Unit 2B - My Bank Account
My Bank Account
Stephen Leacock
When I go into a bank I get frightened. The clerks frighten me; the desks frighten me; the sight of the money frightens me; everything frightens me.
The moment I pass through the doors of a bank and attempt to do business there, I become an irresponsible fool.
I knew this before, but my salary had been raised to fifty dollars a month and I felt that the bank was the only place for it.
So I walked unsteadily in and looked round at the clerks with fear. I had an idea that a person who was about to open an account must necessarily consult the manager.
I went up to a place marked "Accountant". The accountant was a tall, cool devil. The very sight of him frightened me. My voice sounded as if it came from the grave.
"Can I see the manager?" I said, and added solemnly, "alone." I don't know why I said "alone".
"Certainly," said the accountant, and brought him.
The manager was a calm, serious man. I held my fifty-six dollars, pressed I together in a ball, in my pocket.
"Are you the manager?" I said. God knows I didn't doubt it.
"Yes," he said.
"Can I see you," I asked, "alone?" I didn't want to say "alone" again, but without this word the question seemed useless.
The manager looked at me with some anxiety. He felt that I had a terrible secret to tell.
"Come in here," he said, and led the way to a private room. He turned the key in the lock.
"We are safe from interruption here," he said. "Sit down."
We both sat down and looked at each other. I found no voice to speak.
"You are one of Pinkerton's detectives, I suppose," he said.
My mysterious manner had made him think that I was a detective. I knew what he was thinking, and it made me worse.
"No，not from Pinkerton's," I said, seeming to mean that I was from a rival agency.
"To tell the truth," I went on, as if someone had urged me to tell lies about it, "I am not a detective at all. I have come to open an account. I intend to keep all my money in this bank."
The manager looked relieved but still serious; he felt sure now that I was a very rich man, perhaps a son of Baron Rothschild.
"A large account, I suppose," he said.
"Fairly large," I whispered. "I intend to place in this bank the sum of fifty-six dollars now and fifty dollars a month regularly."
The manager got up and opened the door. He called to the accountant.
"Mr. Montgomery," he said, unkindly loud, "this gentleman is opening an account. He will place fifty-six dollars in it. Good morning."
I stood up.
A big iron door stood open at the side of the room.
"Good morning," I said, and walked into the safe.
"Come out," said the manager coldly, and showed me the other way.
I went up to the accountant's position and pushed the ball of money at him with a quick, sudden movement as if I were doing a sort of trick.
My face was terribly pale.
"Here," I said, "put it in my account." The sound of my voice seemed to mean, "Let us do this painful thing while we feel that we want to do it."
He took the money and gave it to another clerk.
He made me write the sum on a bit of paper and sign my name in a book. I no longer knew what I was doing. The bank seemed to swim before my eyes.
"Is it in the account?" I asked in a hollow, shaking voice.
"It is," said the accountant.
"Then I want to draw a check."
My idea was to draw out six dollars of it for present use. Someone gave me a checkbook and someone else seemed to think that I was a man who owned millions of dollars, but was not feeling very well. I wrote something on the check and pushed it towards the clerk. He looked at it.
"What! Are you drawing it all out again?" he asked in surprise. Then I realized that I had written fifty-six dollars instead of six. I was too upset to reason now. I had a feeling that it was impossible to explain the thing. All the clerks had stopped writing to look at me.
Bold and careless in my misery, I made a decision.
"Yes, the whole thing."
"You wish to draw your money out of the bank?"
"Every cent of it."
"Are you not going to put any more in the account?" said the clerk, astonished.
"Never."
A foolish hope came to me that they might think something had insulted me while I was writing the check and that I had changed my mind.
I made a miserable attempt to look like a man with a fearfully quick temper.
The clerk prepared to pay the money.
"How will you have it?" he said.
"What?"
"How will you have it?"
"Oh" 一I understood his meaning and answered without even trying to think一"in fifty-dollar notes."
He gave me a fifty-dollar note.
"And the six?" he asked coldly.
"In six dollar notes," I said.
He gave me six dollars and I rushed out.
As the big door swung behind me I heard the sound of a roar of laughter that went up to the roof of the bank. Since then I use a bank no more. I keep my money in my pocket and my savings in silver dollars in a sock.
参考译文——我的银行账户
我的银行账户
史蒂芬·里考克
我走进银行的时候，我感到恐惧。银行职员让我感到恐惧，银行的柜台桌子让我感到恐惧，看到钞票让我感到恐惧，所有的一切都让我感到恐惧。
我穿过银行那一道道大门准备去办理业务时，我就成了一个颠三倒四的傻瓜。
这点我以前就知道，但是我的月薪已经涨到了50美元，我认为银行是唯一能存放这些钱的地方。
于是我摇摇晃晃地走了进去，提心吊胆地看着周围的职员们。我想到一个人要想开账户，就有必要咨询一下经理。
我向一个标有“会计”字样的地方走去，会计师是一个高大、冷酷的家伙。 一看到他我就心惊胆颤，我的声音像是从坟墓里传出来一样。
“我能见经理吗?”我问他，然后很严肃地加了一句“单独”。我不明白我为什么要说“单独”。
“当然可以”会计师说完便找来了经理。
经理是一个镇定、严肃的人。我的手插在兜里，把56美元攥成一个纸团儿。
“你是经理吗？”我说。其实我对此毫不怀疑。
“是的。”他说。
“我能见你吗？”我问道，"单独？”我不想再说一遍“单独”了，但是没有这个词，这个问题似乎毫无意义。
经理有些焦虑地看着我，他感觉我要告诉他一个可怕的秘密。
“到这儿来。”他说。然后领我进了一个私人房间。他转动钥匙，锁上门。
“在这儿没人会打扰我们，”他说，“请坐。”
我们两个都坐了下来，相互注视着对方，我紧张得说不出话来。
“我猜，你是平克顿侦探事务所的私人侦探。”他说。
我神秘的举止使他认为我是一个侦探。我知道他在想什么，这使我感觉更紧张。
“不，我不是平克顿侦探事务所的。”我说。这似乎暗示着我来自与之竞争的另一家机构。
“说实话，”我继续讲，好像有人逼着我说假话似的，“我根本就不是一个侦探，我来是要开个账户。我打算把我所有的钱都存进这家银行。”
经理看起来松了一口气，但仍然很严肃；他现在确定我是一个很有钱的人，或许是巴伦·罗斯柴尔德的后代。
“我猜是一个大户头。”他说。
“相当大，”我低声说，“我打算现在在这家银行存56美元，然后每月定期存50美元。”
经理站起身打开门，他把会计师喊来了。
“蒙哥马利先生，”他极不友善地大声说道，“这位先生打算开个户头，他要存入56美元。再见。”
我站了起来。
房间一侧的一扇大铁门敞开着。
“再见。”我说。然后走进了保险库。
“出来。”经理冷冷地说道，然后指给我另一个方向。
我走到会计师窗口，迅速而又突然地把已揉成团的钞票推给他，好像在耍什么花样。
我的脸煞白。
“这儿，”我说，“把它存入我的户头。”我的声音似乎在说“让我们赶紧结束这件让人痛苦的事情吧。”
他拿起钱，递给了另一个职员。
他让我在一张小纸片上写下金额并在一个账簿上签名。我已经不知道自己在做什么，银行似乎在我眼前旋转起来。
“存入账户了？”我用空洞发颤的声音问道。
“是的。”会计师说。
“我要提取一张支票。”
我是想取出6美元来应付目前的花销。有人给我一本支票簿，另外有人似乎认为我是一个百万富翁，但现在心情不好。我在支票上写了东西，把它推给了银行职员。他看了看。
“什么！你又要全部取出？”他惊讶地问。然后我意识到我写的是56美元而不是6美元。 我现在心烦意乱，无法思考了。我感觉我没办法解释清楚这件事。所有职员都停下笔来看我。
痛苦中我鲁莽地做了一个决定。
“是的，所有的。”
“你希望取出所有的钱？”
“一分也不剩”
“你不打算再往账户里存钱了？”职员惊讶地问。
“再也不了”
我愚蠢地希望他们也许认为我在填写支票时觉得受了侮辱而改变主意。
我痛苦地试着让自己看起来是个脾气非常急躁的人。
职员准备取钱给我。
“你想怎么取？”他问。
“什么？”
“你打算怎么取？”
“哦”——我明白了他的意思，不假思索地脱口而出——“50美元的纸币。”
他给了我50美元。
“那6美元呢？”他冷冷地问。
“6美元的纸币。”我说。
他给了我6美元，我冲了出去。
大门在身后摇摆着，我听到一阵哄堂大笑，直冲屋顶。从那时起，我再也没去过银行。我把钱放在衣兜里，攒的银币放在袜子里。
Key Words:
frighten ['fraitən]
vt. 使惊吓，惊恐
vi. 惊吓
grave [greiv]
n. 坟墓，墓穴
adj. 严肃的，严重的，庄
consult [kən'sʌlt]
v. 商讨，向 ... 请教，查阅
frightened ['fraitnd]
adj. 受惊的，受恐吓的
irresponsible [.iri'spɔnsəbl]
adj. 不负责任的，不可靠的，没有承担能力的
accountant [ə'kauntənt]
n. 会计人员
detective [di'tektiv]
adj. 侦探的
n. 侦探
rival ['raivəl]
n. 对手，同伴，竞争者
adj. 竞争的
anxiety [æŋ'zaiəti]
n. 焦虑，担心，渴望
interruption [.intə'rʌpʃən]
n. 打岔，中断
intend [in'tend]
vt. 想要，计划，打算，意指
mysterious [mis'tiəriəs]
adj. 神秘的，不可思议的
relieved [ri'li:vd]
adj. 放心的，放松的，免除的
movement ['mu:vmənt]
n. 活动，运动，移动，[音]乐章
accountant [ə'kauntənt]
n. 会计人员
hollow ['hɔləu]
n. 洞，窟窿，山谷
adj. 空的，虚伪的，
intend [in'tend]
vt. 想要，计划，打算，意指
careless ['kɛəlis]
adj. 粗心的，疏忽的
n. 不关心的，粗心
misery ['mizəri]
n. 痛苦，悲惨的境遇，苦难
astonished [əs'tɔniʃt]
adj. 惊讶的 动词astonish的过去式和过去分词
check [tʃek]
n. 检查，支票，账单，制止，阻止物，检验标准，方格图案
checkbook ['tʃekbuk]
n. 支票簿
upset [ʌp'set]
adj. 心烦的，苦恼的，不安的
v. 推翻，
bold [bəuld]
adj. 大胆的，粗体的，醒目的，无礼的，陡峭的
impossible [im'pɔsəbl]
adj. 不可能的，做不到的
adj.
decision [di'siʒən]
n. 决定，决策
sock [sɔk]
n. 短袜
vt. 给 ... 穿短袜
miserable ['mizərəbl]
adj. 悲惨的，痛苦的，贫乏的
temper ['tempə]
n. 脾气，性情
参考资料：
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