ERNEST HEMINGWAY - Premium Edition. Ernest Hemingway

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СКАЧАТЬ looked at me. “I say,” she said, “is Robert Cohn going on this trip?”

      “Yes. Why?”

      “Don’t you think it will be a bit rough on him?”

      “Why should it?”

      “Who did you think I went down to San Sebastian with?”

      “Congratulations,” I said.

      We walked along.

      “What did you say that for?”

      “I don’t know. What would you like me to say?”

      We walked along and turned a corner.

      “He behaved rather well, too. He gets a little dull.”

      “Does he?”

      “I rather thought it would be good for him.”

      “You might take up social service.”

      “Don’t be nasty.”

      “I won’t.”

      “Didn’t you really know?”

      “No,” I said. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

      “Do you think it will be too rough on him?”

      “That’s up to him,” I said. “Tell him you’re coming. He can always not come.”

      “I’ll write him and give him a chance to pull out of it.”

      I did not see Brett again until the night of the 24th of June.

      “Did you hear from Cohn?”

      “Rather. He’s keen about it.”

      “My God!”

      “I thought it was rather odd myself.”

      “Says he can’t wait to see me.”

      “Does he think you’re coming alone?”

      “No. I told him we were all coming down together. Michael and all.”

      “He’s wonderful.”

      “Isn’t he?”

      They expected their money the next day. We arranged to meet at Pamplona. They would go directly to San Sebastian and take the train from there. We would all meet at the Montoya in Pamplona. If they did not turn up on Monday at the latest we would go on ahead up to Burguete in the mountains, to start fishing. There was a bus to Burguete. I wrote out an itinerary so they could follow us.

      Bill and I took the morning train from the Gare d’Orsay. It was a lovely day, not too hot, and the country was beautiful from the start. We went back into the diner and had breakfast. Leaving the dining-car I asked the conductor for tickets for the first service.

      “Nothing until the fifth.”

      “What’s this?”

      There were never more than two servings of lunch on that train, and always plenty of places for both of them.

      “They’re all reserved,” the dining-car conductor said. “There will be a fifth service at three-thirty.”

      “This is serious,” I said to Bill.

      “Give him ten francs.”

      “Here,” I said. “We want to eat in the first service.”

      The conductor put the ten francs in his pocket.

      “Thank you,” he said. “I would advise you gentlemen to get some sandwiches. All the places for the first four services were reserved at the office of the company.”

      “You’ll go a long way, brother,” Bill said to him in English. “I suppose if I’d given you five francs you would have advised us to jump off the train.”

      “Comment?”

      “Go to hell!” said Bill. “Get the sandwiches made and a bottle of wine. You tell him, Jake.”

      “And send it up to the next car.” I described where we were.

      In our compartment were a man and his wife and their young son.

      “I suppose you’re Americans, aren’t you?” the man asked. “Having a good trip?”

      “Wonderful,” said Bill.

      “That’s what you want to do. Travel while you’re young. Mother and I always wanted to get over, but we had to wait a while.”

      “You could have come over ten years ago, if you’d wanted to,” the wife said. “What you always said was: ‘See America first!’ I will say we’ve seen a good deal, take it one way and another.”

      “Say, there’s plenty of Americans on this train,” the husband said. “They’ve got seven cars of them from Dayton, Ohio. They’ve been on a pilgrimage to Rome, and now they’re going down to Biarritz and Lourdes.”

      “So, that’s what they are. Pilgrims. Goddam Puritans,” Bill said.

      “What part of the States you boys from?”

      “Kansas City,” I said. “He’s from Chicago.”

      “You both going to Biarritz?”

      “No. We’re going fishing in Spain.”

      “Well, I never cared for it, myself. There’s plenty that do out where I come from, though. We got some of the best fishing in the State of Montana. I’ve been out with the boys, but I never cared for it any.”

      “Mighty little fishing you did on them trips,” his wife said.

      He winked at us.

      “You know how the ladies are. If there’s a jug goes along, or a case of beer, they think it’s hell and damnation.”

      “That’s the way men are,” his wife said to us. She smoothed her comfortable lap. “I voted against prohibition to please him, and because I like a little beer in the house, and then he talks that way. It’s a wonder they ever find any one to marry them.”

      “Say,” said Bill, “do you know that gang of Pilgrim Fathers have cornered the dining-car until half past three this afternoon?”

      “How do you mean? They can’t do a thing like that.”

      “You try and get seats.”

      “Well, mother, it looks as though we better go back and get another breakfast.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ