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安徒生童話故事第121篇：風(fēng)暴把招牌換了The Storm Shakes the Sh
引導(dǎo)語：丹麥著名作家安徒生的童話故事 《風(fēng)暴把招牌換了》，大家是否閱讀學(xué)習(xí)過呢?下面是小編整理的中英文版本的，歡迎大家閱讀!
很久以前，外祖父還是一個很小的孩子，他那時穿著一條紅褲子和一件紅上衣，腰間纏著一條帶子，帽子上插著一根羽毛——因為在他小時候，如果孩子們要想穿得挺漂亮，他們就得有這種打扮，跟現(xiàn)在完全不同。街上常常有人游行——這種游行我們現(xiàn)在看不到了，因為它們太舊，已經(jīng)被廢除了。雖然如此，聽聽外祖父講講有關(guān)游行的故事，還是蠻有趣的。
在那個時候，當(dāng)鞋匠們轉(zhuǎn)到另一個同業(yè)公會去而要遷移他們的招牌的時候，那的確是值得一看的一個場面。他們的綢旗子在空中飄蕩，旗子上繪著一只大鞋子和一個雙頭鷹。頂小的伙計們捧著那個“歡迎杯”和公會的箱子，他們的襯衫上飄著紅的和白的緞帶。年長的伙計們則拿著劍，劍頭上插著一個檸檬。此外還有一個完整的樂隊。他們最漂亮的一件樂器是那件叫做“鳥”的東西。外祖父把它叫做“頂上有一個新月、上面掛著各種叮叮當(dāng)當(dāng)?shù)臇|西的棍子”——全套的土耳其噪樂。這個棍子被高高地擎在空中，前后搖晃著，發(fā)出叮叮當(dāng)當(dāng)?shù)捻懧晛怼．?dāng)太陽照在它上面那些金、銀和黃銅做的東西的時候，你的眼睛就會花起來。
行列的前面是一個丑角。他穿著一件用各種不同顏色的補釘縫的衣服，臉上抹得漆黑，頭上戴著許多鈴，像一匹拉雪橇的馬。他把他的棒子捅到人群中去，弄出一片嘈雜的聲音而不傷人。大家你推我擠，有的要向后退，有的要向前涌。男孩和女孩站不穩(wěn)，倒到溝里去了;老太太們用手肘亂推，板起面孔，還要罵人。這個人大笑，那個人閑扯。臺階上是人，窗子上也是人，連屋頂上都是人。太陽在照著，雖然下了一點小雨——這對于農(nóng)人說來是很好的。如果說大家全身打得透濕，那么鄉(xiāng)下人倒要認為這是一件喜事呢。
外祖父多么會講故事啊!他小的時候，曾經(jīng)興高采烈地親眼看過這種偉大的場面。同業(yè)公會最老的會員總要到臺上演講一番。臺上掛著招牌，而且演講辭照例是韻文，好像是由詩人做的詩似的——事實上，也確是詩，因為它們是三個人的集體創(chuàng)作，而他們?yōu)榱艘堰@篇文章寫好，事先還喝了一大碗混合酒呢。大家對這番演講大大地喝彩了一番。不過，那位五角爬上臺、模仿這位演說專家的時候，大家的喝彩聲就變得更大了。丑角把一個傻瓜的角色表演得非常精彩。他用燒酒的杯子喝蜜酒①。然后他就把杯子向群眾中扔去，讓眾人把它接住。外祖父曾經(jīng)有過這樣一個杯子。它是由一個泥水匠搶到手然后送給他的。這樣的場面真有趣。這樣，新同業(yè)公會就掛起了飾滿花朵和綠色花圈的新會徽。
“一個人不管到了多大年紀(jì)，總不會忘記這種場面的，”外祖父說。他的確忘記不了，雖然他在一生中見過許多大世面，而且還可以講出來。不過最好玩的是聽他講京城里遷移招牌的故事。
外祖父小時候，同爸爸媽媽到那兒去過一次。他以前從來沒有到這國家的首都去過。街上擠滿了那么多人，他真以為大家正在舉行遷移招牌的儀式呢，而這兒有那么多的招牌要遷移!如果把它們掛在屋里而不掛在屋外的話，恐怕要一百個房間才裝得下。裁縫店門口掛著種種衣服的圖樣，表示能把人改裝成為粗人或細人。煙草店的招牌上畫著可愛的小孩在抽著雪茄煙，好像真有其事似的。有的招牌上畫著牛油、咸魚、牧師的衣領(lǐng)和棺材;此外還有許多只寫著說明和預(yù)告的招牌。一個人可以在這些街上跑一整天，把這些圖畫看個夠。這樣他就可以知道住在這些屋子里的是什么人，因為他們都把自己的招牌掛出來了。外祖父說，能夠知道一個大城市里面的居民是些什么人，這本身就有教育意義。
當(dāng)外祖父親到城里的時候，招牌的情況就是這樣。這是他親口告訴我的，而且他“耳朵后面并沒有一個騙子”——當(dāng)他想騙我們的時候，媽媽常常說這一句話。他現(xiàn)在的樣子看起來很值得相信。
他到京城去的頭一天晚上，起了一陣可怕的風(fēng)暴。像這樣的風(fēng)暴，人們在報紙上過去還不曾讀到過，人們在自己的經(jīng)驗中也從來沒有碰到過。瓦片在天空中亂飛;所有的木柵欄都吹倒了;是的，有一把手車為了要救自己的命，就在街上自由行動起來。空中充滿了呼嘯聲，搖撼聲。這真是一場可怕的大風(fēng)暴。運河里的水跑到岸上來了，因為它不知道應(yīng)該跑到什么地方去才好。風(fēng)暴在掃過城市的上空，把許多煙囪都帶走了;不少古老的、雄偉的教堂尖塔必須彎下腰來，而從那時起就再也沒有直起來過。
在那位年高德功的消防隊長的門口有一個哨房——這位隊長總是跟著最后的那架救火機一起出勤的。風(fēng)暴對于這座小哨房也不留情;它把它連根拔起，吹在街上亂滾。說來也奇怪，它穩(wěn)穩(wěn)地站著，立在一個卑微的木匠門口。這個木匠在上次大火時曾經(jīng)救出三條命，但是這個哨房卻沒有考慮這件事情。
一位剃頭師傅的招牌——一個大黃銅盆——也被吹走了。它直接落到司法顧問官的窗洞里。鄰近所有的人都說，這幾乎可算作惡作劇，因為他們像顧問官的最親密的朋友一樣，都把顧問官的夫人叫“剃刀”。她是那么銳利，她知道別人的事情比別人自己知道的多。
一塊畫著于鰭魚的招牌，飛到一位在報紙上寫文章的人的門口。這是風(fēng)兒開的一個不高明的玩笑;它忘記了，它不應(yīng)該跟一個在報紙上寫文章的人開玩笑，因為他是他自己報紙的大王——他自己的意見也是這樣。
一只風(fēng)信雞飛到對面的屋頂上去，在那兒停下來，像一件最糟糕的惡作劇——鄰人們都這樣說。
一個箍桶匠的桶死釘在“仕女服裝店”的招牌底下。
一個飯館的菜單，原來是鑲在一個粗架子里，掛在門上的，現(xiàn)在被暴風(fēng)吹到一個誰也不去的戲院門口。這真是一個可笑的節(jié)目單——“蘿卜湯和包餡子的白菜”。但是這卻招引人們走進戲院去。
一個皮毛商人的一張狐貍皮——這是他的一個誠實的招牌——被吹到一個年輕人的門鈴繩上。這個年輕人的樣子像一把收著的傘;他老是去做晨禱，不停地在追求真理。他是一個“模范人物”——他的姑媽說。
“高等教育研究所”這幾個字被搬到一個彈子俱樂部的門上，而研究所的門上卻掛起了“這里用奶瓶養(yǎng)孩子”這個招牌。這一點也不文雅，只是頑皮。不過這是風(fēng)暴做出來的事兒，誰也無法控制它。
這是可怕的一夜。你想想看!在第二天早晨，幾乎城里所有的招牌都換了位置。有些地方的招牌上寫的字是那么存心不良，連外祖父都不好意思說出口。不過我看得出來，他在暗自發(fā)笑;很可能他還有些秘密不愿意講出來呢。
住在這城里的那些可憐的人——特別是那些生人——老是找錯了他們要訪問的人。當(dāng)然，要是他們按招牌去找的話，這也就無法避免。有些人以為自己是去參加市參議員們的非常莊嚴(yán)的會議，在那兒討論一些重要的事情;但結(jié)果他們卻來到了一個天翻地覆的男孩子的學(xué)校，來到一群在桌椅上亂跳亂蹦的孩子中間。
有些人把戲院和教堂弄得分不清。這真是可怕極了!
在我們這個時代里，這樣的風(fēng)暴可是從來沒有。那只是在外祖父生前發(fā)生的，那時候他還是一個小孩子。這樣的風(fēng)暴在我們的這個時代里大概是不會發(fā)生的，不過可能在我們的孩子的時代里會發(fā)生。我們只好希望和祈禱：當(dāng)風(fēng)暴在掉換招牌的時候，他們恰好都待在家里。
①蜜酒所含的酒精成分很少，通常是用大杯子喝的。
《風(fēng)暴把招牌換了》英文版：
The Storm Shakes the Shield
IN the old days, when grandpapa was quite a little boy, and ran about in little red breeches and a red coat, and a feather in his cap—for that’s the costume the little boys wore in his time when they were dressed in their best—many things were very different from what they are now. There was often a good deal of show in the streets—show that we don’t see nowadays, because it has been abolished as too old-fashioned. Still, it is very interesting to hear grandfather tell about it.
It must really have been a gorgeous sight to behold, in those days, when the shoemaker brought over the shield, when the court-house was changed. The silken flag waved to and fro, on the shield itself a double eagle was displayed, and a big boot; the youngest lads carried the “welcome,” and the chest of the workmen’s guild, and their shirt-sleeves were adorned with red and white ribbons; the elder ones carried drawn swords, each with a lemon stuck on its point. There was a full band of music, and the most splendid of all the instruments was the “bird,” as grandfather called the big stick with the crescent on the top, and all manner of dingle-dangles hanging to it—a perfect Turkish clatter of music. The stick was lifted high in the air, and swung up and down till it jingled again, and quite dazzled one’s eyes when the sun shone on all its glory of gold, and silver, and brass.
In front of the procession ran the Harlequin, dressed in clothes made of all kinds of colored patches artfully sewn together, with a black face, and bells on his head like a sledge horse. He beat the people with his bat, which made a great clattering without hurting them, and the people would crowd together and fall back, only to advance again the next moment. Little boys and girls fell over their own toes into the gutter, old women dispensed digs with their elbows, and looked sour, and took snuff. One laughed, another chatted; the people thronged the windows and door-steps, and even all the roofs. The sun shone; and although they had a little rain too, that was good for the farmer; and when they got wetted thoroughly, they only thought what a blessing it was for the country.
And what stories grandpapa could tell! As a little boy he had seen all these fine doings in their greatest pomp. The oldest of the policemen used to make a speech from the platform on which the shield was hung up, and the speech was in verse, as if it had been made by a poet, as, indeed it had; for three people had concocted it together, and they had first drunk a good bowl of punch, so that the speech might turn out well.
And the people gave a cheer for the speech, but they shouted much louder for the Harlequin, when he appeared in front of the platform, and made a grimace at them.
The fools played the fool most admirably, and drank mead out of spirit-glasses, which they then flung among the crowd, by whom they were caught up. Grandfather was the possessor of one of these glasses, which had been given him by a working mason, who had managed to catch it. Such a scene was really very pleasant; and the shield on the new court-house was hung with flowers and green wreaths.
“One never forgets a feast like that, however old one may grow,” said grandfather. Nor did he forget it, though he saw many other grand spectacles in his time, and could tell about them too; but it was most pleasant of all to hear him tell about the shield that was brought in the town from the old to the new court-house.
Once, when he was a little boy, grandpapa had gone with his parents to see this festivity. He had never yet been in the metropolis of the country. There were so many people in the streets, that he thought that the shield was being carried. There were many shields to be seen; a hundred rooms might have been filled with pictures, if they had been hung up inside and outside. At the tailor’s were pictures of all kinds of clothing, to show that he could stitch up people from the coarsest to the finest; at the tobacco manufacturer’s were pictures of the most charming little boys, smoking cigars, just as they do in reality; there were signs with painted butter, and herring, clerical collars, and coffins, and inscriptions and announcements into the bargain. A person could walk up and down for a whole day through the streets, and tire himself out with looking at the pictures; and then he would know all about what people lived in the houses, for they had hung out their shields or signs; and, as grandfather said, it was a very instructive thing, in a great town, to know at once who the inhabitants were.
And this is what happened with these shields, when grandpapa came to the town. He told it me himself, and he hadn’t “a rogue on his back,” as mother used to tell me he had when he wanted to make me believe something outrageous, for now he looked quite trustworthy.
The first night after he came to the town had been signalized by the most terrible gale ever recorded in the newspapers—a gale such as none of the inhabitants had ever before experienced. The air was dark with flying tiles; old wood-work crashed and fell; and a wheelbarrow ran up the streets all alone, only to get out of the way. There was a groaning in the air, and a howling and a shrieking, and altogether it was a terrible storm. The water in the canal rose over the banks, for it did not know where to run. The storm swept over the town, carrying plenty of chimneys with it, and more than one proud weathercock on a church tower had to bow, and has never got over it from that time.
There was a kind of sentry-house, where dwelt the venerable old superintendent of the fire brigade, who always arrived with the last engine. The storm would not leave this little sentry-house alone, but must needs tear it from its fastenings, and roll it down the street; and, wonderfully enough, it stopped opposite to the door of the dirty journeyman plasterer, who had saved three lives at the last fire, but the sentry-house thought nothing of that.
The barber’s shield, the great brazen dish, was carried away, and hurled straight into the embrasure of the councillor of justice; and the whole neighborhood said this looked almost like malice, inasmuch as they, and nearly all the friends of the councillor’s wife, used to call that lady “the Razor” for she was so sharp that she knew more about other people’s business than they knew about it themselves.
A shield with a dried salt fish painted on it flew exactly in front of the door of a house where dwelt a man who wrote a newspaper. That was a very poor joke perpetrated by the gale, which seemed to have forgotten that a man who writes in a paper is not the kind of person to understand any liberty taken with him; for he is a king in his own newspaper, and likewise in his own opinion.
The weathercock flew to the opposite house, where he perched, looking the picture of malice—so the neighbors said.
The cooper’s tub stuck itself up under the head of “ladies’ costumes.”
The eating-house keeper’s bill of fare, which had hung at his door in a heavy frame, was posted by the storm over the entrance to the theatre, where nobody went. “It was a ridiculous list—horse-radish, soup, and stuffed cabbage.” And now people came in plenty.
The fox’s skin, the honorable sign of the furrier, was found fastened to the bell-pull of a young man who always went to early lecture, and looked like a furled umbrella. He said he was striving after truth, and was considered by his aunt “a model and an example.”
The inscription “Institution for Superior Education” was found near the billiard club, which place of resort was further adorned with the words, “Children brought up by hand.” Now, this was not at all witty; but, you see, the storm had done it, and no one has any control over that.
It was a terrible night, and in the morning—only think!—nearly all the shields had changed places. In some places the inscriptions were so malicious, that grandfather would not speak of them at all; but I saw that he was chuckling secretly, and there may have been some inaccuracy in his description, after all.
The poor people in the town, and still more the strangers, were continually making mistakes in the people they wanted to see; nor was this to be avoided, when they went according to the shields that were hung up. Thus, for instance, some who wanted to go to a very grave assembly of elderly men, where important affairs were to be discussed, found themselves in a noisy boys’ school, where all the company were leaping over the chairs and tables.
There were also people who made a mistake between the church and the theatre, and that was terrible indeed!
Such a storm we have never witnessed in our day; for that only happened in grandpapa’s time, when he was quite a little boy. Perhaps we shall never experience a storm of the kind, but our grandchildren may; and we can only hope and pray that all may stay at home while the storm is moving the shields.
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