父親雇廚子

By Clarence Day

美國著名作家克拉倫斯·戴（1874—1935）在他的自傳體作品《與父親一起生活的日子》中細(xì)致幽默地描寫了他們一家人在19世紀(jì)90年代的紐約度過的日子，刻畫了他的父親老克拉倫斯·戴的生動(dòng)形象。書中的每一篇故事都令讀者捧腹，十分耐人尋味。

父親結(jié)婚之前一直過著衣來伸手、飯來張口的日子，更何況他的母親是烹調(diào)高手。然而婚后的日子卻不再如此無憂無慮，多了一些磕磕絆絆。有一天，父親回到家，家里一片狼藉，廚子辭工離去，母親又生病了，而家里的大兒子克拉倫斯才四歲，還有兩歲的喬治和一個(gè)小嬰兒，看來要吃不上晚飯了。父親問了保姆介紹所的地址，二話不說就前往那里找廚子。父親不按常規(guī)程序雇傭保姆，而保姆介紹所的管理人員當(dāng)然拗不過固執(zhí)蠻橫的父親。父親憑其獨(dú)特的個(gè)性和方式迅速有效地找到了自己心儀的廚子，而且在他家一干就是26年。

父親的飲食習(xí)慣和他的性格一樣固執(zhí)，不易改變。自從他從保姆介紹所把瑪格麗特帶回家，他就適應(yīng)了瑪格麗特做的飯菜。夏天里一家人要去鄉(xiāng)下度假，而瑪格麗特得留在城里看守房子，因此母親在鄉(xiāng)下另雇了廚子。但是父親就是吃不慣別人做的飯菜，即使吃了他還是覺得肚子里空空如也。母親沒辦法，只好把瑪格麗特從城里叫到鄉(xiāng)下來做飯。

One late afternoon when Father came up from down town， he found his home much upset. Our cook had walked out and left us. I was a child of four， George was two， and there was a new baby besides. Mother was ill. She hadnt been able to leave us to go to an agency. And as she was no hand at cooking herself， the outlook for dinner was poor.

This state of affairs was unprecedented（前所未有的）in all Fathers experience. In his fathers home， they never changed their servants suddenly； they seldom changed them at all； and as his mother was a past mistress（女能人）of cooking， he had always been doubly protected. Since his marriage， he had had to live a much bumpier（更坎坷的）life. But this was the worst yet.

He asked Mother， who was lying in bed， what she was going to do about it. There were no telephones then， and she couldnt do anything at all， at the moment； but she said she would try to go to an agency in the morning and see what she could find. “In the morning？ Good God！” Father said. “Where is the place， anyhow？” And he clapped on his hat and strode out again， over toward Sixth Avenue.

As I heard the story years afterward， it was late when he got there， and he bounded up（跳上）the front stoop（門廊，門階）two or three steps at a time， and went quickly into the little office， where the gaslights were burning. He had never been in such a place before， and to his surprise it was empty， except for a severe-looking woman who sat at a desk at one side.“Where do you keep em？” he urgently demanded， his mind on the question of dinner.

She looked at him， got out her pen， and opened a large book deliberately. “I will take your name and address，” she informed him， “and then， if you please， you may give me the details as to what kind of person you require and when you would wish her to call.”

But Father had no time， he told her， for any damned fol-de-rol（廢話）. “Where do you keep em？”he said again. She was standing in the way of his dinner. I can imagine how his face must have reddened and how his eyes must have blazed at（怒視）her. “I am asking you where you keep them！” he roared.

“Why， the girls are in there，” the lady explained， to calm him， “but clients are not allowed in that room. If you will tell me the kind of position you wish me to fill for you， I will have one come out.”

Before shed half-finished， Father had thrown open the door and gone in. There sat a crowd of the girls， young and old， sickly and brawny（強(qiáng)壯的）， of all shapes and sizes； some ugly， some pretty and trim（整潔的）and stylish（時(shí)髦的）， some awkward； nurses， ladies maids， waitresses， washerwomen， and cooks.

The manager was by now at Fathers elbow（在父親旁邊）， trying to make him get out， and insisting that he tell her the position he wished her to fill. But Father was swiftly glancing around at the crowd， and he paid no attention. He noticed a little woman in the corner， with honest grey eyes， who sat there， shrewd-looking（看起來很精明的）and quiet. He pointed his cane over at her and said， “Ill take that one.”

The manager was flustered（慌張不安的）， but still she kept trying to enforce her authority. She protested she didnt yet know the position…

“Cook，” Father said， “cook.”

“But Margaret doesnt wish to be a cook， she wants—”

“You can cook， cant you？” Father demanded. Margarets plain little face was still pink with excitement and pleasure at being chosen above all that roomful by such a masterful（專橫傲慢的）gentleman. Father had probably smiled at her， too， for they liked each other at once. Well， she said， she had cooked for one family.

“Of course she can cook，” Father said.

He said afterward， when describing the incident， “I knew at once she could cook.”

The manager didnt like this at all. The discipline of the office was spoiled. “If you are going to take her anyhow，” she said acidly（尖刻地）， “what day would you wish her to come， and will you please give me your name？”

“Yes， yes，” Father said， without giving it. “Come on， Margaret.” And he planked down（立即付款）the fee and walked out.

Margaret followed him through the door and trotted over to our home at his heels. He sent her down to the kitchen immediately， while he went upstairs to dress.

“I dont know why you make such a fuss（大驚小怪，小題大做）about engaging new servants. Its simple enough，” he said comfortably to Mother that evening， after Margarets first dinner.

It was the first of a long series， for she stayed with us twenty-six years.

In the summers， when we went to the country， our usual plan was to hire a temporary cook to go with us， so that Margaret could stay in town. We hated to leave her， but the idea was that somebody must stay to take care of the house. There were no electric burglar alarms（防盜報(bào)警器）in those days， and few special watchmen. Little Margaret made a pretty small watchman， for she was no size at all， but she had an indomitable（不屈不撓的）spirit. So wed leave her on guard while we went up to our summer home in Harrison with a substitute cook.

But this didnt work well. No matter how few the substitute faults were， Father had no patience with them. One summer， I remember， there was a nice woman， Delia， who got on well with Mother because she was so obliging（禮貌體貼的）and pleasant， but who didnt suit Father at all. “I dont give a damn how obliging she is，” he kept saying. “If she wont oblige me by cooking something fit to eat， she can go.”

This didnt sound unreasonable， but Delia cooked well enough for the rest of us， and Mother hated to risk getting someone else whod be temperamenta（l喜怒無常的）. Our dining-room consequently became a battleground morning and night. At breakfast， Father would put down his coffee-cup in disgust and roar：“Slops（泔水）！ Damn it， slops！ Does she call this confounded（討厭的）mess coffee？ Isnt there a damned soul in Westchester County who knows how to make coffee but me？ I swear to God I cant even imagine how she concocts（調(diào)制）such atrocities（可憎的東西）. I come down to this room hungry every morning， and she tries to fill me with slops！ Take it away， I tell you！” he would bellow（大吼）to the waitress. “Take this accursed（可憎的）mess away！” And while she and Delia were frantically hurrying to make a fresh pot， he would savagely devour（吞食）his omelet and bacon， and declare that his breakfast was ruined.

The longer Delia stayed with us， the more alarmed Father became. He ate heartily（津津有味地）， as Mother kept pointing out to him， but he said he didnt feel nourished. He said it was no use to argue about it； he felt all gone inside. One night after he had had a four-course dinner， he fretfully got up from the table， went into the library with his cigar， and moaned that he was starved. His moans were， as always， full-throated（聲音洪亮的）， and they came from the heart. Every now and then， when his miserable condition seemed to strike him afresh， he laid down his book and shouted “Starved！ Starved！” in a grief-stricken（極度悲傷的）roar.

When Mother went in the library to quiet him， he told her hed be damned if hed stand it. “I refuse to be sent to my grave， do you hear me， by that infernal bogtrotting imbecile（可惡的在泥潭里小跑的蠢貨）you keep in my kitchen.”

”Now， Clare， a Japanese is coming tomorrow， I told you. This is Delias last night. I do hope youll like Tobo. He wont know our ways right at the start， of course， but he is a very good cook.”

Father was appeased（安撫）for the moment by the dismissa（l解雇）of Delia. But the next night， when he found that the first dish was too Orienta（l東方的）， he said in an annoyed tone to Mother， “Will you kindly explain to your man Tobo that I am not a coolie（苦力）？” And after eating the rest of his dinner， he pushed his plate away and went up to his bedroom， declaring vehemently（激烈地）that he was poisoned. He undressed， lay down on his sofa， and filled the air with deep groans.

From time to time he stopped and dozed a little， or listened to what he could hear of our talk. His feeling was that we shouldnt be talking at all. We ought to be sitting with bowed heads in silence until he recovered.“Poisoned！” he suddenly boomed， to remind us. “Oh， God！ I am poisoned！”

At this point， Mother， who was down in the library， laughed. Father heard her. He jumped up from his sofa and marched from his bedroom indignantly（憤怒地）into the hall. “Im a sick man！” he thundered robustly（強(qiáng)有力地）.“And nobody in this house gives a damn！”

Mother hurried upstairs to see what he wanted. He insisted on her rubbing his back. Sick or well， that always soothed him， and he would have liked her to do it for hours. He loved to close his eyes， with someones hand moving quietly on him， while a feeling of comfort flowed into his thoughts and his nerves.

Mother didnt think much of rubbing， however. She didnt like it herself. When anyone rubbed her， she stiffened and resisted at once. Consequently she had no idea of the right way to do it. When she had to rub Father， she always got tired of it in a very few minutes.

She gave him some hasty little rubs and digs as well as she could， but just as he was beginning to relax， she said， “There now， Clare， thats enough.” Father was so disappointed by this that it reminded him that he was poisoned， and the only cure he could think of was the dismissal of Tobo.

The next day old Margaret was sent for to come at once to the country， and the house in town was locked up and left to take care of itself.

She came in a hack（出租馬車）from the Harrison station. She was an odd sight. Her face looked familiar in her little black bonnet（包頭軟帽）， tied under her chin， but she seemed strangely swollen（浮腫的）and bulky（龐大的）； she stuck out in queer places； and as she crowded through the back door， she bruised（擦傷）me with her hard， bony hip. Only it wasnt her hip， it turned out； it was her favourite saucepan（深平底鍋）， which was tied to her waist under her skirt. Several large spoons， a dipper（長柄勺）， a skillet（長柄平底煎鍋）， and two pair of shoes were made fast under it elsewhere. In her arms she had some bundles wrapped in newspapers， which Mother thought at first held her clothes， but when Margaret opened them we found they contained cheeses， melons， fresh coffee， a leg of lamb， some sweet potatoes， and other provisions（食物）. Margaret had no faith at all in being able to buy any supplies in the country. She had brought as complete a larder（食物柜）to Harrison as though we were at the North Pole.

”But didnt you bring any clothes with you， Margaret？ Not even an apron？” asked Mother.

Little Margaret pursed her lips closely together and didnt answer at first. Then， as Mother stood waiting， she said unwillingly， “I have me other clothes on me.”

She had wanted to have her hands free， it seemed， to bring us something good to eat. So under her street dress she was wearing two other dresses on that hot summer day， a collection of stiffly starched（上過漿的）petticoats（襯裙）， three aprons， two nightgowns， and pretty much all the rest of her wardrobe.

As she was climbing upstairs to unpeel and unpack herself（把身上的衣服一層一層脫掉，把捆在身上的物品一件一件取下來）， Father saw her. “Is that you， Margaret？” he called， suddenly feeling much better. “Thank God！”