Life of Ma Parker." by Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923)鲍鱼的营养
When the literary gentleman, who flat old Ma Parker cleaned every Tuesday, opened the door to her that morning, he asked after her grandson. Ma Parker stood on the doormat inside the dark little hall, and she stretched out her hand to help her gentleman shut the door before she replied. "We buried 'im yesterday, sir," she said quietly.
"Oh, dear me! I'm sorry to hear that," said the literary gentleman in a shocked tone. He was in the middle of his breakfast. He wore a very shabby dressing-gown and carried a crumpled newspaper in one hand. But he felt awkward. He could hardly go back to the warm sitting-room without saying something - something more. Then becau the people t such store by funerals he said kindly, "I hope the funeral went off all right."
"Beg parding, sir?" said old Ma Parker huskily.
Poor old bird! She did look dashed. "I hope the funeral was a - a - success," said he. Ma Parker gave no answer. She bent her head and hobbled off to the kitchen, clasping the old f
任务驱动ish bag that held her cleaning things and an apron and a pair of felt shoes. The literary gentleman raid his eyebrows and went back to his breakfast.
"Overcome, I suppo," he said aloud, helping himlf to the marmalade.
Ma Parker drew the two jetty spears out of her toque and hung it behind the door. She unhooked her worn jacket and hung that up too. Then she tied her apron and sat down to take off her boots. To take off her boots or to put them on was an agony to her, but it had been an agony for years. In fact, she was so accustomed to the pain that her face was drawn and screwed up ready for the twinge before she'd so much as untied the laces. That over, she sat back with a sigh and softly rubbed her knees ...
莲藕的作用与功效 "Gran! Gran!" Her little grandson stood on her lap in his button boots. He'd just come in from playing in the street.
"Look what a state you've made your gran's skirt into - you wicked boy!"
But he put his arms round her neck and rubbed his cheek against hers.
"Gran, gi' us a penny!" he coaxed.
"Be off with you; Gran ain't got no pennies."
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"Yes, you 'ave."
"No, I ain't."
"Yes, you 'ave. Gi' us one!"
Already she was feeling for the old, squashed, black leather pur.
"Well, what'll you give your gran?"
He gave a shy little laugh and presd clor. She felt his eyelid quivering against her cheek. "I ain't got nothing," he murmured ...
The old woman sprang up, ized the iron kettle off the gas stove and took it over to th
e sink. The noi of the water drumming in the kettle deadened her pain, it emed. She filled the pail, too, and the washing-up bowl.
It would take a whole book to describe the state of that kitchen. During the week the literary gentleman "did" for himlf. That is to say, he emptied the tea leaves now and again into a jam jar t aside for that purpo, and if he ran out of clean forks he wiped over one or two on the roller towel. Otherwi, as he explained to his friends, his "system" was quite simple, and he couldn't understand why people made all this fuss about houkeeping.
"You simply dirty everything you've got, get a hag in once a week to clean up, and the thing's done."
海上钢琴师经典 The result looked like a gigantic dustbin. Even the floor was littered with toast crusts, envelopes, cigarette ends. But Ma Parker bore him no grudge. She pitied the poor young gentleman for having no one to look after him. Out of the smudgy little window you could e an immen expan of sad-looking sky, and whenever there were clouds they looke
d very worn, old clouds, frayed at the edges, with holes in them, or dark stains like tea.
车辆工程就业前景 While the water was heating, Ma Parker began sweeping the floor. "Yes," she thought, as the broom knocked, "what with one thing and another I've had my share. I've had a hard life." 十二星座的由来
卫生健康手抄报 Even the neighbours said that of her. Many a time, hobbling Home with her fish bag she heard them, waiting at the corner, or leaning over the area railings, say among themlves, "She's had a hard life, has Ma Parker." And it was so true she wasn't in the least proud of it. It was just as if you were to say she lived in the bament-back at Number 27. A hard life! ...
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At sixteen she'd left Stratford and come up to London as kitching-maid. Yes, she was born in Stratford-on-Avon. Shakespeare, sir? No, people were always arsking her about him. But she'd never heard his name until she saw it on the theatres.
