Fables. Роберт Стивенсон

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СКАЧАТЬ men,” said the Captain, “there is no sense in this. The ship is going down, you will tell me, in ten minutes: well, and what then? To the philosophic eye, there is nothing new in our position. All our lives long, we may have been about to break a blood-vessel or to be struck by lightning, not merely in ten minutes, but in ten seconds; and that has not prevented us from eating dinner, no, nor from putting money in the Savings Bank. I assure you, with my hand on my heart, I fail to comprehend your attitude.”

      The men were already too far gone to pay much heed.

      “This is a very painful sight, Mr. Spoker,” said the Captain.

      “And yet to the philosophic eye, or whatever it is,” replied the first lieutenant, “they may be said to have been getting drunk since they came aboard.”

      “I do not know if you always follow my thought, Mr. Spoker,” returned the Captain gently. “But let us proceed.”

      In the powder magazine they found an old salt smoking his pipe.

      “Good God,” cried the Captain, “what are you about?”

      “Well, sir,” said the old salt, apologetically, “they told me as she were going down.”

      “And suppose she were?” said the Captain. “To the philosophic eye, there would be nothing new in our position. Life, my old shipmate, life, at any moment and in any view, is as dangerous as a sinking ship; and yet it is man’s handsome fashion to carry umbrellas, to wear indiarubber over-shoes, to begin vast works, and to conduct himself in every way as if he might hope to be eternal. And for my own poor part I should despise the man who, even on board a sinking ship, should omit to take a pill or to wind up his watch. That, my friend, would not be the human attitude.”

      “I beg pardon, sir,” said Mr. Spoker. “But what is precisely the difference between shaving in a sinking ship and smoking in a powder magazine?”

      “Or doing anything at all in any conceivable circumstances?” cried the Captain. “Perfectly conclusive; give me a cigar!”

      Two minutes afterwards the ship blew up with a glorious detonation.

      III – THE TWO MATCHES

      One day there was a traveller in the woods in California, in the dry season, when the Trades were blowing strong. He had ridden a long way, and he was tired and hungry, and dismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. But when he felt in his pocket he found but two matches. He struck the first, and it would not light.

      “Here is a pretty state of things!” said the traveller. “Dying for a smoke; only one match left; and that certain to miss fire! Was there ever a creature so unfortunate? And yet,” thought the traveller, “suppose I light this match, and smoke my pipe, and shake out the dottle here in the grass – the grass might catch on fire, for it is dry like tinder; and while I snatch out the flames in front, they might evade and run behind me, and seize upon yon bush of poison oak; before I could reach it, that would have blazed up; over the bush I see a pine tree hung with moss; that too would fly in fire upon the instant to its topmost bough; and the flame of that long torch – how would the trade wind take and brandish that through the inflammable forest! I hear this dell roar in a moment with the joint voice of wind and fire, I see myself gallop for my soul, and the flying conflagration chase and outflank me through the hills; I see this pleasant forest burn for days, and the cattle roasted, and the springs dried up, and the farmer ruined, and his children cast upon the world. What a world hangs upon this moment!”

      With that he struck the match, and it missed fire.

      “Thank God!” said the traveller, and put his pipe in his pocket.

      IV. – THE SICK MAN AND THE FIREMAN

      There was once a sick man in a burning house, to whom there entered a fireman.

      “Do not save me,” said the sick man. “Save those who are strong.”

      “Will you kindly tell me why?” inquired the fireman, for he was a civil fellow.

      “Nothing could possibly be fairer,” said the sick man. “The strong should be preferred in all cases, because they are of more service in the world.”

      The fireman pondered a while, for he was a man of some philosophy. “Granted,” said he at last, as apart of the roof fell in; “but for the sake of conversation, what would you lay down as the proper service of the strong?”

      “Nothing can possibly be easier,” returned the sick man; “the proper service of the strong is to help the weak.”

      Again the fireman reflected, for there was nothing hasty about this excellent creature. “I could forgive you being sick,” he said at last, as a portion of the wall fell out, “but I cannot bear your being such a fool.” And with that he heaved up his fireman’s axe, for he was eminently just, and clove the sick man to the bed.

      V. – THE DEVIL AND THE INNKEEPER

      Once upon a time the devil stayed at an inn, where no one knew him, for they were people whose education had been neglected. He was bent on mischief, and for a time kept everybody by the ears. But at last the innkeeper set a watch upon the devil and took him in the fact.

      The innkeeper got a rope’s end.

      “Now I am going to thrash you,” said the innkeeper.

      “You have no right to be angry with me,” said the devil. “I am only the devil, and it is my nature to do wrong.”

      “Is that so?” asked the innkeeper.

      “Fact, I assure you,” said the devil.

      “You really cannot help doing ill?” asked the innkeeper.

      “Not in the smallest,” said the devil; “it would be useless cruelty to thrash a thing like me.”

      “It would indeed,” said the innkeeper.

      And he made a noose and hanged the devil.

      “There!” said the innkeeper.

      VI. – THE PENITENT

      A man met a lad weeping. “What do you weep for?” he asked.

      “I am weeping for my sins,” said the lad.

      “You must have little to do,” said the man.

      The next day they met again. Once more the lad was weeping. “Why do you weep now?” asked the man.

      “I am weeping because I have nothing to eat,” said the lad.

      “I thought it would come to that,” said the man.

      VII. – THE YELLOW PAINT

      In a certain city there lived a physician who sold yellow paint. This was of so singular a virtue that whoso was bedaubed with it from head to heel was set free from the dangers of life, and the bondage of sin, and the fear of death for ever. So the physician said in his prospectus; and so said all the citizens in the city; and there was nothing more urgent in men’s hearts than to be properly painted themselves, and nothing they took more delight in than to see others painted. There СКАЧАТЬ