高中阅读教程IIA Lesson 01

Lesson 1

Is He Living or Is He Dead?

他是活是死？

Mark Twain

I was spending the month of March 1892 in a seaside town in the south of France. This was a nice place, with beautiful sunshine, the pleasant air and the shining blue sea. This place is quiet, simple, restful（宁静的）, and natural. As a rule, the rich do not come there. Now and then a rich man comes, and I soon got acquainted with one of these. I will call him Smith. One day, in one hotel, while we were having breakfast, he called suddenly.

“Quick! Look at the man going out at the door. Look at him carefully.”

“Why?”

“Do you know who he is?”

“Yes. He spent several days here before you came. He is an old, retired（退休的）, and very rich silk producer, they say, and I guess he is alone in the world, for he always looks sad, and doesn’t talk with anybody.” After that he said nothing more about that man.

About ten that evening I ran across Smith, and he invited me up to his room. It was a comfortable place, with its comfortable chairs, its beautiful lamps, and its friendly open fire. After chatting（聊天）for some time, Smith said:

“I’ll tell you a curious history. It has been a secret for many years--a secret between me and three others; but I am going to tell it now. Are you comfortable?”

“Perfectly（完全地）. Go on.”

Here follows what he told me:

“A long time ago I was a young artist--a very young artist, in fact--and I wandered about the country parts of France, drawing here and there. I was soon afterwards（后来）joined by a couple of darling young Frenchmen who were at the same kind of thing that I was doing. Although we were poor, we were happy. Claude and Carl --these are the names of those boys.

“At last we were penniless in a village, and an artist as poor as ourselves took us in and saved us from starving（饿死）--Francois Millet--”

“What! The great Francois Millet?”

“Great? He wasn’t any greater than we were, then. He wasn’t famous at all, even in his own village; and he was so poor that he hadn’t anything to feed us on but turnips（萝卜）, and even the turnips failed us sometimes. We four became fast friends. We painted together. We had lovely times together; but, oh! How hungry we were now and then!

“For a little over two years this went on. At last, one day, Claude said:

“‘Boys, we’ve come to the end. Do you understand that? --absolutely to the end. We have no more money and we can not borrow any.’

“We realized that our circumstances（境况）were desperate（令人绝望的）, now. There was a long silence. Finally, Millet said with a sigh:

“‘We have to think of a way, lads（伙计）.’

“There was no reply. Carl got up, and walked nervously up and down a while, then said:

“‘It’s a shame! Look at these paintings. They are as good pictures as anybody in Europe paints.’

“‘They are so nice that, if a well-known name were attached（附上）to them they would sell at splendid（极好的）prices. Isn’t it so?’

“‘Certainly it is. Nobody doubts that.’

“‘But--I’m not joking--isn’t it so?’

“‘Why, of course it’s so--and we are not joking. What does that matter to us?’

“‘In this way, comrades--we’ll attach a famous name to them!’

“The lively conversation stopped. The faces were turned upon Carl. What sort of riddle might this be? Where was a famous name to be borrowed? And who was to borrow it?

“Carl sat down, and said:

“‘Now, I have a perfectly serious thing to suggest. I think it is the only way to keep us out of the trouble, and I believe it to be a perfectly sure way. I believe my project（方案）will make us all rich.”

“‘Rich! You’re mad.’

“‘No, I’m not.’ 

“‘Yes, you are. What do you call rich?’

“‘A hundred thousand francs（法郎）each.’

“‘He is mad. I knew it.’

“‘Yes, he is. Carl, hunger has been too much for you, and--’

“‘Shut up!’ said Millet, very seriously, ‘and let the boy say what he wants to say. Now, then--tell us about your project, Carl. What is it?’

“‘Well, first, I will ask you to note this fact that many great artists have never been acknowledged（承认）until after he was starved and dead. My project is this: we must cast lots（抓阄）--one of us must die.’

“The remark was so unexpected（意想不到）that we almost forgot to jump. Then he went on again with his project:

“‘Yes, one of us must die, to save the others--and himself. We will cast lots. The one chosen shall be famous, all of us shall be rich. Here is the idea. During the next three months the one who is to die shall paint a great many pictures, no fewer than fifty a day. All of them must be signed with his name--they’re the things that sell, you know, and are collected at astonishing prices for the world’s museums, after the great man is gone. We’ll have a lot of them ready! And all that time the rest of us will be busy making a name for him--preparations（准备）for the coming event（事件）, you know. And when everything is just right, we’ll suddenly inform（告知）the world that he has dies and have the great funeral. You get the idea?’

“‘N--o; at least, not qu--’

“‘Not quite? Don’t you see? The man doesn’t really die; he changes his name and disappears; we bury a dummy（假人）, and cry over it, with all the world to help. And I--’

“But he wasn’t allowed to finish. Everybody broke out into applause（鼓掌）; and all jumped up and jumped about the room with joy. For hours we talked over the great plan, without ever feeling hungry. At last, when all the details had been well arranged, we cast lots and Millet was elected（选中）--elected to die, as we called it. 

“Next morning, early, the three of us set out after breakfast--on foot, of course. Each of us carried a dozen of Millet’s small pictures. Carl went to Paris, where he would start the work of building up Millet’s name. Claude and I went to other places.

“Now, it will surprise you to know what an easy and comfortable thing we had. I walked two days before I began business. Then I began to draw a country house near a big town--because I saw the owner standing on an upper（上面的）floor. He came down to look on--I thought he would. I worked swiftly（很快地）, intending to keep him interested. Finally the man spoke up, and said I was a master!

“I put down my brush, took one of Millet’s paintings out, and pointed to the signature（签名）in the corner. I said, proudly:

“‘I suppose you recognize that? Well, he taught me!’

“The man was silent. I said:

“‘You don’t mean to say that you don’t know the signature of Francois Millet!’

“Of course he didn’t know; but he said:

“‘No! Why, it is Millet’s, sure enough! Of course I recognize it now.’

“Next, he wanted to buy it; but I said that although I wasn’t rich I wasn’t that poor. However, at last, I let him have it for eight hundred francs.”

“Eight hundred!”

“Yes. Millet would have sold it for the price of a nice meal. Yes, I got eight hundred francs for that little thing. I wish I could get it back for eighty thousand. But that time’s gone by. I made a very nice picture of that man’s house and I sold it to him for a hundred. I sent the eight hundred francs straight to Millet from that town and started out again next day.“But I didn’t walk--no. I rode. I have ridden ever since. I sold one picture every day, and never tried to sell two. I always said to my customer:

“‘I am a fool to sell a picture of Francois Millet’s at all, for that man is not going to live three months, and when he dies his pictures can’t be had for any money.’

“Carl was soon in Paris and he did things with a clever hand. He made friends with the newspapermen, and got Millet’s condition reported to England and all over the continent（大陆）, and America, and everywhere.“At the end of six weeks from the start, we three met in Paris. We stopped selling Millet’s pictures. Everything was so ripe, that we saw that it would be a mistake not to strike right away, without waiting any longer. So we wrote Millet to go to bed and try to die in ten days if he could get ready.

“We found that among us we had sold eighty-five small pictures, and had got sixty-nine thousand francs. 

“The next day Claude and I went off to nurse Millet through his last days and send daily news to Carl in Paris to be published（发表）in the papers. The sad end came at last, and Carl was there in time to help in the funeral.

“You remember that great funeral, and what a stir（轰动）it made all over the world. We four carried the coffin（棺材）, and would allow none to help. And we were right about that, because it hadn’t anything in it but a dummy, and anyone else would have found out. Yes, we same old four carried the coffin--”

“Which four?”

“We four--for Millet helped to carry his own coffin. In disguise（伪装）, you know.” 

“Astonishing!”

“But true. Well, you remember how the pictures went up. Money? We didn’t know what to do with it. There’s a man in Paris today who owns seventy Millet pictures. He paid us two million francs for them.”

“It is a wonderful history, perfectly wonderful! What became of Millet?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“I can.”

“Do you remember the man I called your to look at in the dining room today? That was Francois Millet. For once they didn’t starve a genius（天才）to death and then put into other pockets the rewards he should have had himself.”

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Total Words: 1695