the world, and so much writing. People in general do not willingly read,if they can have any thing else to amuse them[671]. There must be anexternal impulse; emulation, or vanity, or avarice. The progress whichthe understanding makes through a book, has more pain than pleasure init. Language is scanty, and inadequate to express the nice gradationsand mixtures of our feelings. No man reads a book of science from pureinclination. The books that we do read with pleasure are lightcompositions, which contain a quick succession of events. However, Ihave this year read all Virgil through[672]. I read a book of the_Aeneid_ every night, so it was done in twelve nights, and I had greatdelight in it. The _Georgicks_ did not give me so much pleasure, exceptthe fourth book. The _Eclogues_ I have almost all by heart. I do notthink the story of the _Aeneid_ interesting. I like the story of the_Odyssey_ much better[673]; and this not on account of the wonderfulthings which it contains; for there are wonderful things enough in the_Aeneid_;--the ships of the Trojans turned to sea-nymphs,--the tree atPolydorus's tomb dropping blood. The story of the _Odyssey_ isinteresting, as a great part of it is domestick. It has been said, thereis pleasure in writing, particularly in writing verses. I allow you mayhave pleasure from writing, after it is over, if you have written well;but you don't go willingly to it again[674]. I know when I have beenwriting verses, I have run my finger down the margin, to see how many Ihad made, and how few I had to make[675].'He seemed to be in a very placid humour, and although I have no note ofthe particulars of young Mr. Burke's conversation, it is but justice tomention in general, that it was such that Dr. Johnson said to meafterwards, 'He did very well indeed; I have a mind to tell hisfather[676].''TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.'DEAR SIR,'The gentleman who waits on you with this, is Mr. Cruikshanks[677], whowishes to succeed his friend Dr. Hunter[678] as Professor of Anatomy inthe Royal Academy. His qualifications are very generally known, and itadds dignity to the institution that such men[679] are candidates.'I am, Sir,'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''May 2[680], 1783.'I have no minute of any interview with Johnson till Thursday, May 15,when I find what follows:--BOSWELL. 'I wish much to be in Parliament,Sir[681].' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, unless you come resolved to support anyadministration, you would be the worse for being in Parliament, becauseyou would be obliged to live more expensively.' BOSWELL. 'Perhaps, Sir,I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I never would sellmy vote, and I should be vexed if things went wrong.' JOHNSON. 'That'scant, Sir. It would not vex you more in the house, than in the gallery:publick affairs vex no man.' BOSWELL. 'Have not they vexed yourself alittle, Sir? Have not you been vexed by all the turbulence of thisreign, and by that absurd vote of the House of Commons, "That theinfluence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to bediminished[682]?"' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I have never slept an hour less, noreat an ounce less meat[683]. I would have knocked the factious dogs onthe head, to be sure; but I was not _vexed_.' BOSWELL. 'I declare, Sir,upon my honour, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a pride in it; butit _was_, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither ate less, nor slept less.'JOHNSON. 'My dear friend, clear your _mind_ of cant[684]. You may _talk_as other people do: you may say to a man, "Sir, I am your most humbleservant." You are not his most humble servant. You may say, "These arebad times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to such times." Youdon't mind the times. You tell a man, "I am sorry you had such badweather the last day of your journey, and were so much wet." You don'tcare six-pence whether he is wet or dry. You may _talk_ in this manner;it is a mode of talking in Society[685]; but don't _think_foolishly[686].'I talked of living in the country. JOHNSON. 'Don't set up for what iscalled hospitality; it is a waste of time, and a waste of money; you areeaten up, and not the more respected for your liberality. If your housebe like an inn, nobody cares for you. A man who stays a week withanother, makes him a slave for a week.'[687] BOSWELL. 'But there arepeople, Sir, who make their houses a home to their guests, and arethemselves quite easy.' JOHNSON. 'Then, Sir, home must be the same tothe guests, and they need not come.'Here he discovered a notion common enough in persons not much accustomedto entertain company, that there must be a degree of elaborateattention, otherwise company will think themselves neglected; and suchattention is no doubt very fatiguing.[688] He proceeded: 'I would not,however, be a stranger in my own county; I would visit my neighbours,and receive their visits; but I would not be in haste to return visits.If a gentleman comes to see me, I tell him he does me a great deal ofhonour. I do not go to see him perhaps for ten weeks; then we are verycomplaisant to each other. No, Sir, you will have much more influence bygiving or lending money where it is wanted, than by hospitality[689].'On Saturday, May 17, I saw him for a short time. Having mentioned that Ihad that morning been with old Mr. Sheridan, he remembered their formerintimacy with a cordial warmth, and said to me, 'Tell Mr. Sheridan, Ishall be glad to see him, and shake hands with him[690].' BOSWELL. 'Itis to me very wonderful that resentment should be kept up so long.'JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is not altogether resentment that he does notvisit me; it is partly falling out of the habit,--partly disgust, as onehas at a drug that has made him sick. Besides, he knows that I laugh athis oratory[691].'Another day I spoke of one of our friends, of whom he, as well as I,had a very high opinion. He expatiated in his praise; but added, 'Sir,he is a cursed Whig, a _bottomless_ Whig, as they all are now[692].'I mentioned my expectations from the interest of an eminent person[693]then in power; adding, 'but I have no claim but the claim of friendship;however, some people will go a great way from that motive.' JOHNSON.'Sir, they will go all the way from that motive.' A gentleman talked ofretiring. 'Never think of that,' said Johnson. The gentleman urged, 'Ishould then do no ill.' JOHNSON. Nor no good either. Sir, it would be acivil suicide[694].'On Monday, May 26, I found him at tea, and the celebrated Miss Burney,the authour of _Evelina_[695] and _Cecilia_, with him. I asked if therewould be any speakers in Parliament, if there were no places to beobtained. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir. Why do you speak here? Either to instructand entertain, which is a benevolent motive; or for distinction, whichis a selfish motive.' I mentioned _Cecilia_. JOHNSON. (with an air ofanimated satisfaction) 'Sir, if you talk of _Cecilia_, talk on[696].'We talked of Mr. Barry's exhibition of his pictures. JOHNSON. 'Whateverthe hand may have done, the mind has done its part. There is a grasp ofmind there which you find nowhere else[697].'I asked whether a man naturally virtuous, or one who has overcome wickedinclinations, is the best. JOHNSON. 'Sir, to _you_, the man who hasovercome wicked inclinations is not the best. He has more merit to_himself_: I would rather trust my money to a man who has no hands, andso a physical impossibility to steal, than to a man of the most honestprinciples. There is a witty satirical story of Foote. He had a smallbust of Garrick placed upon his bureau, "You may be surprized (said he)that I allow him to be so near my gold;--but you will observe he hasno hands."'On Friday, May 29[698], being to set out for Scotland next morning, Ipassed a part of the day with him in more than usual earnestness; as hishealth was in a more precarious state than at any time when I had partedfrom him. He, however, was quick and lively, and critical as usual. Imentioned one who was a very learned man. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, he has agreat deal of learning; but it never lies straight. There is never oneidea by the side of another; 'tis all entangled: and then he drives itso aukwardly upon conversation.'I stated to him an anxious thought, by which a sincere Christian mightbe disturbed, even when conscious of having lived a good life, so far asis consistent with human infirmity; he might fear that he shouldafterwards fall away, and be guilty of such crimes as would render allhis former religion vain. Could there be, upon this aweful subject, sucha thing as balancing of accounts? Suppose a man who has led a good lifefor seven years, commits an act of wickedness, and instantly dies; willhis former good life have any effect in his favour? JOHNSON. 'Sir, if aman has led a good life for seven years, and then is hurried by passionto do what is wrong, and is suddenly carried off, depend upon it he willhave the reward of his seven years' good life; GOD will not take a catchof him. Upon this principle Richard Baxter believes that a Suicide maybe saved. "If, (says he) it should be objected that what I maintain mayencourage suicide, I answer, I am not to tell a lie to prevent it."'BOSWELL. 'But does not the text say, "As the tree falls, so it mustlie[699]?"' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; as the tree falls: but,--(after alittle pause)--that is meant as to the general state of the tree, notwhat is the effect of a sudden blast.' In short, he interpreted theexpression as referring to condition, not to position. The commonnotion, therefore, seems to be erroneous; and Shenstone's witty remarkon Divines trying to give the tree a jerk upon a death-bed, to make itlie favourably, is not well founded[700].I asked him what works of Richard Baxter's I should read. He said, 'Readany of them; they are all good[701].'He said, 'Get as much force of mind as you can. Live within your income.Always have something saved at the end of the year. Let your imports bemore than your exports, and you'll never go far wrong.'I assured him, that in the extensive and various range of hisacquaintance there never had been any one who had a more sincere respectand affection for him than I had. He said, 'I believe it, Sir. Were I indistress, there is no man to whom I should sooner come than to you. Ishould like to come and have a cottage in your park, toddle about, livemostly on milk, and be taken care of by Mrs. Boswell. She and I are goodfriends now; are we not?'Talking of devotion, he said, 'Though it be true that "GOD dwelleth notin temples made with hands[702]," yet in this state of being, our mindsare more piously affected in places appropriated to divine worship, thanin others. Some people have a particular room in their house, where theysay their prayers; of which I do not disapprove, as it may animate theirdevotion.'He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual when I was leavinghim for any length of time. I walked from his door to-day, with afearful apprehension of what might happen before I returned.'To THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM WINDHAM.Sir, The bringer of this letter is the father of Miss Philips[703], asinger, who comes to try her voice on the stage at Dublin.Mr. Philips is one of my old friends; and as I am of opinion thatneither he nor his daughter will do any thing that can disgrace theirbenefactors, I take the liberty of entreating you to countenance andprotect them so far as may be suitable to your station[704] andcharacter; and shall consider myself as obliged by any favourable noticewhich they shall have the honour of receiving from you.I am, Sir, Your most humble servant,SAM JOHNSON. London, May 31, 1783.'The following is another instance of his active benevolence:--'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.DEAR SIR, I have sent you some of my god-son's[705] performances, ofwhich I do not pretend to form any opinion. When I took the liberty ofmentioning him to you, I did not know what I have since been told, thatMr. Moser[706] had admitted him among the Students of the Academy. Whatmore can be done for him I earnestly entreat you to consider; for I amvery desirous that he should derive some advantage from my connectionwith him. If you are inclined to see him, I will bring him to wait onyou, at any time that you shall be pleased to appoint.I am, Sir, Your most humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON. June 2, 1783.'My anxious apprehensions at parting with him this year proved to be buttoo well founded; for not long afterwards he had a dreadful stroke ofthe palsy, of which there are very full and accurate accounts inletters written by himself, to shew with what composure of mind, andresignation to the Divine Will, his steady piety enabled him to behave.'TO MR. EDMUND ALLEN[707].DEAR SIR, It has pleased GOD, this morning, to deprive me of the powersof speech; and as I do not know but that it may be his further goodpleasure to deprive me soon of my senses, I request you will on thereceipt of this note, come to me, and act for me, as the exigencies ofmy case may require.I am, Sincerely yours,SAM. JOHNSON. June 17, 1783.''TO THE REVEREND DR. JOHN TAYLOR.'DEAR SIR, It has pleased GOD, by a Paralytick stroke in the night, todeprive me of speech.I am very desirous of Dr. Heberden's[708] assistance, as I think my caseis not past remedy. Let me see you as soon as it is possible. Bring Dr.Heberden with you, if you can; but come yourself at all events. I amglad you are so well, when I am so dreadfully attacked.I think that by a speedy application of stimulants much may be done. Iquestion if a vomit, vigorous and rough, would not rouse the organs ofspeech to action. As it is too early to send, I will try to recollectwhat I can, that can be suspected to have brought on thisdreadful distress.I have been accustomed to bleed frequently for an asthmatick complaint;but have forborne for some time by Dr. Pepys's persuasion, whoperceived my legs beginning to swell. I sometimes alleviate a painful,or more properly an oppressive, constriction of my chest, by opiates;and have lately taken opium frequently, but the last, or two last times,in smaller quantities. My largest dose is three grains, and last night Itook but two[709]. You will suggest these things (and they are all thatI can call to mind) to Dr. Heberden.I am, &c. SAM. JOHNSON[710]. June 17, 1783.'Two days after he wrote thus to Mrs. Thrale[711]:--'On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture[712], and walked aconsiderable way with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and eveningI felt myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus Iwent to bed, and in a short time waked and sat up, as has been long mycustom, when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, whichlasted, I suppose, about half a minute. I was alarmed, and prayed God,that however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding.This prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made inLatin verse[713]. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not tobe very good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpairedin my faculties.Soon after I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick stroke, and thatmy speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little dejection inthis dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and consideredthat perhaps death itself, when it should come, would excite lesshorrour than seems now to attend it.In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has beencelebrated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violentmotion, and I think repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed,and strange as it may seem, I think slept. When I saw light, it was timeto contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left memy hand; I enjoyed a mercy which was not granted to my dear friendLawrence[714], who now perhaps overlooks me as I am writing, andrejoices that I have what he wanted. My first note was necessarily to myservant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend whyhe should read what I put into his hands.I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend athand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I hadsome difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. Ithen wrote to Dr. Taylor to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden; and Isent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are veryfriendly, and give me great hopes; but you may imagine my situation. Ihave so far recovered my vocal powers, as to repeat the Lord's Prayerwith no very imperfect articulation. My memory, I hope, yet remains asit was; but such an attack produces solicitude for the safety ofevery faculty.''To MR. THOMAS DAVIES.'DEAR SIR, I have had, indeed, a very heavy blow; but GOD, who yetspares my life, I humbly hope will spare my understanding, and restoremy speech. As I am not at all helpless, I want no particular assistance,but am strongly affected by Mrs. Davies's tenderness; and when I thinkshe can do me good, shall be very glad to call upon her. I had orderedfriends to be shut out; but one or two have found the way in; and if youcome you shall be admitted: for I know not whom I can see, that willbring more amusement on his tongue, or more kindness in his heart. Iam, &c.SAM. JOHNSON. June 18, 1783.'It gives me great pleasure to preserve such a memorial of Johnson'sregard for Mr. Davies, to whom I was indebted for my introduction tohim[715]. He indeed loved Davies cordially, of which I shall give thefollowing little evidence. One day when he had treated him with too muchasperity. Tom, who was not without pride and spirit, went off in apassion; but he had hardly reached home, when Frank, who had been sentafter him, delivered this note:--'Come, come, dear Davies, I am alwayssorry when we quarrel; send me word that we are friends.''To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.DEAR SIR, Your anxiety about my health is very friendly, and veryagreeable with your general kindness. I have, indeed, had a veryfrightful blow. On the 17th of last month, about three in the morning,as near as I can guess, I perceived myself almost totally deprived ofspeech. I had no pain. My organs were so obstructed, that I could say_no_, but could scarcely say _yes_. I wrote the necessary directions,for it pleased GOD to spare my hand, and sent for Dr. Heberden and Dr.Brocklesby. Between the time in which I discovered my own disorder, andthat in which I sent for the doctors, I had, I believe, in spite of mysurprize and solicitude, a little sleep, and Nature began to renew itsoperations. They came, and gave the directions which the diseaserequired, and from that time I have been continually improving inarticulation. I can now speak, but the nerves are weak, and I cannotcontinue discourse long; but strength, I hope, will return. Thephysicians consider me as cured. I was last Sunday at church. On TuesdayI took an airing to Hampstead, and dined with THE CLUB[716], where LordPalmerston was proposed, and, against my opinion, was rejected[717]. Idesigned to go next week with Mr. Langton to Rochester, where I purposeto stay about ten days, and then try some other air. I have many kindinvitations. Your brother has very frequently enquired after me. Most ofmy friends have, indeed, been very attentive[718]. Thank dear LordHailes for his present.I hope you found at your return every thing gay and prosperous, and yourlady, in particular, quite recovered and confirmed. Pay her my respects.I am, dear Sir, Your most humble servant, SAM. JOHNSON. London, July 3,1783.''To MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.DEAR MADAM, The account which you give of your health is but melancholy.May it please GOD to restore you. My disease affected my speech, andstill continues, in some degree, to obstruct my utterance; my voice isdistinct enough for a while; but the organs being still weak are quicklyweary: but in other respects I am, I think, rather better than I havelately been; and can let you know my state without the help of anyother hand.In the opinion of my friends, and in my own, I am gradually mending. ThePhysicians consider me as cured; and I had leave, four days ago, to washthe cantharides from my head. Last Tuesday I dined at THE CLUB.I am going next week into Kent, and purpose to change the air frequentlythis summer; whether I shall wander so far as Staffordshire I cannottell. I should be glad to come. Return my thanks to Mrs. Cobb, and Mr.Pearson, and all that have shewn attention to me.Let us, my dear, pray for one another, and consider our sufferings asnotices mercifully given us to prepare ourselves for another state.I live now but in a melancholy way. My old friend Mr. Levett is dead,who lived with me in the house, and was useful and companionable; Mrs.Desmoulins is gone away[719]; and Mrs. Williams is so much decayed, thatshe can add little to another's gratifications. The world passes away,and we are passing with it; but there is, doubtless, another world,which will endure for ever. Let us all fit ourselves for it.I am, &c., SAM. JOHNSON. London, July 5, 1783.'�主席就是我们的老天爷！” 得到解脱的他差点就蹦了起来，但是，就在要蹦起来的那一瞬间，他想起了脚脖子上的捕兽夹，人马上又委顿下来了。 “但是，旧的老天爷没人见过，新的老天爷我想你也看不见，眼下，还是把脚上的东西弄下来才是啊！” 索波又仰起头来看天。 索波的老母亲也来了：“大家就想肚子里多一点东西，你的肚子就跟大家不一样吗？” 杨麻子说：“一样的，一样的，就是脑子不一样罢了。可他的脚跟寻常人却不一样，看着，已经被铁牙齿咬出，血来了。” 索波一动，钢齿真的咔嚓一声咬进去一扣，血慢慢从钢齿间渗出来了。他忍不住大叫起来：“快，去给老子叫那个家伙！” “村子里能叫得动他的，就只有美嗓子色嫫了。” 索波的老母亲亲自出马，央求到色嫫头上，才在天黑前解开了索波脚上的捕兽夹。 从此，达戈在机村就是一个受欢迎受尊敬的人了。甚至有人动议，要让他顶替坐牢的格桑旺堆的大队长位置。但他只是对前来说项的人说：“再说，我的羊癫风又要犯了。” 惹得大家为他又叹息一回。 消失许久的老魏骑着他的摩托车，出现了。他带来了公社革命委员会的决定。索波同志出任机村第二任大队长。宣布了这个任命以后，出乎大家意料的是，索波并没有打主意把大家私种在火烧地上的庄稼归公。 他知道，但凡要做什么事情，都要先想出一个名目。如果想要消灭一种东西，那就要给这东西安上一个不好的名字。他想到了一个词：“无政府”，但心里又拿不太准。想来想去，就去找看书很多的达瑟。 达瑟正高坐在树上看书。 索波招手让他下来。 达瑟就下来了。 索波说：“妈的，看你从树上下来的笨样子，就不是个机灵的人。” 达瑟说：“我没假装自己是个机灵鬼。” “不过，你的书里肯定有些新鲜的说法。” “对我们这样的笨脑子来说，这些书里全是新鲜的说法。” “那……书上说没说，私种庄稼叫个什么名堂？”达瑟郑重其事地说：“我的书上不说这样的事情。”索波骂了一句。 达瑟已经转身往树上爬了。爬到半途，他回身对树下的人提了这样一个问题：“你原来想毁掉那些庄稼，是为了当大队长。现在你是大队长了，为什么还一定要毁掉这些庄稼？” 索波猛拍一下脑袋，立即就明白过来了。 当然，既然当了大队长，他总还是要做一些事情。他做的第一件事情就是带着拖拉机到公社去了一趟，拉回来许多电线与喇叭。从此，机村广场边竖起了一根髙高的旗杆，上面飘扬着红旗，红旗下面，是三只分别朝着不同方向的高音喇叭。每户人家，也装了一只四方的木头盒子，盒子上开着一个圆孔，圆孔上蒙着黑色的纱布。这也是一种喇叭，只是嗓门没有那么大，但里面说着与高音喇叭同样的话。 秋天，生产队还没有开动员秋收的会，社员们私下已经开过一次了。会议一致决定，要等人民土地里的庄稼全部收割后，才能去收拾自己私种的东西。 新上任的大队长不知道这些，他兴冲冲跑到广播站，通知大家开会动员秋收。他刚关掉机器从广播站出来，人们已经把广场站得满满当当了。所有人手里都拿着刚开了齿的镰刀，腰里扎着一圈背粮食的绳子，人们脸上开心的笑颜使得那一天的阳光分外灿烂。 这种情形使总是阴沉着脸的新任大队长也受到感染，笑容在他脸上慢慢绽开了。 有人喊一声：“他笑了！” 随着这一声喊，所有的笑脸都朝他转了过来，那么多闪烁着笑意的脸真能把一个人的里里外外都照得亮堂堂暖烘烘的。 索波的脸笑得更开了：“乡亲们，今年，是我们机村的丰收年！” “不用讲话了！你也比我们多讲不出什么道道来，就发一声话，下地开镰吧！” 索波举起手中的镰刀，想喊句什么，但他刚张开口，人们呼呼啦啦涌过他的身边，奔向成熟的麦地！ 广场上就剩下几个人了。 达戈说：“怎么，你以为自己是工作组的脱产干部？”杨麻子腰里挂着大串哗啦啦乱响的钥匙，笑着说：“你还不下地，领导落在群众后面了。” “那你怎么不下地？” 杨麻子晃晃手中的扫帚：“仓库里那么多耗子屎，我要好好打扫一番！” “我们机村人怎么一下子这么积极了？” “哪有农民见了庄稼丰收不高兴的道理？” 达戈倒是直截了当：“收了集体的，才好忙自家的嘛。” “我说嘛，这些人的觉悟一下子提得这么高了？”“难道大队长还要把这点积极性打下去？” 索波那张青脸上挤出了一点点笑容：“眼下我脚上可没有什么捕兽夹，我也不害怕你。要是需要，我倒可以让你害怕我，我是大队长！” 他这几句话，倒把达戈给呛住了。他就那么呆呆地立在那里，好半晌才回过神来，跟着下地去了。 达瑟笑了，说：“有意思，有意思啊。” “有什么意思呢？” 达瑟说：“其实我也不晓得，就是觉得有意思罢了。”“书呆子！”我跑到离他远一点的地方，像村里别的孩子一样嘲骂他，“你这个呆子！” 他一点也不恼火，村里没什么事能让他感到恼火，他有些茫然地看看我，说：“有意思，这个从来不骂人的孩子也开始骂人了。” 那个收获季节的机村阳光灿烂明亮，充满了欢声笑语。 成熟的麦子与青稞低垂着硕大饱满的穗子，沉甸甸地铺展在明亮的阳光下，波浪一样起伏。收割的人弯下腰去，一丛丛的麦子便齐刷刷被镰刀割倒。他们直起腰，大把的麦子在手中旋舞，转眼之间，就扎成了整齐的麦把。小学校老师跑到城里搞运动，放了假的学生们都下到地里，一群群候在大人们身后，把捆好的麦子收拾起来，摆成一个个整齐的麦垛。在人群背后，鸟群在风中起起落落，尖尖的长嘴叼起散落的麦穗。当衔山的夕阳刚把西边天空的云彩燃烧得一片彤红，月亮已经升上东边的天空了。等大家收工回家吃完晚饭，月光已经给大地镀上了一层银光。人们又下到地里，忙着把白天割下的麦子运回晒场。 从地里到晒场，看到的不是人，而是他们背上一垛垛的麦捆在移动。运回晒场的麦子还要晾上一段时间才能打场。高高的木头晾架，麦捆子一层层垛上去，都快垛到月亮上去了。 不要任何人动员，过去要一个多月才能干完的活，这回只用了半个月时间，生产队地里的庄稼就收完了。即便是这样，谁也不敢第一个先下到私种的过火地里去收获。全村人都集中在晒场上，所有人都带着一个木槌。要打场了，经过一个春夏日晒雨淋的晒场，绵实的黄土早都疏松了。要用木槌细细捶打得严实就可以打场了。往年，这只是几个老人的活。但现在，全村人都聚集在这里了。而就在此时，播在那些过火地里的油菜籽成熟了，一个个饱满的籽夹正在啪啪爆裂，满含油汁的细小菜籽四处飞溅，埋在地里的土豆，正把一只只野猪喂得膘肥体壮。大家都忍住心里的焦急，全部聚在这里，就等着索波发一句话，或者，有哪个胆壮的家伙率先开镰。 但索波这个家伙一连两天，都阴沉着脸，一言不发。第三天一大早，全村能下地的人又都聚到晒场上来了。眼看着太阳慢慢升上来，把麦垛上的霜花全部晒化，把一张张脸慢慢晒出汗来，索波他才抬眼看了看大家，马上就有人喊：“注意，大队长要讲话了！” 索波却把扫视大家的眼睛垂向了地下，说：“我要走了，公社这么长时间没有开会，我想该开开会了。我去看看他们开会不开。” 我那上卫校的表姐是个傻帽，她说：“大队长，这还用你亲自去吗，大队部有电话，打个电话问问不就……”她的话还没完，达瑟狠狠踩了她一脚，这姑娘抱着脚跳了起来。人群里爆发出一阵哄笑，索波也很难看地笑了一下，招呼了拖拉机手，跟他一起走了。 表姐冲到达瑟面前：“你是真踩啊！你以为我像你一样是个不知冷热的呆子啊！” 拖拉机声音还没有消失，人群就已经四散开去了。片刻之间，集体就消失了，分成一家一户的人们迫不及待地奔向私种地里急着收获庄稼。拖拉机没有开到公社，大概是开到一半光景的时候吧，索波叫拖拉机手停下车来，他抬头看看太阳：“时间还早，我想慢慢走一段你还是快点回去吧。” 拖拉机手心里虽然焦急，却也不好意思把大队长就这样丢到半道上：“我还是把你送到公社吧。” 索波说：“放心吧，没有人等着我去。” “那我们就一起回去吧。” 索波一脸的落寞：“你这是真话吗？全村能找出一个盼我回去的人吗？” 拖拉机手调转车头，索波举起手，说：“等等，我想你是有酒的。” 村里只有三个人没有下地。 一个是达瑟，一个是达戈。达戈看不上从地里刨来那点东西。达瑟回村不久，学校居然还给他寄来了每个月的津贴，既然干部身份还在，村里跟家里就都不肯安排他干活了。 还有一个人是我的表姐。表姐不下地的原因也跟达瑟一样。 三个人在村头闲坐，表姐一眼一眼地看着达瑟的时候，拖拉机开回来了。 达戈就问拖拉机手是怎么回事。拖拉机手就把路上的事情说了。 “你真的就把酒给他了？” 拖拉机手说：“奇怪，他举手的时候，真有点大官的架势。” “你就乖乖地把酒给他了？” “给了。” 拖拉机手的酒其实来路不正。供销社每月定量配给的酒，都是他拉回来的。每一回，他都会在半路上打开酒桶，给自已灌上一水壶，锁在拖拉机的工具箱里。起先，这事情他一个人运酒时才干。习惯了以后，就是拖拉机上有塔车的人，甚至代销员杨麻子亲自押车，他也会停卞车来，灌上一壶。 “原来你偷大家的酒是为了讨好领导？” 其实，索波以这种方式默许大家把私种地里的东西收回家里，好多人心里已经有些不忍了。 达瑟慢悠悠地说：“达戈啊，你算了吧。就让全村人把一个月的配给全部给他，大家都愿意。” 达戈也觉得自己有些过分了，但还是梗着脖子：“看看你的书，看书上说没说一个人的心肠一下子就会变好的。” 达瑟摇摇头，说：“我的书上不说这种事情。” “那你的书说些什么屁事？” “我的书告诉我漫山遍野花的名字、草的名字、还有飞禽与走兽的名字，不谈心里看不见的事情。” 他这么一说，真把达戈给唬住了，他还真以为书上不会说这样的事情。 在大家眼中，达戈其实是比达瑟能干百倍的人。大家常常看到达瑟像个影子一样跟在达戈身后，而对这样的情形最不高兴的就是我的表姐。所以，看到达瑟把他那自以为是的朋友镇住，就特别高兴，第二天，这个消息就在全村传开了。 索波收敛了自己的威风，大家是高兴的。 达戈自以为是的气焰被达瑟打压了一下，大家也同样高兴。但有愿意动脑子的人细细一想，就马上想起来从学习会上听来的东西：“放屁，工作组读的书上，毛主席说，身边躺着一个什么晓夫，他睡不着，这不是说心里的事情吗？” 对达瑟这种说法，喇嘛江村贡布也大摇其头，他说：“要是书都无人关心，那还有什么有处呢？” 达瑟反驳：“这是科学，而不是……不是……形而上学！” 大家又都叹气，这个人真是读书读傻了，专拣自己不懂的话说。 达瑟更加认真了：“我读我的书，发我的呆，关别人什么事！” 说完，他便离开人群往树林里走。 我也悄悄地跟在他身后。 走了一段，他回过头来，脸上现出很烦乱的神情，对我狠狠地挥手：“去！去！”第7章 我只是咧着嘴，对他一个劲地傻笑。我想，我是在尽力模仿他平常那呆头呆脑的傻笑。但他只是漠然看着我，看了一阵，就转身走开了。 等他走出一段，那些矮树丛就要遮住他的身影时，我又跟了上去。当那些矮树完全把他瘦长的身影遮没时，我就完全直起腰来，快步跟了上去。 我想：“这家伙真是一个呆子。” 就在我这么备着的时候，我却从一丛矮树旁栽进了另一丛灌木中间。挣扎的结果，我的脑袋，连带着整个上半身，更深地陷入到密集的树丛，一只脚连带着下半身却让一个绳套吊在了半空。 我不敢睁开眼睛，不然，不等断气，双眼就要叫那些乱七八糟的树枝给刺瞎了。 “哈！” 我听见了一个得意的声音。 “哈，哈哈！” 达瑟一把就把我从灌木丛里拉出来。我仰面躺在草地上，看见他俯身向我，说：“这个绳套最多只能对付野鸡与兔子，想不到套住了这么一个大家伙！” 他把套在我腿上的活扣解开，但我被灌木划伤的脸，火辣辣的痛。即使这样，我也不想哭，但泪水却一点也不争气，哗哗地流出了眼眶。这使我更加羞愧难当。 于是，我干脆放声哭了起来。 达瑟看一个孩子这么伤心地哭泣，马上就手脚无措了，他说：“哭什么呢？哭什么呢？我又不是婆娘，你一哭我就可以掏出奶子来哄你。” 我一个跟头就从地上翻了起来，擦去泪水，郑重宣布自己是大孩子，不是还要扎在女人怀里吃奶的小东西了。 “是的，是的，要是你是一个小东西，”达瑟蹲在了我的面前，把挂着绳套的树枝拉下来，又一松手，野蔷薇强劲的枝条“唿”一声就弹回去了，“看看，你要真还是一个小东西，套子就把你高高挂在树上了。” 他拍拍我的屁股：“好了，你不是小东西，但还是一个小家伙！起来吧。” 我就从地上爬起来了。 这时，达戈也出现了。 达瑟说：“你不是说要下地去帮忙吗？” “我眼皮子跳，想是套子里上东西了。这不，”达戈拍了拍我的屁股，“真有东西上我的套子了。” 天哪，屁股被这人拍打的感觉是多么惬意啊！在机村，这个家伙是所有孩子心目中最神气的男人。潜行在林子里的所有动物，只要他愿意，就能手到擒来。更何况，胸脯高高的美嗓子色嫫还是他的女友。现在，他那么亲热地拍打着我的屁股。一股热气从他的掌心，蹿到我的屁股上，又从那里直蹿到心窝，之后，还要一路向上，差点把我的天灵盖都顶开了！ 这股热气，差点又把我的眼泪给顶了出来。 等我再睁开眼睛时，达瑟已经不在了。这就像是传说中林子中一些神奇的野兽一样。它们想在的时候，就在那里。想不在那里，只要脑子里动一下念头，就消失得无影无踪了。 “达瑟？” 达戈笑着说：“走了。” 我还想再问，他脸上的神情变得严肃了：“小家伙，你跑到这里干什么来了？” “我想看看达瑟的书。”既然他那么亲昵地拍过我的屁股，我就用不着那么敬畏他了。 达戈就喊：“达瑟。” 达瑟从他的树屋上下来，又站在了我的眼前。 达戈说：“又来了一个想看书的呆子。” “我想看看你的书。” 一提到书，这个跟屁虫脸上现出的可不是虫子的表情，他的眼睛闪过一道亮光，脸上的神情也庄重起来，我有点害怕了：“要是你不想……” “妈的，你的脸划成这个样子，我们来治一治你的脸吧。” 他牵着我的手，在草丛里寻摸一阵，就找到一种草药。灌木丛里到处都有机村人从来没有命名过的这种草。这种草茎秆柔软透明，采下来轻轻一挤，便有乳白稠酽的浆汁从指缝间冒出来。达瑟嘴里轻轻地嘘着气，把这些乳浆涂在了我的伤口上，脸上火辣辣的感觉立即消失，一股清凉在脸上舒服地弥漫开来。 我知道，我已经是他的朋友了。我脸上沁凉，心里却暖洋洋的，这就是有了一个大朋友的感觉吧。这种感觉弄得我像是要晕过去了一样。我傻笑着，转动着身子，周围的树林，头上的天空就在四周旋转起来了。 然后，我听见他对我说：“来。” 他伸出手来了吗？ 就在那个村边浑圆的小山丘，那个靠近村子背后白桦与椴树和枫树的混杂林边那个小山丘顶行走的时候，我还摔了好几跤。每次摔倒，我都没有感到疼痛，只感到身子下面的草地的柔软与阳光的热量，努力把脸仰起来向达瑟傻笑。 我最后的一跤摔在翻过小丘部，山脚下的村子从视线里消失的时候。 这次，达瑟真的伸出手来了。他站在一株大树下，仰起脸来，看着巨大的树冠，说：“到了。” 他把我背在背上，爬上了他的树屋。 在离地十多米高的地方，他在大树粗大的枝桠上搭上了厚实的地板。上面，是杉树皮盖的顶。地板和顶棚之间，是编织紧密的树篱。树篱后面，是油布蒙着的木箱。我的眼睛看着那些木箱，再看看他，分明是问：“书？” 他点点头，说：“对，书。” 使我深深失望的是，他没有慷慨地打开那十几只木箱中的任何一只，他只是从一块油布下面抽出一本又厚又大的书来。 “《百科全书》。”他说。 我抚摸着那本书细布蒙出来的棕色封面和上面黯淡的金字：“《百科全书》。” 这样神圣的事物名字必得用我还不熟练的汉语来念，所以，我学舌学得相当拗口。这样的拗口更增加了我第一次面对一本《百科全书》时新奇与神秘的感觉。 用了好大的力气我才把那本厚书搬起来，如果不是赶快抱在怀里，这本神圣的书就掉在地板上了。几只野画眉在头顶的树冠中发出了沁人心脾的声音，周围的世界显得无边无沿。 “好重啊！”我说。 “这个世界那么多事物都在里边，怎么不重？” “我可以打开吗？” 达瑟看着我。我的眼里闪着星星点点的光。 他在蒙着棕黄的油布的木箱上面，铺开一张柔软暖和的狐皮。这才把书放在狐皮上面。他又用衣襟擦擦我的手，然后才轻声说：“打开吧。” 我就把书打开了。 书上，那么多的字密密麻麻整整齐齐，一下子就把我的眼睛涨满了。他说：“找找你认识的字。” 我找了一阵，找到了一个“一”，两个“木”，一个“花”，还有很多个“的”。还有几个字似曾相识，但我不敢肯定自己真的认得。我还傻乎乎地说了一句：“没有毛主席，没有共产党，也没有万岁。” 他笑了。 我说：“也没有打倒。” 达瑟先是无声地笑，然后就笑出声来了。笑够了，他才伸手翻动书页，说：“我们来看看这个。”书页摊开在眼前的是一幅差不多与整张书页大小的彩色图片。图中是一棵巨大而孤立的树。 “认识吗？” “就像一个见过很多面，又没有说过话的人。”也就是说，我叫不出这种似曾相识的大树的名字。 “妈的，也许你真是个聪明的小家伙。” 风一阵阵吹来，吹得头顶的树冠哗哗作响。几只停在树上的鸟飞出去，迎风悬停在空中，奋力地舞动翅膀甚至爪子以便在风中稳住身子。又落在了摇晃的枝头上。 达瑟张开嘴，被一股灌进嘴里的风给噎住了。他转过身子，把背朝向风，把被风吹起的书页用手摁住，大声说：“我们就在书里的这种树上！” 是的，我们就坐在这种树半腰搭出来的小屋里。表皮粗糙的巨大树干在地板下面，从我们和这些书箱置身的地方大树开始层层分杈，层层往上，在广大的空间里尽情伸展，形成了头顶上这个巨大的树冠。风一阵阵吹来，周围的树都在摇晃，但这株树不动，只有我们头顶上的树冠发出瀑布一般的声响。 机村的山野里植物众多，但全村所有人叫得出名字的种类不会到五十种。而且，好些名字还是非常土气的。比如，非常美丽的勺兰，叫做“咕嘟”，只因这花开放时，一种应季而鸣的鸟就开始啼叫了。这种鸟其实就是布谷鸟。五月，满山满谷都回荡着它们悠长的啼声，但人们也没有给它们一个雅致的命名，只是像其鸣声叫做“咕嘟”，然后又把勺兰这种应声而开的花也叫了同样土气的名字。现在，一本《百科全书》在我面前打开了。我置身其上而看不到全貌的树呈现在我面前。同时，还有一些环绕着大图的小图呈现出了这树不同部位的细节，和它在不同季节的情状。书本真是一种神奇的东西，它轻易地使一件事物的整体与局部，以及流逝于时间深处的状貌同时呈现出来了。 我问：“书上把这种树叫什么名字？” 达瑟握着我的右手，让我伸出食指，一一地摁向画幅左上方的三个大字：“鹅、掌、楸！” 这三个字不是我的舌头所习惯的偏僻乡村的藏语方言，而是我们在小学校刚刚开始学习的汉语。 我嘴里发出的含混而奇怪的音节让他哈哈大笑。 他又念了一遍。 这回我学得好了一些。而且，念完以后还感到最后那个音节在脑门四周留下好听的余音，像一只蜜蜂在左右盘旋。风吹过我置身其间的这株树，而我正在用另外一种语言，郑重其事地念出它的名字。尾巴上带着好听余音的名字。我念得有点过分庄重，好像是我首次为它命名一样。虽然，在机村，是达瑟首先念出了它的名字，然后才是我。而且，我念它的名字的时候，还带着机村人那种浓重的使一切音节听来都有些含糊的口音。 但是，最最重要的是，我叫出了一株树的名字。 我从此知道这个世界上所有事物都有它们庄重的名字。特别是当它们有了一个书上来的名字的时候。特别是这种事物的名字是由另一种语言念叨出来的时候，这个世界好像呈现出来一种全新的面貌。 我把这种感觉告诉了达瑟：“为什么树有了名字就跟没名字时不一样了？” 达瑟用他那宽大的手掌重重地拍打着我的脑袋，说：“对呀！对呀！这个道理我想了很久，你怎么一下子就明白了。” 我哪里知道这是为什么，只是一个劲地冲他傻笑不止。 “那么，书上会把所有这些树啊草啊的名字，”我的短短的手臂使劲伸出去，好像想把整个山野里的全部事物都揽进怀里一样，“都告诉我吗？” 达瑟使劲点头。 “那么，这些名字都在你的这些书里吗？” 达瑟脸上浮现出忧伤的神情，他慢慢地摇头，说：“我的书太少了。我想多读书，我想自己有很多很多书，但是，已经不能够了。” “为什么？” 他笑了一下：“你不要问我这个问题，我脑子不好，我不知道。” 我还想问点什么，但对一个机村的小屁孩来说，你还能对这个复杂的世界提出什么样的问题呢？ 达瑟脸上已露出了大人脸上惯有的对小孩子那种不耐烦的神情：“你该回你妈妈那里去了。” “我还可以来看你的书吗？” 他坚决地摇头。 好猎手达戈爬上树来，他看见了我，看着他的朋友达瑟惊奇地说：“咦？” 达瑟说：“你上来干什么，还是回家去吧。” 达戈把手指向树屋外面：“嘘……嘘！” 那神情，好像树下有什么猎物出现了。 顺着他的手望去，却见美嗓子色嫫哼着歌，湿漉漉的头发上别着一把红色的塑胶梳子正穿过树下的草地。 在那条小路尽头，一片野生的櫻桃树旁边，便是那座猎人的房子。从树上看下去，这座房子比平常看见的要矮小多了。这座有些奇怪的房子，从一层到二层再到三层，由一些曲折的楼梯和并不必要那么复杂的回廊所连接。特别是最高的那一层，完全像是一个堡垒。堡垒的铁皮尖顶亮光闪闪。这个闪着得意洋洋亮光的铁皮屋顶新换上不久。铁皮的来源据说是村子旁边正在新建的伐木场物资仓库。达戈为了每一块铁皮都付出了比之大几倍面积的珍贵皮草：可以做背心与帽子的狐皮；可以做褥子，的熊皮；可以做靴子与手套的鹿皮。但对于机村史无前例的好猎手达戈来说，这些皮子又算得了什么呢？ 不只是这座房子，把美嗓子色嫫打扮得漂漂亮亮的那些衣服，那些五颜六色的头巾与靴子，也都是达戈用猎物交换来的。 很多人估计，这个只穿着两身旧军衣，带着一条猎狗来到机村的家伙，现在可能比过去的地主还要富裕很多了。 达瑟说：“回去吧，人家看你来了。” 达戈脸上浮现出痛苦的神情，捧着头慢慢蹲了下来。 色嫫走到了屋子跟前，她没有拍门，熟练地弄开了一些复杂的猎人机关，进到屋里去了。我们几个待在树屋里，呆看着太阳落向天边，看着黄昏降临到山谷中间。风停了。淡蓝的炊烟从树下的屋顶上冒出来，升到树林上面的岚气中。 我身上有些冷。他们用一根绳子把我坠到地下。我站在草地上解开腰间的绳子，抬眼再看，猎人屋子已然隐去，只在那些野樱桃树丛后面，透出温暖的灯光。抬头看看上面，树上黑黝黝的，只有一个巨大树冠的轮廓，笼罩在闪着点点晶莹星光的夜空下面。 刚走到村头，就遇见了表姐。她已经串了好几户人家，找我回家。她当然要问我上哪里去了。 我没有说话。从今天起，我心里也有一点秘密了。我多么想把今天的经历说出来啊。但是，一说出来，我的心里就没有秘密了。我不知道秘密有什么用处。但有一个秘密藏在心头，感觉是手里攥着好多糖果。只要愿意，随时都可以打开手掌，伸出舌头，品尝一下那透心的甜蜜。 我还在想，为什么达戈建了那么漂亮的房子，房子里亮着那么温暖的灯光，他却要与达瑟一起待在黑灯瞎火的树上？ 在公社，索波让一群工人造反派打了。 这些伐木工人臂箍红袖章，头戴藤条盔，卡车顶上装着吵翻天的高音喇叭，从一个镇子窜向另一个镇子。他们在小学校操场上烧书，在一个又一个镇子把公社书记、卫生院长和林业派出所所长之类的人物拉出来批斗或毒打，他们窜到镇子附近的村寨里，把庙里金面泥胎的菩萨掀翻。当然，他们最重要的革命目标，是每个小镇都叫做“人民食堂”的饭馆，饭馆里的酒、肉和大米饭。他们腰里插着锯短了木把的斧头与铁锤，气度不凡地一路走州过县。他们在饭馆里呼啸不止的时候，卡车帮子上常常还铐着一个血肉模糊气息奄奄的人。 这景象让索波大为不服。 他对老魏说了些很生气的话。他说，毛主席不是说工人阶级和贫下中农都是革命的主力军吗？他们怎么就可以这样？ 老魏问他是不是也想吃饭不给钱？老魏说，现在社会主义革命不是还没有成功吗？三大差别还存在吗？这些家伙，就这样白吃白喝撑死了，国家还要给安葬费和抚恤金呢！“所以啊，”老魏说，“伙计，村里人在过火地里种点东西，就让人家收回家算了。”老魏虽然也戴着红袖章，穿着旧军装，但一边说着话，一边拍他肩头，一点没有一个革命干部的样子。 说完，老魏骑上他那辆飘着一面红色三角小旗，挂着一个空斗的摩托，突突地开走了。 索波在镇子无所事事地晃荡累了，抬头看看瓦蓝瓦蓝静默的天，想村里人该把私种的庄稼收完了吧。他一个人没有力量阻止全村人的意志，但他作为代理大队长也不能看见他们把庄稼收回家。他想，他们肯定觉得自己害怕了。等着吧，我索波有让你们害怕我的时候。心里这么想着，他的双脚已经带着他往没有粮票吃不到米饭的“人民食堂”去了。 食堂经理一脸惊惶垂手站在门外，里面吃免费餐的工人造反派闹翻了天。 看见索波，食堂经理脸上谄媚的笑容立即就消失了：“不行，本食堂在接待革命造反派！”第8章 索波心头有地下阴火一样的东西在蹿动，他没有说话，一掌就把这个把一张脸吃得油腻腻的家伙推到一边。他猛一下推开门，食堂—下子安静下来。那些手里把着酒把着肉的人，都把脸转了过来。眼里立刻射出了凶光。从这一刻起，索波知道了自己其实不是一个胆壮的人。在这些凶狠眼光的交叉注视下，他整个身子变得僵硬而冰凉。但他退不回去了。他试着往前走了一点。那些人没有动弹。他再往前走一步，那些人却又回过头去，对付酒肉去了。 他长吐了一口气，转动脑袋，摇动肩膀，使紧张的身体与神经一起松弛下来。他把身上仅有的几块钱全部掏出来，要了酒菜。很快，他就喝醉了。 酒一醉，他的胆子就大了。他走到那伙人跟前：“你们这些家伙实在是太吵了。” 他的脸上立即落上了重重的一拳，但他笑了，他说：“毛主席不是说工农一家吗？为什么你们吃饭不给钱，我们农民光给钱还只能喝酒，吃不上要粮票的饭？为什么国家给你们粮票，不给我们？” 那伙人都笑了。 索波自己给他们提供了酒足饭饱后的余兴节目。他们一边笑一边拳脚相加，把他从这张桌子底下打到那张桌子底下。 那伙人散去之后，索波自己爬到食堂楼上的旅馆床上，睡了整整两天。他羞愧地回想自己缩在桌子底下大喊：“我是贫下中农！我是机村的大队长！” 他的喊声只是招来了更多的哄笑与拳脚。 现在，他酒巳经醒了，一个人躺在床上，感到孤独的同时，也深深感到后悔与羞愧。为什么要那样喊叫，难道就不能一声不吭忍受下来？ 在机村以外的世界，亮出在机村并不一般的身份，不过是自取其侮罢了。也许再这么想下去，他都要流泪了。这时，房间门咿呀一声推开了，一个脑袋从门缝里伸进来，小心翼翼地说：“我找大队长。” “哪个大队长？” “机村大队的大队长，老魏叫我来的。” “你是什么人？” 那人这才闪身进门，站在了他的床前：“我是木匠。我还会榨油。老魏说在你的地盘能找到活干。” 两个人这就一起上路了。路上，他问这个手艺人叫什么名字。他说：“我姓骆。” 他连说了几次“骆”，但是，索波还是无法发出这个汉语的奇怪音节来。索波说：“有些汉人的名字真是奇怪。”姓骆的家伙笑了：“汉人听藏人的名字也一样啊。”这个姓胳的家伙两手空空。 两个人只是埋头赶路，走长路时人脚下很快，都顾不上说话。走到半途，休息的时候，索波才问：“你就这么空着双手？” 胳木匠摊摊手，说：“我带着我的手艺。” 两个人再次上胳，直到机村出现在眼前，看见伐木场新建的一大片铁皮顶的房子，在太阳下闪闪发光，索波才又开口：“老魏是你亲戚？” 胳木匠莫测高深地笑笑，说：“就算是吧。” “那他怎么不给你找个好工作？” 胳木匠还是那样莫测高深地微笑：“这就是他给我找的工作。” 这个家伙，看起来谦恭的笑容背后，有种倨傲的味道，让人感觉不是十分舒服。 索波没有想到的是，他人还没有回来，在镇上挨了毒打的消息早就传开了。当着那么多人，老母亲哭着扎进他的怀里，拉开藏袍的前襟，亮出他胸口上青紫的伤痕。这叫他把脸面丢尽了。 我表姐一副热心肠总放不对地方，她居然挎来红十字药箱要给大队长治伤。她竟然学着人家母亲的样，举着一瓶紫药水去拉大队长的衣襟，却被索波一掌推倒在地上。 一些人发出哄笑，另一些本就看不惯他做派的人则骂了起来。 那些精力旺盛的小伙子们，嚷嚷说，我们：的人让砍树的汉人打了。要冲到伐木场从另一批砍树的汉人身上打回来。 索波提高了嗓门，却还是没有办法把喧嚷的声音压下去。他只好掏出了过去召集他的民兵排集合的哨子。哨声一起，人群立即就安静了，准备聆听他发表长篇大论。 但他只是说：“我带回来一个木匠，谁家有活，就领他回去吧。” 大家的注意力就转移到了木匠身上。 这可是个机灵的家伙，他未曾说话就露出满口白牙笑了：“谢谢各位乡亲，我姓骆，骆木匠。以后，就靠大家赏饭了。” 木匠这个词，一听就懂，一念就会，可前面那个奇怪的“胳”，只有上过学的达瑟之类的家伙才念得出来。但念出来，意思还不明白。 “骆？什么意思。” “就是姓嘛！” “这么怪？没听说过。” 木匠是多么机灵的人啊：“哎呀，就是骆驼的那个骆嘛！骆驼，一种牲口嘛，一种比牦牛还大的牲口嘛。” 他这一说，达瑟就拍拍脑门，慢吞吞地说：“对，我的书上有这种动物。” “那你就说说呀！”好奇心马上就都转到他身上来了。 总是不温不火的达瑟这时也激动得面孔潮红，拍着脑袋想怎么向乡亲们描述这种动物。 “对，这种动物，有点像马跟骡子，但驮东西不要鞍子！” 人群发出失望的声音：“呵——” 达瑟急得脑门上的青筋都鼓起来了：“这东西生下来身上就有一副肉鞍子！” “呵—” “不信你们问他！” 大家的眼光齐刷刷转向了新来的木匠。 木匠说：“嗨！你们晓得驼背吧？” 大家笑了，怎么连驼背都不晓得呢？不就是生下来就让一个大肉球压得腰都直不起来的苦命人嘛。 “对了，对了，”把自己的名字比作一种牲口的木匠拍掌叫道，“这就对了嘛，这种畜牲生下来就背着两个驼背，一个，下来一点，又是一个！这就成了一副肉做的鞍子嘛！”
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