内河航程 英文版 An Inland Voyage
罗伯特.路易斯.史蒂文森 Robert Louis Stevenson
DOWN THE OISE: TO COMPIEGNE
The most patient people grow weary at last with being continuallywetted with rain; except of course in the Scottish Highlands, wherethere are not enough fine intervals to point the difference. Thatwas like to be our case, the day we left Noyon. I remember nothingof the voyage; it was nothing but clay banks and willows, and rain;incessant, pitiless, beating rain; until we stopped to lunch at alittle inn at Pimprez, where the canal ran very near the river. Wewere so sadly drenched that the landlady lit a few sticks in thechimney for our comfort; there we sat in a steam of vapour,lamenting our concerns. The husband donned a game-bag and strodeout to shoot; the wife sat in a far corner watching us. I think wewere worth looking at. We grumbled over the misfortune of La Fere;we forecast other La Feres in the future;--although things wentbetter with the Cigarette for spokesman; he had more aplombaltogether than I; and a dull, positive way of approaching alandlady that carried off the india-rubber bags. Talking of LaFere put us talking of the reservists.
'Reservery,' said he, 'seems a pretty mean way to spend ones autumnholiday.'
'About as mean,' returned I dejectedly, 'as canoeing.'
'These gentlemen travel for their pleasure?' asked the landlady,with unconscious irony.
need to work hardagainst an eddy: but idleness became the order of the day, andmere.
It was too much. The scales fell from our eyes. Another wet day,it was determined, and we put the boats into the train.
The weather took the hint. That was our last wetting. Theafternoon faired up: grand clouds still voyaged in the sky, butnow singly, and with a depth of blue around their path; and asunset in the daintiest rose and gold inaugurated a thick night ofstars and a month of unbroken weather. At the same time, the riverbegan to give us a better outlook into the country. The banks werenot so high, the willows disappeared from along the margin, andpleasant hills stood all along its course and marked their profileon the sky.
In a little while the canal, coming to its last lock, began todischarge its water-houses on the Oise; so that we had no lack ofcompany to fear. Here were all our old friends; the Deo Gratias ofConde and the Four Sons of Aymon journeyed cheerily down streamalong with us; we exchanged waterside pleasantries with thesteersman perched among the lumber, or the driver hoarse withbawling to his horses; and the children came and looked over theside as we paddled by. We had never known all this while how muchwe missed them; but it gave us a fillip to see the smoke from theirchimneys.
A little below this junction we made another meeting of yet moreaccount. For there we were joined by the Aisne, already a far-travelled river and fresh out of Champagne. Here ended theadolescence of the Oise; this was his marriage day; thenceforwardhe had a stately, brimming march, conscious of his own dignity andsundry dams. He became a tranquil feature in the scene. The treesand towns saw themselves in him, as in a mirror. He carried thecanoes lightly on his broad breast; there was no need to work hardagainst an eddy: but idleness became the order of the day, andmere straightforward dipping of the paddle, now on this side, nowon that, without intelligence or effort. Truly we were coming intohalcyon weather upon all accounts, and were floated towards the sealike gentlemen.
We made Compiegne as the sun was going down: a fine profile of atown above the river. Over the bridge, a regiment was parading tothe drum. People loitered on the quay, some fishing, some lookingidly at the stream. And as the two boats shot in along the water,we could see them pointing them out and speaking one to another.We landed at a floating lavatory, where the washerwomen were stillbeating the clothes.