Unit 5 - A Miserable, Merry Christmas
A miserable and merry Christmas? How could it be?
Christmas was coming. I wanted a pony. To make sure that my parents understood, I declared that I wanted nothing else.
"Nothing but a pony?" my father asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"Not even a pair of high boots?"
That was hard. I did want boots, but I stuck to the pony. "No, not even boots."
"Nor candy? There ought to be something to fill your stocking with, and Santa Claus can't put a pony into a stocking,"
That was true, and he couldn't lead a pony down the chimney either. But no. "All I want is a pony," I said. "If I can't have a pony, give me nothing, nothing."
On Christmas Eve I hung up my stocking along with my sisters.
The next morning my sisters and I woke up at six. Then we raced downstairs to the fireplace. And there they were, the gifts, all sorts of wonderful things, mixed-up piles of presents. Only my stocking was empty; it hung limp; not a thing in it; and under and around it -- nothing. My sisters had knelt down, each by her pile of gifts; they were crying with delight, till they looked up and saw me standing there looking so miserable. They came over to me and felt my stocking: nothing.
I don't remember whether I cried at that moment, but my sisters did. They ran with me back to my bed, and there we all cried till I became indignant. That helped some. I got up, dressed, and driving my sisters away, I went out alone into the stable, and there, all by myself, I wept. My mother came out to me and she tried to comfort me. But I wanted no comfort. She left me and went on into the house with sharp words for my father.
My sisters came to me, and I was rude. I ran away from them. I went around to the front of the house, sat down on the steps, and, the crying over, I ached. I was wronged, I was hurt. And my father must have been hurt, too, a little. I saw him looking out of the window. He was watching me or something for an hour or two, drawing back the curtain so little lest I catch him, but I saw his face, and I think I can see now the anxiety upon on it, the worried impatience.
After an hour or two, I caught sight of a man riding a pony down the street, a pony and a brand-new saddle; the most beautiful saddle I ever saw, and it was a boy's saddle. And the pony! As he drew near, I saw that the pony was really a small horse, with a black mane and tail, and one white foot and a white star on his forehead. For such a horse as that I would have given anything.
But the man came along, reading the numbers on the houses, and, as my hopes -- my impossible hopes -- rose, he looked at our door and passed by, he and the pony, and the saddle. Too much, I fell upon the steps and broke into tears. Suddenly I heard a voice.
"Say, kid," it said, "do you know a boy named Lennie Steffens?"
I looked up. It was the man on the pony, back again.
"Yes," I spluttered through my tears. "That's me."
"Well," he said, "then this is your horse. I've been looking all over for you and your house. Why don't you put your number where it can be seen?"
"Get down," I said, running out to him. I wanted to ride.
He went on saying something about "ought to have got here at seven o'clock, but--"
I hardly heard, I could scarcely wait. I was so happy, so thrilled. I rode off up the street. Such a beautiful pony. And mine! After a while I turned and trotted back to the stable. There was the family, father, mother, sisters, all working for me, all happy. They had been putting in place the tools of my new business: currycomb, brush, pitchfork -- everything, and there was hay in the loft.
But that Christmas, which my father had planned so carefully, was it the best or the worst I ever knew? He often asked me that; I never could answer as a boy. I think now that it was both. It covered the whole distance from broken-hearted misery to bursting happiness -- too fast, A grown-up could hardly have stood it.
参考译文——又悲又喜的圣诞节
这是一个又悲又喜的圣诞节，为什么这么说呢？
圣诞节快到了，我想要一匹矮马。为了确保我的父母明白这一点，我声明我不想要别的东西。
“只要一匹矮马？”我父亲问。
“是的，我只要一匹矮马。”我说。
“靴子你还想要吗？”
这真是个难题。我确实想要靴子，但我坚持要矮马。”不，靴子我不要了。”
“也不要糖果？你的长筒袜里应该要塞些东西进去的，圣诞老人可不能把矮马塞进长筒袜里呀。”
确实如此，他也不能把矮马从烟囱里牵进屋里。但是不行，“我只想要一匹矮马，”我说“如果不能给我矮马，就什么也不要给我。”
圣诞节前夕，我和姐妹们一起挂起了各自的长筒袜。
第二天早上，我和姐妹们六点钟醒来。然后我们跑下楼来到壁炉前。它们就在那里——圣诞礼物，各种各样的奇妙的东西组成的礼物堆在一起。只有我的袜子是空的，干瘪地挂在那里，里面什么也没有；在它下面和周围，也是什么都没有。我的姐妹们跪在她那堆礼物旁边，高兴得不得了，直到他们抬起头，看到我悲伤地站在那里。他们走过来摸我的袜子：什么也没有。
我不记得那一刻我是否哭了，但我的姐妹们哭了。她们和我一起跑回我的床上，在那里我们都哭了，直到我变得愤怒。她们对我的同情徒添了我的愤怒。我站起来，穿好衣服，把我的姐妹们赶走，独自一人走到马厩里，一个人哭了起来。我母亲走到我面前，试图安慰我。但我不想得到安慰。她离开了我，走进屋里，对我父亲说了几句责怪的话。
我的姐妹们来找我，我表现的很粗鲁，躲开了她们。我走到房子前面，坐在台阶上，痛哭了一场。我被错怪了，我伤心了。我父亲一定也很伤心。我看见他朝窗外看。他盯着我看了一两个小时，把窗帘拉得很小，以免被我看到。但我看到了他的脸，我想我现在也可以看到他当时脸上焦虑的表情。
一两个小时后，我看见一个人骑着一匹马沿街走来，一匹矮马和一个崭新的马鞍。这是我见过的最漂亮的马鞍，是一个男孩的马鞍。还有矮马！当他走近时，我看到那匹矮马真的是一匹小马，有着黑色的鬃毛和尾巴，一只白色的脚，前额上有一颗白色的星星。为了得到这样一匹马，我什么都愿意放弃。
但是那人走了过来，读着房子上的数字，当我的希望——我不可能的希望——升起时，他看着我们的门，从我们身边走过，他和矮马，还有马鞍。我实在是受不了了。我趴在台阶上，哭了起来。突然我听到一个声音。
“喂，孩子，”他说，“你认识一个叫伦尼·斯蒂芬斯的男孩吗？”
我抬起头来。是骑矮马的那个人，又回来了。
“是的，”我眼泪汪汪地说那是我。”
“好吧，”他说，“那么这就是你的马。我一直在到处找你和你的房子。你为什么不把你的门牌号挂在能看得见的地方？”
“下来，”我说，跑向他。我想骑马。
他接着说：“我应该七点钟就到这里的，但是——”
我简直等不及了，几乎听不进去他说的话。我太高兴了，太激动了。我骑马沿街而去。多么漂亮的矮马，而且是属于我的！过了一会儿，我转身小跑回到马厩。父亲，母亲，姐妹都给我帮忙，一家人都很快乐。他们已经把我从事新“工作”的工具准备好了：马梳、刷子、干草叉——所有的东西，包括草料棚里的干草。
但这个我父亲精心策划的圣诞节，是我所经历的最好的还是最坏的圣诞节？父亲经常问我这个问题。我小时候从来不回答，现在我想两者都有——这是个又悲又喜，苦乐参半的圣诞节！它让我经历了从令人心碎的痛苦到瞬间涌上心头的幸福感的整个过程——这一切都来的这么突然，恐怕一个成年人也难以忍受。
注：博主基于百度翻译校译而成。
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