马克·吐温/Mark Twain
马克·吐温（Mark Twain，1835—1910），美国幽默大师、小说家、著名演说家，19世纪后期美国现实主义文学的杰出代表。作品风格以幽默与讽刺为主，既富于独特的个人机智与妙语，又不乏深刻的社会洞察与剖析。主要的代表作品有《哈克贝利·费恩历险记》（长篇）、《百万英镑》（短篇）等。
Night before last I had a singular dream. I seemed to be sitting on a doorstep（in no particular city perhaps）ruminating, and the time of night appeared to be about twelve or one o‘clock. The weather was balmy and delicious. There was no human sound in the air, not even a footstep. There was no sound of any kind to emphasize the dead stillness, except the occasional hollow barking of a dog in the distance and the fainter answer of a further dog. Presently up the street I heard a bony clack-clacking, and guessed it was the castanets of a serenading party. In a minute more a tall skeleton, hooded, and half clad in a tattered and moldy shroud, whose shreds were fapping aboutthe ribby latticework of its person, swung by me with a stately stride and disappeared in the gray gloom of the starlight. It had a broken and worm-eaten coffn on its shoulder and a bundle of something in its hand. I knew what the clack-clacking was then；it was this party’s joints working together, and his elbows knocking against his sides as he walked. I may say I was surprised. Before I could collect my thoughts and enter upon any speculations as to what this apparition might portend, I heard another one coming for I recognized his clack-clack. He had two-thirds of a coffin on his shoulder, and some foot and head boards under his arm. I mightily wanted, to peer under his hood and speak to him, but when he turned and smiled upon me with his cavernous sockets and his projecting grin as he went by, I thought I would not detain him. He was hardly gone when I heard the clacking again, and another one issued from the shadowy half-light. This one was bending under a heavy gravestone, and dragging a shabby coffn after him by a string. When he got to me he gave me a steady look for a moment or two, and then rounded to and backed up to me, saying：
“Ease this down for a fellow, will you?”
I eased the gravestone down till it rested on the ground, and in doing so noticed that it bore the name of“John Baxter Copmanhurst，”with“May，1839，”as the date of his death. Deceased sat wearily down by me, and wiped his frontal with his major maxillary-chiefy from former habit I judged, for I could not see that he brought away any perspiration.
“It is too bad, too bad，”said he, drawing the remnant of the shroud about him and leaning his jaw pensively on his hand. Then he put his left foot up on his knee and fell to scratching his anklebone absently with a rusty nail which he got out of his coffn.
“What is too bad, friend?”
“Oh, everything, everything. I almost wish I never had died.”
“You surprise me. Why do you say this?Has anything gone wrong?What is the matter?”
“Matter！Look at this shroud-rags. Look at this gravestone, all battered up. Look at that disgraceful old coffn. All a mans property going to ruin and destruction before his eyes, and ask him if anything is wrong?Fire and brimstone！”
“Calm yourself, calm yourself，”I said.“It is too bad-it is certainly too bad, but then I had not supposed that you would much mind such matters situated as you are.”
“Well, my dear sir, I do mind them. My pride is hurt, and my comfort is impaired-destroyed, I might say. I will state my case-I will put it to you in such a way that you can comprehend it, if you will let me，”said the poor skeleton, tilting the hood of his shroud back, as if he were clearing for action, and thus unconsciously giving himself a jaunty and festive air very much at variance with the grave character of his position in life-so to speak-and in prominent contrast with his distressful mood.
“Proceed，”said I.
“I reside in the shameful old graveyard a block or two above you here, in this street-there, now, I just expected that cartilage would let go！-third rib from the bottom, friend, hitch the end of it to my spine with a string, if you have got such a thing about you, though a bit of silver wire is a deal pleasanter, and more durable and becoming, if one keeps it polished-to think of shredding out and going to pieces in this way, just on account of the indifference and neglect of ones posterity！”-and the poor ghost grated his teeth in a way that gave me a wrench and a shiver-for the effect is mightily increased by the absence of muffing fesh and cuticle.“I reside in that oldgraveyard, and have for these thirty years；and I tell you things are changed since I frst laid this old tired frame there, and turned over, and stretched out for a long sleep, with a delicious sense upon me of being done with bother, and grief, and anxiety, and doubt, and fear, forever and ever, and listening with comfortable and increasing satisfaction to the sextons work, from the startling clatter of his frst spadeful on my coffn till it dulled away to the faint patting that shaped the roof of my new home-delicious！My！I wish you could try it tonight！”And out of my reverie deceased fetched me a rattling slap with a bony hand.
“Yes, sir, thirty years ago I laid me down there, and was happy. For it was out in the country then-out in the breezy, fowery, grand old woods, and the lazy winds gossiped with the leaves, and the squirrels capered over us and around us, and the creeping things visited us, and the birds flled the tranquil solitude with music. Ah, it was worth ten years of a mans life to be dead then！Everything was pleasant. I was in a good neighborhood, for all the dead people that lived near me belonged to the best families in the city. Our posterity appeared to think the world of us. They kept our graves in the very best condition；the fences were always in faultless repair, head-boards were kept painted or whitewashed, and were replaced with new ones as soon as they began to look rusty or decayed；monuments were kept upright, railings intact and bright, the rose-bushes and shrubbery trimmed, trained, and free from blemish, the walks clean and smooth and graveled. But that day is gone by. Our descendants have forgotten us. My grandson lives in a stately house built with money made by these old hands of mine, and I sleep in a neglected grave with invading vermin that gnaw my shroud to build them nests withal！I and friends that lie with me founded and secured the prosperity of this fne city, and the stately bantling of our loves leaves us to rot in a dilapidated cemetery which neighbors curse and strangers scoff at. See the difference between the old time and this-for instance：Our graves are all caved in now；our head-boards have rotted away and tumbled down；our railings reel this way and that, with one foot in the air, after a fashion of unseemly levity；our monuments lean wearily, and our gravestones bow their heads discouraged；there be no adornments any more-no roses, nor shrubs, nor graveled walks, nor anything that is a comfort to the eye；and even the paintless old board fence that did make a show of holding us sacred from companionship with beasts and the deflement of heedless feet, has tottered till it overhangs the street, and only advertises the presence of our dismal resting-place and invites yet more derision to it. And now we cannot hide our poverty and tatters in the friendly woods, for the city has stretched its withering arms abroad and taken us in, and all that remains of the cheer of our old home is the cluster of lugubrious forest trees that stand, bored and weary of a city life, with their feet in our coffns, looking into the hazy distance and wishing they were there. I tell you it is disgraceful！”
“You begin to comprehend-you begin to see how it is. While our descendants are living sumptuously on our money, right around us in the city, we have to fght hard to keep skull and bones together. Bless you, there isn‘t a grave in our cemetery that doesn’t leak not one. Every time it rains in the night we have to climb out and roost in the trees and sometimes we are wakened suddenly by the chilly water trickling down the back of our necks. Then I tell you there is a general heaving up of old graves and kicking over of old monuments, and scampering of old skeletons for the trees！Bless me, if you had gone along there some such nights after twelve you might have seenas many as ffteen of us roosting on one limb, with our joints rattling drearily and the wind wheezing through our ribs！Many a time we have perched there for three or four dreary hours, and then come down, stiff and chilled through and drowsy, and borrowed each other‘s skulls to bail out our graves with-if you will glance up in my mouth now as I tilt my head back, you can see that my head-piece is half full of old dry sediment how top-heavy and stupid it makes me sometimes！Yes, sir, many a time if you had happened to come along just before the dawn you’d have caught us bailing out the graves and hanging our shrouds on the fence to dry. Why, I had an elegant shroud stolen from there one morning-think a party by the name of Smith took it, that resides in a plebeian graveyard over yonder-I think so because the frst time I ever saw him he hadn‘t anything on but a check shirt, and the last time I saw him, which was at a social gathering in the new cemetery, he was the best-dressed corpse in the company-and it is a signifcant fact that he left when he saw me；and presently an old woman from here missed her coffin-she generally took it with her when she went anywhere, because she was liable to take cold and bring on the spasmodic rheumatism that originally killed her if she exposed herself to the night air much. She was named Hotchkiss-Anna Matilda Hotchkiss-you might know her?She has two upper front teeth, is tall, but a good deal inclined to stoop, one rib on the left side gone, has one shred of rusty hair hanging from the left side of her head, and one little tuft just above and a little forward of her right ear, has her underjaw wired on one side where it had worked loose, small bone of left forearm gone-lost in a fght has a kind of swagger in her gait and a’gallusway of going with：her arms akimbo and her nostrils in the air has been pretty free and easy, and is all damaged and battered up till she looks like a queensware crate in ruins-maybe youhave met her?”
“God forbid！”I involuntarily ejaculated, for somehow I was not looking for that form of question, and it caught me a little off my guard. But I hastened to make amends for my rudeness, and say，“I simply meant I had not had the honor-for I would not deliberately speak discourteously of a friend of yours. You were saying that you were robbed-and it was a shame, too-but it appears by what is left of the shroud you have on that it was a costly one in its day. How did……”
A most ghastly expression began to develop among the decayed features and shriveled integuments of my guest‘s face, and I was beginning to grow uneasy and distressed, when he told me he was only working up a deep, smile, with a wink in it, to suggest that about the time he acquired his present garment a ghost in a neighboring cemetery missed one. This reassured me, but I begged him to confne himself to speech thenceforth, because his facial expression was uncertain. Even with the most elaborate care it was liable to miss fire. Smiling should especially be avoided. What he might honestly consider a shining success was likely to strike me in a very different light. I said I liked to see a skeleton cheerful, even decorously playful, but I did not think smiling was a skeleton’s best hold.
“Yes, friend，”said the poor skeleton，“the facts are just as I have given them to you. Two of these old graveyards-the one that I resided in and one further along have been deliberately neglected by our descendants of today until there is no occupying them any longer. Aside from the osteological discomfort of it-and that is no light matter this rainy weather-the present state of things is ruinous to property. We have got to move or be content to see our effects wasted away and utterly destroyed.”
Now, you will hardly believe it, but it is true, nevertheless, that there isn‘t a single coffn in good repair among all my acquaintance-now that is an absolute fact. I do not refer to low people who come in a pine box mounted on an express-wagon, but I am talking about your high-toned, silver-mounted burial-case, your monumental sort, that travel under black plumes at the head of a procession and have choice of cemetery lots-I mean folks like the Jarvises, and the Bledsoes and the Burlings, and such. They are all about ruined. The most substantial people in our set, they were. And now look at them-utterly used up and poverty-stricken. One of the Bledsoes actually traded his monument to a late barkeeper for some fresh shavings to put under his head. I tell you it speaks volumes, for there is nothing a corpse takes so much pride in as his monument. He loves to read the inscription. He comes after a while to believe what it says himself, and then you may see him sitting on the fence night after night enjoying it. Epitaphs are cheap, and they do a poor chap a world of good after he is dead, especially if he had hard luck while he was alive. I wish they were used more. Now I don’t complain, but confdentially I do think it was a little shabby in my descendants to give me nothing but this old slab of a gravestone-and all the more that there isnt a compliment on it. It used to have：
GONE TO HIS JUST REWARD.
“On it, and I was proud when I first saw it, but by and by I noticed that whenever an old friend of mine came along he would hook his chin on the railing and pull a long face and read along down till he came to that, and then he would chuckle to himself and walk off, looking satisfied and comfortable. So I scratched it off to get rid of those fools. But a dead man always takes a deal of pride in his monument. Yonder goes half a dozen of the Jarvises now, withthe family monument along. And Smithers and some hired specters went by with his awhile ago. Hello, Higgins, good-by, old friend！That‘s Meredith Higgins-died in’44-belongs to our set in the cemetery-fne old family-great-grand mother was an Injun-I am on the most familiar terms with him he didn‘t hear me was the reason he didn’t answer me. And I am sorry, too, because I would have liked to introduce you. You would admire him. He is the most disjointed, sway-backed, and generally distorted old skeleton you ever saw, but he is full of fun. When he laughs it sounds like rasping two stones together, and he always starts it off with a cheery screech like raking a nail across a window-pane. Hey, Jones！That is old Columbus Jones-shroud cost four hundred dollars entire trousseau, including monument, twenty-seven hundred. This was in the spring of 1926.It was enormous style for those days. Dead people came all the way from the Alleghanies to see his things-the party that occupied the grave next to mine remembers it well. Now do you see that individual going along with a piece of a head-board under his arm, one leg-bone below his knee gone, and not a thing in the world on?That is Barstow Dalhousie, and next to Columbus Jones he was the most sumptuously outfitted person that ever entered our cemetery. We are all leaving. We cannot tolerate the treatment we are receiving at the hands of our descendants. They open new cemeteries, but they leave us to our ignominy. They mend the streets, but they never mend anything that is about us or belongs to us. Look at that coffn of mine-yet I tell you in its day it was a piece of furniture that would have attracted attention in any drawing-room in this city. You may have it if you want it-I can‘t afford to repair it. Put a new bottom in her, and part of a new top, and a bit of fresh lining along the left side, and you’ll find her about as comfortable as any receptacle of her species you ever tried. No thanksno, don‘t mention it you have been civil to me, and I would give you all the property I have got before I would seem ungrateful. Now this winding-sheet is a kind of a sweet thing in its way, if you would like to-No?Well, just as you say, but I wished to be fair and liberal there’s nothing mean about me. Good-by, friend, I must be going. I may have a good way to go tonight-don‘t know. I only know one thing for certain, and that is that I am on the emigrant trail now, and I’ll never sleep in that crazy old cemetery again. I will travel till I fend respectable quarters, if I have to hoof it to New Jersey. All the boys are going. It was decided in public conclave, last night, to emigrate, and by the time the sun rises there wont be a bone left in our old habitations. Such cemeteries may suit my surviving friends, but they do not suit the remains that have the honor to make these remarks. My opinion is the general opinion. If you doubt it, go and see how the departing ghosts upset things before they started. They were almost riotous in their demonstrations of distaste. Hello, here are some of the Bledsoes, and if you will give me a lift with this tombstone I guess I will join company and jog along with them-mighty respectable old family, the Bledsoes, and used to always come out in six-horse hearses and all that sort of thing ffty years ago when I walked these streets in daylight. Goodby, friend.”
And with his gravestone on his shoulder he joined the grisly procession, dragging his damaged coffn after him, for notwithstanding he pressed it upon me so earnestly, I utterly refused his hospitality. I suppose that for as much as two hours these sad outcasts went clacking by, laden with their dismal effects, and all that time I sat pitying them. One or two of the youngest and least dilapidated among them inquired about midnight trains on the railways, but the rest seemed unacquainted with that mode of travel, and merely asked aboutcommon public roads to various towns and cities, some of which are not on the map now, and vanished from it and from the earth as much as thirty years ago, and some few of them never had existed anywhere but on maps, and private ones in real-estate agencies at that. And they asked about the condition of the cemeteries in these towns and cities, and about the reputation the citizens bore as to reverence for the dead.
This whole matter interested me deeply, and likewise compelled my sympathy for these homeless ones. And it all seeming real, and I not knowing it was a dream, I mentioned to one shrouded wanderer an idea that had entered my head to publish an account of this curious and very sorrowful exodus, but said also that I could not describe it truthfully, and just as it occurred, without seeming to trife with a grave subject and exhibit an irreverence for the dead that would shock and distress their surviving friends. But this bland and stately remnant of a former citizen leaned him far over my gate and whispered in my ear, and said：
“Do not let that disturb you. The community that can stand such graveyards as those we are emigrating from can stand anything a body can say about the neglected and forsaken dead that lie in them.”
At that very moment a cock crowed, and the weird procession vanished and left not a shred or a bone behind. I awoke, and found myself lying with my head out of the bed and“sagging”downward considerably-a position favorable to dreaming dreams with morals in them, maybe, but not poetry.
NOTE.-The reader is assured that if the cemeteries in his town are kept in good order, this Dream is not leveled at his town at all, but is leveled particularly and venomously at the next town.
前天夜里，我做了一个古怪的梦。梦里的我坐在门前的台阶上（我也不知道这是哪个城市）沉思，时间可能是夜里12点或1点。天气温和宜人，四周寂静无声。除了远处偶尔传来的几声悠远的狗叫，以及更远处若有若无的狗吠回应外，再也听不到任何其他声音，四周一片死寂。不久，我听到大街上传来一阵类似骨头摩擦的咔咔声，我以为那是小夜曲演奏会上响板的声音。不一会儿，一个高大的骷髅，戴着布帽，半裹着发霉的裹尸布——裹尸布的碎片和脱线在其躯体周围吊着——迈着庄重的步伐，从我面前走过，很快便消失在星光朦胧的夜幕里。他的肩上扛着一口破旧且被虫蛀了的棺材，手里拿着一个包裹。我这才明白，咔咔声原来是这具骷髅的关节以及他的手肘碰到身体发出的声音。我惊诧不已，还没来得及思考这个幽灵的出现究竟意味着，这个时候，我听到另一阵咔咔声，这预示着又一个幽灵向我走来。他扛着大半口棺材，腋下夹着头脚两端的木板。我极力想看清他帽子下的脸，和他说几句话，但当他转过身，用他那空洞无物的眼睛和突出的颌骨向我龇牙咧嘴地笑着走过的时候，我想还是不阻止他为妙。他刚走不远，咔咔声再次响起，昏暗中又有一具骷髅出现了，他弓着腰背着一个沉重的墓碑，身后用绳索拖着一口破烂的棺材。走到我跟前的时候，他盯住我看了一会儿，然后转过身，对我说：
“帮我把这个卸下来，可以吗？”
我帮他把墓碑卸下来放在地上，这时，我看到墓碑上刻着“约翰·巴克斯特·科普曼赫斯特，1839年5月”——这是他死亡的时间。死者疲倦地坐在我身边，用他的上颌骨擦了一下他的前额骨——我想这大概是习惯使然吧，因为我没有看见任何汗水被他擦下来。
“太糟糕了，真是太糟糕了！”他把身上破烂的裹尸布又裹了裹，用手托着下巴。然后，他抬起左脚，搭在右膝盖上，用一颗从棺材里拿出的锈钉子若无其事地挠他的脚踝。
“什么事情这么糟，朋友？”
“噢，所有的事情，所有的事情，我真希望我没有死。”
“太奇怪了，你为什么这样说呢？出了什么问题？到底怎么了？”
“怎么了？看看这些裹尸布条，看看这个墓碑，都碎了。再看看这口丢人的破棺材。一个人的所有财产就在他的眼皮底下化为灰烬，你还问他怎么了？地狱般的灾难啊！”
“冷静些，冷静些，”我说，“太糟了，这的确很糟糕。不过，我没想到，以你目前的状况，你还会如此在乎这些事情。”
“唉，我亲爱的先生，我当然在乎。我的自尊受到了伤害，我的舒适生活遭到了损害——或者说是被毁了。我要说说我的遭遇——我会用你能听懂的方式讲给你听，如果你愿意听的话。”可怜的骷髅一边说着，一边把裹尸布上的帽子翻到脑后，像是在为陈述作准备，这也使他不知不觉换上了一副与他忧郁的性情显得格格不入的喜悦欢快的神态——换句话说吧——此时，他的神态与他悲伤的心情形成了鲜明的对比。
“请讲。”我催促道。
“我住在离这大概一两个街区外的一块令人觉得羞耻的破旧墓地里，就在这条街上——你瞧，我这块软骨都要掉下来了——从下面数第三根肋骨，朋友，如果你有绳子，请把它的末端绑在我的脊椎骨上，虽说我更喜欢用银线，更耐用更好看，如果让它保持光洁——想想看，因为子孙们的冷漠忽视，它就这样变成碎片了！”说到这里，可怜的鬼魂把牙齿咬得咯咯作响。他的这个举动令我毛骨悚然——因为在没有皮肤和肌肉的情况下，这个动作的效果显得更加突出。“我住在那个破旧的墓地已经整整30年了。告诉你吧，自从我这把老骨头睡在那里后，一切都变了。当时，我翻了翻身体，舒展四肢，开始大睡，心情非常愉快。心想，这下终于可以摆脱烦恼、悲伤、担忧、疑虑和恐惧了。怀着安详、满足的心情，我聆听着教堂司事的干活声，从他第一铲土在我的棺材上发出巨大声响，到这种声音渐渐沉闷消失，直到最后为我的新居修建坟顶时发出的隐隐的拍土声——简直太惬意了！哎！希望今晚你也试一试！”我正思考的时候，死者突然用他那干枯的手给了我一巴掌。
“是啊，先生，30年前我搬到那里时，是很快乐的。因为当时，那个地方还处于偏远的乡下——那里微风轻拂，花儿绽放，古木参天。慵懒的风和树叶聊天，松鼠在我们周围打闹嬉戏，爬虫拜访我们，安宁静谧的天地充满了鸟儿的歌声。在那样的环境里，一个人就算少活十年也值了。一切都那么美好，我的邻居们也很好，因为我周围的人都来自城里最好的家庭。我们的子孙们把一切都安排妥当，我们的坟墓被他们保护得非常好，篱笆修剪得一丝不苟。头顶板是油漆或者粉饰的，只要稍微褪色或是腐朽，他们就会给我们换新的。墓碑总是笔直地矗立在那里，护栏完整无缺，亮闪闪的。玫瑰和灌木被修剪得整整齐齐，完美无瑕。墙壁使用砾石镶嵌，干净光滑。但这些日子都过去了，我的后代忘记了我。我的孙子住在豪华的房屋里，那可是用我这双老手挣来的钱盖起来的，而我却睡在无人问津的荒坟里，任臭虫啃噬我的裹尸布。这些虫子想用这东西给它们筑窝。我跟我的邻居们为这座美丽城市的繁荣打下了牢固的基础，可我们热爱的那些人却任凭我们在这被乡邻诅咒、行人嘲笑的破坟里腐烂。你明白从前和现在的不同了吧——比如说吧，我们的坟墓现在都塌了，我们的棺材靠头一端的顶板都碎了，我们的护栏东倒西歪，一端斜翘着。我们的墓志铭东倒西歪，而我们的墓碑则无精打采地低垂着。装饰和点缀都没了——没有玫瑰，没有灌木，没有砾石小路或是任何其他顺眼的东西，甚至那道没有油漆过的用旧木板做的、用来帮我们隔开野兽和免受践踏的篱笆，也已经歪歪斜斜地躺在马路一边了。现在，它唯一的作用就是向世人展示我们墓地的凄凉，从而招来更多的嘲笑。现在，我们无法再借助这片友好的树林来遮掩我们的贫穷和破败了，因为这座城市已经伸开它正在萎缩的胳膊，将我们揽了进去。我们昔日欢乐的旧居，现在只剩下一些悲伤的大树矗立在那里。它们厌倦了都市的生活，它们的根伸进了我们的棺材里，它们凝望着模糊的远方，希望能生长在那里。告诉你吧，这简直就是莫大的耻辱！”
“你开始了解了吧——你开始明白现在的情况了吧。当我们的后代在我们身边的城市里穷奢极欲地挥霍我们的钱财时，我们却不得不拼命保全自己的残躯。老天，我们的坟墓没有一座不漏水的——哪怕有一座也好啊。每当夜里下雨的时候，我们就只能爬出来，睡在树上——有时候冰冷的雨水流进后脖颈，我们就会被惊醒。告诉你，此时所有的老骷髅都不得不顶起墓盖，踢翻墓碑，忙着往树上爬！上帝，在这样的夜晚里，如果你12点以后去那里，你就会看到有15个之多的骷髅，单腿挂在树上，各个关节发出咔咔的响声，任由狂风吹过我们的肋骨。多少次，我们不得不在树上待三四个小时，直到冻僵了才能下来。大家非常困乏，还要借彼此的颅骨把坟墓里的水舀出来。如果你现在朝我的嘴巴里瞧一瞧，我把头往后一仰，你就会看到我头颅的一半已经塞满了积淀的水垢——有时候这让我感到头重脚轻，愚蠢至极！是啊，先生，许多次，如果你凑巧在黎明前赶到那里，你就会发现我们正从坟墓里往外舀水，而篱笆上则正晾着我们的裹尸布。我曾有一块像样的裹尸布，就是有一天早晨在那里被偷走的。我想可能是那个名叫史密斯的人干的。这个人住在那边的平民墓地里——之所以这么说，是因为我初次见到他的时候，他只穿着一件格子衬衫，可是我最近一次看到他，在新墓地的一次聚会上，他是来宾中穿着最体面的——更重要的是，他一看见我就离开了。然后，一位老妇人的棺材也不见了——她出去的时候一般都带着棺材，因为她待在外边的时间长了容易着凉，引起**性风湿病发作，她本来就是因此而死的。她叫霍奇基斯——安娜·马蒂尔德·霍奇基斯——也许你认识她。她有两颗上门牙，个子挺高，但是背有些驼，左边一根肋骨没了，一绺头发耷拉在脑袋左边，一小撮在头顶上，还有几根在右耳朵前边。她的下颌骨一边松了，用铁丝拴着，左前臂的小骨头早不见了——是在一次打架中失去的——走起路来一副盛气凌人的样子，双手像背带似的叉在腰间，鼻孔朝天——她一直一副得意扬扬的样子，可现在一切全都毁了，全都没了。而她看上去就像是废墟堆里装女王陶的板条箱——或许你见过她？”
“但愿没有！”我无意中脱口而出。不知为什么，我没有想到他会这么问，这让我有点儿始料不及，但我急忙为自己的无礼道歉，我说：“我的意思仅仅是说我没有这样的荣幸——因为我不会故意粗鲁地谈论你的朋友。你刚说你被抢劫了——真是遗憾——但是从你身上的这块旧裹尸布来看，当年它是相当值钱的，怎么会——”
眼前这位老人腐烂的面孔和凹凸不平的脸皮上浮现出一种极度恐慌的表情，我开始感到惴惴不安。他回答我的时候，只是深沉而狡黠地笑了笑，眨了眨眼睛，说可能在他得到身上这件衣服的时候，邻居墓园里的一个鬼丢了一件。他的这话消除了我的顾虑。不过，我求他从现在起就用语言和我交流，因为他的面部表情变幻无常，即使他再仔细、再留心也无济于事，微笑尤其要注意避免。他所坚信的、非凡的成功会给我完全不同的感受。我说我喜欢看到一具骷髅高兴的样子，甚至是有教养的顽皮样子，但是我认为微笑不是一具骷髅最佳的神情。
“是啊，朋友，”可怜的骷髅说，“事实就是这样。其中两处破败的墓地——我住过的那一处和更远的那处——被我们的后代故意冷落。现在，那里已经没有死人住了。除了这一把骨头不得安生之外——在下雨天这绝不是一桩小事——目前的状况对我们的财产极为不利。我们不得不搬走，否则只能眼睁睁地看着我们的财产惨遭损坏，直至完全被毁。”
“可能你不相信，但在我认识的人当中，真的没有人有一口完整的棺材——这绝对不假。我指的不是那些被装在松木匣子里、放在特快四轮马车上拉来的下等人，而是指那些高贵的、有漂亮的镀银棺木和纪念碑的人。他们刚刚搬到这里的时候，车顶上飘着黑色羽毛，一队人紧随其后，他们可以自由选择墓地——我是指比如贾维斯家族、布莱索家族和伯林家族等。他们的财产也全都被毁了。他们曾经是我们这些人中最富有的，可是现在你看看他们——一切都没了，穷困潦倒。布莱索家族竟然有人拿纪念碑向后来的一位酒吧老板换了一点儿新鲜的刨木花，垫在自己的头底下。看吧，这很能说明问题，因为没有什么比一块纪念碑更让一个死人感到自豪的了。他爱看上面的文字，不久以后，他自己都相信上面的话了，你会见他整晚坐在篱笆上美美地欣赏呢。纪念碑虽然不贵，但是在一个可怜的人死了以后，那可是一种不可多得的奢侈，尤其是在他生前郁郁不得志的情况下。我希望能多做一些纪念碑。现在，我这样说并不是想抱怨什么，但我私下认为，我的后代们只给我这块旧墓碑，实在是有些寒碜。更令人伤心的是，上面竟然没有一句颂扬之辞。”碑上曾经写着这么一句话：
“死得其所。”
“第一次看到这句话时，我很自豪。可是不久我就发现，当我的一位老朋友来到这里时，他都会把下颌搭在护栏上，拉长脸往下看。一看到这里，他就咯咯地笑起来，然后离开，似乎很满意。所以，我把那句话刮掉，不让这些笨蛋来看。但是，一个死人总是为他的纪念碑感到自豪。那边走的是六七个贾维斯家族的人，随身带着他们的家族纪念碑。刚才，史密斯家族和一些受雇的鬼魂拿着他的纪念碑也一起从这里过去了。你好，希金斯，再见，老朋友！那是梅雷迪思·希金斯。他死于1944年，是我们墓地的，来自光荣显赫的古老家族，曾祖母是印第安人。我跟他最熟，他没有答应我，那是因为他没有听见我的话。不好意思，本来我想把你介绍给他，你会敬佩他的。他将是你所见过的骨架最散乱、后背最驼、最畸形的一具老骷髅，可是他非常滑稽，笑声就像是两块石头在一起刮擦发出的声音，开始笑的时候总是快活地高声尖叫，就像一根钉子刮过玻璃。喂，琼斯！那是老哥伦布·琼斯，一块裹尸布就花了400美元。全部随葬品，连纪念碑一起，一共2700美元，那是1926年春天的事。在那个年头，这可是相当气派的。死人们甚至从阿里汉尼斯河赶来参观他的东西。葬在我邻墓的那些人至今还清楚地记得。看见那个腋下夹着一块顶板从这儿走过的人吗？他膝盖下的一块腿骨没了，身上一丝不挂。那就是巴斯托·戴尔哈西，他华贵的穿戴在我们墓地曾经仅次于哥伦布·琼斯。我们都要离开这里，无法忍受在后代手里遭受这样的待遇。他们开辟新的墓地，却让我们忍受这样的耻辱；他们整修街道，却从来不整修我们周围或是属于我们的东西。看看我的棺材——告诉你，那个年代，这可是在任何客厅都会吸引眼球的东西。你想要的话，就拿走吧——我可没钱修了。给它换一块新底板，顶板换一部分新的，左侧再加一点儿新的衬垫，你就会发现它跟你用过的所有器物一样，很舒服。别客气——不，不用客气——你对我很客气，在我觉得你不领情之前，我愿意把我所有的财产都给你。瞧，这身裹尸布其实是很好的东西。如果你想——不要？那好吧，随便你，但我还是大方一些——我这人一点儿也不小气。再见，朋友，我要走了，今晚我还要走好远的路呢——谁知道呢？不过，有件事我很明白，那就是我已经是流浪汉了，我彻底告别那块破败的墓地了。在找到体面的住处之前，我要不停地走，哪怕一直走到新泽西州去。我们那一块的人都要走了。昨晚大家秘密商议，我们都决定离开，天亮之前，一根骨头也不留在老墓地。这样的墓地对我那些活着的朋友合适，可对我们这些有幸说这番话的死人不合适。我的观点是大多数人的观点。要是怀疑，你就去看看那些将要离开的鬼魂出发前的混乱程度吧。他们在宣泄自己的厌恶时差点儿要暴动了。嗨！过来的是一些布莱索家族的人，不知道你能不能帮我扶一下这块墓碑，我想和他们结伴而行，一起走——布莱索家族是非常尊贵的古老家族。50年前，当我白天在街道上散步的时候，他们总是坐在6匹马拉的豪华马车里，显赫一时。再见，朋友。”
他扛着墓碑，拖着那口破旧的棺材，加入了这一恐怖的行列。尽管他诚心诚意，我还是婉拒了他的好意。这些可怜的流浪汉带着他们可怜的财物咔嚓咔嚓地从我的身边走过，超过两小时。怀着对他们遭遇的深切同情，我一直坐在那里。他们中间有一两个最年轻、最完整的死人向我打听午夜火车的发车时间，但其余的死人可能还不熟悉这种旅行方式，只是向我询问前往各个城市的路，包括那些已经从地图上消失了的。30多年前，它们就从地图和地球上永远消失了，有几条也只是存在于从前的地图或者一些房地产公司的图纸上。他们还询问这些市镇的墓地环境，以及该地市民是不是敬重死者等问题。
这件事引起了我极大的兴趣，同样也激起我对这些无家可归的流浪者的同情。所有的一切都显得那么真实，以至于我根本都没有意识到这只是个梦。于是，我向一位裹着裹尸布的流浪汉说出了我的想法：记录并发表这次奇特而悲壮的大逃亡，同时我也说，我的描述不可能非常确切，就像真实发生过的事情那样，只要看上去不是在敷衍一个严肃的话题，或者表现对死者的大不敬，那就足够了。否则，我会惊动他们那些活着的朋友，让他们感到悲伤。然而，这位前公民温和而庄严的残骸远远地靠在我的门前，对我耳语说：
“别为那件事自找麻烦了。社区既然能够容忍那片让我们纷纷逃离的墓地，自然也能够忍受一个人对死者受到的忽视和遗弃所发出的控诉。”
就在这个时候，公鸡一声啼鸣，鬼魂队伍一下子消失了，一片破布、一根骨头都没有留下。我醒了过来，发现自己躺在**，头低垂着伸在床外，脸朝下——这是很适合做梦的姿势。这种梦可能很有内涵，可能吧，但绝不会有诗情画意。
注：读者们如果确信自己城市里的墓地被维护得很好，这个梦所针对的就肯定不是他们的城市。显而易见，它是蓄意针对其他城市的。
知识点
悬疑小说是具有神秘特性的推理文学，可以唤起人们的本能，刺激人们的好奇心。
它比较注重故事的发展过程，注重渲染各种气氛，使读者以更为紧张的心理状态去关注小说主人公的个人命运，对人类的心理世界有着深刻的领悟，为他们的各种遭遇担惊受怕。悬疑小说的最大特色在于对环境气氛的渲染。
W词汇笔记
ruminate[ru：m?，neit]v.沉思；反复思考；反刍
例 He sat by the window ruminating on the maths problem.
他坐在窗旁反复思考这道数学题。
speculation[，spekjulei??n]n.推测；思考；投机活动；投机买卖
例 That is merely speculation.
那只是猜测。
jaunty[d??：nti]adj.快活的；活泼的；得意扬扬的；感到自信和自满的
例 He walked with a jaunty step.
他得意扬扬地走着。
posterity[p?steriti]n.后代；子孙；后裔
例 Posterity will remember him as a truly great man.
他的子孙永远不会忘记他是个真正的伟人。
S小试身手
我们的墓志铭东倒西歪，而我们的墓碑则无精打采地低垂着。
译________________________________________
当我们的后代在我们身边的城市里穷奢极欲地挥霍我们的钱财时，我们却不得不拼命保全自己的残躯。
译________________________________________
这件事引起了我极大的兴趣，同样也激起我对这些无家可归的流浪者的同情。
译________________________________________
P短语家族
……just on account of the indifference and neglect of ones posterity！
on account of：由于；因为；为了……的缘故
造________________________________________
But a good deal inclined to stoop……
incline to：倾向于……；向……倾斜
造________________________________________