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Montmorency came and sat down on things, just when they were wanted to be packed; and he was sure that Harris or George wanted to touch his cold, damp nose. He put his leg into the jam, and he fought the teaspoons, and he pretended that the lemons were rats, and killed three of them.
Harris said I encouraged him. I didn’t encourage him. A dog like that doesn’t want any encouragement.
The packing was done at 12.50; and Harris said he hoped nothing would be found broken. George said that if anything was broken it was broken. He also said he was ready for bed. We were all ready for bed. We went upstairs.
Chapter V
It was Mrs. Poppets that woke me up next morning.
She said:
“Do you know that it’s nearly nine o’clock, sir?”
“Nine o’ what?” I cried.
“Nine o’clock,” she replied, through the keyhole.
I woke Harris, and told him. He said:
“I thought you wanted to get up at six?”
“So I did,” I answered; “why didn’t you wake me?”
“How could I wake you, when you didn’t wake me?” he retorted.
I saw George. He was still sleeping – the man who had wanted to know what time he should wake us – on his back, with his mouth wide open. I shouted in his ear, and he awoke.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, sitting up.
“Get up!” roared Harris. “It’s quarter to ten.”
“What!” he shrieked, jumping out of bed into the bath.
We finished dressing, and we remembered that we had packed the tooth-brushes and the brush and comb, and we had to go downstairs, and take them out of the bag.
We went downstairs to breakfast. Montmorency had invited two other dogs to come and see him off,[39 - to see him off – проводить его] and they were sitting on the doorstep.
It was very bright and sunny on that morning. Harris and I brought our luggage to the doorstep, and began to wait for a cab.
Our luggage was rather big. There was a huge suitcase and the small hand-bag, and the two hampers, and a large roll of rugs, and some four or five overcoats and mackintoshes, and a few umbrellas, and then there was a melon in a bag, and a couple of pounds of grapes in another bag, and a Japanese paper umbrella, and a frying-pan.
Quite a small crowd had collected, and people were asking each other what was the matter. One party (the young and giddy portion of the crowd) thought that it was a wedding, and pointed out Harris as the bridegroom; while the elder and more thoughtful party said that it was a funeral, and that I was probably the corpse’s brother.
At last, an empty cab came, and packing ourselves and our things into it, we drove away amidst the cheers of the crowd.
We got to Waterloo[40 - Waterloo – Ватерлоо (название вокзала)] at eleven, and asked where the eleven-five started from.[41 - where the eleven-five started from – откуда отправляется поезд 11.5] Of course nobody knew; nobody at Waterloo ever knows where a train is going to start from, or where a train when it starts is going to, or anything about it. The porter who took our things thought it would go from number two platform, while another porter, with whom he discussed the question, had heard a rumour that it would go from number one.
We went upstairs, and asked the traffic superintendent, and he told us that he had just met a man, who said he had seen it at number three platform. We went to number three platform. We saw the engine-driver, and asked him if he was going to Kingston. He said he couldn’t say for certain of course, but that he rather thought he was. We gave him half-a-crown, and begged him to be the 11.5 for Kingston.
“Nobody will ever know,” we said, “what you are, or where you’re going. You know the way, so go to Kingston.”
“Well, I don’t know, gentlemen,” replied the noble fellow, “but I’ll do it. Give me the halfcrown.”
Thus we got to Kingston.
We learnt, afterwards, that they had spent hours at Waterloo, looking for the train we had come by, and nobody knew what had become of it.
Our boat was waiting for us at Kingston just below bridge. We stored our luggage, and into it we stepped.
Chapter VI
It was a glorious morning, late spring or early summer, when the year seems like a fair young maid. I was looking at the town and began to think about great English kings and queens who built it.
Suddenly Harris got up and left his seat, and sat on his back, and stuck his legs in the air.[42 - and stuck his legs in the air – и начал дрыгать ногами] Montmorency howled, and the top hamper jumped up, and all the things came out.
I was somewhat surprised, but I did not lose my temper. I said, pleasantly enough:
“Hello! what’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter? Why – ”
No, on second thoughts, I will not repeat what Harris said. Maybe I was guilty, I admit it; but nothing excuses violence of language of Harris. I was thinking of other things, and forgot, as any one might easily understand, that I was steering, and our boat hit the bank of the river.
I got out and took the tow-line, and ran the boat on past Hampton Court.[43 - Hampton Court – Хэмптон-Корт] What a dear old wall that is that runs along by the river there! If I could only draw, and knew how to paint, I could make a lovely sketch of that old wall, I’m sure.
I’ve often thought I should like to live at Hampton Court. It looks so peaceful and so quiet, and it is such a dear old place to walk around in the early morning.
We are creatures of the sun, we men and women. We love light and life. That is why we crowd into the towns and cities, and the country grows more and more deserted every year.
Harris asked me if I’d ever been in the maze at Hampton Court.[44 - maze at Hampton Court – Хэмптон-Кортский лабиринт] He said he went in once to show somebody else the way. He had studied it up in a map, and it was so simple that it seemed foolish – hardly worth the twopence charged for admission. Harris took his country cousin there. He said:
“We’ll just go in here, so that you can say you’ve been, but it’s very simple. It’s absurd to call it a maze. You must always turn right – that’s all. We’ll just walk round for ten minutes, and then go and get some lunch.”
They met some people soon after they had got inside, who said they had been there for three-quarters of an hour. Harris told them they could follow him, if they liked; he was just going in, and then should turn round and come out again. They said it was very kind of him, and followed.
People who had given up all hopes of ever getting either in or out,[45 - had given up all hopes of ever getting either in or out – оставили всякую надежду выйти или войти] joined the procession, blessing him. Harris said there were about twenty people, following him; and one woman with a baby, who took his arm, for fear of losing him.
Harris kept on turning to the right, but it seemed a long way, and his cousin said he supposed it was a very big maze.
“Oh, one of the largest in Europe,” said Harris. “Yes, it must be,” replied the cousin, “because we’ve walked a good two miles already.”
Harris began to think it rather strange himself. At last, they passed the piece of a cake that Harris’s cousin had noticed there seven minutes ago. Harris said, “Oh, impossible!” but the woman with the baby said, “Not at all,” as she herself had taken it from the child, and thrown it down there, just before she met Harris. She also added that she wished she never had met Harris, and expressed an opinion that he was an impostor. That made Harris mad, and he showed her his map, and explained his theory.
“The map may be all right enough,” said one of the party, “if you know where we are now.”
Harris didn’t know, and suggested that the best thing to do would be to go back to the entrance, and begin again. So everybody turned, and went, in the opposite direction. About ten minutes more passed, and then they found themselves in the centre.
Anyhow, they knew where they were, and the thing seemed simpler than ever, and off they started for the third time.
And three minutes later they were back in the centre again.
After that, whatever way they turned brought them back to the middle. Harris said that he had become unpopular.
They had to wait till one of the old keepers came back from his dinner before they got out.
Harris said he thought it was a very fine maze, and we agreed that we would try to get George to go into it, on our way back.
Chapter VII
It was while passing through Moulsey Lock[46 - Moulsey Lock – Маулсейский шлюз] that Harris told me about his maze experience. It took us some time to pass through, as we were the only boat, and it is a big lock.
I have stood and watched it. The river affords a good opportunity for dress. For once in a way, we men are able to show our taste in colours. I always like a little red in my things – red and black. You know my hair is golden brown, and a dark red matches it beautifully. I like a red silk handkerchief round the waist – a handkerchief looks so much better than a belt.
Harris always keeps to shades or mixtures of orange or yellow, but I don’t think he is at all wise in this. His complexion is too dark for yellows. Yellows don’t suit him: there can be no question about it. I want him to take to blue as a background, with white or cream; but the less taste a person has in dress, the more obstinate he is.
George has bought some new things for this trip. But his blazer is loud.[47 - his blazer is loud – у него кричащая спортивная куртка] He brought it home and showed it to us on Thursday evening. We asked him what colour he called it, and he said he didn’t know. He didn’t think there was a name for the colour. The seller had told him it was an Oriental design. George put it on, and asked us what we thought of it. Harris said that it is perfect to frighten the birds away. What troubles Harris and myself, is that this blazer will attract attention to the boat.
Harris wanted to get out at Hampton Church, to go and see Mrs. Thomas’s tomb.
“Who is Mrs. Thomas?” I asked.
“How should I know?” replied Harris. “She’s a lady that’s got a funny tomb, and I want to see it.”
I objected. Harris, however, adores tombs, and graves, and epitaphs, and monumental inscriptions, and the thought of not seeing Mrs. Thomas’s grave made him crazy. He said he had looked forward to seeing Mrs. Thomas’s grave from the first moment that the trip was proposed.
I reminded him of George, and how we had to get the boat up to Shepperton. George was working at the bank there and he had to join us later.
“I never see him doing any work there,” said Harris. “He sits behind a bit of glass all day, trying to look as if he was doing something. What use is he there, and what’s the good of their banks? If he was here, we could go and see that tomb. I don’t believe he’s at the bank at all. I’m going to get out, and have a drink.”
It is always best to let Harris say everything he wants. Then he pumps himself out,[48 - he pumps himself out – он выдыхается] and is quiet afterwards.
I reminded him that there was concentrated lemonade in the hamper, and a gallon-jar of water in the nose of the boat, and we could mix them and make a cool and refreshing beverage.
Then he said those beverages produced dyspepsia, and ruined body and soul alike, and were the cause of half the crime in England.
He added he must drink something, however, and climbed upon the seat, and began to look for the bottle. It was right at the bottom of the hamper, and seemed difficult to find, and he had to lean over further and further, and, he pulled the wrong line, and sent the boat into the bank, and the shock upset him, and he dived down right into the hamper, and stood there on his head. He dared not move for fear of going over,[49 - for fear of going over – от страха полететь в воду] and had to stay there till I could get hold of his legs, and take him back, and that made him madder than ever.
Chapter VIII
We stopped under the willows, and lunched. It is a pretty little spot there: a pleasant grass plateau with willows. We had just commenced the third course – the bread and jam – when a gentleman came along, and wanted to know if we knew that we were trespassing.[50 - we were trespassing – мы нарушили границу чужих владений] We said we did not know, but we could believe him.
We thanked him, but he still hung about, and seemed to be dissatisfied, so we asked him if there was anything further that we could do for him; and Harris offered him a bit of bread and jam.
The man said that it was his duty to turn us off. He would go and consult his master, and then come back.
Of course, we never saw him any more, and, of course, all he really wanted was a shilling. Harris said he not only wanted to kill the man but sing comic songs[51 - comic songs – комические куплеты] on the ruins of his house.
You have never heard Harris sing a comic song. It is one of Harris’s fixed ideas that he can sing a comic song. The fixed idea, on the contrary, among those of Harris’s friends who have heard him try, is that he can’t and never will be able to.
When Harris is at a party, and is asked to sing, he replies: “Well, I can only sing a comic song, you know;” and he shows that is a thing that you ought to hear once, and then die.
“Oh, that is nice,” says the hostess. “Do sing one, Mr. Harris”; and Harris gets up, and comes to the piano.
“Now, silence, please, everybody”, says the hostess, turning round. “Mr. Harris is going to sing a comic song!”
“Oh, how jolly!” they murmur; and they hurry in, and come up from the stairs, and crowd into the drawing-room, and sit round.
Then Harris begins.
Well, you expect a wonderful voice for a comic song. You don’t expect correct phrasing or vocalization. But you do expect the words. You don’t – well, I will just give you an idea of Harris’s comic singing, and then you can judge of it for yourself.
HARRIS (standing up in front of piano and addressing the expectant mob): “I’m afraid it’s a very old thing, you know. I expect you all know it, you know. But it’s the only thing I know. It’s the Judge’s song – no, I don’t mean it – I mean – you know what I mean – the other thing, you know. You must all join in the chorus, you know.”
Brilliant performance of prelude to the Judge’s song by nervous Pianist. Moment arrives for Harris to join in. Harris takes no notice of it. Nervous pianist commences prelude over again, and Harris, commencing singing at the same time, dashes off[52 - dashes off – выпаливает] the first two lines. Nervous pianist tries to finish the prelude, then he tries to follow Harris with accompaniment, and stops.
HARRIS (with kindly encouragement): “It’s all right. You’re doing it very well, indeed – go on.”
NERVOUS PIANIST: “I’m afraid there’s a mistake somewhere. What are you singing?”
HARRIS (promptly): “The Judge’s song. Don’t you know it?”
A FRIEND OF HARRIS’S (from the back of the room): “No, you’re not, you’re singing the Admiral’s song.”
Long argument between Harris and Harris’s friend as to what Harris is really singing.[53 - as to what Harris is really singing – о том, что именно поет Гаррис] Friend finally suggests that it doesn’t matter what Harris is singing, and Harris requests pianist to begin again. Pianist starts prelude to the Admiral’s song, and Harris begins.
HARRIS: ‘When I was young and called to the Bar.’
General roar of laughter, taken by Harris as a compliment. Pianist, thinking of his wife and family, retires; his place is taken by a stronger-nerved man.
THE NEW PIANIST (cheerily): “Now then, old man, you start off, and I’ll follow. We won’t bother about any prelude.”
HARRIS (laughing): “Oh, I beg your pardon. Of course – I’ve mixed up the two songs. It was Jenkins[54 - Jenkins – Дженкинс] confused me, you know. Now then.
Singing; his voice sounds like an approaching earthquake.
‘When I was young I served a term As office-boy to an attorney’s firm.[55 - When I was young I served a term аs office-boy to an attorney’s firm. – Я в мальчиках когда-то служил у адвоката.]’
(Aside to pianist): “It is too low, old man; we’ll have that over again, if you don’t mind.”
[Sings first two lines over again, in a high falsetto[56 - in a high falsetto – высоким фальцетом] this time.
Great surprise on the part of the audience. Nervous old lady near the fire begins to cry.]
HARRIS (continuing): ‘I swept the windows and I swept the door, And I – ’
No – no, I cleaned the windows of the big front door.
And I polished up the floor – no, dash it[57 - dash it – чёрт подери] – I beg your pardon – funny thing, I can’t think of that line. And I – and I – Oh, well, we’ll get on to the chorus (sings):
