。当我读完第一页，停下来喘口气时，他拍着双手，由衷地叫起来：“Das ist gut[6]!我们学得很好，接下来该我念了。我用德语念，你听着。”他朗读开了，单词从他的嘴里低沉有力地蹦出来，他读得津津有味，有一种视听上的感染力。所幸这个故事是《坚定的锡兵》，你知道，是个滑稽故事，所以我可以笑——我笑了——尽管有一半我听不懂。我也禁不住要笑，因为他是那么认真，我是那么激动，整个事件又是那么滑稽。

打那以后，我们相处得更好了。现在我课文读得相当好了，这种学习方法适合我。我能看出故事里诗歌里含着语法，就像果冻裹着药丸子服用一样。我很喜欢这种教学方法，他似乎也乐此不疲——你说他是不是很好？我想送他圣诞礼物，不敢给他钱。妈咪，请告诉我送什么好。

很高兴劳里显得那么快活忙碌，甚至把烟戒了，头发也留起来了。你瞧贝丝是比我管得好。我不妒忌，乖乖，你尽力而为吧，只是别把他改造成圣人。如果他没有一点正常的淘气，我恐怕就不会喜欢他了。我的信读一点给他，没时间多写，这样做也可以了。感谢上帝，贝丝继续保持那么舒坦。

一月

祝新年快乐，最亲爱的全家！这个家当然也包括了劳先生和那个叫特迪的小伙子。我无法表达对寄来的圣诞包裹有多么的欢喜，直到晚上才收到，其实我都已经不指望了。信是上午收到的，没提及包裹的事。你们是想给我一个惊喜，而我却有点失望，因为有一种感觉，你们不会忘记我。晚茶后坐在房间里，情绪有点低落，就在此刻，这个风尘仆仆的、饱经摔打的大包裹送来了，我一把将它抱住，欢蹦乱跳起来。睹物如见人，令人精神焕发，我照例纵情地坐在地上读着、看着、吃着、笑着、哭着。所有的东西都是我正想要的，都是自做而不是买来的，这更好。贝丝的新“擦墨围兜”好极了，汉娜的那盒姜饼是我的宝贝。妈咪，我肯定会穿上你送的这件漂亮的法兰绒衣服，肯定会仔细阅读爸爸标注过的书籍。谢谢大家，非常感谢！

谈到书，我觉得自己在这一方面变得富裕起来了，因为元旦那一天巴尔先生送给我一部精致的莎士比亚。他很喜欢此书，与他所珍视的德语圣经、柏拉图、荷马、弥尔顿的书籍摆在一块儿，我经常赞美它。他把它取下来，书没有了封面，指出我的名字在上面，“朋友弗里德里希·巴尔赠”，你可以想象，这时候我是一种什么心情。

“你经常说希望拥有藏书。我送给你一本，因为这个盖子（他的意思是封面）里面是个合订本。好好读莎士比亚吧，会有很大帮助的，此书的阅人观点会帮助你读懂现实生活中的人物，然后用你的笔来刻画性格。”

我尽自己所能向他道谢了。现在谈“我的藏书”，好像我有一百本书似的。以前我从来不知道莎士比亚的内容有多么丰富，不过那时候没有一个巴尔跟我解释它。且别笑话他那可怕的名字。它的发音既不是“拜尔”，也不是“比尔”，人们通常是这样叫他的，而是介于两者之间，这种音只有德国人才发得出来。我很高兴，爸爸妈妈都喜欢有关他的故事，希望有一天你们能认识他。妈妈会欣赏他的热心肠，爸爸会欣赏他的聪明脑袋。我二者都羡慕的，有新朋友弗里德里希·巴尔，我感到自己很充实。

因为我没有多少钱，也不知道他的喜好，所以我买了几样东西摆在他房间里，他会意外地发现。这些东西要么实用，要么漂亮，要么好玩。一个新的墨水台摆在桌上，一个小花瓶给他插花。他总是在玻璃杯里插一朵花，或者一点绿色植物，用他自己的话说是，使自己保持朝气；还有一个架子供他搁风箱，这样他就不会把艾美称之为mouchoirs[7]的东西烤焦。我把手绢折成一个大蝴蝶结，像贝丝发明的那种，身子肥肥的，黑黄相间的翅膀，毛纱触须，珠子眼睛。他非常喜欢，把它摆在壁炉台上当作艺术品，可见毕竟是不成功的。尽管很穷，但他不忘记同一屋檐下的一仆一孩。也没有任何人会忘记他，从法国洗衣女佣到诺顿小姐。这一点我很高兴。

除夕夜举办了化装舞会，大家玩得很开心。我本来没打算下楼，但没有衣服穿。在最后一刻，柯克太太记起来有旧锦缎衣服在，诺顿小姐借给我一些花边和羽毛。因此我打扮成错别字太太[8]，脸上戴了个面具滑入舞池。没有人认出我，因为伪装了声音，人家做梦也想不到这个文静而傲慢的马奇小姐（因为他们，他们中大多数人，认为我很呆板很冷漠，而我对于那类自以为了不起的小人就是这个态度的）居然会跳舞，会打扮自己，会突然迸出“乱七八糟的墓志铭，就像尼罗河边的寓言”这样的话。我玩得很开心，摘下面具时，大家都盯着我看，我觉得这场面太有趣了。听到一个小伙子对他的同伴说，他知道我做过演员，更有甚者，他记起了在某个小剧院看过我演戏。美格会喜欢这类笑话的。巴尔先生装扮成尼克·博顿[9]，蒂娜装扮成提泰妮娅[10]——巴尔先生怀里拥着一个完美的小仙女。看他们跳舞，用特迪的话说，是“一道很好的风景线”。

毕竟我过了一个很愉快的新年。回到房间，我陷入了沉思，尽管有许多失败，可感到自己还是有了一点长进。我现在一直都很高兴，起劲地工作，对他人比以前更有兴趣了，这一切令人满足。上帝保佑你们！

永远爱你们的乔

* * *

[1]德语，你熟悉这个国家嘛。

[2]德语，进来。

[3]暗指德国货，质量低劣。

[4]法语，一路顺风，小姐。

[5]德语，童话。

[6]德语，很好。

[7]法语，手帕。

[8]英国剧作家谢里丹（1751—1816）创造的人物。

[9]莎士比亚剧作《仲夏夜之梦》的人物，纺织工。

[10]莎士比亚《仲夏夜之梦》人物，仙后。

CHAPTER 33 JO'S JOURNAL

New York, November

Dear Marmee and Beth,

I'm going to write you a regular volume, for I've got heaps to tell, though I'm not a fine young lady traveling on the continent. When I lost sight of Father's dear old face, I felt a trifle blue, and might have shed a briny drop or two, if an Irish lady with four small children, all crying more or less, hadn't diverted my mind, for I amused myself by dropping gingerbread nuts over the seat every time they opened their mouths to roar.

Soon the sun came out, and taking it as a good omen, I cleared up likewise and enjoyed my journey with all my heart.

Mrs. Kirke welcomed me so kindly I felt at home at once, even in that big house full of strangers. She gave me a funny little sky parlor—all she had, but there is a stove in it, and a nice table in a sunny window, so I can sit here and write whenever I like. A fine view and a church tower opposite atone for the many stairs, and I took a fancy to my den on the spot. The nursery, where I am to teach and sew, is a pleasant room next Mrs. Kirke's private parlor, and the two little girls are pretty children—rather spoiled, I fancy,but they took to me after telling them The Seven Bad Pigs,and I've no doubt I shall make a model governess.

I am to have my meals with the children, if I prefer it to the great table, and for the present I do, for I am bashful, though no one will believe it.

“Now, my dear, make yourself at home, ” said Mrs. K. in her motherly way, “I'm on the drive from morning to night, as you may suppose with such a family, but a great anxiety will be off my mind if I know the children are safe with you. My rooms are always open to you, and your own shall be as comfortable as I can make it. There are some pleasant people in the house if you feel sociable, and your evenings are always free. Come to me if anything goes wrong, and be as happy as you can. There's the tea bell, I must run and change my cap.” And off she bustled, leaving me to settle myself in my new nest.

As I went downstairs soon after, I saw something I liked. The flights are very long in this tall house, and as I stood waiting at the head of the third one for a little servant girl to lumber up, I saw a gentleman come along behind her, take the heavy hod of coal out of her hand, carry it all the way up, put it down at a door near by, and walk away, saying, with a kind nod and a foreign accent, “It goes better so. The little back is too young to haf such heaviness.”

Wasn't it good of him? I like such things, for as Father says, trifles show character. When I mentioned it to Mrs. K., that evening, she laughed, and said, “That must have been Professor Bhaer, he's always doing things of that sort.”

Mrs. K. told me he was from Berlin, very learned and good, but poor as a church mouse, and gives lessons to support himself and two little orphan nephews whom he is educating here, according to the wishes of his sister, who married an American. Not a very romantic story, but it interested me, and I was glad to hear that Mrs. K. lends him her parlor for some of his scholars. There is a glass door between it and the nursery, and I mean to peep at him, and then I'll tell you how he looks. He's almost forty, so it's no harm, Marmee.

After tea and a go-to-bed romp with the little girls, I attacked the big workbasket, and had a quiet evening chatting with my new friend. I shall keep a journal-letter, and send it once a week, so goodnight, and more tomorrow.

Tuesday Eve

Had a lively time in my seminary this morning, for the children acted like Sancho, and at one time I really thought I should shake them all round. Some good angel inspired me to try gymnastics, and I kept it up till they were glad to sit down and keep still. After luncheon, the girl took them out for a walk, and I went to my needlework like little Mabel “with a willing mind.” I was thanking my stars that I'd learned to make nice buttonholes, when the parlor door opened and shut, and someone began to hum,

Kennst Du Das Land,

like a big bumblebee. It was dreadfully improper, I know, but I couldn't resist the temptation, and lifting one end of the curtain before the glass door, I peeped in. Professor Bhaer was there, and while he arranged his books, I took a good look at him. A regular German—rather stout, with brown hair tumbled all over his head, a bushy beard, good nose, the kindest eyes I ever saw, and a splendid big voice that does one's ears good, after our sharp or slipshod American gabble. His clothes were rusty, his hands were large, and he hadn't a really handsome feature in his face, except his beautiful teeth; yet I liked him, for he had a fine head, his linen was very nice, and he looked like a gentleman, though two buttons were off his coat and there was a patch on one shoe. He looked sober in spite of his humming, till he went to the window to turn the hyacinth bulbs toward the sun, and stroke the cat, who received him like an old friend. Then he smiled, and when a tap came at the door, called out in a loud, brisk tone,

“Herein! ”

I was just going to run, when I caught sight of a morsel of a child carrying a big book, and stopped, to see what was going on.

“Me wants my Bhaer, ” said the mite, slamming down her book and running to meet him.

“Thou shalt haf thy Bhaer. Come, then, and take a goot hug from him, my Tina, ” said the Professor, catching her up with a laugh, and holding her so high over his head that she had to stoop her little face to kiss him.

“Now me mus tuddy my lessin, ” went on the funny little thing. So he put her up at the table, opened the great dictionary she had brought, and gave her a paper and pencil, and she scribbled away, turning a leaf now and then, and passing her little fat finger down the page, as if finding a word, so soberly that I nearly betrayed myself by a laugh, while Mr. Bhaer stood stroking her pretty hair with a fatherly look that made me think she must be his own, though she looked more French than German.

Another knock and the appearance of two young ladies sent me back to my work, and there I virtuously remained through all the noise and gabbling that went on next door. One of the girls kept laughing affectedly, and saying “Now Professor, ” in a coquettish tone, and the other pronounced her German with an accent that must have made it hard for him to keep sober.

Both seemed to try his patience sorely, for more than once I heard him say emphatically,“No,no,it is not so,you haf not attend to what I say, ” and once there was a loud rap, as if he struck the table with his book, followed by the despairing exclamation, “Prut! It all goes bad this day.”

Poor man, I pitied him, and when the girls were gone, took just one more peep to see if he survived it. He seemed to have thrown himself back in his chair, tired out, and sat there with his eyes shut till the clock struck two, when he jumped up, put his books in his pocket, as if ready for another lesson, and taking little Tina who had fallen asleep on the sofa in his arms, he carried her quietly away. I fancy he has a hard life of it. Mrs. Kirke asked me if I wouldn't go down to the five o'clock dinner—and feeling a little bit homesick, I thought I would, just to see what sort of people are under the same roof with me. So I made myself respectable and tried to slip in behind Mrs. Kirke, but as she is short and I'm tall, my efforts at concealment were rather a failure. She gave me a seat by her, and after my face cooled off, I plucked up courage and looked about me. The long table was full, and every one intent on getting their dinner, the gentlemen especially,who seemed to be eating on time,for they bolted in every sense of the word, vanishing as soon as they were done. There was the usual assortment of young men absorbed in themselves, young couples absorbed in each other, married ladies in their babies, and old gentlemen in politics. I don't think I shall care to have much to do with any of them, except one sweetfaced maiden lady, who looks as if she had something in her.

Cast away at the very bottom of the table was the Professor, shouting answers to the questions of a very inquisitive, deaf old gentleman on one side, and talking philosophy with a Frenchman on the other. If Amy had been here, she'd have turned her back on him forever because, sad to relate, he had a great appetite, and shoveled in his dinner in a manner which would have horrified “her ladyship”. I didn't mind, for I like “to see folks eat with a relish, ” as Hannah says, and the poor man must have needed a deal of food after teaching idiots all day.

As I went upstairs after dinner, two of the young men were settling their hats before the hall mirror, and I heard one say low to the other,“Who's the new party? ”

“Governess, or something of that sort.”

“What the deuce is she at our table for? ”

“Friend of the old lady's.”

“Handsome head, but no style.”

“Not a bit of it. Give us a light and come on.”

I felt angry at first, and then I didn't care, for a governess is as good as a clerk, and I've got sense, if I haven't style, which is more than some people have, judging from the remarks of the elegant beings who clattered away, smoking like bad chimneys. I hate ordinary people!

Thursday

Yesterday was a quiet day spent in teaching, sewing, and writing in my little room, which is very cozy, with a light and fire. I picked up a few bits of news and was introduced to the Professor. It seems that Tina is the child of the Frenchwoman who does the fine ironing in the laundry here. The little thing has lost her heart to Mr. Bhaer, and follows him about the house like a dog whenever he is at home, which delights him, as he is very fond of children, though a “bacheldore”. Kitty and Minnie Kirke likewise regard him with affection, and tell all sorts of stories about the plays he invents, the presents he brings, and the splendid tales he tells. The young men quiz him, it seems, call him Old Fritz, Lager Beer, Ursa Major, and make all manner of jokes on his name. But he enjoys it like a boy, Mrs. Kirke says, and takes it so good-naturedly that they all like him in spite of his foreign ways.

The maiden lady is a Miss Norton—rich, cultivated, and kind. She spoke to me at dinner today (for I went to table again, it's such fun to watch people), and asked me to come and see her at her room. She has fine books and pictures, knows interesting persons, and seems friendly, so I shall make myself agreeable, for I do want to get into good society, only it isn't the same sort that Amy likes.

I was in our parlor last evening when Mr. Bhaer came in with some newspapers for Mrs. Kirke. She wasn't there, but Minnie, who is a little old woman, introduced me very prettily: “This is Mamma's friend, Miss March.”

“Yes, and she's jolly and we like her lots, ” added Kitty, who is an enfant terrible.

We both bowed, and then we laughed, for the prim introduction and the blunt addition were rather a comical contrast.

“Ah, yes, I hear these naughty ones go to vex you, Mees Marsch. If so again, call at me and I come, ” he said, with a threatening frown that delighted the little wretches.

I promised I would, and he departed; but it seems as if I was doomed to see a good deal of him, for today as I passed his door on my way out, by accident I knocked against it with my umbrella. It flew open, and there he stood in his dressing gown, with a big blue sock on one hand and a darning needle in the other. He didn't seem at all ashamed of it, for when I explained and hurried on, he waved his hand, sock and all, saying in his loud, cheerful way—

“You haf a fine day to make your walk.Bon voyage,mademoiselle.”

I laughed all the way downstairs, but it was a little pathetic, also to think of the poor man having to mend his own clothes. The German gentlemen embroider, I know, but darning hose is another thing and not so pretty.

Saturday

Nothing has happened to write about, except a call on Miss Norton, who has a room full of pretty things, and who was very charming, for she showed me all her treasures, and asked me if I would sometimes go with her to lectures and concerts, as her escort, if I enjoyed them. She put it as a favor, but I'm sure Mrs. Kirke has told her about us, and she does it out of kindness to me. I'm as proud as Lucifer, but such favors from such people don't burden me, and I accepted gratefully.

When I got back to the nursery there was such an uproar in the parlor that I looked in, and there was Mr. Bhaer down on his hands and knees, with Tina on his back, Kitty leading him with a jump rope, and Minnie feeding two small boys with seedcakes, as they roared and ramped in cages built of chairs.

“We are playing nargerie, ”explained Kitty.

“Dis is mine effalunt! ” added Tina, holding on by the Professor's hair.

“Mamma always allows us to do what we like Saturday afternoon, when Franz and Emil come, doesn't she, Mr. Bhaer? ” said Minnie.

The “effalunt” sat up, looking as much in earnest as any of them, and said soberly to me, “I gif you my wort it is so, if we make too large a noise you shall say Hush! to us, and we go more softly.”

I promised to do so, but left the door open and enjoyed the fun as much as they did—for a more glorious frolic I never witnessed. They played tag and soldiers, danced and sang, and when it began to grow dark they all piled onto the sofa about the Professor, while he told charming fairy stories of the storks on the chimney tops, and the little “kobolds”, who ride the snowflakes as they fall. I wish Americans were as simple and natural as Germans, don't you?

I'm so fond of writing, I should go spinning on forever if motives of economy didn't stop me; for though I've used thin paper and written fine, I tremble to think of the stamps this long letter will need. Pray forward Amy's as soon as you can spare them. My small news will sound very flat after her splendors, but you will like them, I know. Is Teddy studying so hard that he can't find time to write to his friends? Take good care of him for me, Beth, and tell me all about the babies, and give heaps of love to everyone.

From your faithful

Jo

P. S. On reading over my letter, it strikes me as rather Bhaery, but I am always interested in odd people, and I really had nothing else to write about. Bless you!

DECEMBER

My Precious Beth,

As this is to be a scribble-scrabble letter, I direct it to you, for it may amuse you, and give you some idea of my goings on; for though quiet, they are rather amusing, for which, oh, be joyful! After what Amy would call Herculaneum efforts, in the way of mental and moral agriculture, my young ideas begin to shoot and my little twigs to bend as I could wish. They are not so interesting to me as Tina and the boys, but I do my duty by them, and they are fond of me. Franz and Emil are jolly little lads, quite after my own heart, for the mixture of German and American spirit in them produces a constant state of effervescence. Saturday afternoons are riotous times, whether spent in the house or out, for on pleasant days they all go to walk, like a seminary, with the Professor and myself to keep order, and then such fun!

We are very good friends now, and I've begun to take lessons. I really couldn't help it, and it all came about in such a droll way that I must tell you. To begin at the beginning, Mrs. Kirke called to me one day as I passed Mr. Bhaer's room where she was rummaging.

“Did you ever see such a den, my dear? Just come and help me put these books to rights, for I've turned everything upside down, trying to discover what he has done with the six new handkerchiefs I gave him not long ago.”

I went in, and while we worked I looked about me, for it was “a den”to be sure. Books and papers everywhere; a broken meerschaum, and an old flute over the mantlepiece as if done with, a ragged bird without any tail chirped on one window seat, and a box of white mice adorned the other; half-finished boats and bits of string lay among the manuscripts. Dirty little boots stood drying before the fire, and traces of the dearly beloved boys, for whom he makes a slave of himself, were to be seen all over the room. After a grand rummage three of the missing articles were found, one over the bird cage—one covered with ink, and a third burned brown, having been used as a holder.

“Such a man! ” laughed good-natured Mrs. K., as she put the relics in the rag bay. “I suppose the others are torn up to rig ships, bandage cut fingers, or make kite tails. It's dreadful, but I can't scold him: he's so absent-minded and good-natured, he lets those boys ride over him roughshod. I agreed to do his washing and mending, but he forgets to give out his things and I forget to look them over, so he comes to a sad pass sometimes.”

“Let me mend them, ” said I. “I don't mind it, and he needn't know. I'd like to, he's so kind to me about bringing my letters and lending books.”

So I have got his things in order, and knit heels into two pairs of the socks—for they were boggled out of shape with his queer darns. Nothing was said, and I hoped he wouldn't find it out, but one day last week he caught me at it. Hearing the lessons he gives to others has interested and amused me so much that I took a fancy to learn, for Tina runs in and out, leaving the door open, and I can hear. I had been sitting near this door, finishing off the last sock, and trying to understand what he said to a new scholar, who is as stupid as I am. The girl had gone, and I thought he had also, it was so still, and I was busily gabbling over a verb, and rocking to and fro in a most absurd way, when a little crow made me look up, and there was Mr. Bhaer looking and laughing quietly, while he made signs to Tina not to betray him.

“So! ” he said, as I stopped and stared like a goose, “you peep at me, I peep at you, and this is not bad; but see, I am not pleasanting when I say, haf you a wish for German? ”

“Yes, but you are too busy. I am too stupid to learn, ” I blundered out, as red as a peony.

“Prut! We will make the time, and we fail not to find the sense. At efening I shall gif a little lesson with much gladness, for look you, Mees Marsch, I haf this debt to pay.” And he pointed to my work. “‘Yes, ' they say to one another, these so kind ladies, ‘he is a stupid old fellow, he will see not what we do, he will never observe that his sock heels go not in holes any more, he will think his buttons grow out new when they fall, and believe that strings make theirselves.' Ah! But I haf an eye, and I see much. I haf a heart, and I feel thanks for this. Come, a little lesson then and now, or—no more good fairy works for me and mine.”

Of course I couldn't say anything after that, and as it really is a splendid opportunity, I made the bargain, and we began. I took four lessons, and then I stuck fast in a grammatical bog. The Professor was very patient with me, but it must have been torment to him, and now and then he'd look at me with such an expression of mild despair that it was a toss-up with me whether to laugh or cry. I tried both ways, and when it came to a sniff of utter mortification and woe, he just threw the grammar on to the floor and marched out of the room. I felt myself disgraced and deserted forever, but didn't blame him a particle, and was scrambling my papers together, meaning to rush upstairs and shake myself hard, when in he came, as brisk and beaming as if I'd covered myself in glory.

“Now we shall try a new way. You and I will read these pleasant little Märchen together,and dig no more in that dry book,that goes in the corner for making us trouble.”

He spoke so kindly, and opened Hans Andersen's fairy tales so invitingly before me, that I was more ashamed than ever, and went at my lesson in a neck-or-nothing style that seemed to amuse him immensely. I forgot my bashfulness, and pegged away (no other word will express it) with all my might, tumbling over long words, pronouncing according to inspiration of the minute, and doing my very best. When I finished reading my first page, and stopped for breath, he clapped his hands and cried out in his hearty way,“Das ist gut!Now we go well!My turn.I do him in German, gif me your ear.” And away he went, rumbling out the words with his strong voice and a relish which was good to see as well as hear. Fortunately the story was “The Constant Tin Soldier”, which is droll, you know, so I could laugh—and I did—though I didn't understand half he read, for I couldn't help it, he was so earnest, I so excited, and the whole thing so comical.

After that we got on better, and now I read my lessons pretty well, for this way of studying suits me, and I can see that the grammar gets tucked into the tales and poetry as one gives pills in jelly. I like it very much, and he doesn't seem tired of it yet—which is very good of him, isn't it? I mean to give him something on Christmas, for I dare not offer money. Tell me something nice, Marmee.

I'm glad Laurie seems so happy and busy, that he has given up smoking and lets his hair grow. You see Beth manages him better than I did. I'm not jealous, dear, do your best, only don't make a saint of him. I'm afraid I couldn't like him without a spice of human naughtiness. Read him bits of my letters. I haven't time to write much, and that will do just as well. Thank Heaven Beth continues so comfortable.

JANUARY

A Happy New Year to you all, my dearest family, which of course includes Mr. L. and a young man by the name of Teddy. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed your Christmas bundle, for I didn't get it till night and had given up hoping. Your letter came in the morning, but you said nothing about a parcel, meaning it for a surprise, so I was disappointed, for I'd had a “kind of feeling” that you wouldn't forget me. I felt a little low in my mind as I sat up in my room after tea, and when the big, muddy, battered-looking bundle was brought to me, I just hugged it and pranced. It was so homey and refreshing that I sat down on the floor and read and looked and ate and laughed and cried, in my usual absurd way. The things were just what I wanted, and all the better for being made instead of bought. Beth's new “ink bib” was capital, and Hannah's box of hard gingerbread will be a treasure. I'll be sure and wear the nice flannels you sent, Marmee, and read carefully the books Father has marked. Thank you all, heaps and heaps!

Speaking of books reminds me that I'm getting rich in that line, for on New Year's Day Mr. Bhaer gave me a fine Shakespeare. It is one he values much, and I've often admired it, set up in the place of honor with his German Bible, Plato, Homer, and Milton; so you may imagine how I felt when he brought it down, without its cover, and showed me my own name in it, “from my friend Friedrich Bhaer.”

“You say often you wish a library. Here I gif you one, for between these lids (he meant covers) is many books in one. Read him well, and he will help you much, for the study of characte