three men in a boat-第28部分

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he　would　show　us　what　could　be　done　up　the　river　in　the　way　of　cooking；　

and　suggested　that；　with　the　vegetables　and　the　remains　of　the　cold　beef　

and　general　odds　and　ends；　we　should　make　an　Irish　stew。



It　seemed　a　fascinating　idea。　　George　gathered　wood　and　made　a　fire；　and　

Harris　and　I　started　to　peel　the　potatoes。　　I　should　never　have　thought　

that　peeling　potatoes　was　such　an　undertaking。　　The　job　turned　out　to　be　

the　biggest　thing　of　its　kind　that　I　had　ever　been　in。　　We　began　

cheerfully；　one　might　almost　say　skittishly；　but　our　light…heartedness　

was　gone　by　the　time　the　first　potato　was　finished。　　The　more　we　peeled；　

the　more　peel　there　seemed　to　be　left　on；　by　the　time　we　had　got　all　the　

peel　off　and　all　the　eyes　out；　there　was　no　potato　left　…　at　least　none　

worth　speaking　of。　　George　came　and　had　a　look　at　it　…　it　was　about　the　

size　of　a　pea…nut。　　He　said：



〃Oh；　that　won't　do！　　You're　wasting　them。　　You　must　scrape　them。〃



So　we　scraped　them；　and　that　was　harder　work　than　peeling。　　They　are　such　

an　extraordinary　shape；　potatoes　…　all　bumps　and　warts　and　hollows。　　We　

worked　steadily　for　five…and…twenty　minutes；　and　did　four　potatoes。　　Then　

we　struck。　　We　said　we　should　require　the　rest　of　the　evening　for　

scraping　ourselves。



I　never　saw　such　a　thing　as　potato…scraping　for　making　a　fellow　in　a　

mess。　　It　seemed　difficult　to　believe　that　the　potato…scrapings　in　which　

Harris　and　I　stood；　half　smothered；　could　have　come　off　four　potatoes。　　

It　shows　you　what　can　be　done　with　economy　and　care。



George　said　it　was　absurd　to　have　only　four　potatoes　in　an　Irish　stew；　so　

we　washed　half…a…dozen　or　so　more；　and　put　them　in　without　peeling。　　We　

also　put　in　a　cabbage　and　about　half　a　peck　of　peas。　　George　stirred　it　

all　up；　and　then　he　said　that　there　seemed　to　be　a　lot　of　room　to　spare；　

so　we　overhauled　both　the　hampers；　and　picked　out　all　the　odds　and　ends　

and　the　remnants；　and　added　them　to　the　stew。　　There　were　half　a　pork　pie　

and　a　bit　of　cold　boiled　bacon　left；　and　we　put　them　in。　　Then　George　

found　half　a　tin　of　potted　salmon；　and　he　emptied　that　into　the　pot。



He　said　that　was　the　advantage　of　Irish　stew：　you　got　rid　of　such　a　lot　

of　things。　　I　fished　out　a　couple　of　eggs　that　had　got　cracked；　and　put　

those　in。　　George　said　they　would　thicken　the　gravy。



I　forget　the　other　ingredients；　but　I　know　nothing　was　wasted；　and　I　

remember　that；　towards　the　end；　Montmorency；　who　had　evinced　great　

interest　in　the　proceedings　throughout；　strolled　away　with　an　earnest　and　

thoughtful　air；　reappearing；　a　few　minutes　afterwards；　with　a　dead　water…

rat　in　his　mouth；　which　he　evidently　wished　to　present　as　his　

contribution　to　the　dinner；　whether　in　a　sarcastic　spirit；　or　with　a　

genuine　desire　to　assist；　I　cannot　say。



We　had　a　discussion　as　to　whether　the　rat　should　go　in　or　not。　　Harris　

said　that　he　thought　it　would　be　all　right；　mixed　up　with　the　other　

things；　and　that　every　little　helped；　but　George　stood　up　for　precedent。　　

He　said　he　had　never　heard　of　water…rats　in　Irish　stew；　and　he　would　

rather　be　on　the　safe　side；　and　not　try　experiments。



Harris　said：



〃If　you　never　try　a　new　thing；　how　can　you　tell　what　it's　like？　　It's　men　

such　as　you　that　hamper　the　world's　progress。　　Think　of　the　man　who　first　

tried　German　sausage！〃



It　was　a　great　success；　that　Irish　stew。　　I　don't　think　I　ever　enjoyed　a　

meal　more。　　There　was　something　so　fresh　and　piquant　about　it。　　One's　

palate　gets　so　tired　of　the　old　hackneyed　things：　here　was　a　dish　with　a　

new　flavour；　with　a　taste　like　nothing　else　on　earth。



And　it　was　nourishing；　too。　　As　George　said；　there　was　good　stuff　in　it。　　

The　peas　and　potatoes　might　have　been　a　bit　softer；　but　we　all　had　good　

teeth；　so　that　did　not　matter　much：　and　as　for　the　gravy；　it　was　a　poem　…　

a　little　too　rich；　perhaps；　for　a　weak　stomach；　but　nutritious。



We　finished　up　with　tea　and　cherry　tart。　　Montmorency　had　a　fight　with　

the　kettle　during　tea…time；　and　came　off　a　poor　second。



Throughout　the　trip；　he　had　manifested　great　curiosity　concerning　the　

kettle。　　He　would　sit　and　watch　it；　as　it　boiled；　with　a　puzzled　

expression；　and　would　try　and　rouse　it　every　now　and　then　by　growling　at　

it。　　When　it　began　to　splutter　and　steam；　he　regarded　it　as　a　challenge；　

and　would　want　to　fight　it；　only；　at　that　precise　moment；　some　one　would　

always　dash　up　and　bear　off　his　prey　before　he　could　get　at　it。



To…day　he　determined　he　would　be　beforehand。　　At　the　first　sound　the　

kettle　made；　he　rose；　growling；　and　advanced　towards　it　in　a　threatening　

attitude。　　It　was　only　a　little　kettle；　but　it　was　full　of　pluck；　and　it　

up　and　spit　at　him。



〃Ah！　would　ye！〃　growled　Montmorency；　showing　his　teeth；　〃I'll　teach　ye　to　

cheek　a　hard…working；　respectable　dog；　ye　miserable；　long…nosed；　dirty…

looking　scoundrel；　ye。　　Come　on！〃



And　he　rushed　at　that　poor　little　kettle；　and　seized　it　by　the　spout。



Then；　across　the　evening　stillness；　broke　a　blood…curdling　yelp；　and　

Montmorency　left　the　boat；　and　did　a　constitutional　three　times　round　the　

island　at　the　rate　of　thirty…five　miles　an　hour；　stopping　every　now　and　

then　to　bury　his　nose　in　a　bit　of　cool　mud。



From　that　day　Montmorency　regarded　the　kettle　with　a　mixture　of　awe；　

suspicion；　and　hate。　　Whenever　he　saw　it　he　would　growl　and　back　at　a　

rapid　rate；　with　his　tail　shut　down；　and　the　moment　it　was　put　upon　the　

stove　he　would　promptly　climb　out　of　the　boat；　and　sit　on　the　bank；　till　

the　whole　tea　business　was　over。



George　got　out　his　banjo　after　supper；　and　wanted　to　play　it；　but　Harris　

objected：　he　said　he　had　got　a　headache；　and　did　not　feel　strong　enough　

to　stand　it。　　George　thought　the　music　might　do　him　good　…　said　music　

often　soothed　the　nerves　and　took　away　a　headache；　and　he　twanged　two　or　

three　notes；　just　to　show　Harris　what　it　was　like。



Harris　said　he　would　rather　have　the　headache。



George　has　never　learned　to　play　the　banjo　to　this　day。　　He　has　had　too　

much　all…round　discouragement　to　meet。　　He　tried　on　two　or　three　

evenings；　while　we　were　up　the　river；　to　get　a　little　practice；　but　it　

was　never　a　success。　　Harris's　language　used　to　be　enough　to　unnerve　any　

man；　added　to　which；　Montmorency　would　sit　and　howl　steadily；　right　

through　the　performance。　　It　was　not　giving　the　man　a　fair　chance。



〃What's　he　want　to　howl　like　that　for　when　I'm　playing？〃　George　would　

exclaim　indignantly；　while　taking　aim　at　him　with　a　boot。



〃What　do　you　want　to　play　like　that　for　when　he　is　howling？〃　Harris　would　

retort；　catching　the　boot。　　〃You　let　him　alone。　　He　can't　help　howling。　　

He's　got　a　musical　ear；　and　your　playing　MAKES　him　howl。〃



So　George　determined　to　postpone　study　of　the　banjo　until　he　reached　

home。　　But　he　did　not　get　much　opportunity　even　there。　　Mrs。　P。　used　to　

come　up　and　say　she　was　very　sorry　…　for　herself；　she　liked　to　hear　him　…　

but　the　lady　upstairs　was　in　a　very　delicate　state；　and　the　doctor　was　

afraid　it　might　injure　the　child。



Then　George　tried　taking　it　out　with　him　late　at　night；　and　practising　

round　the　square。　　But　the　inhabitants　complained　to　the　police　about　it；　

and　a　watch　was　set　for　him　one　night；　and　he　was　captured。　　The　evidence　

against　him　was　very　clear；　and　he　was　bound　over　to　keep　the　peace　for　

six　months。



He　seemed　to　lose　heart　in　the　business　after　that。　　He　did　make　one　or　

two　feeble　efforts　to　take　up　the　work　again　when　the　six　months　had　

elapsed；　but　there　was　always　the　same　coldness　…　the　same　want　of　

sympathy　on　the　part　of　the　world　to　fight　against；　and；　after　awhile；　he　

despaired　altogether；　and　advertised　the　instrument　for　sale　at　a　great　

sacrifice　…　〃owner　having　no　further　use　for　same〃　…　and　took　to　learning　

card　tricks　instead。



It　must　be　disheartening　work　learning　a　musical　instrument。　　You　would　

think　that　Society；　for　its　own　sake；　would　do　all　it　could　to　assist　a　

man　to　acquire　the　art　of　playing　a　musical　instrument。　　But　it　doesn't！



I　knew　a　young　fellow　once；　who　was　studying　to　play　the　bagpipes；　and　

you　would　be　surprised　at　the　amount　of　opposition　he　had　to　contend　

with。　　Why；　not　even　from　the　members　of　his　own　family　did　he　receive　

what　you　could　call　active　encouragement。　　His　father　was　dead　against　

the　business　from　the　beginning；　and　spoke　quite　unfeelingly　on　the　

subject。



My　friend　used　to　get　up　early　in　the　morning　to　practise；　but　he　had　to　

give　that　plan　up；　because　of　his　sister。　　She　was　somewhat　religiously　

inclined；　and　she　said　it　seemed　such　an　awful　thing　to　begin　the　day　

like　that。



So　he　sat　up　at　night　instead；　and　played　after　the　family　had　gone　to　

bed；　but　that　did　not　do；　as　it　got　the　house　such　a　bad　name。　　People；　

going　home　late；　would　stop　outside　to　listen；　and　then　put　it　about　all　

over　the　town；　the　next　morning；　that　a　fearful　murder　had　been　committed　

at　Mr。　Jefferson's　the　night　before；　and　would　describe　how　they　had　

heard　the　victim's　shrieks　and　the　brutal　oaths　and　curses　of　the　

murderer；　followed　by　the　prayer　for　mercy；　and　the　last　dying　gurgle　of　

the　corpse。



So　they　let　him　practise　in　the　day…time；　in　the　back…kitchen　with　all　

the　doors　shut；　but　his　more　successful　passages　could　generally　be　heard　

in　the　sitting…room；　in　spite　of　these　precautions；　and　would　affect　his　

mother　almost　to　tears。



She　said　it　put　her　in　mind　of　her　poor　father　（he　had　been　swallowed　by　

a　shark；　poor　man；　while　bathing　off　the　coast　of　New　Guinea　…　where　the　

connection　came　in；　she　could　not　explain）。



Then　they　knocked　up　a　little　place　for　him　at　the　bottom　of　the　garden；　

about　quarter　of　a　mile　from　the　house；　and　made　him　take　the　machine　

down　there　when　he　wanted　to　work　it；　and　sometimes　a　visitor　would　come　

to　the　house　who　knew　nothing　of　the　matter；　and　they　woul