English 版 (精华区)
发信人: vincent (GiGi), 信区: English
标 题: The Diamond as Big as the Ritz
发信站: 大红花的国度 (Tue Jun 13 09:58:56 2000), 转信
发信人: tanso (哑哑·卖身求荣), 信区: EnglishWorld
标 题: THE DIAMOND AS BIG AS THE RITZ (1)
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Sat Jan 1 23:42:48 2000)
THE DIAMOND AS BIG AS THE RITZ
by
F. Scott Fitzgerald
I
JOHN T. UNGER came from a family that had been well known in Hades--a small
town on the Mississippi River--for several generations.
John's father had held the amateur golf championship through many a heated
contest; Mrs. Unger was known "from hot-box to hot-bed," as the local phrase
went, for her political addresses; and young John T. Unger, who had just
turned sixteen, had danced
all the latest dances from New York before he put on long trousers. And now,
for a certain time, he was to be away from home. That respect for a New
England education which is the bane of all provincial places, which drains
them yearly of their most
promising young men, had seized upon his parents. Nothing would suit them but
that he should go to St. Midas' School near Boston-- Hades was too small to
hold their darling and gifted son.
Now in Hades--as you know if you ever have been there--the names of the more
fashionable preparatory schools and colleges mean very little. The
inhabitants have been so long out of the world that, though they make a show
of keeping up to date in dress
and manners and literature, they depend to a great extent on hearsay, and a
function that in Hades would be considered elaborate would doubtless be
hailed by a Chicago beef-princess as "perhaps a little tacky."
John T. Unger was on the eve of departure. Mrs. Unger, with maternal fatuity,
packed his trunks full of linen suits and electric fans, and Mr. Unger
presented his son with an asbestos pocket-book stuffed with money.
"Remember, you are always welcome here," he said. "You can be sure boy, that
we'll keep the home fires burning."
"I know," answered John huskily.
"Don't forget who you are and where you come from," continued his father
proudly, "and you can do nothing to harm you. You are an Unger--from Hades."
So the old man and the young shook hands and John walked away with tears
streaming from his eyes. Ten minutes later he had passed outside the city
limits, and he stopped to glance back for the last time. Over the gates the
old-fashioned Victorian motto
seemed strangely attractive to him. His father had tried time and time again
to have it changed to something with a little more push and verve about it,
such as "Hades--Your Opportunity," or else a plain "Welcome" sign set over a
hearty handshake
pricked out in electric lights. The old motto was a little depressing, Mr.
Unger had thought--but now....
So John took his look and then set his face resolutely toward his
destination. And, as he turned away, the lights of Hades against the sky
seemed full of a warm and passionate beauty.
St. Midas' School is half an hour from Boston in a Rolls-Pierce motorcar. The
actual distance will never be known, for no one, except John T. Unger, had
ever arrived there save in a Rolls-Pierce and probably no one ever will
again. St. Midas' is the
most expensive and the most exclusive boys' preparatory school in the world.
John's first two years there passed pleasantly. The fathers of all the boys
were money-kings and John spent his summers visiting at fashionable resorts.
While he was very fond of all the boys he visited, their fathers struck him
as being much of a
piece, and in his boyish way he often wondered at their exceeding sameness.
When he told them where his home was they would ask jovially, "Pretty hot
down there?" and John would muster a faint smile and answer, "It certainly
is." His response would
have been heartier had they not all made this joke--at best varying it with,
"Is it hot enough for you down there?" which he hated just as much.
In the middle of his second year at school, a quiet, handsome boy named Percy
Washington had been put in John's form. The newcomer was pleasant in his
manner and exceedingly well dressed even for St. Midas', but for some reason
he kept aloof from the
other boys. The only person with whom he was intimate was John T. Unger, but
even to John he was entirely uncommunicative concerning his home or his
family. That he was wealthy went without saying, but beyond a few such
deductions John knew little of
his friend, so it promised rich confectionery for his curiosity when Percy
invited him to spend the summer at his home "in the West." He accepted,
without hesitation.
It was only when they were in the train that Percy became, for the first
time, rather communicative. One day while they were eating lunch in the
dining-car and discussing the imperfect characters of several of the boys at
school, Percy suddenly changed
his tone and made an abrupt remark.
"My father," he said, "is by far the richest man in the world."
"Oh," said John, politely. He could think of no answer to make to this
confidence. He considered "That's very nice," but it sounded hollow and was
on the point of saying, "Really?" but refrained since it would seem to
question Percy's statement. And
such an astounding statement could scarcely be questioned.
"By far the richest," repeated Percy.
"I was reading in the World Almanac," began John, "that there was one man in
America with an income of over five million a year and four men with incomes
of over three million a year, and--"
"Oh, they're nothing." Percy's mouth was a half-moon of scorn. "Catchpenny
capitalists, financial small-fry, petty merchants and money-lenders. My
father could buy them out and not know he'd done it."
"But how does he--"
"Why haven't they put down his income tax? Because he doesn't pay any. At
least he pays a little one--but he doesn't pay any on his real income."
"He must be very rich," said John simply. "I'm glad. I like very rich people.
"The richer a fella is, the better I like him." There was a look of
passionate frankness upon his dark face. "I visited the Schnlitzer-Murphys
last Easter. Vivian Schnlitzer-Murphy had rubies as big as hen's eggs, and
sapphires that were like globes
with lights inside them--"
"I love jewels," agreed Percy enthusiastically. "Of course I wouldn't want
any one at school to know about it, but I've got quite a collection myself I
used to collect them instead of stamps."
"And diamonds," continued John eagerly. "The Schnlitzer-Murphys had diamonds
as big as walnuts--"
"That's nothing." Percy had leaned forward and dropped his voice to a low
whisper. "That's nothing at all. My father has a diamond bigger than the
Ritz-Carlton Hotel."
--
tanso最大的愿望,就是在明年夏天,和一个穿着
裙子的女孩吃饭……
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